"If either of the Winchesters are going to be here, then I definitely can't be. Not now." She relaxed a touch, leaning against the wall. "I was...lost when I first got here. Dieing will do that to you." She laughed humorlessly. "And who should happen along but Sam fucking Winchester, with his big sad eyes and doofy grin. I made the mistake of trusting him, and I won't do that again," she said with unexpected bitterness. "So if they're coming here, I'm going back to my place, with it's wards and it's weapons. It could probably stand a good airing out anyway. The smell of blood doesn't exactly improve over time."
She looked at him then, in a calculating sort of way. Going without him wasn't exactly a new thing for her. She'd gone years in between their brief encounters. But years to a being that could, in theory, live forever, didn't mean much. Now that he had a set limit on his amount of time on the planet, that felt a bit different. Besides, being with him for a week, seeing him every day, she'd enjoyed it. As uncomfortable as it made her sometimes, as strange and unnatural as their connection was, she'd been happier. She'd felt a kind of purpose that she hadn't had since Lucifer had been sent back to the pit. But it was more than that. She'd felt wanted, not just needed. Try as she might, she couldn't remember ever feeling that way before, not even when she stretched all the way back to the memories of her human life. The only thing that had ever come close was when she'd looked into Lucifer's eyes, and he'd touched her with kindness, and she'd known she'd follow him blindly because for the first time, perhaps the only time, someone had actually cared about her. How fucked up was she that the only beings to ever care about her were both angels?
"Why do you want me to stay here, Clarence?" she asked quietly, carefully studying the tips of her shoes.