Winchesters Are Morons

by Starlit Night 67

Michael thought that at least Team Free Will was a responsible bunch; but nope. They keep screwing up more times than should be possible, only this time they almost destroy the universe with them. Thanks a lot, Winchesters. Second in the Stupid series.

"What's going on?"

Will looks exhausted. "The cases are increasing daily. More and more demigods are getting this weird sickness when they leave camp borders. It turns their veins black and once all of them turn dark, they die. Till then, they slowly lose their minds and are completely rabid."

Percy frowns. "Can I see them?"

"I'm not sure if it's exactly communicable, but since nothing has happened to me yet, I guess the normal safety precautions can get us by." Will sighs. "I wish I could do something. I've tried everything I know from ambrosia to every damn hymn Apollo ever sang. Nothing seems to be working!"

"I have a feeling of what it might be." Percy murmurs. And If I'm right…

Will looks at him weirdly as they walk to the sick rooms. "Since when do you know about unknown medical conditions?"

Percy ignores him and pushes the door open.

The camper's veins are black that seem to be slowly encroaching to his central nervous system. Percy can feel the dark power that wanted to consume everything in the poor demigod. Only one person would be responsible for this. The Winchesters are so dead when he gets his hands on them.

Percy lets out a low hiss. "I know what this is."

"You do?" Will looks incredulous. "I'm the doctor and even I don't know!"

"Because it's not anything that Greeks or Romans cooked up." Percy's tone is dark and foreboding. Dragging Will to outside the Poseidon cabin, he quietly summons a bit of holy oil making sure neither Will nor his dad see it while pretending to rummage through his stuff.

Much to Will's confusion, he brings the bottles out and says, "Dip cotton balls in this and light it near the veins – close enough so that they can feel the heat. It should work."

Will stares at the bottles of oil in his hands and stares.

"How do you know this?" Will asks quietly after mustering the courage to do so. Percy smiles, tight lipped. Will immediately gets the hint to shut up and they walk to the infirmary in relative silence. He's desperate after days of nothing working.

Will can feel the tension leaving his muscles as he enters his element, quickly grabbing the required items and moving to their first patient.

Connor Stoll.

He's half delirious, muttering 'Amara' repeatedly under his breath among a slew of other words that fly straight over Will's head. Percy moves and secures the prankster's arms in the straps present on the bed tightly enough that Connor wouldn't be able to break free, but loosely enough so as to not cut off his circulation.

Will quickly dips the cotton ball in a generous amount of oil as Percy stands on alert near the bed in case Connor thrashed too violently.

Soundlessly, the ball's lit on fire with a lighter that Percy somehow had on hand (maybe he had a smoking problem? Will would have to get him to quit it if that was the case).

Immediately, the results were visible. The longer the flames burned, the less prominent the dark veins became and the more Connor struggled in his restraints, begging to Will to stop and screaming himself hoarse.

Will kept the flames going with a heavy heart while Percy did his best to make sure Connor wouldn't end up accidently knocking Will's hand and dropping the ball.

Around fifteen minutes later, the veins are completely gone and Connor slows his protests and falls into a peaceful sleep. Will wipes his brow nervously. One down, thirty more to go.

---

The next day all the campers with the weird disease are cured (after a lot of screaming and wailing) and when Will goes to the Poseidon cabin to thank Percy . . .

He isn't there.

Will immediately freaks. The last time this happened, Annabeth had nearly torn the camp to shreds all the while barking orders and neglecting her health to find her boyfriend. He did not want a repeat of that.

"Who are you looking for, Will?" Nico seems cheerful (at least, as cheerful as the child of Hades can be).

Will looks at him like a crazed animal. "Have you seen Percy anywhere?"

Nico shuffles his feet, uncomfortable. "No, why?"

"I haven't seen him all day." Will runs a hand through his hair, completely stressed out.

Nico's eyes widen. "Not this again." Will very much agrees with that sentiment. "Maybe's he's in the Athena Cabin?"

After Tartarus, the two demigods were exempt from the 'only siblings in the same cabin' rule. When they slept separately, bad things happened.

And yes, it rained heavily too. But that was tame in comparison to what else happened. Percy would cause floods, cyclones and even thunderstorms depending on how intense the dream was, and only Annabeth could calm him down. After a week of earthquakes and other son-of-Poseidon-related natural disasters, Chiron agreed to bend the rules for those two.

Poseidon and Athena also agreed to put up with the child of the other in the same cabin, which was very surprising. Since then, the most that ever happened was a light drizzle. Thank the gods for that.

Well, part of the earthquakes were caused by Nico and his Tartarus related nightmares, but he thankfully didn't have as much as the de-facto leaders of Camp Half Blood.

Just then, Annabeth marches out of her cabin and towards them looking like she was about to cry. Sad Annabeth is a scary Annabeth. Even more so than when she's angry.

"Hey, Annabeth!" Will calls her. "Any idea where Percy is?"

She turns her teary self toward them. "Percy's disappeared. Again."

Will's heart sinks.

---

"You brothers better have a good explanation as to why Amara is currently roaming free." The angel hisses.

"Michael –" Sam starts. The Viceroy of Heaven just raises his pointer finger and Sam shuts his cakehole.

Dean makes a mental note to ask him how he does that.

"When two of the oldest beings in this universe tell you not to do something, you should, I don't know, maybe not do that thing!"

Dean frowns in annoyance. His brother might be a pain in the ass, but this was toeing the line. "We didn't summon you to lecture us about what we did wrong."

Dean also mutters about how Michael looks and acts more like a guy in his early twenties than the fourth oldest being in existence.

Saint Michael glares at him. "I thank father that I fell when I did, or I'd have to put up with people who can't understand the consequences of their actions."

Dean feels offended. He's a stunning personality, thank you very much, Michael.

"I get it, I messed up," Sam admits, "but wouldn't you have done the same for your brother?" As an afterthought, Sam edits his question a bit. "I mean, brothers other than Lucifer."

Michael's green eyes reminded Dean of a fearsome tsunami before all the anger drains out of him. "I would. Even for Lucifer." He sighs in defeat. "That's the only reason I haven't fried you to a crisp for summoning me like this. If you would be so kind…"

Dean immediately douses the holy fire with the extinguisher.

Michael steps out gracefully. "So," he says. "What's the game plan?"

"Find God." A flutter of wings announces Castiel's presence. Michael smiles widely and smothers the baby angel in a hug.

"How have you been, Cassie?" Michael says gleefully as the face on Castiel's face can only be described as the face that little brothers make in their teenage I-don't-need-anyone phase. The angel harrumphs and tries to break free of his older brother's hold but is only successful after several minutes.

Something tells Dean that Michael let him break free.

Dean is so never letting Cas live that down. And guessing by the mirth shining in Sam's eyes, he isn't going to either.

"You never call or visit, little brother." Michael honest-to-god pouts. Dean never thought he'd ever seen that look on the angel who could squish them all like ants without even trying.

"I have been busy, Michael." Cas replies, sounding peeved and the slightest bit pleased with his brother's affections.

"That's no excuse." Michael informs him. "You won't like the consequences if this happens again."

Cas rolls his eyes. Wow, now Dean could happily die in the knowledge that he had well and truly corrupted Castiel. "What? I'm not a baby angel anymore."

"Well, I guess you wouldn't mind if I told them about that one time you-"

"Never mind!" Cas squeaks. Dean now really wants to know what kind of blackmail Michael had on the trench coat wearing tax accountant angel. It ought to be a wild baby story that would be sure to reduce Dean to tears of laughter. He's so going to ask Michael later for a laugh.

"On a serious note, do you guys have any idea how to find God?" Michael asks.

Team Free Will exchange looks. Sam decides to speak up. "We only have Dean's amulet – It glows when He's nearby."

"Really." Michael sounds annoyed. "Do you think a measly amulet will help you find God?"

Dean is about to protest when Michael asks. "You know Chuck Shurley?"

"What does the Prophet have to do with this?" Castiel frowns.

"Oh man, you guys don't know, do you?" Dean never knew he'd see the Commander of Heaven's armies do something so human as a face-palm.

"Know what?" Cas demands.

"Never mind. Next time, just call like normal people." Michael ignores Cas, stretching his arms.

"If you haven't noticed, we aren't exactly normal, but sure." Dean shrugs and whips out his phone. "Number?"

Michael rattles a string of digits that he obediently takes down and saves the caller ID as Saint Mikey, just for kicks. When Dean notices that both numbers are landlines, he asks who to call. The first archangel smiles.

"Percy. Percy Jackson."

---

Lucifer paces around in his cell, bored out of his mind.

Yeah, sure, he was angry the first two centuries after he was put back (time passes quite differently in Hell), but then he realized – no matter how much he schemed and planned, if Michael and God were always against him, he was always going be stuck in this piece of crap.

Then he just waited. Since the Winchesters were such goofs, he knew they'd need him at some point or the other. Lucifer stares at his pale arm, the one that bore the Mark so many years ago.

I really hope that the Winchesters weren't stupid enough to release her. Lucifer thinks as the walls of the cage rattle dangerously. I'd rather stick around in God's personal trash bin for his disposal of me than fight Amara.

Lucifer watches in morbid fascination as the Cage develops a crack that slowly grows before someone blasts it open. The last person he expected is on the other side.

With a smile so dazzling that the Morningstar felt temporarily blinded, Michael extends an arm towards Lucifer. "Need a hand?"

---

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Lucifer demands once Michael lifts them out of Hell and flies into an apartment in New York, with a meatsuit that wouldn't burn out from the inside and looked like Nick. Lucifer was rather fond of the guy, at least he prayed for the Devil other than that Mark Twain.

"I'm hungry." His older brother says in reply. "Do you want something to eat?"

