Where did we go? We went to a supercenter…not Macy’s. Macy’s didn’t sound bad, now that I thought about it, but I guess I didn’t mind the supercenter that much. It’s not like these guys were loaded with money, if you don’t include all of the credit card scams, etc, they were relatively broke. That’s fine; I needed to get other stuff besides clothes anyways.

Poor Sammy, he was stuck with me; apparently the Winchesters feared I would be next on the hit list for whatever was killing Interlopers. I tried to explain to them they just died from awful luck, but no one believed me.

I grabbed a few clothes, nothing too inconspicuous, I was trying to think rationally, buying clothes and shoes that’d be easy to run in, underwear that wasn’t for entertainment purposes, and bras…what can I say about the bras?

Well, one thing I can say is I’ve never seen someone’s face turn so red. Sam cleared his throat and looked the other way. I thought this was entertaining, but I tried to let him keep his dignity as I asked, “So what’s Dean up to?”

“Um…he went to go grab dinner.” He said, “We probably won’t stop at a diner tonight, because of what happened last time.” I nodded, still couldn’t keep from smiling. I was a bit big chested, so as I grabbed a size that would fit me; I didn’t think his eyes could widen much more.

“So, much for inconspicuous.” I muttered, and I saw his eyes quickly avert, “Well, listen, I’ve got to go try these on and pick up a few other things. Why don’t you go to Dean, and save your dignity and mine?”

“Well, the thing is…you shouldn’t be left alone.” Sam admitted.

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, go on, I’m not going to get killed in Wal-Mart, I promise,” Sam still didn't move, "Unless you wanna help me try these on, I've still got a bum shoulder you know." I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively, trying to get rid of him. 

Willingly he dug out his cell phone. “Fine, call Dean when you’re done.” I took it and he rushed off.

Finally, I felt so self-conscious with him around. I continued shopping, tried on clothes and got a pair of hiking boots. Those would be a little more realistic. By the time it was done I had grabbed my wardrobe and other necessities.

I when I walked in the direction of the store that Sam and Dean were. Then I paused in the book aisle. There on the shelves lay a leather-bound book. It was a sketchbook, the book held close only by a hide string. It was ten dollars, immediately I took it and flipped through the pages, they were unwritten.

I called Dean’s cell phone since I was unable to find them. They were in the frozen food section, it was a wonder Dean hadn’t grabbed a cart, but he carried everything. A case of beer, oreos, ice cream and pie were piled up to his shoulders. Course, I wasn’t much better. I had clothes draped over my arms and other stuff scooped up into my hands. The leather-bound sketchbook was hugged tightly in my hands.

“So you got everything you need?” I nodded.

We went to the hotel room; we had to stay in the area. The morgue was haunted. The interlopers were dead, I already known, but was I next on the list? They had explained everything to me, the silver burning after it had broken the skin.

 Johnny Cash played the song “Hurt” in the motel room. “What have I become? My sweetest friend? Everyone I know goes away in the end….” We got one room, to share. It was odd, sharing a room with two guys, but I would not complain about my luck.

Our room had a little mini fridge/freezer where Dean stuffed our pie and ice-cream; I was so excited when I saw they were my favorites, apple pie and vanilla ice-cream, yay. They threw me an old duffle bag to put my clothes in; Dean was surprised when he saw the sketchbook.

“What’s that for?” He asked curiously. “Writing?” He must not have paid attention to everything he had paid for.

I turned a shade, “No,” I reasoned. “It’s for sketching, and I’m pretty good at killing time that way.” I had been drawing since I was little, I looked at bits and pieces of things around me, or what I could remember, and I drew them out. It was like clockwork for me. Eat. Sleep. Get Bored. Draw.

“Really, I never took you for the artistic type.” Dean responded.

“Well, why not?”

He chuckled, “You turned up my radio so loud until I thought my ears were gonna bleed. I never thought Thomas Kinkade digged a little bit of ACDC.”

I shook my head, this guy actually knew who Thomas Kinkade was, and that alone was mind blowing. “Thomas Kinkade is good, but he’s a boy. I’ve always liked a little bit of variety.”

Sam lay in the bed, reading. “Well, what types of things do you sketch?”
“Landscapes, buildings, animals...”

“Why not people?”

“Well, I can never get the eyes right, plus people are so…”

“So what?” Sam sat up on the bed.

“I don’t know—vengeful, arrogant? They have more personality that makes them such jerks. I can’t draw someone without thinking of how much easier it is to draw an animal, which doesn’t understand revenge.”

“Wow, that’s deep.” Dean scoffed, “Revenge is what most people run on.”

“Well, I try not to. Though Balthazar’s making it really hard; just dumping me in the middle of the woods when he could have just gotten me a little closer to town.”

“He couldn’t, we had anti-angel signs all over the place.” Sam answered, “He couldn’t have gotten much closer than a mile from town.

I was surprised, “If you did that against angels, why not demons?”

Dean grabbed a beer from the fridge, “Well, those we thought they had enough brains to leave us alone after Castiel became God. The two we ran into did not.”

I thought of how the one who had tried to kill Sam had simply chucked the blade at me instead of choking me with her mind. Maybe they weren’t as smart as Dean thought, least not all of them. I rubbed my shoulder; it was still aching of course. I wondered if we should have picked up some pain meds at the store.

They had told me the story of Castiel, one of their best friends, and an angel. He wanted to open up purgatory to claim souls so he could fight against the opposing side in the angel civil war. Sam and Dean were both against it, knowing it was too much power, but Castiel ignored them, and by obtaining all of the souls, he became what he had been looking for, god.

He made them bow before him, because he was almighty, and it was against everything Dean or Sam ever wanted to do. They bowed before no one before this point. That moment on they knew Castiel was no longer their friend; he was too arrogant for his own good. Before he became God he broke what the Winchesters called the wall in Sam’s mind. Sam almost went into a coma remembering everything from hell. Now that sounded more terrible than I could have imagined.

Now they thought I could help find the Anti-Christ. They believed Jesse Turner would be able to change Cass back, or so they hoped.

It was all up to me.

******What made Castiel become God? When Sam and Dean refused to play their parts in fate, the angels were mad. By not playing their parts, they prevented the apocalypse. The angels wanted the apocalypse, because by this happening there would be peace on earth. But instead; Sam, Lucifer, and Michael the archangel ended up in the pits of hell. Castiel brought Sam back, and he had no memories of hell, and eventually the wall in Sam’s mind holding back those memories collapsed, because of Castiel. Cas wanted a distraction so he could open purgatory, and claim all of the souls inside it. By claiming those souls he became all powerful and prevented the angels from creating another apocalypse. But he also became God, and a stubborn arrogant one. ******