"Cupid's Swan Song"

***A/N- Hello there! This is my first fanfiction I have ever written (except some I wrote when I was 11 that I have expunged from my memory). This has been an idea that's been bouncing about it my head for a few days and I decided to write it down. I hope you enjoy! As per the norm- The characters from Supernatural are not mine and I do not own them. The only thing I own is my OC, Jewel and her family/doctors. Thank you! ***

Chapter One

*Crowley's POV*

Pushing the old metal cart over to the matching metal table or "slab", Crowley grimaced internally at the sound of the creaking and was grateful when he reached the side of the slab. Taking the white folded apron off the top of the cart, he slid it on over his head and tied it just so. The devil is in the details... he thought to himself and chuckled darkly before picking up the silver angel blade he had confiscated from one of the poor feathered bastards slain during the apocalypse and looked at one of the said feathered bastards strapped to his table, Enochian sigils carved into the black leather straps across his chest, arms, legs, and neck.

"So...cherub, care to tell me about dear old daddy's special place for all the things that go bump in the night?" He watched the panicked look spread across the face of the cupid laying before him and he got a jolt of pleasure from it.

"Please...I-I- I don't know what you're talking about! I'm just here to spread love! That's the only thing that matters in this world. You-" the cupid spat up some blood in a coughing fit before continuing, "you only care about power...all of your kind do. But what about at the end of the day? Does that power keep you warm at night? In your bed? Does it make you HAPPY?" The angel's voice gets louder as he got more passionate about his monologue. Crowley couldn't help but laugh.

"Listen, feathers, I'm a bloody DEMON. I'M THE KING OF HELL! I don't have feelings you incompetent little speck! Love means less to me than your existence, YOU UNDERSTAND ME? Now for the LAST BLOODY TIME. DO. YOU. KNOW. WHERE. SODDING. PURGATORY. IS?" Crowley punctuated the last seven words with deep cuts to the angel's chest, watching white light spark and fade with each cut. The Cupid's screams echo through the dingy white room before he begins to cry heaving sobs, making Crowley sigh loudly.

"Bloody hell..." Crowley says under his breath. In between ragged breaths, the Cherub speaks,

"I don't know where purgatory is! I don't even know what that is. I swear it. Just let me go! I have so much more love to create! So much happiness. You! You're on the list too!" With the last statement Crowley snaps his head down to to look at the prat.

"Excuse me, what was that last bit? Did you just say I'M on the list?"

"Oh yes! I knew you would be happy! And she is just lovely, she will bring you much happiness. Well of course she will. It's destiny" The Cupid's face lit up with the sheer glee of thinking about love and all of it's 'gifts'.

"Name?" Crowley spat out as if the mere words were poisonous.

"Huh?" His prisoner said as he was broken out of his love-induced haze.

"THE NAME OF THE GIRL WHO WILL BRING ME 'SO MUCH HAPPINESS'. MOTHER OF SIN, YOU ARE DENSE." Crowley takes in a deep breath and forces his face and temper to go back to neutral as he sees the other man shut his eyes and cringe at his gruff demeanor. Damn these Cupid's are a sensitive lot.

"Lydia Vincennes. You'll really lo-" the Cupid was cut off as Crowley plunged the Angel blade into his chest and bright white light encompassed the room causing the Demon to cover his eyes with his arm as the blast past.

"Useless sodding Cherub" Cleaning off his hands, he calls for some of his servants to take away and dispose of the vessel and then promptly went to find another angel.

Now I'm going to have to stick my neck out.

Flashing to a suburban backyard, he watched the trench-coated man from behind before saying,

"Ah, Castiel, angel of Thursday. Just not your day, is it?"

"What are you doing here?"

"I want to help you, help me, help ourselves."

"Speak plain." the Angel replies.

"I want to discuss a simple business transaction, that's all."

"You want to make a deal...With me. I'm an Angel, you ass. I don't have a soul to sell."

"But that's it, isn't it? That's all of it. It's the souls...It all comes down to the souls in the end, doesn't it?"

"What in the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Raphael's head on a pike, I'm talking about happy endings for all of us with all possible entendres intended. Come on, just a chat..."

*Jewel's POV*

"Ms. Vincennes? The doctor will see you now." The slim nurse said, holding Lydia's thick medical record in her hand.

Lydia stood up and smiled at the nurse before following her back to the scale and purposely looking up at the ceiling to avoid seeing her weight. They walk into a small exam room and she sits on the edge of the plastic 'ergonomic' black chair next to the exam table.

"I need to take your blood pressure, Lydia. What arm would you like me to use?"

"You can call me Jewel, it's my middle name and that's what everyone calls me anyways." She smiled politely before adding in, "oh, and whatever arm is easiest for you."

The nurse makes quick work of getting her vitals and recording them before shutting her file and standing up.