Lucifer raises an eyebrow at his 'perfect soldier' of an older brother displaying such childishness. "Just answer the question."

"I guess not." Buttering a slice of bread like he never had a care in the world, Michael gives the most half-assed response Lucifer has ever heard once he glared hard enough. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Lucifer's brow climbs high enough to present the opportunity of disappearing into his hairline. Michael sighs in defeat. "The morons released Amara."

The Darkness is no joke. Lucifer remembers nearly dying the day they finally managed to put her behind the seal. The Mark itself turned him insane with the sheer amount of hatred locked behind it, and some morons freed her?

"Who?" Snarling, Lucifer grabs the lapels of Michael's jacket. "I will finely chop them into pieces, make kabobs and fry them slowly over a fire."

"No eating anyone," Michael says, his laughter sounding strained, "But it was our favourite brothers of all time."

He should have killed Sam and Dean when he had the chance. "The Winchesters." Lucifer sighs, exasperated. "Of course. Who else would screw up in such epic proportions?"

Living on Earth probably removed the stick from his older brother's ass because he smiles, looking amused beyond belief. "Oh, how I missed you, Sammael!"

"I missed you too, Mikhael," Lucifer's reply is sombre.

"Well, that's a start," Michael claps his hands and rubs them together like an excited child, "Maybe you've missed dear old Dad, too?"

His eyes flare with an intensity his wings shone when he was still Heaven's most beloved angel. "I might have forgiven you (only a little bit, mind you), because you had to obey," he spits, "but God isn't getting any 'best dad ever' mugs from me on Father's Day."

Michael's hopeful face deflates.

Lucifer sighs again. Sometimes, it seemed that he was the elder one, not Michael. "I might be willing to compromise just this once over the Amara thing."

His older brother beams which is when Lucifer realizes that Michael's kicked baby seal look was a ploy to get him to agree. As Lucifer feels betrayed, Michael says cheerily, "Great! Dad's waiting for us!"

Lucifer wishes that he had stayed in the Cage instead.

---

Dean immediately grabs the popcorn when he hears that both Lucifer and God are going to be within the same room and are not allowed to try to kill each other on Michael's request.

Michael's a twenty-one year old badass.

(He's not protesting Lucifer's presence because when it comes to Amara, the more people on their team, the better – It took all four archangels to beat her the first time; they'd need all the help they could get without Gabriel and Raphael. He feels guilty enough about being the reason of her release already.

Besides, Michael assured them all that Lucifer would behave. Dean has no doubts that Michael could kick his little brother's butt if it came to it.)

When the shouting match has stuff being thrown around, Dean asks Michael to do his job and protect them with a force field of sorts and munches on his popcorn happily, his head moving from the first speaker to the next.

"You sent me to hell!" Lucifer snarls at God (Who knew Chuck Shurley the prophet who turned their lives into literary entertainment would be the Almighty?). "And the rest of heaven gets away with nothing?"

"Incoming!" Dean says gleefully. Sam elbows him and gives Dean his patented bitch face, and Cas is berating him about how it's bad to rile up two of the most powerful beings in existence but he honestly couldn't care less. It's more entertaining than Desperate Housewives, that's for sure.

Chuck ducks as the vase shatters above his head. "I had promised free will to all my children." God explains. "I couldn't punish them and go back on my word."

"But it's all right to punish me!"

Michael sighs. "Neither of them is going to sacrifice their pride and apologize."

"But I thought God isn't prideful?" Sam sounds so adorably confused that Dean's protective big brother instincts rear their heads.

"Nah, God isn't as perfect as anyone would think." Michael grins. "He and the Darkness were both parts of the actual perfectly balanced one, but nothing ever goes the right way so God is mostly good – he only a has a teeny tiny bit of imperfections, much lower than any of us. Similarly, Amara is mostly bad – but she does have some good in her, however small. God won't ever admit to that, so shh." Michael's sense of humour is bloody fantastic.

"I heard that." God scowls, ducking to avoid another vase thrown at his head.

Dean grins. "Not so Mr. Perfect after all."

"Think about it;" Michael lays it simply, "if God was omnipotent and all powerful, He should be able to create a stone even He cannot lift."

"Which is impossible." Sam catches on. "If God could create such a stone, He wouldn't be all powerful, because He would not be able to lift it!"

Cas looks betrayed at the notion that his creator is less than perfect. Lucifer laughs and God, well, He pouts.

Michael smirks before looking at his father and younger brother pointedly. "Now, let's act like the adults we are and make up for our mistakes."

Dean never imagined even in his wildest dreams (and he has some seriously wild dreams) that God would be scolded by someone barely out of their teenage years and He would look suitably chastised.

"Sorry." Lucifer and God mutter.

"So," Michael says cheerily, "Let's hug and get this feud over with."

Dean's extremely strong willpower and the teensiest bit of self-preservation is the only thing keeping him from tearing up laughing as the two sworn enemies "hug it out" awkwardly.

Scratch that, since even Michael and Cas are chuckling, Dean chortles till he's red in the face. Even Sammy's reprimands do nothing as his laughter only increases when Lucifer and Chuck glare at him.

"I should have killed you when I had the chance." Lucifer grumbles.

Chuck grumbles. "I second that."

"Ah, ah, ah." Michael mocks. "Do that and I'll expose you as a baby, Lucifer; and tell all the angels how you left them deliberately and hid under their noses, Dad. I'm sure all the crying angels, God; and all the kids teasing you, Lucy will more than make up for killing anyone."

Both God and Lucifer share looks of absolute horror.

Did Dean ever mention how Michael was his favourite angel (aside from Castiel)?

---

"Ah, Miss Chase." The woman says. "Michael's chosen."

"Who are you?" Annabeth demands.

"Soon, my dear." She says, smiling. "Bring my nephew along, why don't you?"

The dream was always the same. She never had any idea who the lady was talking about (or who she was, for that matter), and she had no clue which Michael she was talking about. At least it was better than dreaming about Tartarus and slowly losing her sanity.

Annabeth glances at her bed stand and looks at her clock. It's three in the damn morning.

Well, with the cold sweat that she woke up with, she decides that she isn't going to be able to sleep soon, so she heads out to the docks to clear her head.

The docks remind her of Percy. The sea breeze makes her feel Percy is with her, even if for a short while. This time, she isn't even sure if she'll even find Percy, because her first order of business was to march up to Olympus and ask which god kidnapped him this time. Every one of them (including that cow Hera) swore up and down on the Styx that they hadn't taken Percy away this time.

He's probably in serious trouble this time.

"Annabeth Chase." A voice booms. "Come out or your father gets it."

She jumps, startled.

The adrenaline kicks in. This person has my dad. Annabeth and her dad may not have had the greatest of relationships in her formative years, but she eventually grew to love and care for him, and her step-family. No way she was going to let him just die in the hands of . . .

Are those mortals? They're all male and look like humans, but no human would be able to project their voice like that in her head.

"Who are you?" Annabeth seems to be asking this question a lot lately.

Their eyes turn black. The portly bearded man's turn red, "Where are Michael and Team Free Will?" He sounds British.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Annabeth says in frustration. First the lady and now these creeps. Why does everyone assume she knows a Michael? The only Michael she knows is Michael Yew, and that boy has been dead since the second Titan War.

She has a feeling they aren't asking about the archer.

One of the black eyed cronies pushes the knife closer to her dad's throat. The red eyed guy's eyes return to normal and he introduces himself. "Ah, where are my manners? I'm Crowley."

From Good Omens? She thinks.

Crowley looks annoyed. "No, I'm not half as much a goody-two-shoes." He adjusts his shirt and walks up to her through the border (the rest of his cronies remain out, including the one who has a knife to her dad's throat). "Your boyfriend's been a constant thorn in my side, and I need to find him."

Is he talking about Percy? "I don't have a boyfriend named Michael."

"Oh, stop it." Crowley's lips purse briefly. "I don't think you need to protect the guy. He's an Archangel, bloody hell, and I really can't kill him so I need your help to find him. I need to negotiate."

Percy? Archangel? Annabeth has the urge to laugh. "My boyfriend isn't an archangel, he's the son of Poseidon."

"Percy Jackson is Archangel Michael." Crowley says in all seriousness. "And again, I need your help to talk to him."

---

Crowley's one slick bastard, Annabeth would give him that.

The portly Irish man never had her father. He just needed her to come out of Camp borders without making a scene. Sure, He could enter and take her away forcefully, but he knew that Annabeth would scream loud enough for all the residents of Camp Half-Blood to be out and armed in less than a minute.

Besides, if he wants Percy, it was in her best interest to go anyway. Crowley probably confused him with the Archangel, probably because Michael was a protector and a leader … all of which Percy could do. Crowley thinks he's the Archangel, he says he's not too sure and Annabeth is determined to prove him wrong.

And when she does, she'll stab them because she knows that they don't want anyone knowing about their quest for Michael and they'd kill her once she outlived her usefulness. Of course, once she ditched them, going back would be a problem because they're currently in the middle of Nowhere, Lebanon, Kansas in front of a (pretty impressive, Annabeth admits) bunker, but she'll manage.

She went from San Francisco to Long Island Sound when she was seven! Granted, she was with two other people who were six years older than her (Thalia) and seven years older than her (Luke) and only two of them survived (until the other one was revived from a pine tree) but she could do the same from Lebanon, couldn't she?

Crowley presses a switch and hollers, "Oi, Squirrel, moose! I got a special someone with me!"

A tall, thick man with cropped dirty blond hair and grass green eyes and bowed legs (who Annabeth thinks looks pretty good for a guy in his late thirties) opens the door, sighing. "What d'you want, Crowley?"

Crowley's Cheshire grin makes Annabeth uneasy. "Oh, nothing, just want to help you out with Amara, Squirrel."

