_Chapter 5_

"His Voice"

Trinity

September

I can't do this anymore. I can't live. Without them. With myself. I could do it. It can all be over. I have the power… just… one… quick...move. But it hurt. It hurt more than I thought it would. The tip of my dagger, MY dagger, the only one in the world that can kill me, pierced my skin on my abdomen. Crying out I yanked it away.

No. I can do this. I have to. I just can't go on anymore. With shaking hands I brought the blade back close to my body.

Then I heard him for the first time. His deep, gravelly voice. Warning me, telling me not to do it, "Don't… you're needed more than you know…" intense and low. My hand stopped. I looked around the empty room. There's was no one with me. I asked out loud, "Who are you?" And no response was heard. Tears rolled down my cheeks. Someone, I don't know who, still don't know, wants me alive. How can that be? Who would want me, an abomination… alive? I let my head fall and whispered again with my eyes closed…

"Who are you…?"

I folded my letter that I wrote to myself and stuffed it back in my desk drawer. I did this occasionally when I wanted to remember something. Like a note-to-self. Usually to keep me going. We haven't spoken through the Angel Radio system since December of last year. I don't think he recognises me. Why would he? I've changed and gotten stronger. I've also died more on the inside. It worries me, my inner-selves are attacking each other and there's nothing I can do about it. It will happen. And people are going to die, because of me.

"Trinity?! You comin'?" Dean's voice echoed through my apartment.

"Yeah! Be down in a sec!" I called back down. I still think this is an awful idea. So many things can go wrong, and probably will. As much as I think I loathe the Winchester's, I don't want to be the reason they die, which could very well happen where we're going. That would just add more souls to my list, that will undoubtedly grow within the next few years.

I changed out of my wrinkled t-shirt into black leggings, a grey long sleeve, and threw on a dark blue plaid flannel. It was getting chillier here in Ohio, it was the first week of September now, so that's when I bring out my comfy flannels. I've come to notice they boys wear a crap ton of it too. I suppose if I'm going to fit in with the company, that's a start. I tried to tame my mane by braiding it and brushed my teeth quickly and hopped down the staircase.

"Leggings?" Sam asked mockingly.

"Why yes. They're extremely comfortable and they're form fitting so they don't catch on anything. It's a strategic move," I slipped on my leather jacket I had hanging and bent down to pull my combat boots on.

"Interesting…" Dean chimed in to the side of me. Blatantly checking me out. I was going to say something, but instead let it happen. I felt the side of my mouth quirk up. I stood back up and saw Sam giving his brother a look of, "Seriously?" without saying a word. At least these guys were entertaining.

I decided to break this kind of awkward tension, "So, have either of you seen Cas?"

"I heard him last night upstairs," Sam said with an almost questioning tone, "Did you, see him?"

"Um, no. Does he do that often, just come into people's rooms when they're sleeping?"

"Yes," both Sam and Dean said immediately.

"Oh. Well that's kind of creepy."

"You just have to get used to his awkwardness."

"I suppose so," I chuckled. I honestly didn't mind him being in there last night. He's been inside my head, my soul, and my conscious. It made me feel a little more at ease, him being here at the same time as the Winchesters.

Sam flopped his long arms on his side, "Well, are we ready then?"

"No," Dean and I said in unison. We looked at each other then back at Sam.

"Okay then, you two go out and I'll be right out," he walked to the door opening it, signifying our departure.

"Fine," Dean and I, once again, muttered at the same time with a sigh. We stopped in our tracks and look at one another again, and just shook our heads.

We got to the parking lot where I instinctively headed to Milo. As I put my hand on his door, I realized something, "Wait, how'd Milo get here?"

"Who?"

"My car," I patted on the roof.

"Oh, Sammy drove her."

"Him."

"What?"

"It's a him."

"Uh-huh…" Dean smirked and walked around the car next to mine and checked Milo over, slowly walking around him. "What make?"

"Volkswagen Beetle." I said with a proud smile. "He's a good car..."

"What year?" He continued around both me and my car.

"'67, it's a good year..." with an even prouder grin.

Dean smiled and nodded. "It's the best year," he slightly chuckled.

"I agree, but why do you say?"

He paused for a moment still looking at Milo. Then he let his head droop and huffed happily.

"What?" I asked giggling curiously. There was just something about this simple smile from him that let my guard down.

He glanced up at me with those bedazzling eyes. A dimple was on the side of his mouth along with freckles on his cheeks. "I wanna show you something." He turned and walked away. I couldn't help but watch him. His back side, from his shoulders all the way to his bow legs, was just so attractive. After blinking out of my fantasy, I followed him around about a dozen more cars.

