Chapter 7: "That rules out the Bunker, a motel room, or sex."

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Lincoln, Nebraska

A week later, Cassandra dragged herself out of bed. She had fulfilled her promise in returning to the mansion directly after Ohio and had been residing there for the past week. She needed space from Dean and this was as far as she could get. Lucifer was free to pop in anytime he wanted without risk, and Dean and Sam could function without having to worry about her.

The Nephilim rubbed her head as she trudged out of her room, fixing her black booty shorts on her way to the kitchen. She cringed, aching all over. All she had done for the past week was train in an attempt to get her mind off of their last case. It wasn't working.

"Amara. Freaking Amara," she grumbled to herself, shaking her head.

"Could be worse."

Cassandra's head snapped up at the sound of Sam's voice, her eyes widening. He stepped further into the room and shrugged, tucking his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"He could be gay for Cas."

"How the hell did you get in?" Cassandra demanded, her gaze shifting towards the closed and deadbolted front door.

"Dean and I still have a key. And he's not here, if that's what you're worried about. He doesn't even know I came here," Sam explained. He sighed and shook his head. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Why? So you could rub it in my face? I get it," she snapped. "The villain never gets the happy ending. No need to taunt me with it." She turned and grabbed a plate from the cabinet, pulling it down before crossing the kitchen towards the freezer where she pulled out of a box of pancake-wrapped-sausages on a stick.

"I think Lucifer is deceiving you. Whatever he promised, it's not worth it. It's not worth losing Dean over."

The Nephilim scoffed as she popped the plate in the microwave, punching in two digits before turning back to Sam. "What's the point? I already lost one Winchester. Why not lose another? What more could I possibly lose? Dean has only God knows what going on with Amara and you see me as the bad guy."

"I don't think you're the villain, Cassy," Sam told her. "And I didn't come here to fight either."

"So why are you here?" Cassandra asked, narrowing her eyes at the Hunter.

"Nothing good ever comes out of you running," he said simply. "I think Ruby proved that and so did Michael. Come back. Dean's a mess without you."

The microwave beeped and Cassandra turned around, tugging it open and pulling out her plate. "He'll be fine. He has Amara to lean back on," she spat, opening the fridge and grabbing the syrup. "And I have a plan to set into action."

"And that is?" Sam asked with raised eyebrows.

"I actually do have allies, Sam. I don't tell you guys everything about my life."

Sam scoffed. "Yeah, you proved that already," he muttered.

Cassandra rolled her eyes. "Look, I need to focus on taking down Amara and I can't do that when I have you guys all over me and making sure I'm okay. I'm not cracked and I'm not broken so stop acting like it. I survived over seven-hundred years without you in the Cage and twenty-six on Earth." She turned back to face Sam. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine!" Sam argued as she walked past him. He followed after her into her room. "This whole case has you messed up and you need someone."

"Who, you? I thought you made it clear I was your enemy." She set the plate down on her bed and she flopped down on the mattress. "Not your friend."

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