We all attended to what we needed to do, before going anywhere to beat Death and collect his ring. I was pretty much ready to go, I was bound to meet Death sooner or later in my life, and it would actually stick. I swayed through the junkyard Bobby owns, and saw the Impala, and Dean rummaging in the trunk of the car. Stocking up on things that they might need.

"The famous Winchester trunk," my voice soars through the air, catching the attention of Dean - who lifted his head up. As I was now standing to the right of him, taking a gander in. "Bit lackluster," I mocked, as a chuckle escaped my lips. I was expecting more than this, but then again, it was a small trunk.

"Sorry it's not up to your standards, Princess," he shot back with a sarcastic tone, making me roll my eyes at the use of the word. "Anyway you, I want to talk to you," I was surprised to hear this from him, after everything. I flashed my eyebrows up briefly, intrigued by his comment. He had stood upright, and faced me. "Sam told me about Aradia,"

"I expected nothing less," I retorted, knowing that this was a possibility. "I don't want to talk about it," I was trying to dismiss his interest in this, as I wasn't partially feeling up to chatting about an Archangel - when they don't even know she's an Archangel. But I guess Cas was going to explain that real soon once I'm gone.

"Then I guess I'm going to thank you," words that I didn't think was possible to hear from Dean WInchester. "After everything, you're still here, still helping. I don't think we can do this without you," I could see in his eyes that he was truthful, and his tone just made it even more believable.

"You literally can't do it without me," I reminded him with a soft laugh. "But thank you," a smile etched onto my face, tugging at the corner of my lips, as I couldn't hold it back. My gaze softened, as a feeling washed over my heart - not a pain, nor discomfort, but something warm and fluttery. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sam approaching the Impala, but I think Dean also heard him coming, so he returned to moving around boxes of ammunition, and other things. Sam walks by both of us and places his back against the Impala, staring off before taking a sigh.

"Let me guess. We're about to have a talk," Dean states, coming around me, and coming to the side of his brother - knowing him so well. Sam just chuckles at the fact he knew him so well.

"I'll leave you to it," I announce, smiling at both of them, before flourishing my hand up, engulfed in black smoke. I reformed in the living room of Bobby's, but the first face I saw when the smoke faded was that of Crowley's. Which instantly made me frown at him.

"You really do have a thing for them," he states, a soft bellow coming from him. "Should I go as far as say 'care'?" His laughter only continued into his words, finding it humorous that a demon could care.

"Must be my humanity," I was smug in my reply, finding Crowley to be a little annoying. But he just gave me this look that I just wanted to slap off his face. "What do you want me to say Crowley? That I care for them? That I can't seem to be rid of them, no matter how hard I try?" I was playing along with his little game, to dig for information, for me to slip up and finally admit my true feelings about it all.

"I think everyone in Hell knows where you stand," he remarks. "Besides, you're only half-demon, that humanity rattling inside your head. I can't even imagine how you did it back in the good old days," he was referring to the beginning of my reputation. Word going around the demon circles, and that of Hell, that there was a new bitch in town.

"I can't change what I did," I replied, staring him down. "And I know you're already thinking about spilling the beans on my past to them. But don't you dare," I took a few steps closer to Crowley, eyes like daggers.

"Stay on my good side," he threw me a cheeky wink, before disappearing in a single blink. I groan in frustration as he has no right dishing out secrets about me, nor has the right to bring up my past. If we didn't need him right now, I would ring his neck, and send him packing...

...........................

Night had descended, and I was outside with Cas, and Bobby, collecting the final bits. Dean would go with Crowley to kill Death and get his ring, while Cas, Bobby, Sam and I head to the distribution of the vaccine of 'swine flu'. Which was really filled with the croatoan virus. So it made more sense for me being there than greeting Death like an old friend. I threw my leather jacket into the van, as I noticed Cas walking closer to the van with a long face on him. He then sighs, meaning he had something on his mind.

"What's your problem?" Bobby bet me on the question, as Cas just stared straight ahead.

"This is what they mean by 'The eleventh hour,' right?" He questioned, not even bothering to turn to face Bobby while he spoke.

"Pretty much," Bobby responded.

"Well, it's the eleventh hour, and I am useless," Cas states, only because he had no angel juice and was like the rest of them. "All I have is this," Cas slightly raised up the shotgun he was given by Bobby. "What am I even supposed to do with it?" He had never held a gun before.

"Point it and shoot," Bobby retorts, with a 'duh' expression on his face.

"What I used to be –"

"Are you really gonna bitch – to me?" Cas twisted his head to meet Bobby's gaze, as his predicament wasn't ideal, but he wasn't bitching about it. I've already told him that he didn't need his wings or his mojo to be useful. "Quit pining for the varsity years," Bobby rolled on over, before stopping inches in front, and throwing up his duffel bag to Cas who caught it. "And load the damn truck," Bobby wasn't having any of it, and put him to work. So his mind wouldn't wonder. I watched as Bobby rolled off, and held a smirk on my face, but I offered my help in loading the truck.

In no time the truck was loaded, and now we were standing outside of it. Dean slammed shut the trunk of the Impala, and turned his head to face us.

"All right, well... Good luck stopping the whole zombie apocalypse," Dean offered us luck, but he was also making it humorous. Classic Dean.

"Yeah," Sam replied. "Good luck killing Death," if I didn't know Dean, I would say he would die before getting anywhere close to Death.

"Yeah," if Dean wasn't in this line of work, he would surely think we're all mad. Sam suddenly chuckles softly from the side of me, bringing his gaze back to his brother.

"Remember when we used to just... Hunt wendigos? How simple things were?" Sam questioned aloud, as to him those were simpler times.

"Not really," Dean replies, shaking his head briefly.

"Well, um," Sam reaches from the back of his jeans waist, before pulling free Ruby's knife. "You might need this," he took a few steps closer to Dean, holding the metal of the knife, handle out towards his brother.

"Keep it. Dean's covered," Crowley appeared from thin air, holding up a small scythe. "Death's own," Dean grabs the scythe from Crowley, as it was only handheld. "Kills, golly, demons and Angels and Reapers. And rumor has it, the very thing itself," it was an immense weapon for sure.

"How did you get that?" Cas's tone seemed concerned, as it wasn't just a weapon laying around for anyone to take.

"Hello – King of the crossroads. So, shall we?" Crowley wanted this over and done with as quickly as possible. "Bobby, you just gonna sit there?" He turned his attention onto Bobby.

"No, I'm gonna riverdance," Bobby remarks, not finding it hilarious.

"I suppose if you want to impress the ladies," Crowley made the snide comment, but everyone was just looking at him. "Bobby, Bobby, Bobby. Really wasted that crossroads deal. Fact - you get more if you phrase it properly. So, I took the liberty of adding a teeny little sub-a clause on your behalf," I think they were catching on to what Crowley had done. "What can I say? I'm an altruist," I couldn't help but snicker at his choice of words. "Just gonna sit there?" Crowley gave him a side glance, and with that. Bobby began to move his feet, and placed his feet onto solid ground. Before we knew it, he shot to his feet, finding his balance with ease.

"Son of a bitch," he couldn't believe he was walking right now.

"Yes, I know. Completely worth your soul. I'm a hell of a guy," Crowley responds, but this was of course wool over their eyes. Making them believe Crowley could be somewhat trustworthy. But he's a demon at the end of the day.

"Thanks,"

"This is getting maudlin... Can we go?" Then he ruined the perfect moment, finding it not to his taste. Which I could agree with, we didn't have time for this. It was time to stop a 'zombie' outbreak, and kill Death in one swoop. What could go wrong?

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