I gasped in awe. Not many cars rival Milo in my eyes… but this baby was spectacular. "He's gorgeous…"

"She." Dean playfully smirked.

"Touche." I smiled without looking away from Dean's car. I was in the presence of a black beauty; her grill, detailed yet sturdy, her roof, curved in all of the right places, her wheels were bold and showed their proud journey, her frame strong enough to be a home for two boys, with the interior holding those boys' secrets and stories. I ran my fingers across the Chevy symbol and the raised metal that said 'Impala'. "1967 Chevy Impala?"

"Yes, ma'am." He was so proud of this car, as if it was part of the family.

"Wow…" I whispered still gazing at her shining features..

"I know," Dean stood with his arms crossed, feet apart, admiring her just as I was. "She's my Baby."

"How long have you had her?" I was still in entranced.

His face became sort of sad, like the memory hurt, "My dad, he uh, he gave it to me."

His expression made me curious, "What," I ventured, "what happened to him? Your dad I mean."

"He saved my life, on more than one occasion," he murmured looking down. The look he was giving showed that that either wasn't true, or not the whole story, or both. I opened my mouth to inquire, but he looked so angry and sad about the subject of his father, that I shut my mouth and dropped it.

"Well, she's a spectacle," I smiled at him, trying to change the topic and lighten the mood.

"Thanks, she means a lot to me and Sam."

"I can tell."

"What do you mean?"

I held my hand out gesturing to Baby. "Look at the seats, they're worn from long drives and long nights," I paused, he wasn't denying it so I continued, "She's your home, isn't she?" If this car could speak, she probably knew the boys better than anyone.

A faint smile settled on his chiseled face. "Yeah, you could say that." At that time Sam came around a big truck parked next to the Impala.

"There you two are, ready to go?"

"Yeah," Dean grumbled.

"I suppose," I sighed.

"I like the enthusiasm," six-foot-four of concentrated sass right there.

"Let's get this over with," this wasn't going to go well.

…

Cas

What was I going to do? I knew her face from somewhere. I felt like I've known her for years. I had this instinct to keep her safe, just as profound as the connection I had with the Winchesters, like I had saved her somehow. Now I have two feuding sides, even if one side didn't know it yet, and I had to keep them both safe. I had to get away and think. But I couldn't go far. As I was sitting atop the roof of the motel, I saw Trinity and Dean walk out. I couldn't hear them, but they seemed to be being civil. They must have been talking about the Impala. But Dean's face became forlorn so then she said something to change his expression to a smile. She seemed to be really good at that. Sam walked out at that moment and they got in the car. Dean started the engine and they drove off. I had to go with them, I didn't want them to go, but if they were going to, I had to be with them, protecting them.

"Jesus Christ!" Trinity exclaimed, putting a palm to her chest, when I appeared beside her in the backseat of the Impala. The boys upfront laughed.

"No, it's, it's just me," I explained.

"You have to get used to it," Sam tilted his head towards us.

"I don't know what you're thinking, I'm still not used to it," Dean looked across to his brother.

"This is not a smart move, but I figure I should go with you."

Trinity glanced over at me, letting her hand down, and the side of her mouth lifted just slightly to show that she was glad I was coming.

…

We pulled into the overgrown parking lot of an old abandoned factory of some sort.

"That's a pleasant greeting, "Dean nodded towards a fading sign that said, 'Maxwell Meats' with chains and hooks pictured.

"Are you sure you still want to go in?" Trinity popped her head in between their shoulders.

"We've seen worse," Sam replied with an almost questioning tone.

"Does the pizza man work here?" I wondered.

"What?" they all asked at the same time.

I pointed to the sign a little farther back from the industrial one. It had a drawing of a woman in 50s style pinup, fishnet stockings and a riding crop and handcuffs in hand. It read, 'Asmodeus's Asses'.

"Oh," Dean let out, "This might not be so bad," he winked at all of us as we stood up out of the car. He walked forward as Sam rolled his eyes and followed. I took one step and felt a small hand grasp mine. I turned to see Trinity with a look of worry and fear.

"Cas, I need you to stay out here," her eyes, which I now always saw in their true form, pleaded with mine.

"Why?"

"I need someone I can trust out here, if anything goes, awry."

"I should be with you."

"I know, I know, Cas. But I'll call if I need you. Can I ask you to do this for me?"

"Yes." I succumbed. I suppose it gave me time to think some more too. "I'll wait here then."

She pulled me down for a hug and then began to walk off backwards so she was facing me still and put her hands in a praying fashion in front of her chest. She mouthed, "Thank you."

I watched as the three most important things in my creation walked into trouble. Little did we know, a lot more trouble than we thought.