The man looks at her and Crowley with no little amount of suspicion. "And why should we let you?"

Crowley's grin threatens to split his face. "Rumour has it that Amara's been coming in her dreams." How the Hades does he know about the weird woman in her dreams? She only ever told Nico! "Tell General Feathers I've got a special someone for him."

Crowley turns to her and whispers as they walk into the bunker, "The Ghost King may have quite a bit of favour in Hell. Since his hands are tied, you're here."

Annabeth is so going to kill Nico when she gets back.

'Squirrel' leads them into a room where five men are in pretty animated discussion and clears his throat. "Uh, Mikey?"

'Mikey' sighs without breaking eye contact with the other men. "Not now, Dean."

His voice sounds so familiar, Annabeth could swear she heard it every day. Unless …

"We have a situation that you might want to see." Dean says dryly.

'Mikey' turns around in frustration. "What is it n-" His eyes land on her and widen.

She feels her heart racing. "Percy?"

"Wise Girl." He breathes out, before grabbing the collar of Crowley's (expensive) shirt within the blink of an eye. "Why did you bring here?"

Since when did Percy get that fast?

Crowley looks unfazed as ever. "Amara was tracking her through her dreams. Either have her enter your precious summer camp and kill everyone there, border or no border; or have her here." He shrugs. "Which one is it Feathers?"

"Wait a second." A man with short blonde hair looking like he hadn't shaved in days pipes up. "You know this mud monkey, brother?"

Annabeth knows she should be offended, but satisfying her curiosity is more important. "Brother?" She asks incredulously.

Percy gives her a weak smile. "Uh, I haven't been completely honest with you …"

---

"So you're Saint Michael the Archangel."

"Yep."

"And you hid this fact from me for five years."

Percy winces. "Well, yes, everyone other than Nico didn't know; but he knew the minute the Dean and Castiel entered Tartarus because those three had a chat and he told them how to escape."

"So that's the name of the scrawny kid who told us about the latch." Dean comments before deciding to add fuel to the raging inferno. "Which happened three years ago."

Percy glares. "Not helping, Dean."

Dean shrugs as if to say, 'What to do?'

Annabeth's rage grows to epic proportions. "And you didn't tell me, why?"

"Because the gods would have found out in the process and tried to kill both of us, which would have been a huge hassle." Percy's big green baby seal eyes begging her to understand eventually break her resolve.

Annabeth sighs. "Okay, I forgive you this once." Percy's smile lights up the room.

The Devil sniggers with Dean who mutters gleefully, "Mikey's so whipped!"

Percy glares at both of them. "Shut up."

"Ahem." God clears his throat. Annabeth still can't wrap her head around the fact that the capital-G God is this scruffy man who wrote books based on the lives of the Winchesters for a living. "So, the Darkness?"

"Right." Sam Winchester agrees. "So, the plan is we lock her away with a Mark again."

"Basically." Percy says. "We can't kill her because we have to maintain the balance of Light and Dark in the world. But the question remains: Who'll take the Mark?"

Dean immediately raises his hand. God shakes his head. "Giving the Mark the last time to Lucifer shows how angels can't handle the mark. Annabeth is too much like Lucifer for it to work for her, and Dean you already have an imprint by the Mark."

Annabeth takes great offense to being compared to the Devil. Percy senses this and whispers to her, "Lucifer used to be the brightest angel of creation, God's favourite. He got the Mark, but it slowly corrupted his thoughts. God doesn't want that happening to you because well, you can be pretty terrifying." The last part is clearly a joke, but Annabeth still punches his arm playfully, satisfied with his explanation.

"I'll take it." Sam says quietly. Dean immediately protests but Sam whispers something in his ear which makes his older brother nod stiffly and agree for now.

"Just how do we lure Amara here?" Castiel asks, tilting his head. Annabeth has the sudden urge to coo at him. (Percy explained that he was the cutest angel ever, being the baby of the family and Annabeth can say that the title is well deserved.

He also said that Dean and Castiel are in denial of their romantic feelings for each other, so whenever Annabeth sees Dean sneak glances at Castiel… Well, the amount of self-control it took her to not "aww" is in astronomical proportions.)

"Easy." Crowley speaks up. "We could get my mother and her coven of witches to help out. And I could get a few demons with me."

Percy shakes his head. "The angels have put Heaven in lockdown. They sounded terrified."

"They do realize that if they don't help that they'll die anyway?" Lucifer demands.

"They are hoping that the Winchesters will solve their messes like they always do." Castiel says dryly. Dean looks like he's going to protest that statement but Sam makes a face at him and Dean shuts up.

"We could always ask the Olympians," Annabeth suggests.

"And have them try to smite us?" Percy snorts. "Sure, why not?"

---

"This is so not going to go well, I can tell." Percy moans.

Annabeth swats him behind the head. "We have to try, remember? The Darkness is on the loose!"

"Yeah, yeah." Percy murmurs, rubbing the back of his head. "Doesn't mean I have to be looking forward to the conversation."

Annabeth rolls her eyes at him and ignores the warning given by the guard at the bottom of the Empire State Building and enters right in the throne room of the gods.

The doors open slowly with a squeaking sound. Annabeth didn't mean for their entrance to be quite as dramatic, but she supposes it works. They did get the attention of all the gods so she counts it as a win.

"Who dares enter –" Zeus booms before seeing Percy and Annabeth. His angry expression turns more annoyed and he sighs. "Of course it would be you two impertinent brats."

Annabeth has a feeling that Zeus would have smote them had half the Olympian council and the entirety of Camp Half Blood not been so indebted or attached to the two of them. "Lord Zeus, we request an audience." She says, mustering as much politeness as humanly possible after interrupting a meeting between gods.

Zeus drags a weary hand across his face. "Not that you gave a choice in the first place, but you may continue. What do you two want this time?"

Excuse me? We've saved your sorry podexes more times than I can count, and you're talking to us like it's you who did the work? Annabeth fumes. Sensing her anger, Percy takes over the negotiations.

"We need your help." He admits. "Against the Darkness."

There's pin-drop silence that follows his statement before Poseidon decides to speak up. "I'm sorry, son, did you just say the Darkness?"

Percy nods. The council immediately erupts into panicked and worried shouts. Poseidon and Hades make eye contact and slam their trident and staff respectively to gain everyone's attention.

It works.

"How did this happen?" Zeus looks ready to smite someone. Annabeth and Percy exchange sheepish looks.

"Have you heard of the Winchesters?"

---

Two nearly smote demigods and two angry gods later, Percy and Annabeth had given the bare bones of the issue at hand and were now waiting for a response.

"The Winchesters always screw up." Artemis mutters angrily. "First, they try to let Prometheus roam free, and now they release the Darkness. Stupid, good-for-nothing males."

"Hold up." Percy makes a time-out gesture. "They helped out Prometheus?"

"After the Second Titan War Prometheus had found a way to escape." Zeus explains, looking annoyed himself. "He tricked them into believing that he had a seven year old son named Oliver and begged for their help. Dumb as they were, they couldn't see the truth and I may have taunted Prometheus a bit – and that probably didn't win me any points," Zeus admits, "But in the end, he's in Tartarus and that's what matters."

Percy frowns. "So, are you all helping?" He says, trying to keep the hopefulness out of his voice but fails miserably

The Big Three share a look before Zeus announces his verdict. Surprise, surprise, he says, "No."

Percy sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, "I hoped it wouldn't come to this, but I don't have a choice. Annabeth," he turns to his girlfriend, "Could you leave the Throne Room for a minute?"

Annabeth looks peeved but doesn't protest, shutting the doors firmly behind her. They had prepared for the contingency of Michael needing to give the gods a little "push". By the accounts of everyone in their ragtag team, she knew that just being in the presence of Percy in his true form would instantly kill her.

Once he knows that Annabeth would be safe, he rounds back to the Olympians, feeling his bronze wings unfurl into reality. "You might want to reconsider your decision."

The gods see him as a bright, bright light and barely catch a glimpse of his wings and the Olympian Council once again descends into chaos blindly, quite literally.

"Since when did the punk get this powerful?"

"He should eat more cereal!"

"Once again, Barnacle Beard's son has been nothing but trouble!"

"That's so cool!"

"Michael," Hades murmurs in awe.

"Ten points to Slytherin!" Michael exclaims. No one laughs except Athena (who tries to disguise it as a cough) and Apollo (who doesn't bother trying).

"Are you threatening us?" Still shielding his eyes, Zeus attempts to aim his bolt at Michael. "What are you doing here?" he demands. "We had made a pact that neither would enter the territory of the other!"

"He's not trespassing." Poseidon injects. "He's Percy."

"How is he Archangel Michael then?" Zeus shouts at his older brother.

"I didn't believe Nico at first, but nothing else could explain this." Hades sighs. "You fell and were born as Percy Jackson and only recently acquired your grace and with it, your memories."

The entire council becomes silent, waiting for his answer. "Yes." Percy admits.

"The grace was in the necklace, wasn't it?" Poseidon says, voice dripping in curiosity. Percy nods.

"If you don't mind, Percy," Hestia finally says something, "Could you please tuck away your true form?"

"Oh, right." Percy sheepishly puts his wings back in their pocket dimension. "So, are you helping now?"

---

"We've got the owl feather and the yarrow root," The red-headed witch says, her long hair tied back in a ponytail.

"Check and check," The second witch replies.

"And jaw of pig?"

"Check," A much deeper voice that is definitely male answers the redhead.

She turns, hands on her hips, looking clearly annoyed. "What are you doing here, Giant?" She demands. "Give it!"

The man, being much taller than both the witches holds the jaw of pig much above their heads. "Not till we talk, Rowena."

"Sam Winchester, you've walked right into a powerful coven-" Rowena says, angry.

