A Supernatural spin off and 5 Seconds of Summer AU.

Kit is a seventeen-year-old teenager. But she's not just any seventeen-year-old. She knows she's not 'normal' but what she doesn't know is that her father isn't really her father and the life she's living was just a cover up to protect her true identity.

A prophecy had been written long before she was born and there is no way avoiding fulfilling it. With the help of the Winchester brothers, the angel Castiel, the King of Hell Crowley, and a few bullies-turnt-friends from school, she is about to uncover the whole truth - who she is and the kingdom she is entitled to.

But a dark force is lurking and what it wants is her blood in exchange for infinite power. There is a bigger battle than angels and demons that will tip the balance of good and evil. One Nephilim will decide the fate of the five worlds - Heaven, Hell, Earth, Purgatory and Limbo - and claim her title. The question is: can she?

Disclaimer: The storyline is very much originally my own imaginations and idea. I only incorporated the Supernatural characters and 5SOS into it. Midnight is based on a character in the movie Constantine. Other than mentioned are my own characters.

Heavy breathing.

Heavy footsteps.

Running.

    The sound of crunching leaves beneath her feet was deafening in the silence of the night but she paid no heed. Her heart was racing a mile a minute, her legs aching and begging her stop and rest. But she didn't; she couldn't. One hand was resting on her stomach, more like cradling; the other held out in front of her as she ran through the trees, half blinded by the darkness.

    Run, Haniel! I'll slow them down, give you enough time.

    Cain's last words to her reverberated in her head, the only thing that kept her forward. Tears sprang in her eyes but her vision was never clear to begin with so she didn't bother wiping them away. She blinked a few times instead and with every tear that fell, her heart broke. She would never see him again. Her hand tightened on her stomach. She will never get to know him.

    Her outstretched arm brushed something and she stopped dead in her track. She started fumbling to where she felt it, both palms now tracing the tree trunk to her left. A mark had been carved into it from months back; preparation made but never would have thought to be used this early. A sharp pain jolted through her body and she doubled over, biting on the inside of her cheeks from screaming out. She breathed in deeply, eyes screwed shut. Her right hand came over her stomach once more. It was time.

    She straightened up. She looked around the area until she spotted a charred tree not too far up, marking the entrance to a hidden hollow in the earth big enough for her to squeeze through. Quickly, she made a bolt for it as fast as her body allowed her to go now that the contraction was coming much frequent. She looked at the black hole on the ground for a second, remembering how she foolishly thought she would never have to use it. She looked up once more, scanning the area before disappearing through.

***

Dark hair, small mouth.

    Haniel carefully trace her finger across the newborn's cheek. She let out a loud sob before clamping her mouth shut again. Oh, Cain, she's beautiful. Her finger softly ran from the baby's forehead down her nose and she squirmed then, scrunching her face before settling down again. She didn't cry when she came in kicking into this world but Haniel knew she was healthy. It's been a couple of hours yet the baby still slept, her tiny fingers wrapped around her own; like an anchor to her sanity. But her heart ached as she knew she won't be able to stay for long. Again, the baby fidgeted, her small hands rubbing on her cheeks. Her tiny head moved left to right, her eyelids fluttering as if she's dreaming.

    "Katarra," cooed Haniel softly. As if she was summoned, the baby's eyes fluttered opened. Two amethyst eyes stared straight into Haniel's blue ones and an understanding flickered through the younger pair. Haniel smiled though her eyes were brimming. She planted a kiss on Katarra's forehead, the spot glowing blue softly before fading away. A mother's love. Haniel whispered, "I will see you again one day, I promise."

    A crunching noise from above signalled that they were no longer alone. It also meant that their time together was up. Haniel held her baby daughter close one more time before starting the climb up out of the hollow, Katarra in her arm as silent as if she too knew what to come.

    Haniel emerged from the hole with the baby safely wrapped in the piece of cloth she had ripped from her skirt. Clutching tightly to the bundle, she looked up at the man who stood waiting two feet away, his eyebrows knitted together. They locked eyes.

