I'm still not dead, (I've even written a few one shots while I was away), and I'm so sorry for this chapter. You'll see what I mean. I say this every time, but I'll try to have the next chapter uploaded sooner! Sorry guys, lately I've had days where I just can't write anything because I'm drowning in schoolwork. However, my work load should ease up soon and I go on break in a couple weeks so I'll be (hopefully) writing more frequently. Anyways, enjoy!

Note: Please don't kill me for this chapter.

Everyone sat crowed around Bobby's tiny kitchen table as I bounced my right knee for the hundredth time. Dean kept shooting sideways glances; he definitely knew that something wasn't right. My stomach fluttered nervously as I looked around at all the expectant faces. I was suddenly glad that I had thrown up earlier this morning. Otherwise I would almost definitely be sick right now, which wouldn't really be helping anything.

Hoping for some kind of last minute courage, I looked over and locked eyes with Dean. His brows were knit together with concern, his beautiful eyes undoubtedly asking the question, "Are you okay?"

Whether I was or I wasn't, it didn't matter. Because I was doing this for him– for both of the brothers. They deserved to know their destinies, and my weakness shouldn't be the thing that kept them from that. More than anything, Dean deserved to know. I made a promise to myself then and there that I would tell him, no matter what.

I gave him a small nod, almost smiling as he seemed to relax back against the chair. I felt a rough hand bump against mine under the table and I intertwined my fingers with his.

"Together."

Maybe we wouldn't be by the end of this conversation– but right here, right now, we were together. We would get through this together, and there was nothing I could do to show him how much I loved him for that. For his support– his willingness.

"So," I began with a smile after finally tearing my eyes away from his, "Basically, the angels are dicks."

"Tell us something we don't know," I heard Dean chuckle and I shot him a quick smile before talking again.

"Uriel, Zachariah– they all want their biblical apocalypse to happen," I paused, looking around at the confused faces.

"Who's–?"

"Zachariah?"

I sighed. Of course they wouldn't know who he was yet. "Yeah, he's another angel. Higher up on the chain than Uriel, but not as high as, say, Gabriel."

"Who is…?" Dean looked at me questioningly. I felt my lips curl up in a smirk, "Only the best archangel we'll ever meet. He goes by lots of names though. Gabriel, Loki…. Trickster."

Sam's eyes immediately went wide as Dean sat, putting two and two together. "That son of a bitch is an angel?" Sam snarled angrily.

"Woah, dude," Dean glanced over at his brother, "Chill out."

The younger Winchester laughed bitterly, "You have no idea, Dean. If we ever see that little dickhead again I'll-I'll…"

"Kill him?" I offered, venom working its way into my voice, "Yeah, let's kill one of the few angels on our side, an archangel, keep in mind. Sorry to say that Lucifer's gonna beat you to it after he sacrifices himself to save both of you."

"And that justifies what he did to me? To Dean!?"

"He was being a trickster, Sam!"

"It doesn't give him the fucking right!" Sam roared, "I went months thinking my own brother was dead! But since he protects us one time, everything's fine right?!"

"What the hell's wrong with you!?" I shouted as I got up, not being nearly tall enough to stand up to him, "Do you need another hit, Sam? Is that what it is? How long has it been since you last saw your little bitch?"

Dean jumped in front of me and backed up to put space between us as Sam's expression went dark. "Alright! Both of you just stop!" Dean barked with authority. "It's not his fault, Dean," I teased, "It's just the demon blood talking."

"YOU LITTLE–" Sam took a step forward threateningly.

"Sammy, I swear to God if you so much as touch her I will break your godamned arm," I heard Dean's low growl as he stood so close to his brother, their chests were almost touching.

Having enough anger flowing through me for two people, and one of them being Dean Winchester, adrenaline started to shoot through my veins.

"No, it's fine, Dean. He deserves to know."

"To know what?" Sam spat.

I grinned darkly, "Big whoop, you're drinking demon blood. You think the worst part is that Ruby's tricking you into breaking the last seal and letting Luci outta his box? Nope. I didn't tell you the angels were letting the seals break for no reason. They want their apocalypse, and they're gonna get it."

"What the fuck does this have to do with me?"

"Aw, Sammy it's not just you. Something this big? You can bet all the Winchesters are involved in this one."