"Actually," The second witch interjects helpfully. "It takes three for a coven."

"A powerful witches den, then," Rowena glares at her partner for betraying her before going back to threatening the intruder, "without a weapon. I'll turn you into a moose. An actual moose."

Sam rolls his eyes and gives one of his signature bitchfaces. "You can't."

The second nudges Rowena and whispers to her. "Read his aura. He's under some potent protection. Never seen that before." She shrugs. "Hear the man out."

Rowena glares at her second once more for a moment before turning back to Sam. "Well?"

"We need you." He says simply. "Here's what's going on…"

---

It takes Sam a few minutes, but by the time he's done, he's laid out the same facts Crowley's probably laying out for the demons and Percy and Annabeth are laying out for the Greek Gods. They would have sent someone to Heaven if only angels weren't such wusses.

"So, we're basically playing the God card," he finishes.

Rowena looks equal parts shocked and incredulous. "God's back." She stands on her tiptoes and tries to look at Sam in the eye. "You've tricked me before, Samuel. Why should I believe a word you say?"

"It would explain that aura of protection," Clea says. "No regular magic, there."

"Clea, dear," Rowena sighs. "Is this how it's going to be with us in Crete?" She doesn't wait for an answer. "Even if God's back, why would I care? Hello, pagan here. I serve magic, not God." She reaches up to Sam's hand, which has dropped slightly, and snatches back the jawbone. "Sorry. Not interested."

"We have a Son of Poseidon and a Daughter of Athena on our side." Sam adds. "They're probably convincing the Olympians right now."

Clea half raises her hand. "Count me in. And your pagan excuse won't work now considering we have the most famous Greek demigods in the middle of everything."

"No!" Rowena objects.

Clea takes Rowena's hand for a brief moment. "Ro, you brought me a plan to escape. Here's an opportunity to fight and win."

"She's right," Sam points out.

"Nobody's talking to you, big and tall," Rowena dismisses him.

"I can enlist others. Sister witches."

"You're mad. We don't stand a chance against Amara!"

"Rowena, honey?" Clea draws a card from a tarot deck and flashes Rowena the sun with a small smile. "There is a chance."

---

"All right-y." Percy uncaps his sword, tapping his foot impatiently. "We've assembled all the troops we've got. We're ready to hit her with it so Chuck can finish her off."

Sam nods, light from the broken windows of the old power plant striking his face. "A plan from the original playbook. This time with witches, demons, and Olympians subbing for archangels."

Several knocks and light bickering reaches in the room and the door is unceremoniously opened to reveal Zeus and the rest of the Olympians in tow. Dean immediately bares his teeth at the King of the Gods and hisses. "What is he doing here?"

Annabeth rolls her eyes. "I did mention we'd bring the Olympians to help out."

"Hello to you too, Dean Winchester." Zeus smiles at him in a way that is not meant to reassuring at all. "It seems my luck ran out and this isn't one of the times you are dead. Such a shame."

"Why you little –" Percy snaps his fingers and Dean suddenly can't open his mouth. Zeus looks triumphant as he listens to the older Winchester make incoherent grunts before Hestia turns on him and says, "Little brother, behave."

The Olympians snigger. Percy sighs. "Olympians, meet Sam, Dean, Crowley – King of Hell – and Rowena – witch. Also, Crowley's mother."

Chuck waves at the Olympians and Rowena. "Hello, my children."

Sam, Dean and the two archangels in the room roll their eyes. Rowena's eyes widen before the narrow in disbelief and Zeus gapes. "Him?" The King of the Gods demands, pointing at the scraggly looking brunette with blue eyes. "Really?"

"Nice to meet you, Zeus." God smiles.

"Okay, okay, enough meet and greet." Dean waves his arms for attention. "Ground rules. No flirting. No fighting, and no deals. No talking about who gets what and who is owed if we survive this."

"Nobody even likes each other," Annabeth points out. "So it doesn't matter."

"Right," Dean agrees. "Only the fight ahead."

"Here's the plan," Chuck says. "Amara's looking for me. But I'm warded against her, for now. The second I drop the warding, she'll show. She'll be expecting a fight, and we'll give it to her. Shock and awe. Shock, and awe." He turns to the group. "You have your troops in position."

Rowena raises her hand. "Ah, fabulous plan, God, but doesn't this strategy strike anyone as a wee bit un-strategic? Shouldn't we at least try to catch her off guard?"

"Also," Crowley interrupts, "is that sequence set in stone? Angel, demon, witch power, Olympians? Seems to me that the first response should come from the most disposable force." He casts a sideways look at his mother and the Winchesters.

"Right! Good argument," Lucifer sneers. "Demons first, it is."

The King of Hell looks down his nose as if he's talking to a child he particularly dislikes. "The weakest should go first. Naturally, that means the witches."

"Enough." Hestia says sternly.

No one dares to go against the goddess of the home and hearth. Not even the King of Hell and an archangel, because she's just that awesome.

Chuck sighs, glad that at least one of the pagans has sense. "After the demons, it's Castiel, Lucifer and Michael's turn. Physical attack."

"Remind me just why I'm taking orders from a man?" Artemis crosses her arms like an impertinent child.

"Because, you stupid pagan, this is God and he could have you disappear into nothing." Dean snaps at her. "What's your deal with men, anyway?"

"Men are disgusting pigs." Artemis sneers at him. "Just like you, Winchester. Do you even know the number of women you've ruined?"

Dean immediately looks guilty.

"Then," Chuck cuts in loudly before a furious Sam would rise to his brother's defence, "once she's been weakened, I will take the Mark back from Amara and use it to seal her away. You ready?" This last was directed at Sam Winchester, who nods.

"Yeah."

"I still don't like the idea of you bearing the Mark." Dean frowns. "It should be me; I'm damaged goods."

"Finally realized your worth, Winchester?" Zeus rubs salt in the wound. Percy gives him a warning glare.

"Exactly." God says. "You've already been marked, I can't give it you. And, well, Sam's the best candidate for the job."

"Yeah?" Dean challenges, "What about when the Mark turns him crazy?"

Sam turns as white as a sheet. "You'll just have to lock me somewhere and throw away the key. Cas, Michael and Annabeth could help." Percy nods solemnly.

"Sam, no."

"Well, you said you can't beat Amara." Sam shrugs. "So, it has to be me. Well, this is me doing what I have to do."

Dean nods reluctantly. "Okay, Sam. Okay. God's plan." He raises his voice, as if half the room hasn't been listening to them intently and pretending they aren't. "Everyone ready? Let's get this show on the road."

Rowena sighs. "All right, you lot. Give me room." They all back up, clearing the space around her. The witch begins to mutter under her breath, her arms outstretched. Her head drops forward, and when it lifts, her eyes have rolled back, only the whites visible. When she speaks, her voice echoes and they know it would be audible through the whole bunker several floors below them. "Hello, Amara!" There's a pause, presumably as Amara responds. "Easy enough to find you. Take it you're still looking for God?" the witch asks cheerily. "Well, I'm with him right now." She blinks, her eyes returning to normal, before quickly nodding at the group and hurrying out the side door.

"No turning back now," Castiel murmurs.

Sam claps Dean on the shoulder. "Here goes."

---

The little boy couldn't have been more than four years old, but he has the brightest green eyes one can think of. He's smiling behind a chocolate chip cookie with one shoulder bearing his heavily pregnant mother's hand and his smiling father by his side who looks at his wife with overwhelming love.

Dean looks nothing like the hunter he is today in the picture; just happy in the familial bliss. She knows John Winchester is nothing more than an average demon anymore, but last she heard, Mary is still in heaven.

A second picture has four year old Dean cradling a few days old Sam, looking at him with wonder from his seat on Mary Winchester's lap, who has an arm around her waist that belongs to her ecstatic husband.

Amara closes her eyes. She and God were like Dean and Sam Winchester once upon a time. A pang shoots through her dark heart that aches for love.

Just then, she hears the witch call for her. "Hello, witch." She greets, putting the photograph down. "How did you find me?"

"Easy enough to find you." The witch replies smugly. "Take it you're still looking for God? Well, I'm with him right now."

She feels for wards around her brother. Finding none, she's there in a rustle of air.

Standing outside the abandoned power plant which sits over the Bunker, a few old car sit rusting around them next to a row of old generators, Rowena's waiting, chin up. "He's here." Amara says, leaving no room for a question.

"Yes. Right inside." The witch steps forward. "Our deal holds? Safe passage back in time? I'm going out on a limb for you, betraying God, of all people. Not to mention the Winchesters."

Amara shakes her head. "You're not betraying God. You're betraying me."

Rowena's smile falters.

"I knew this was a trap the moment you called. I didn't care. All I've ever wanted is a one-on-one with my brother. And you've just given it to me." Amara taps her chin with a perfectly shaped nail in mock contemplation. "The question is how am I going to repay you?"

Rowena thrusts her hands forward, power surging from them. "Attenuare!" Light spirals around Amara and fades.

"That tickles." The Darkness scoffs at her. "Do you really think the power of one witch can hurt me?"

Rowena's smile slides back onto her face. "I'm not just one witch." She raises her arms as miles away, Clea and two other witches cast the same spell, a bowl between them containing an effigy of the Darkness. Purple flames rise in the bowl and flicker around Rowena's hands. "Attenuare! Attenuare!" Rowena's voice rises to a shriek. "ATTENUARE!"

"Enough games." The sheer power in Amara's voice overwhelms the witches as she raises her own hand making Rowena's spell bounce back. The witch lands painfully on her side. Power surges through the loop and a moment later, the cabin in the woods explodes, tossing the other witches to their own deaths.

Amara raises an eyebrow. "Points for trying."

