Angel of Whatever

The rules are simple; there are no rules. I can do things no Supernatural should be able to do. And no one knows why. No one knows where my dad got me, who my mother was, or what killed the only person who might have had answers.

The only thing I know for sure is that if I touch you then I see how you die. No ifs, buts or maybes. Gruesome, peaceful or painful. Soon or a hundred lifetimes away. Everything dies. So why is it I see nothing when I touch Lucan?

Lucan, who pushes every one of my buttons at the same time as being the only one who can calm me. Lucan, who is the only other Fallen Archangel in existence besides the Morningstar. Lucan, whose very existence is as impossible as mine.

He is the very definition of bad boy, but we're drawn to each other like two missing pieces of the same puzzle. And the closer we get, the more our existences start to make sense. The closer we get, the closer the danger gets and it's not only me it's coming for.

Me, the only being in creation who could kill Lucan.