Dean turned slightly as I paced around the kitchen and gave him a wicked grin with a wink. I wasn't myself anymore. That much was certain. Having that much anger and darkness inside one person all at once was bound to take its toll. Or maybe I was just like Sam, exhilarated with a power that put me superior. Either way, nothing was excuse enough for what I was doing– but I was too far gone to realize that.

"Angels aren't like demons. They have certain vessels they can possess and only with consent from that vessel. Anything else and the vessels aren't strong enough so they either rot away or explode. So let's think. A vessel with demon blood in it, and let's face it– the Winchesters are obviously vessels, has to have so much power, right? And what better angel to possess such a strong vessel, than Lucifer himself."

"W-What?" Sam choked out.

"That's right Sammy. Not only does your little addiction get him out, it also makes you strong enough to be his true vessel."

I turned towards Dean, his mouth gaping open in shock. "Your turn! Let's see… where do we start? I know! Let's talk about when you got off the rack for your little deal with Alistair. Do you know what the first seal was, Dean? Here's a hint, 'and it is written that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in Hell. As he breaks, so shall it break.' Sound familiar? No, of course it doesn't, Alistair hasn't told you yet."

"I…. broke the seal?"

"First soul you ripped apart. Even John didn't do that." His eyes snapped up to mine, full of unshed tears, "What did you say?"

Shit. What did I just say? I looked around the room slowly. Dean was watching me, pain and hurt and betrayal crossing his face all at once. Sam was looking between Dean and me, his cheeks stained with tears. Bobby still hadn't moved from his spot at the table as he downed another shot, seeming to have given up on the conversation long ago.

I looked back at Dean, guilt flowing through me as I met his hurt eyes. "Dean," I reached out and my fingers brushed his bicep as he clenched his jaw and turned slightly away from me. He shook his head bitterly, "No, please, go on. Tell me what a fuckup I am. C'mon, Ashley, who's vessel am I?

"Dean, I-I didn't mean–"

"Yeah, I'm sure you didn't," he said sarcastically to cover up how much he was hurting, "Well? Who do I have the pleasure of getting possessed by?"

I shook my head, tears filling my eyes to the brim. I told myself that I would tell him no matter what, right? Fate was a bitch.

"Michael," I whispered, clearing my throat and speaking louder so he could hear me, "You're Michael's vessel. You're Michael and he's Lucifer and you're supposed to fight to start the apocalypse."

Sam looked up, his voice thick with emotion, "No, that's… We'd kill each other." I met his muddy eyes, my voice barely audible, "Yeah, that's… that's their plan." He nodded painfully as he turned away from me. "I'm just gonna…." He shook his head again and he took a few steps forward, "I-I'm gonna go take a walk."

I watched Sam walk out of the kitchen and my heart sank as I looked back at Dean. His bottom lip was trembling and tears streaked down his face as he watched me. "This whole time you–" his voice broke as he turned away, "You knew this whole time, and you didn't even say anything."

"Dean–"

"No. No, I-I'm not doing this again." He walked a few steps forward, scrubbing his face with his hands before he turned to look at me again. "All the times I had nightmares and you– you told me that it was fine. You told methat it wasn't my fault."

I looked down at the ground, tears sliding down my cheeks as I remained silent. He was completely right– so why should I try to explain myself? I didn't deserve it, so what was the point? He didn't deserve to have me to stick around and put him through this much pain, so I wouldn't.

He scoffed as he shook his head and turned to walk out the door, mumbling under his breath almost inaudibly as he went, "Fucking ridiculous."

After a good minute of just standing there, I wiped the tears from my face and turned to face Bobby– who was still sitting at the table. My red eyes immediately fell upon the bottle of liquor in front of him as I sat down.

"You gonna drink that?"

O.o

Three days. It had been three long days and two restless nights since the last time I had talked to the brothers– since the fight. I caught glimpses of Sam sometimes as he would wander around and try to find something he hadn't already read. Dean spent all day out in the garage doing who knows what, but I didn't dare to go and find out. Bobby would talk if I ever ended up in the same room as him, but I usually just stayed out of everyone's way.

The nights were worse. It didn't take long for me to figure out why I couldn't fall asleep or get comfortable or stop worrying about a certain person missing from the bed. No matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise, I missed him. Badly.

I knew from the dull ache that continuously radiated throughout my body that we couldn't ever be separated– at least not mentally. We were connected somehow. And as stupid and chic-flic as it sounded, we were soul mates. We really, truly were. The way Dean and I acted around each other and understood each other– it was like we could see each other's souls.