She lifts her other arm to join the first uplifted hand. Thunder rolls overhead ominously, and electricity crackled around her. Her smooth laughter fills the air, turning into a jubilant scream as a bolt of energy slams down, blasting a hole in the side of the power plant and giving her an easy entrance to her prey.

Demons crowd her as she strolls in, the twisting, smoky tunnels full of their howling spirits as they stream towards her.

"No!" Amara shouts, the building shaking again as power continued to thrum through her, blasting back attackers as they begin to gain ground, buffeting her from side to side and then, slowly, into the air. "No! Get back, no!"

A spirit, dark red and more powerful than the others, tears through the building, knocking Amara back out of the building; Crowley's left his vessel to fight. Amara hits one of the dilapidated cars, the rusted metal twisting and shrieking as she smashes the wreck into itty-bitty pieces.

Amara strides into the room. Sam's arm smacks Dean in the chest as Dean took a step forward. She glares at Chuck and the anger in her eyes almost withers the Olympians around him. "Hello, brother. You cheated," she pants. "Again. But –"

"Now!" Castiel, Lucifer and Michael charge up behind her, angel blades (and Anaklusmos in Michael's case) in hand and stab deep, the blades biting through her chest. Amara drops, the knife pulling free, and the three angels raise their blades again.

"Castiel, Lucifer, Michael," Chuck calls.

Amara moans, low and aching, as the angels back off and Chuck goes to his sister.

"I'm sorry," God says, sounding extremely apologetic. "For this. For everything."

Amara's voice leaves no room for mercy. "An apology at last." She pauses, breathing heavily. "What's sorry to me? I spent millions of years crammed into that cage alone and afraid, wishing, begging for death because of you and what was my crime, brother?"

Chuck gestures around them, dropping to kneel in front of her. "The world needed to be born! And you wouldn't let me! Amara, you give me no choice as you gave me no choice then."

"That's your story. Not mine." Amara spits venomously. "The real reason you banished me, why I couldn't be allowed to exist you couldn't stand it. Yeah, we're equals." Amara struggles to her knees, arms crossed over her bleeding chest, eyes accusing God of a great sin. "We weren't great or powerful because we stood only in relation to each other. You think you made the archangels to bring light? No. You made them to create lesser beings, to make you large." She continues to fight her way up until she was standing. "To make you Lord. It was ego! You wanted to be big!"

Everyone freezes, stunned by the revelation. Except Artemis, who's muttering something about males and their egos under her breath. The rest choose to ignore her.

God stands as well. "That's true. But it isn't the whole truth." He shakes his head, a bit of shame shining in his eyes. There's a value, a glory in creation that's greater and truer than my pride or my ego. Call it grace, call it being! Whatever it is, it didn't come from my hands. It was there waiting to be born. It just is, as you and I just were. Since you've been freed, I know that you've seen it." He glances at Dean. "Felt it."

Amara also looks Dean's way who avoids her eyes before turning back to her sibling. "It didn't have to be like this. I loved you, brother."

No one expected to see the Almighty look properly remorseful in their (immortal, in the case of some) lifetimes.

Amara doesn't seem to care as she laughs bitterly. "Well, you've won again. Fine," she sighs, sounding defeated. "Finish it. Kill me."

"I'm sorry," Chuck raises his hands and Amara looks down in shock as the Mark begins to burn away from her shoulder.

"No! No! NO!" Amara's voice turns to a hysterical shriek, the pure fear in her eyes causing many of the occupants to look away.

Sam grunts, knees locking as the Mark of Cain begins to sizzle to life on his forearm, where Dean had born it for so long.

"Not again!" Amara, despite her wound, lunges forward, grabbing her brother by the throat and lifting him from the floor. "Never again!" Power begins to flow from her, lifting God from her hands and choking him, floating in the air high above. The Mark fades again from Sam's arm.

Lucifer lets out a battle cry and charges from behind with his brothers, Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades rush forward from the front. Amara barely gives the three most powerful deities of the Greek Pantheon a glance, throwing them hard across the room and turning to do the same to the angels; Castiel collides with Sam and takes the giant down with him. Lucifer smashes into a pillar and Michael careens into the Olympians and all three angels immediately pass out.

"Cas!" Dean cries, moving that way but Amara flings him away as well. Ares yells, the sound turning into roar as he charges forwards. Amara barely flinches, but offers him a little more attention than his father, stopping him in his tracks.

"Hm, I don't think so." She spared one of her hands to make a small circular motion in front of him and the War God staggers back, unsteady and wobbling, falling flat on his behind looking like he'd been run over by a bulldozer.

Annabeth tries to sneak up behind her but Amara catches the movement, lifting her up in the air. "I'm sure you recognize me, Miss Chase." She smiles. "Ready to join your boyfriend?" Annabeth crashes on top of Percy after her head slams against a pillar, her vision turning blurry.

The rest of the Olympians try to give a combined assault – Hermes flying full speed with his caduceus, the twin archers shooting arrows, Athena and Hera with their spears, Hestia throwing balls of fire, Dionysus and Demeter growing vines to restrict the Darkness' movement and even Aphrodite and Hephaestus use their daggers and hammers respectively. Amara flicks them all away like they're nothing more than a bunch of annoying mosquitoes, all of them landing in an exhausted heap near the Big Three, Ares, and the demigods.

God's efforts to escape are becoming weaker and Amara returns her full attention to him, waves of energy keeping back the Olympians and the Winchesters. The angels and Annabeth no longer remain an issue because they're passed out or concussed to within an inch of their life. "I'd die a million times and murder you a million more before going back there!" She tilts her head and sneers at him. "Tell me, if you won't change, why should I?"

Tendrils of energy, black and swirling began to rise from the floor around her feet.

"Amara, no!" Dean calls out, finally having swayed to his knees, but Amara spares him no more than a glance as the tendrils began to wrap around her brother, each smoky missile smashing into Chuck and leaving behind a wound of brilliant light, shining brighter until nobody could even look his way.

"Sorry, brother," Amara says, then releases the spell. Chuck drops to the floor with a sickening thud. Dead silence follows the panic of the last few minutes.

Chuck doesn't so much as twitch. Across the room, Zeus groans, eyes fluttering open. The sound seems to break the spell.

"Amara, what have you done?" Dean breathes.

"He's dead." Sam says, sounding like all the hope drained away from him. "God's dead."

"No," Amara shrugs, "But he will be in a few hours."

Everyone begins to warily move, Artemis and Athena heading for Hermes and Hades 9 the latter of whom is still a crumpled heap on the floor, Dean making his way to Sam and Castiel, who hasn't moved since Amara had thrown him. Apollo drapes a blanket over Ares, who is now shaking like a leaf, and tries to make the War God drink some water. Hera waves off Hestia and stands cautiously, heading to help Zeus. Hestia changes course and goes to support Poseidon, who's leaning shakily against a support beam, Demeter moves to help out Dionysus, who seems to be bleeding from a gash on his forehead, and Aphrodite and Hephaestus clutch at each other desperately.

Amara keeps talking. "My brother will dim and fade away into nothing. But not until he sees what comes next. Not until he watches this world, everything he created, everything he loves turn to ash." Amara begins to glow. "Welcome to the End." Everyone averts their eyes and she vanishes.

"Everyone, you might want to look at this," Apollo says suddenly.

"What is it, Apollo?" His twin frowns. "This is not the time to be joking."

Apollo glares. "Do I look like I'm in the mood for jokes?"

"Apollo's right." Hermes says. "Despite him being perfectly alright aside from a few scrapes and bruises, the sun's dying."

---

In the subdued aftermath, Hestia and Apollo had taken charge, being the two main deities of healing, directing everyone back to the library and pushing damaged people into chairs and onto couches. Athena disappears and reappears with several first aid kits. Hermes brings back all the food and snacks in the kitchen within the blink of an eye.

Hestia hands Ares some ambrosia and some nectar to go with it, which he accepts gratefully.

"All right, status reports all around." Sam declares. "Chuck?"

God looks absolutely terrible. He's next to Ares on the couch and is almost as white as Hades. He keeps listing to the side and onto the arm of the couch, although he does look slightly more stable since Apollo forced him to drink some water. "You know when you're driving and a bug hits your windshield?" Chuck says shakily, "Well, I'm… the bug."

"So… what Amara said about you," Dean starts.

"Yeah," God grunts, pushing Himself back upright to take another sip of water. "Dying. Whatever she did to me, I can feel my spark, my light fading. And when it's gone…"

"So, okay, tell us how to fix it!"

"Well, you can't." Chuck closes his eyes, looking nothing like the righteous and powerful God the stories in the Bible depict him as.

"You've got to be joking," a distinctive rough Scottish voice says. Crowley and Rowena descend the stairs, the Bunker door slamming behind them, both looking tired. They both collapse into chairs. "Well… that was a complete and utter dog's breakfast, wasn't it?"

Cas frowns. "I didn't know dogs had breakfast."

The mood lightens at bit at the angel's adorableness and everyone smiles a little.

"Anyway. Continuing the status report. Zeus, Poseidon, Hades?"

"Fine," the Sea God says. "I can say on behalf of all my brothers that we'll need to rest eventually, but are, as such, unharmed."

"Annabeth?"

"I may have a bit of a concussion," She admits, taking the apple Demeter tosses her. "But it's nothing Apollo can't fix."

"Percy?"

"I'm not-" Percy shakes his head. "I'm not sure what she did to me." It's such a sad sight, hearing Michael sound so lost. "It's like, like she pulled all the power out. It's not… gone. But it's like I've been using it all day, and I'm exhausted. I don't think I can use my default Son of Poseidon powers for at least another three days."

"And I'm guessing it's the same for you?" Sam addresses Castiel and Lucifer, who both nod silently in agreement.

"Athena?"