"The doctor will be in here to speak with you shortly." With one last smile, the door is shut and Jewel is alone with her thoughts.

Fingering a chestnut brown wave words float through her mind: leukemia...cancer...radiation...chemotherapy...adv anced stage...terminal...

Forcing herself to get out of that line of thinking, she starts to hum a few bars of a Debussy composition in a desperate attempt to center herself and regain composure of her thoughts and emotions. She was still doing this task when the doctor opened the door and strode in the room, all young confidence and swagger.

"Ms. Vincennes! Lovely to see you today. You look just radiant." A large phoney grin spreads across his face and Jewel begins to shrink inside from the lascivious air about him.

"Hello, Dr. Marshalls, how are you?"

"Resplendent, my lovely girl. And yourself?"

"I'm fine. Just nervous." Jewel catches herself chewing on the inside of her cheek and stops it.

"Oh yes, of course you are. Well lets get to it, shall we?" The young doctor claps his hands together before sitting on the wheeled stool and opening her file. She watches him read her file, scrutinizing his facial reactions and the small change in his mannerisms. She watched his smile slowly falter and he begins to fiddle with him pen. This isn't good.

Dr. Marshalls turns back towards Jewel after a moment and his face is ashen. Wheeling his stool over to her, he looks her in the eyes before speaking.

"Ms. Vincennes- Jewel...the tests weren't positive. I don't want to beat around the bush so I'll just give it to you straight. The leukemia is back...and it's very aggressive. I'm not quite sure how it has multiplied so fast in your blood but it has...I'm so sorry."

It felt like a thousand pounds were on her chest and she could vaguely feel water pool in her eyes as the news slowly sunk in and then hit her all at once. She took a deep breath in and looked him square in the eyes.

"I see. So what are my options?"

"Well, we are going to attack this hard and fast. As many rounds of chemo and radiation as we can give and hopefully try some genome testing to help personalize this treatment. We aren't going to give up and myself and my team will be fighting tooth and nail to battle this illness, you have my word."

Jewel felt like she wasn't in her body as she nodded her head and gave a weak smile. She went through the motions of continuing the conversation with Dr. Marshalls and agreeing to come in the day after next for her first radiation treatment. Somehow she made it to her small Volkswagen Beetle and drove to her house. Getting out of the car, she waved at some neighbors and got to the door. Unlocking it she saw her mom cooking dinner and a new thought hit her, how am I going to tell my parents I'm sick again? That it's aggressive? I can't I just can't I can't I can't I can't.

Collapsing into the dining room chair, Jewel begins to cry and within moments her mom, Phoebe, is crouched down beside her, rubbing her back and asking what's wrong.

"It's back, mom. The cancer. It's back...and it's so much stronger." that was all she got out before the sobs overtook her.

Two weeks later

Jewel lay in the hospital bed as she finished her radiation treatment for the day and waited for lively, healthy, Dr. Marshalls to come in. Her mom was sitting on her right and her father on her left. Each with pained and concerned looks on their faces that made her heart ache. Jewel felt nauseous and dizzy but that was par for the course nowadays. She must have dozed off because she felt groggy when the doctor finally made his entrance with an older doctor whom she had met twice before, Dr. Weston.

"How's our patient doing?" Dr. Marshalls says with over enthusiasm while the older doctor just smiles kindly.

"I'm very tired and I feel nauseous but I know it could be a lot worse." Jewel sputters out, weakly. Everyone in the room gives her that pitying smile that she hates and she would have said something if she didn't feel too weak to even speak.

"Well we all know what a fighter you are, Jewel. We got the blood tests back this afternoon..." Dr. Marshalls begins but is stopped when his fellow doctor puts a hand on his shoulder and shakes his head. Dr. Marshalls steps back as Dr. Weston steps forward and sits on the end of my bed.

"Jewel, we know how hard you've been fighting and you are truly an inspiration and testament to the human spirit. The tests show that the high doses of radiation and chemo haven't stopped the spread and your scans show the cancer has spread to your lungs. The radical treatments have been ravaging your body and I don't believe your body can take another two weeks on this regimen. At this point, I think we should try for palliative care..."

Jewel could hear the ragged breath to her right and she looked over to see her mom with tears falling down her face and Jewel moves her hand over to her mom's arm and touches her to get her attention, smiling weakly she takes her mom's hand in hers.

"Momma, it's okay. Don't cry, momma. We'll get through this. I'm not going to give up." She nods at her mom and puts on a brave face as her mom nods back before hugging her tightly. She begins to cough and her mom pulls away quickly as Jewel struggles to regain her breath.

"Mr. and Mrs. Vincennes, if I could have a word with you real quick outside the room? I believe Jewel needs to rest some more." Dr. Marshalls said and her parents each gave her a kiss on the forehead and filed out of the room.