O.o

I rolled over again in the much too big bed, groaning as the small clock displayed 2:03 A.M. in small red letters. You would think that if someone had barely slept in roughly sixty hours, they would pass out from exhaustion. If only it were that easy.

Only wearing a hoodie and a pair of shorts, I crawled out from under the covers and quietly crept out into the hallway. I saw Sam sleeping on the couch as I walked downstairs and I couldn't help but smile. The couch wasn't nearly big enough for him as his legs hung off the side and his arms dangled low. I would have to offer him the bed the next time I saw him.

I continued outside, the cool air swirling around me almost soothingly. I sat down on the steps, figuring there wasn't much else to do, anyways. A faint light was glowing from out in the garage where Dean undoubtedly was. I was debating whether or not to wander out there and find him when a voice spoke behind me and I jumped.

"Isn't it a little late for you to be up?" I let out a sigh of relief as Sam sat down next to me, "I could ask you the same thing."

He chuckled quietly and I cracked a small smile. I looked down at my hands and my face fell as my voice became serious, "I'm sorry, Sam. I-I didn't mean what I said before. It was just, Dean and I together and….. It got outta hand."

"What do you mean Dean and you together? Have you guys been fighting?"

"No, err…. We-we have this thing," I sighed as I saw his confused expression, "Dean and I have this– connection. I guess that's what you'd call it. Sometimes if he's really angry or sad or happy, I can feel it too. I experience the same feelings he has– if they're strong."

I smiled sheepishly as his eyes went wide with surprise. "Well that's….."

"Different?" I offered. He shook his head with a grin, "I'm gonna be completely honest with you, Ashley. That's so fucking weird." I joined in as he started laughing, my stomach hurting by the time we had stopped. I shook my head, "No, but seriously. He was mad and I was mad and we were all yelling at each other. It was just a mess. I'm sorry."

He nodded thoughtfully and looked off into the distance. The only sounds were the crickets sitting somewhere in the darkness. I remembered when I was little and the constant chirping throughout the night annoyed the shit outta me. Eventually I would pull myself out of bed and shut my bedroom window– at the cost of the cool evening air. But now it was almost calming. It was certainly better than no sound at all, and it filled the silence comfortably.

"Do we really have to fight each other?" He asked quietly.

"No, Sam," I shook my head, "Nobody has to be a vessel if they don't want to." His eyebrows knit together as he looked down at the ground, "I have a feeling the angels won't give us much of a choice."

"Even if they don't, you're strong, Sam." He looked up and a small smile pulled at the edge of my lips, "Even with Lucifer possessing you, you're still strong enough to be in control. I've seen it before, Sam. You have a good heart and a pure soul– I wouldn't doubt you for a second."

He laughed as he quickly wiped a tear from his cheek, "You're turning me and my brother soft."

"Yeah well it's good for you guys to take a break from being emotionless assholes every once and I while," I grinned.

"Speaking of Dean, when was the last time you two talked?"

"Since when did you become the relationship counselor?"

He shrugged, "It's entertaining and it's nice to see my brother happy for once." I chuckled and looked down at my hands, my voice quiet when I spoke again, "I haven't seen him since I told him about Michael."

"Seriously?" He laughed as he shook his head, "Both of you are way too stubborn."

"Tell me about it."

"Just go talk to him. He never leaves the garage; I don't think he's even slept."

"Well, that makes two of us then."

"The two of you are being completely ridiculous. Just go make up already."

I looked up sadly and met his dark eyes, "Sammy, I-I'm not going to go talk to him if he doesn't want to talk." He rolled his eyes, "Don't give me that. He's been absolutely miserable and so have you. The thing he wants most right now is for things to go back to normal." My breath caught in my throat, "I-I don't things are really ever going to go back to normal."

"Well, I mean, we can always–"

I shook my head and tears filled my eyes. Damn hormones. "No, Sam, I…"

"Hey," he put his hand on my shoulder, "Hey, Ashley, what's wrong?"

He was looking at me, his eyebrows knit together with worry and his eyes filled with concern. I almost smiled. After everything that had happened, he still forgave me and cared about me like he did his brother. He treated me like a sister. Even with all that had been done to him, he truly was pure at heart. Nothing would ever change that.

I closed my eyes to try to stop the tears as I whispered, "Sam, I-I think I'm pregnant."