    "It's time," he said, his voice barely audible.

    Haniel turned her glance back to her child, looking at her longingly. She traced her thumb on her forehead where she kissed her earlier. She took a sharp, deep breath but it felt like all the air in the world was gone and she couldn't breathe. With tears in her eyes and with her heart reduced to almost nothing, she thrust the bundle into the man's arms. She took a few steps back as if she didn't trust herself, as if she was a danger to the baby.

    "Go." Her voice came out sharp and loud, her hands in fists by her sides. "They're near. Go!"

    He was gone.

    She took another long inhale of breath, breathing out slowly as she closed her eyes. The ground beneath her started to hum and shake as their presence became closer. Both light and dark coming for her, to punish her for what she did years ago. They both knew this day would come, she and Cain were prepared for it. But years of planning didn't prepare her for the pain she felt at that moment. But that was okay. At least she had something to die for, something worth sacrificing her life for. She was ready.

    And as both light and dark came over her, she revealed the carvings on her chest and as her energy focused, she pulled out the angel blade. Katarra's face flashed across her mind and without another hesitation, she plunged the blade deep into herself, releasing the focused energy out, enough to take out half of the army and crippled the rest.

    And by then, Katarra would be long gone.

Another Thursday.

    The school groundskeeper was busy mowing the lawn, meticulously going at it one strip at a time with a pair of noise cancelling headphones resting around his neck instead. Teenagers were randomly scattered all over the place, some in groups, some not; different conversations mixing together in the air creating that subtle background noise you hear but never paid attention to. Somewhere in the students parking area, a car had its stereo obnoxiously up loud, the bass a sort of a thump-thump-thump you can feel in your chest. By the entrance, a group of cheerleaders were handing out flyers, probably of the upcoming pep-rally, their energetic chatter annoying anyone in the vicinity.

    But Kit wouldn't have heard all these. The only thing she heard was Patrick Stump strong vocal in her ears coming from the iPhone she held in the hand she had stuffed in her denim jacket pocket. Her head kept low, she walked with her eyes trained on the pavement instead, carefully making her way through the throngs of people unnoticed. But they probably do; jumping out of her way as they saw her approached. But Kit wouldn't have noticed that either. She wouldn't notice how the cheerleaders got quiet went she passed by only to go back full volume once she was out of sight. She would have though if Patrick wasn't still in full swing about being immortal, but she made sure that the list of songs went in a loop enough time to get her from the bus to her locker.

    The bell rang shrilly in the background, loud enough for her to hear it and pulled out her ear buds. As she approached her locker, she breathed a heavy sigh. Michael Clifford was at his locker which happens to be her neighbour and where Michael was, trouble is not far behind. As if on cue, his posse came bounding towards him: Ashton the Oaf, Calum the Dickhead, Luke the Blonde Pole. Kit rolled her eyes, steeling herself to ignore the jocks as she unlocked her locker. As she rummaged through her stuff, she try to block out the conversation they were having right next to her; Calum bragging about some girl who he banged last night, Luke and Ashton rating some other girls that they might or might not invite to their party this weekend.

    Wow, thought Kit, these guys are unbelievable. She fought the urge to roll her eyes but decided to just be quick and get the hell out of there as the halls were getting emptier by the second. Soon it would be just her and them and that doesn't seem like a pleasant thing. Then their voices died down and from the corner of her eyes she could see Calum eyeing her. Crap. She slammed her locker shut, turning around only to face Ashton and Luke. They surrounded her.

    She glanced at Calum then, silently telling herself to calm down. Calum smirked.

    "Running a little late, witch," drawled Calum, one elbow resting on Michael's shoulder.

    "I don't have time for you, Cal, sorry," she spat back, giving Calum a once over before turning around to walk away. But Luke stood in her way, arms crossed. She looked back at Calum. "Tell your blonde pole to get out of my way."

    Again, he smirked as if something was amusing him. He looked at Luke and gave a slight nod and the tall one shifted. "Freak," he breathed out.

