Six. There were six angels left.

Michael had four of them on his side. The only two who weren't there were Cas and someone by the name of Adah. Cas had tried to get in contact with Adah, but she wouldn't respond.

"Okay," Jack said, standing up. "I think my work here is done."

You guys had been sitting for almost an hour, discussing the angels that were now on your hitlist and how to lure them away from Michael and beat them.

"It was nice to meet you, Jack." Jesse was being extremely polite and you got the feeling he actually enjoyed Jack's company.

"You too." Jack smiled as he left, probably going to gossip to the others about all the boring stuff that had happened.

"He seems nice."

"He is," you respond shortly.

"How did you two meet?"

You had pulled out your computer, to move onto the next part of your discussion, but looked up at the question.

"Oh. We were talking to the same therapist for a while."

His eyebrows knit together. "Therapist?"

"Yeah. I mean, we all have problems, don't we?"

He chuckled. "That's true."

You went back to your work, but pushed your computer away again, when you thought about something else.

"What happened to you, may I ask? All I know is what Sam told me about his encounter with you. What did you do after you ran away? How did you survive?"

He bit his lip, but didn't avoid the question. "I eventually ran into these… people. Two hunters, their kid, a vamp, and three witches." You were concerned for a second, but he read your face immediately. "All good people, I promise. They took me in. Taught me to hunt. Helped me figure out my powers."

"That's nice," you said. "Where are they now?"

"The hunters and one of the witches went out on a hunt one day and didn't return. There was an argument between the vamp and the witches on who was going to look after me and the hunters' kid. I couldn't stand it anymore and ran away. I was old enough at the time to survive on my own and I did."

You thought back to the vision you had had when you had first met Jesse. The one of the women and man arguing about protecting a child named Mary Ann. And you realized that they must have not really wanted Jesse. That's why he ran away.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Like you said, we all got problems. What about you? I saw your father in my visions, so you've met him."

You nodded. "Oh yes. In fact, I lived with him for a while." Jesse opened his mouth to say something, but you kept going. "He kidnapped me when I was seven. Right after my mom died."

"How'd your mother die? Something that runs in the family?"

You took in a sharp inhale. What was he hinting at?

"The demons found her," you countered. "Why do you ask?"

He sighed loudly. "Y/N, I saw a lot of your life in visions. I saw you talking to a doctor. I saw you talking to Dean about hospitals. I know something's wrong with you. Something bad. But I don't know what it is."

"It doesn't matter," you snapped.

"I deserve to know," he argued. "We're going to be working together on this, Y/N. If you're going to die on me, I deserve to know."

"I'm not going to die on you."

"How do you know?"

"How do you know you're not going to die on me?" You were being louder than you wanted to. You could only hope that none of the boys were nearby.

"Okay, fine. I'm sorry," Jesse relented.

"It's okay," you grumbled, then showed him your computer. "Here you go. Kim Blanchett. 19. She goes to college in New York City. And, she is in lots of trouble."

"What do you mean?" he asked, inspecting her picture closely.

"Kim here started telling angels that she was the Antichrist. And she was going to kill them all."

Jesse's head shot up. "She's one of us?"

"Yep, and she really pissed off a lot of Michael's angels."

He smirked. "Good. Let's make a statement early."

You rolled your eyes, then took your computer back. "So, we can send her some sort of letter, or you can go to New York and meet her in person."

"Why don't you go?" he questioned.

You tightened your jaw.

You weren't doing well. Obviously no one is when they're dying, but your chest ached often and you always had to quickly wipe your arm off after coughing in it to hide the blood that speckled it. And… you were considering starting to use the chemotherapy.

"I'm not well enough to leave. I should stay in the bunker, in case something happens."

He nodded, though he didn't look happy at all that you wouldn't tell him. He felt like it was his right to know.

"Look, Jesse. I'm not as physically strong as the others," you admitted. "I definitely will get weaker as time goes on. But the reason why is my business. And if you want my help, you'll have to just accept that."

He stood up, said, "I guess I'm going to New York then," and left.

You hesitated to knock on Dean's door. You weren't sure why, but it seemed… odd to be so informal. Then again, none of your interactions with Dean had been "formal" perse.

He opened the door to his room, took one look at you and walked away.

"Come on in," he mumbled, as he sat back down in front of his laptop.

You followed slowly. He didn't seem to be in the best mood and you wondered if you should come back later, but decided this would only take a minute.

"Uhm, I wanted to talk to you about my treatment? I'm willing to take chemo, if you really think I should."

He turned to look at you and smiled slightly. Maybe he was in a better mood than you thought.

Dean really wanted you to start chemotherapy. He thought it was the better option and he wanted you to be around for as long as possible. You figured maybe he thought he could save you somehow, if only he had more time, but you knew that wasn't true.

"That's great Y/N! I'll talk to the doctor and get you set up for the first appointment. I hope it wasn't the money that was bugging you, because like I said, it's not-"

"It wasn't the money," you interrupted.

He looked at you curiously, waiting for you to go on.

"I… Dean, after I found out I was going to die, I stopped worrying, about holding out. It wasn't important because fate is fate, you know?" you chuckled slightly. "And, uh, I figured… If I'm going to die at a certain point, and my decisions have nothing to do with it, I don't want to die… like that."

"Like what?" he asked, scooching forward on his seat.

"Chemotherapy… it destroys your body. Maybe it helps fight off the cancer, but what good is it going to do me? Especially if it's going to make me more susceptible to injury and weaker altogether? I just thought… it's not worth it. But anyway… it's not important. If you think I should, i will. And… I'd like to spend as long as I can with Jack and the rest of you guys. Maybe I really don't want to die so soon."

He stood up and walked over to you. "We don't want you to die either."

He gave you a kiss on the forehead. A sweet gesture that you couldn't have appreciated more. You really were family to these boys.

You thought the conversation might be over after that, but he put an arm around you and had you sit down on his bed.

"Hang out for a minute. I have some things I want to talk about. First being, I wanted to know if you put some thought into telling the others?"

He sat down at his desk chair, across from you.

You sighed. "No, I- I can't. It's just… I love them so much. I can barely look them in the eyes when I think about telling one of them and I can't ask you to do it for me. And I don't want them to see me differently. What if they're mad? WIll they kick me out?"

Dean laughed at the thought. "We won't kick you out, Y/N. I promise. But, I understand. Just please… do it before you die?" It was kind of a joke, but you knew he didn't want to have to break the news to them. Especially at your funeral.

You nodded. "Anything else you wanted to talk about?"

"Yeah actually." He spun around to face his computer. "I need, or you need, a parent or legal guardian to sign off on all of this. And, they already think I'm your brother…"

"So?" you asked.

"So, I think I'm going to have to tell my mom about you."

You pulled back slightly, "What? Are you sure that's a good idea?"

He nodded. "You've met Mary, haven't you? It will be fine, I promise. She won't tell and I'm sure she'll be happy to help."

You bit your lip, hesitantly. "I mean… I guess that's alright."

He stared at you for a moment. "Why are you so afraid of people finding out?"

You didn't answer for a minute. "I don't know. I just- It's always been a secret. My secret. And I'm always worried about people's reaction."

"How was my reaction?" he questioned.

"... fine?"

"See? So why should their's be any worse?"

You didn't have the energy to argue. "Okay, tell Mary. But please… no one else. Okay?"

"Okay."