Athena waves from across the room, her mouth full of ambrosia. She swallows audibly, wincing at the noise. "Bruised ribs and possibly a concussion. Apollo and the ambrosia will help, but I would prefer to give it a few hours at least before we go dashing off to fight anyone."

"Demeter, Dionysus?"

For once, Demeter doesn't open her mouth to talk about cereal. "Dionysus and I are far too tired for being useful. She cut off the vines we grew around her in a place they usually do not grow, so it cost us a lot of energy."

"So, you two are out for a while." Sam notes. "Hephaestus, Aphrodite, Hermes?"

"We're okay." Hermes says. "A little roughed up, nothing a little first aid won't fix."

"This is all very nice, but has anyone bothered to look outside?" Rowena asks scathingly.

Everyone rolls their eyes. "Yes, Rowena. We saw it," Annabeth confirms. "Kind of hard to miss- the sun is huge and red and it looks the like whole sky is on fire and the Sun is dying."

"Just wondering?" Apollo raises his hand. "I'm a little out of the loop, but why would the Sun die, despite me being there?"

"Well," God explains. "While you do control a good chunk of the Sun's power; since I created it, it is largely influenced by me. When I die, the Sun goes with me and so does the rest of creation since it is the source of all life."

"Ugh." Dean lets himself collapse into a chair next to Castiel. "I want a beer. Actually," he gets back up, walks into the kitchen, and returns a moment later with a pair of six-packs. "Might as well."

"Really?" Sam asks, incredulous.

"What?" Dean replies defensively. "We hit Amara with everything we got, and she walked it off."

"So… this is it?" Annabeth clarifies. "Last call?"

"That's right." Dean says. "Look, man. If you've got something for me to punch, shoot, or kill, let me know and I'll do it. I'll do it till I die. But how are we supposed to fix the friggin' sun?"

Hermes whistles lowly. "Can't argue with that." He takes a beer of his own and looks over at Apollo. "Want one?"

Apollo snorts. "No thanks."

The Messenger god shrugs. "Suit yourself."

"Well," Rowena stands. "If the world's ending, I'll put the kettle on. My mum always said there's nothing a wee cup of tea can't fix. Although I don't think it ever applied to God dyin'. Anyone wants some?"

Athena, Hestia, Hades, Hera, Apollo and Artemis raise their hands.

"All right-y, I'll be back in a couple of minutes." The witch sashays off into the Kitchen.

"So we're just going to do nothing?" Sam slams his hands on the table in frustration, making Annabeth jump behind him.

"What are you going to do, Moose?" Crowley asks, leaning back in his chair and taking one of Dean's beers.

"Something. Anything, anything's better than this."

"Sam," Chuck reaches out and touches Sam's arm. "I get it. Even if we could lock Amara away, it wouldn't do any good now." He shakes his head in despair. "I'm dying. And when I'm gone, a cosmic balance between light and dark—it's over."

"Fine," Sam says, but he doesn't deflate. "All right. So if we can't cage her, we have to kill her."

Crowley points his beer bottle at Sam. "Bingo."

---

Dean turns to Sam and their unofficial team. Athena, wearing torn sweats and a blanket, has her nose buried in a book and a stack lying next to her, looking pleased. Apollo and Sam are starting to re-shelf the pile and Sam has only one book in his hands. "Are you sure you're cool with killing the Darkness?" Dean starts. "Cause earlier you argued not to, and-"

"Look, Chuck's dying-" Sam sends Chuck an apologetic look. "Uh, no offense, God."

"Yeah, none taken," Chuck shrugs and reaches to rub his face with a shaky hand. "I'm dying so, we don't really have a choice. I mean, look. Y-You've got darkness and light. You take one side away and—"

Lucifer nods. "It upsets the scales—the whole balance of the universe."

All the occupants of the room stare at the Morningstar incredulously. "What?" he asks, sounding defensive.

Michael raises his eyebrow. "Since when did you become the voice of reason when it comes to God?"

"Since he apologized and we had a situation with Amara." Lucifer shoots back.

Castiel shrugs. "I suppose that is fair."

"Going back to what Chuck said," Sam reverts back to the previous topic. "But if you take both away, and now both sides of the scale are empty, so …"

"Okay. Okay. Right, look." Dean takes a seat, glancing at the book Sam was holding. "How exactly are we gonna do this? I mean, Hands of God don't work on her; Lucifer and Castiel hit her with their angel blades, and, well, we saw how that turned out."

"She does seem impossible to destroy," Poseidon says from the end of the table.

"Is she, God?" Annabeth asks.

Chuck doesn't answer.

"God?" Hades asks from the couch.

"Charles?" Rowena asks from the doorway holding a tray with several cups of tea. She passes them to the Greek Gods who raised their hands and all of them nod at her gratefully.

"All right, fine!" Chuck says in defeat, throwing his arms up. "The Darkness might — might have a weakness —" He walks over to Crowley, who procured a bottle of whiskey from somewhere, and steals the bottle. "Light."

"Now he tells us." Crowley says sarcastically.

"We didn't want to kill her before!" Chuck exclaims.

"Okay," Athena says, snapping her book closed. "How much light are we talking about?"

"A lot." God shrugs. "I don't know. I'm guessing 10,000 suns set to supernova."

Everyone looks a little taken aback at that. Apollo half raises a hand, using the other to keep his blanket from falling off his shoulders. "I don't need to be a god of the sun to know that that's going to be hard to do."

"Well," Hermes says, looking pointedly at Chuck. "You're God. So… just God them up."

Artemis smacks him on the arm.

"Look at me," Chuck shoots a withering glare at the Messenger God. "Do I look like I'm in the best shape right now?"

"We just need some other ideas," Sam says. "Rowena?"

"This is beyond even the Book of the Damned." She scoffs. "I got nothing."

"Crowley?"

"Me neither, Moose."

Lucifer decides to speak up. "What about souls?"

"That's actually not a bad idea." Percy admits. "They're living batteries full of light. Each one's as powerful as … 100 suns, give or take."

"Crowley, they fuel your demon deals." Cas adds in. "Hades will have a sizeable amount in the Underworld."

"I could take some from the Fields of Asphodel." Hades agrees.

Rowena raises her eyebrows and nods. "They're not wrong."

Dean rubs his hands. "Okay, so if we got this kind of juice, then what?"

"You get me enough souls … I could build a bomb," Rowena says.

Zeus looks at Chuck. "Would that work?"

"Uh…" Chuck says hesitantly. "Maybe?"

"Okay, it's what we've got. Plan B," Sam announces. "How many souls are we talking here?"

"The more, the better," Rowena replies.

"We could get some ghosts," Dean adds. "They're just souls with baggage, right?"

"Yeah, but we would need a whole lot of them," Sam says.

Dean actually smiles. "Waverly Hills."

"Nice," Ares smiles. "Waverly Hill Sanatorium. Of course, thousands died there."

Athena stares at him looking like she wants to say something, before shaking her head and muttering something that sounds like, "Since when does he make sense?"

"Tons of ghosts," Sam confirms.

Hera stares at them all vacantly. "This is desperate … and stupid."

"Well," Aphrodite huffs. "Desperate and stupid is where we have reached."

In the meanwhile, Crowley got another battle and took a swig before sighing. "I'll go raid Hell, see what's left."

Sam claps once. "Let's get to work."

---

Dean cranes his neck back to look up at the Waverly Hills Sanatorium. "You really think this is going to work?"

"Well, Rowena said it would," Castiel replies as Sam's checking his pockets for weapons.

"Oh yeah," Dean says before putting on his most ridiculous Scottish accent. "It's a Book of the Damned spell, boyos." He mocks. "I'll stay here, keep an eye on your recovering Olympians. Take this wee crystal, it'll suck up all the blimey ghosts. Just say the magic word."

Sam grins and they move in, pulling open the heavy front door, EMF detectors in hand. They silently walk down several halls, wind gusting through empty windows and blowing around papers on the floor. At the end of the hall, a door creaks open, a ghost materializing in the distance and then disappearing into the wall.

"Place really lives up to the hype," Sam looks down at his loudly chirping EMF.

"Yeah, it does." Dean replies.

"In here." Castiel ushers them through a doorway

It's a large dayroom with lots of windows. Dean sets down the bag of gear and starts pulling out salt and shotguns. "Right, let's start with the magic word, because we're six years old and trying a spell from a witch. Time to bust some ghosts."

"I don't understand." Castiel tilts his head. "You both are in your third decade of life."

Dean barks out a laugh. "It's a joke."

"I see."

Sam lays some salt around the edges of the room. Nothing happened.

"Where the hell are they?" Dean asks, impatient.

"Beats me," Sam shrugs.

Dean gestures wildly with the shotgun and yells into the hall. "Get your Casper asses out here!"

Castiel opens his mouth to ask another question, but takes a call and closes it back.

"You know what? Why don't you finish up-" Sam hands Dean the salt. "And Cas and I'll go piss them off."

Dean lays down some more salt. Behind him, a young woman appears, hair flowing, face emaciated and curled in a half-corporeal snarl. Dean turns and throws a handful of salt at her without missing a beat. A shotgun blast echoes from down the hall as Cas and Sam re-enter the room, walking backwards, leading a large party of ghosts into the room. As more and more ghosts appear, Sam shoots more and Cas stabs them with his angel blade, and even more arrive.

"Okay, I think it worked!" Sam shouts.

"Ha!" Dean says triumphantly, scything through a ghost with an iron poker. "Whoa!" He dodges another ghost as he brings the shotgun around to bear, but he's now too far from the gear bag to get Rowena's crystal. He lunges, but a ghost is in the way and he only manages to kick the bag, sending the crystal skittering away. Sam isn't doing much better; the trio are vastly outnumbered and the ghost of a large man got under Dean's guard, grabbing him by the neck and choking him.