    Kit gave him a mock smile but before she walked away, she glanced at Michael who only stood by and watch, his face unreadable staring at her. Disgusted, she marched off to class. But she won't be able to get far: they had been her classmates since first grade.

History class is where all the monotonous lectures went on for hours on end, the teacher too in love with his own voice to notice that only Lucy Tan in the front row was the only one actually paying attention and even she had stopped taking down notes, only to twirl the pen in her hand. Kit was doodling on her notepad, one earbud in but not really listening to Taylor Swift. Her left hand was moving automatically, drawing. Her mind was elsewhere, wondering about her dad who left to work a case a week ago. The last time he called was three days ago to check up on her.

    "Group project!"

    Kit jolted back to the present and looked up. Mr. Freeman had obviously finished today's lecture and finally realised the whole class had gone to sleep. He didn't seem to care as he was writing down something on the board. "I want you all to work in groups of five and the projects you will work on together throughout the term will determine whether you'll get an A or see me again next term," he was saying. "Pick your team, hurry."

    As people moved around the classroom picking out their own cliques as members, Kit sat back in her seat, her eyes roaming the room, waiting but not really anticipating to be picked. She looked down again at her notepad then stopped short. She frowned, looking at the page she had been doodling on earlier. The page was filled with gibberish and stick figures but in the middle of it, filling up the page from top to bottom was a long dark line with a broader top like a hilt to a sword. She stared at it longer; it looked like a sword with wings. Did I draw that?

    "Miss Constantine?" Kit looked up to find Mr. Freeman looking at her.

    "Sorry, what?" replied Kit, pulling the earbud off as subtly as she could. The teacher didn't look amused.

    "Well, if you weren't so engrossed in your own notes, you would have heard me asking your opinion on joining Mr. Hood and his," he glanced at the back of the class before continuing, "team. But you missed the question so I'm assuming you're alright with that."

    Kit gaped at him. "Wait, no, I-"

    "Too late, Constantine," the teacher cut in. "It pays to pay attention, you know."

    Kit bit on her tongue to retort back, her fists under the table. The bell rang just in time and she snatched her bag and stormed out, not bothering to look back at the jocks. She stopped by her locker to retrieve a different book for the next period, hurrying as to not bump into them again but luck wasn't on her side.

    "So," Calum said as they came near her. "Your place later tonight? How's that sound?"

    Kit shut her locker and turned to him. "You're not going anywhere near my place."

    "Aw, c'mon," he purred. "Don't be such a bitch."

    "How about that bar, Midnight?"

    Both Kit and Calum turned to look at Michael but he was looking at his phone. Kit looked incredulous. "A bar? Are you serious?"

    Michael looked up but not at her. He faced his friends. "Play pool while she takes notes? First game on me."

    Ashton grinned. "Sounds good to me."

    Calum regarded Kit from the corner of his eyes and registered the disagreement in her face. He smiled maliciously at her. "The bar it is, then."

    She snorted. "Yeah, right, as if. Have fun, then." She started to walk away but Calum caught her arm.

    "If you're not there then we'll tell Freeman you didn't want to cooperate as a team," said Calum in a tone of mock upset. "Simple as that, Constantine."

    Kit shook off his arm. They stared at each other. She walked away.

    The boys watched her go, sniggering to each other. All except Michael who stared at her for all the different reasons, his face a look of concern.

***

Midnight's.

    Kit looked up at the blue neon sign and heaved a sigh. She glanced back at her phone in her hand. No text, no calls from dad. Where are you? She stuffed the phone back in her jeans pocket and made her way towards the entrance. The bouncer, a big burly man with a goatee in plaids, eyed her silently in recognition, his hands crossed in front of him. Marty nodded at her once before unhooking the rope barrier to let her through.