Jewel had forgot about the other doctor until she felt him sit back down on her bed. She looked over at him and he was staring at her intensely.

"Are you alright, doctor...?" Jewel croaked out and seemingly sprung him out of his reverie.

"Ms. Vincennes... I'm going to tell you something and I know it's going to sound crazy but I need to let you know that I only have your best interest in mind."

Jewel stared at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Um, okay... What is it?"
"I had a patient once...he was a bit older than you and had advanced stage colon cancer when one day he just got better. I thought it was a miracle but he came to me later that day and told me he had made a deal. He went to a crossroads and buried a box with his picture, a bone, and graveyard dirt in it in the ground of the crossroads and a man appeared. He said he would cure him, but for a price...he had 10 years before he would come for his soul."

Jewel glared at the doctor.

"Listen mister, I don't take kindly to tall tales..."

"It's not a tale! I thought the same until a year ago when my wife was in a car accident, a drunk driver hit her head on and she was in critical condition, they didn't believe she would make it. In a panic I remembered what my patient had said and I tried it out of desperation. And it WORKED. Someone really did appear and I was able to make a deal. My wife was healed and she has been in perfect health ever since. I am imploring you to at least try it. You are too young for such a fate and this may be your only option. Please say you'll at least think about it?"

Jewel could feel the desperation almost pouring off this man in waves and for some reason, she believed what he said.

"Fine, I'll think about it. Thank you for the suggestion, Dr. Weston...now I really must sleep-" she hadn't even finished the sentence when she passed out into darkness.

She dreamed of illness and death and darkness.

When she awoke she was in her bedroom, tucked under the covers of her bed. Just as she was getting her bearings, she had another coughing fit. Staggering out of bed, she stumbled into her en suite bathroom and hacked into the sink, seeing pure bright red blood splatter into the sink. She felt deep and sharp stabbing pains in her chest Leaning against the door frame, she thought back to what the doctor had said. Bones, graveyard dirt, picture...well I don't have anything else to lose, do I? I can try and fix this or I can cough my lung out in this bathroom and maybe not live through the night.

Even with that dire situation it was the look of utter despair on her mom's face that urged her into her bedroom and shoving her feet into sneakers and grabbing a photo on her desk of her and her parents at the hard rock hotel only a few months ago. Oh, how things change...

Shoving the picture into her purse, she slowly made her way downstairs, her head swimming a bit and trying to suppress coughs. Walking out the door she headed to her car where she found a dead crow by her house. Working up the nerve and retrieving some gloves from her home, she walked to the bird and quickly got any bone she could grab onto first. Tears streaking her face, she thanked the bird for it's sacrifice and swore she would come back and make it a proper grave.

After dry-heaving in the bushes, she made it into the car with her loot in her bag. She drove to the small local cemetery and parked her car. She rummaged in the back for a flashlight and found it then lumbered out of the car and into the graveyard. Hoping any dirt from within the cemetery would work, she began to dig and grab a handful when she remembered she still needed a box. Cursing to herself she walked to her car and looked all through it before stumbling upon a metal altoids case. Thanking whoever was watching over her, she got the last remaining item and then was confronted with where she could find a crossroads. She started the car once more and started down the road, not really having a plan but refusing to go home. Miracle of miracles, she just happened upon a dirt crossroads about five miles down the road from the cemetery with nothing around it. She cut the engine and got out of the car as the humid air enveloped her in a hug. The damp air made her cough once more and she ended up falling to her knees in the middle of the crossroads from the force of her coughing. With shaky hands she dug into the dirt and gravel, not caring that she was cutting her hands and fingers to bits. Tucking the small box in the hole, she covered it up and slowly made her way up. Breathing in a large gulp of summer air, she felt the energy around her change and become darker somehow. Turning around she saw she was no longer alone. Jumping back she stumbles and almost falls but just as suddenly the man was behind her, catching her elbows and steadying her. Holy shit! It worked.

Turning around she took in the man before her with wide eyes. He was of average height for a guy, meaning he towered over her five foot nothing form and had a bit of a stomach on him but it suited him actually. He was older, maybe about mid-forties and had a bit of a five-o'clock shadow on his face. His hair was short and dark though she couldn't make out his eyes in the dark. She saw he was dressed sharply in what appeared to be an expensive suit which made her self conscious about her own apparel; her blue long sleeved night shirt with a kitten on the front and her sneakers. Fuck it, I'm dying and here to sell my soul, I don't think there's a dress code.

The man smiles, noticing her staring and she quickly looks at the ground. She could swear she heard him chuckle.

"What can I do for you, darling?" the man says with an English accent. She peeked up at him to see him staring at her with an unreadable expression. Well here goes nothing...

"I'm Lydia Vincennes and I need to make a deal."