"Dean!" Castiel says. "Say the magic word!"

Dean ducks and weaves, finally diving to grab the crystal and toss it into the air. "HAGGIS!"

Sam and Cas fall to the floor as the ghosts turn into streams of silver light being sucked into the bomb. The crystal drops to the floor, glowing brightly as all the ghosts are absorbed.

"Wow," Sam whistles. "Go magic word."

"Not bad." Dean admits begrudgingly.

---

Cas, Sam and Dean return to the bunker to find everyone else has had much worse success than them. Only about three quarters of the team is present- Demeter, Dionysus, Aphrodite, Chuck, and Annabeth went to get some rest.

"What d'you got, Crowley?"

"I had all the souls we needed."

"What do you mean, had," Athena asks.

"While I was indisposed, a few of my demonic pals decided to raid my stash."

Artemis once again resorts to muttering to herself about the incompetence of men of any species.

Cas frowns. "What we have— it's not enough."

"Not to worry," Hades grins tiredly, "I have the entire Fields of Asphodel with me, which has around a hundred thousand lost souls. Is that enough?"

Suddenly, the electricity hums loudly and the map room, visible through the library doors, lights up with alarms.

"Well, that could be nothing but good news," Percy says sarcastically. Everyone stands, turning to aim various weapons at the entrance to the bunker. The door swings open and Billie the reaper walks in like she owns the place.

"Nice digs," she says dryly.

"Billie?" Sam asks.

Hades does a double take. "You know her?"

"Reaper. Wants us dead. Tons of fun," Dean replies succinctly.

Billie surveys the occupants of the room and in doing so she sees the Lord of Dead. "Lord Hades!" She exclaims. "What are you doing here?"

"Nothing much," Hades waves her off. "Thanatos' been telling me what a stellar job you've been doing. If you keep quiet about this situation, I may give you a promotion with a bonus."

"Hold up," Sam says, looking confused. "How do you –" He starts speaking to Hades, before deciding Billie's entrance is more important. "What are you doing here?"

"I saw you boys at Waverly Hills, and call me a curious kitten, but with, you know, credits about to roll, I had ask—why you boys busting ghosts? Also, with the way things are going, I just had to check up on God. I'm an hour away from reaping the Almighty himself." Billie takes a look at the crystal on the table. "But I guess since Hades is here, my job is pretty much done."

"Why do you care?" Dean demands.

Billie fixes him with an unwavering look. "Dead folks- kind of my thing. Toodles!"

She vanishes in a puff of air.

"How did you know her?" Dean asks. "Actually, how did you get her to leave?"

"Lord of the Dead here," Hades sighs, rubbing his face in annoyance. "She's a part of my reapers. And as for how I got her to leave without questioning anything … they always want a raise." He grumbles.

---

The air is filled with the sound of rushing wind and everyone ducks as souls start streaming into the room from seemingly nowhere, funnelling into the bomb which Hades holds outstretched. It glows brighter with every passing second, until it's almost painful to look at.

Finally, they stop.

"How many are in there?" Cas asks.

"A couple hundred … thousand." Hades draws in his hand, looking into the depths of the crystal. He looks to Rowena. "Is this good?"

"Very." Rowena holds out her hand and Hades carefully passes over the bomb.

"Great."

"Now what?" Dean says. "I guess we have the bomb now, so we need to find Amara."

Chuck staggers into the room, looking greyer than earlier.

"I can track her," He volunteers. "She's not warded anymore, since she won."

"Okay!" Dean agrees. "Great."

"We need somebody to get close to her, someone with a personal connection," Rowena says delicately. Everyone looks at Dean, who nods.

Zeus rolls his eyes. "Who else would have a personal connection with the enemy?"

"Right, right." Dean glares at him before turning to the witch. "Well, what are we waiting for? How do I smuggle this thing?"

Crowley smirks. "We could always shove it up your-"

"Nope!" Dean interrupts. "Not gonna happen."

"About that, Dean." Rowena moves in. "You won't carry the bomb. You'll be the bomb, because this crystal will explode with the amount of power it has in around a minute."

Everyone other than Hades and God stare at the crystal in abject horror.

"I'm gonna take what's in there ..." Rowena saunters up to Dean, "and put it in here." She reaches out and touches his chest. "Once you get close to her, you press your fingers together like so— boom."

"Hold up –"

"No way –"

"Wait a second –"

A babble of voice breaks through the room as everyone present reacts.

Sam doesn't move, but one hand is so tight around the back of a chair that his knuckles are white. His eyes meet Dean's

Dean raises a hand and silence falls. "Okay," he says.

Rowena doesn't waste time. She begins to chant, holding the crystal bomb tightly in her outstretched hand. She steps even closer to Dean, finishing the phrases and pushing her other hand towards the bomb and Dean. A stream of bright light, dazzling white, surges forward, hitting Dean in the chest for a long few seconds. Dean cries out and doubles over.

Everything stops and Dean carefully straightens up, wincing.

"Are you okay, Dean Winchester? How do you feel?" Hestia asks kindly.

Dean looks startled, but replies to the kind goddess. "Like my insides just got flame-broiled." He then looks at Rowena. "Is that normal?"

At least Zeus and Artemis don't make a snide comment, realizing that the mortal they despised would give up his life to save the world

"Sweetie, we're so far past normal. You've got about an hour, maybe a wee bit more, then you're literally a walking ticking time bomb."

"Right," Sam says, his face a mask. "Get the others. Let's move."

---

Car doors slam and the Olympians, Sam and Dean Winchester, Castiel Percy, Annabeth, Lucifer, Crowley, Rowena, and Chuck stand outside the gates of a neat cemetery. The Winchesters move together, preceding everyone into the cemetery with practiced steps. The Olympians watch as they cross the cemetery behind the boys, the duo stopping at a grave in the middle of a clearing, shoulder to shoulder. Through some unspoken accord, the Olympians, Annabeth, and Castiel shuffle sideways until they all can see the front of the grave and the name it bears: Mary Winchester.

Sam's head tips towards the side and his lips move; everyone other than Rowena and Annabeth have a good read on the conversation due to godly, demonic, or angelic hearing.

"Dean, you know, you don't have to do this."

Dean hardly hesitates. "'Course I do. I just have to get close." He looks at Sam. "I can do that, okay? I can do that."

Both brothers look away from each other and down at the grave. Percy decides to speak up. "You know, if this works, um, that bomb goes off."

"I know." Dean turns, heading back towards the Olympians. Annabeth's eyes linger on Sam for a long moment as the tall man brushes his fingers across his lips and down to rest lightly on the top of his mother's tombstone, staying behind to let Dean talk.

Dean himself heads for Chuck, who's leaning heavily on the Impala and on Rowena for support. "You cool with this?"

God shrugs. "No. I- even after everything she's done, Amara's still my sister. She's my family, I can't." He gestures hopelessly. "I don't want to see her dead, but...Yeah? I'm not cool. But… I understand."

He turns away from Chuck to survey the group. There's a long pause before Cas flings forward and gives Dean a bone-crushing hug. Everyone turns away in various stages of awkwardness to give them a moment, but Annabeth and Percy grin slightly as their ship sails. After a long moment, the youngest angel steps back, his eyes wet but gleaming fiercely. "Don't forget. I – We love you."

Dean's lips twitch in the smallest smile. "I know."

Aphrodite coos at them, high-fiving Annabeth and Percy. "Destiel is a go!" She exclaims with starry eyes. "Oh, I love these kinds of romances! Why, I remember when Percabeth –"

"Aphrodite?" Artemis asks.

"Yes?"

"Shut up." Athena finishes, causing the Olympian council to explode in laughter.

Percy steps up, his hand out to pull Dean into a half hug. "Good luck, Dean." Annabeth nods at Dean.

"Thanks, guys," Dean says.

Zeus and Artemis' eyes don't acknowledge him with disdain for once, and that's more than enough for Dean. Hestia and Poseidon smile at him warmly as Apollo and Hermes both give him a high-five. Hera nods at him with approval shining in her eyes, while Aphrodite squeals to herself about 'Destiel'.

"Eat more cereal." Demeter says seriously.

Dean laughs long and hard as the Greeks groan. "Sure." He says simply.

"Uh," Lucifer clears his throat, looking uncomfortable. "I'm sorry."

The entire group stares at the Devil in stunned silence. Dean looks long and hard at the devil. "Apology accepted." He says, because what is the point of carrying grudges to his grave?

Lucifer smiles a bit. "Thanks, and good luck." He goes off to talk to his older brother.

"Are my eyes and ears failing me or did my son just apologize?" Chuck demands.

"I heard that!"

"I could go with you," Cas offers after a while of listening to Lucifer and Chuck bickering playfully with Michael playing exasperated mediator.

"No, no. No." Dean shakes his head. "I got to do this alone. Listen," he turns to Percy and Annabeth. "If – when – this works, Sam- he's gonna be a mess. He's gonna need some time, but he's also going to need someone to look out for him. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. Maybe-" Dean hesitates, glancing behind quickly to make sure Sam is still a distance away. "Maybe give him some time. A day. By himself, or just with Cas, but mostly alone. To, you know. Process. But then-"

"We understand, Dean," Annabeth assures him.

"Good. Um." Dean scuffs a shoe on the ground. "Thanks."

Sam makes his way back to the group and Dean turns to his brother. "Okay, look. I want a big funeral. I'm talking epic. Open bar, gospel choir, Sabbath cover band, and Gary Busey reading the eulogy."

Sam rolls his eyes and half smiled. "Done."

Dean's own smile fades. "And for my ashes, I like it here." He glances around, coming back to Mary Winchester's grave. "Yeah. As far as eternal resting places go, it's not bad."