    Once inside, Kit's eyes took only a second to adjust to the dim lighting. Most people wouldn't understand why a bar like this would even need a bouncer but Midnight has his ways and reasons and Marty wasn't just your typical bouncer. There were quite the crowd tonight, busy but not loud. The jukebox was playing in one corner, an old classic rock that no one really paid any attention too. Waitresses in cropped denim shorts and tanks so low their breasts might spill out roam around the room balancing trays of food and drinks on the palm of one hand.

    Kit looked over to the bar. Every seat was occupied but no sign of the four knuckleheads. Then she remembered Michael mentioning about playing pool. She made her way to the far left side of the vast room. All four pool tables were in the middle of a game each and it took her awhile to finally make out which table the boys were at. Really, they blended in so well. Just then Luke saw her and nudged Calum in the rib. The boys looked over as she made her way to them.

    "Was afraid you won't make it," said Calum with a half-smile on his face as he leaned against his stick. "Ash's not playing so you can grab one if you like."

    "No, thanks," she replied curtly. She pulled up a chair from the diner area and placed it at one side of the pool table. Sitting down, she pulled out her notepad and a pen. "Let's just get on with what we're here for, shall we?"

    Calum laughed. "We're here for pool."

    Kit rolled her eyes. "What I'm here for."

    "Right," he said, then to Michael, "You break this time. Second game."

    Michael made his way to the edge of the table, his eyes locked on the racked balls as he leaned over the table to take his shot. Kit looked away, uninterested, just as the cue ball made contact with the rest, scattering the balls and pocketing a couple. "Nice shot," she said under her breath. She looked up at Michael who had his eyes on her. They locked gazes for a breath of a second before she turned back to her notepad.

    Hours later when the notepad was filled with nonsense ideas, scratched out points and doodles - some of which were of the same winged sword she drew earlier over and over but in smaller sizes - Kit threw down the pen and paper onto the middle of the pool table, scrambling the game the boys were in the middle of. Calum, who was in the middle of taking a shot, straightened up and threw his hands in the air, groaning in exasperation.

    "I was about to win this one, Constantine!" He threw the stick onto the table but didn't seem to make much else of a fuss. "I'm going to go get a beer."

    Kit got up to stretch her legs, fuming that she had wasted time by coming here. The boys weren't really putting much effort into a topic to do a report on about the Renaissance but to be honest she too wasn't all that interested. Her dad still hasn't made contact and she was getting anxious. It was typical of him to go for longer than he said he would but this time something felt off. She tried to quell the feeling.

    A hush made her look up towards the entrance where everybody seemed to be focused on. In the dim lighting, it took her awhile to make out the tall man who had just walked in, two men escorting. The tall one had a shoulder length sleeked back hair and all three were in dark suits down to the tie and shiny black shoes. The tall one, Midnight himself, was as good looking as everyone said he was with an air of authority and someone who was all too powerful. He had that look in his eyes of someone who had seen everything the universe had to offer and still wasn't impressed.

    As he passed by, their eyes met, dark brown eyes to darker brown eyes, and Kit's eyebrows knitted together as her gaze trailed him up until he disappeared around the corner towards his office/chamber somewhere at the back. The moment he was out of sight, the buzz of the place started up again and even the air seemed lighter. The effect he has, mused Kit to herself as she leaned against the wall facing the room.

    Calum came back then with three bottle of beers in one hand and another two in the other. He passed them around to his mates and held up one to Kit, a light smirk on his face as if challenging her to take it.

    "She doesn't drink," said Michael as he took a swig on his, eyeing the bottle still in Calum's outstretched hand. "Straight edge."

    Calum snorted. "Well, more for me."

    "Or me," piped in Ashton.

    Calum frowned at him and quickly turned to Luke who was about to say something. "Not you. You're lightweight."

    They started to bicker. Kit's phone vibrated in her pocket and with her dad in mind, she fished out the phone only to find the number was an unknown one. Her stomach dropped but she answered it anyway. "Hello?"

    "Is this Constantine's daughter?" An inaudible whispering and then, "Uh, Kit?"

    "Who's this?"

    "I'm Sam. It's about your father."

    Her breathing hitched.