Dean reaches into his pocket and takes out the keys to the Impala, weighing them in his hand. Everyone watches as he holds them out. Sam shakes his head, his eyes bright with tears. Dean forces another smile, but it's clear it hurt, and after a moment, he lets it drop. "Come on. You know the drill. No chick flick moments."

Sam hesitates, then reaches out to take the keys. "You love chick flicks."

Dean chuckles, short and low. "Yeah, you're right. I do. Come here," he demands, already pulling Sam into a hug.

There were sniffs all around as both brothers close their eyes tight, gripping each other close.

"They're so cute!" Aphrodite exclaims.

"I will personally run you through my hunting knives if you don't shut up." Artemis threatens.

The goddess of love pouts. "What do you know of love? The love of a sibling as profound as theirs is a thing to be celebrated!"

Sam awkwardly pulls away once he hears that. Dean clears his throat. "Okay. Let's do it."

Chuck raises his hand and snaps his fingers and immediately collapses into Rowena's arms. Dean vanishes. Sam crosses his arms and goes to lean against a tree near Mary's grave.

Silence descends. Above them all, the sun burns red and huge. No birds sing. And they wait.

---

Nearly a half hour later, they're still there. Everyone drifts apart; Sam's still standing like a sentinel by Mary's grave, Hades and Poseidon are wandering through the tombstones, Apollo, Hermes, and Athena are sitting and leaning against the Impala, eyes on the sky, Artemis and Ares standing nearby. Percy and Annabeth are sitting on the ground close to where Sam stands. Demeter, Lucifer and Cas are pulling weeds growing up around some of the tombs and neatly stacking them in a pile. Chuck's paler than ever, his face looking pasty, lying across the front seats of the Impala, the radio on loud enough for all of them to hear.

"Pitiful – they've given up," Crowley says mockingly from where he sits with Rowena in the Impala's backseat.

The announcer's voice echoes loudly across the cemetery. "And while law enforcement is telling people not to panic, residents are being advised to stay in their homes as authorities are baffled by this st—" Rowena leans forward and snaps off the radio.

"When will we know if this works?" Athena asks quietly; her curiosity ever present, even in the middle of a crisis.

Apollo shakes his head. "I don't know."

---

Amara, still in her statement black gown, sits against the wall; reliving the moments before she exacts her revenge for being locked away for eons. She notices that the park had quickly lost its liveliness once she arrived – the chirping birds flew away, all the chattering humans left and the trees began to look greyer with every passing minute

God created all this. She thinks. Was I not enough?

Just then, an elderly woman strolls in the place where all her fellow humans had left. The woman pays that fact no mind and sweetly whistles to herself. Slowly, some of the birds return hesitantly and perch themselves near the woman's feet. She smiles and takes out a few slices of bread and breaks them into small crumbs as she says cheerfully. "Hiya, there!"

Amara blinks, taken aback. "Hello."

"That's a nice dress you're wearing, dearie." She smiles at Amara warmly. "A bit too much for a stroll in the park but hey, at least you made an effort." The woman offers a slice of bread. "You want to feed them?"

"I shouldn't."

"Well, dearie, it's your choice." The woman goes back to feeding the birds whose joyful chirping brought the other birds who left and continues to chat. "I've been feeding these birds for almost twenty years now, and this will make me sound like a crazy old bat, but they're practically family. My husband has been dead for a couple of years and my children keeping slipping brochures for retirement homes – just a fancy name for a place they send old people to die without making much of a fuss."

"So you hate them." Amara's similar experience allows her to empathize with the woman.

"Well, dearie, I do a little bit. Sometimes." The woman shrugs. "But what can you do? They're family – as much as you hate them, you love them more."

---

Many miles away, Dean stands in a garden. There are dead flowers before him, and birds, but the old woman is nowhere to be seen.

"Hello, Dean." Amara appears on the other end of the small flower bed separating them. "How did you find me?"

"Does it matter?" Dean asks rhetorically. "I'm here to give you what you want. Me."

Amara raises her perfectly sculpted eyebrows. "That's a change."

Dean begins a slow walk towards her. "Well, I can't just stand by and watch the world, my friends, and my family die. So if becoming a part of you takes me away from that, then I'm in."

"You ... and that bomb in your chest?" Dean stops walking. "Do you think I can't taste the power coming off of you? Please. The problem is you've never been able to hurt me. So what makes this time any different?"

Dean keeps inching her way. "I don't have a choice. What you're doing to the sun—"

"That's not me." The Darkness explains. "With my brother getting weaker, the scales are tipping away from light."

Dean looks incredulous. "And into darkness."

"Into nothing," Amara corrects. "When God's gone, the universe—everything will cease to exist. Including me."

She looks away, eyes trailing over the dead flowers to land on the dying sun. "My brother betrayed me. He locked me away for billions of years. He sent you to execute me."

"No," Dean cuts her off. "No, no. He zapped me here, yes, but he didn't want this. This was not his idea. You're family, he doesn't want you dead; he doesn't want any of this." Dean gestures around them. "Is this what you wanted?"

The wind picks up, blowing hot around them. "No! I just wanted to hurt him. I wanted to make him pay."

"Yeah, that's revenge," Dean says. "It'll get you out of bed in the morning, and when you get it, it feels great ... for about five minutes. I've been there. Me and Sam—we have had our fair share of fights—more than our share—but no matter how bad it got, we always made it right because we're family. I need him." His breath catches for a moment. "He needs me. And when everything goes to crap, that's all you've got—family. Now you might be a—an all-powerful being...but I think you're human where it counts. You simply need your brother."

Amara scoffs at him. "Just stop."

Dean doesn't, because he's a little shit with zero sense of self-preservation. "You don't want to be alone. Not really. I mean, hell. Maybe that's why you wanted me. But deep down, you didn't really want me ... 'cause I'm not him. So maybe I can kill you. Or maybe I can't. Maybe if I pull this trigger, we all live happily ever after, or maybe we die bloody, or maybe it doesn't matter, because maybe there's a different way." He's within a distance to strike, to trigger the bomb, but he doesn't. Not yet. "So I'm gonna ask you again. Put aside the rage. Put aside the hate. And you tell me ... what do you want?"

---

The tense silence is broken by Percy's startled "Chuck?"

Everyone looks over to find the passenger seat of the car is empty. God is gone.

"Dad?" Lucifer calls out in worry.

"CHUCK!" Sam exclaims as their team descends into chaos.

---

Chuck looks around at the garden, the sun, and his sister, standing a few feet from Dean Winchester. "Why did you bring me here?"

"Brother, I…"

Dean takes a few steps away. Chuck moves in, closer to his sister, who seems to shrink.

"In the beginning it was just you and me, and we were family. I loved you, and I thought — I knew ... that you loved me."

Chuck nods. "I did." He pauses, sighing. "I do."

Amara's voice cracks. "But then you went and you made all these other things. I hated them. I hated you for needing something else, something that wasn't me. And then you locked me away, and all I could think about was making you suffer."

"You had your reasons."

"I did. And I thought revenge would make me happy. But I was wrong. What you've made ... it's beautiful." She reaches out to touch Chuck's arm, but aborts the motion at the last moment, crossing her arms instead. "It took me a long time to see that. I know that we can't go back to the way things were. I don't want to, but I wish ... I wish that we could just be family again."

Chuck smiles. "I do too." He extends his own hand and Amara takes it. The place where their hands touch glows red and in the short blink of an eye, the sun begins to glow again, the red haze of the dying star returning to its proper colour.

---

In the cemetery, Sam's legs buckle and he locks his knees as the sun blinks back to normal. He lets his eyes close for a long moment and then forces himself to move, back to the Impala, without making eye contact with anyone.

"He did it," Crowley says.

"He bloody did it," Rowena adds.

Sam slams the passenger side door to the car as he went by, walking around the long hood of the car to slide into the rarely frequented drivers side. He glances in the rear view mirror, back at the demon and witch in the backseat. "Out."

"Been nice spending time with you," Crowley says. "Mother, shall we?"

"Hm, I think so," Rowena nods at them all, winks at Annabeth, and lays a hand on Crowley's arm. The duo blink out of existence.

"Goodbye." Zeus nods stiffly, the Olympians disappearing in flash.

"Bloody drama queen," Percy mutters, causing thunder to rumble. "Oh, shut up!"

Sam doesn't argue when Castiel gets into the passenger seat of the Impala. Nobody else tries to get in the car, for which he's grateful. Percy, though, leans down to look in the window. "Annabeth and I are always a call away."

Sam's jaw works for a moment, apparently torn between telling them all to just leave him alone and wanting to break down. "Okay," he finally says.

"We'll be in Upper East Side Manhattan."

Sam starts the car, rolling up the window before Percy can say anything else, and drives off.

"I guess I'll try living as a mortal," Lucifer says awkwardly.

Michael smiles at him. "You're more than welcome to ask for any help, little bro. You know where to find me." He says, before freezing.

"What is it, Percy?" Annabeth asks.

"Dean's alive," He says, stunned. "And so is Mary Winchester."

---

Sam's sure he must be hallucinating, because he sees Dean in the hallway of the bunker with his mother.

"Dean?" Castiel says, shocked. "… And Mary Winchester?"

Apparently not, if Cas is seeing the same thing.

"In the flesh," Dean smiles. "Now come give me a hug, Sammy."

"How are you alive?" Sam demands.

Dean shrugs. "Amara decided to heal God and call off the End and left mum as a little parting present."

Sam looks at his older brother with wide eyes. "How did you get here?"

"Some angels named Percy and Lucas flew us here." His mother replies, eyes shining. She grabs the youngest Winchester in a tight hug. "Oh, my baby boy, you've grown so much."

"Hi, mum." Sam smiles, before untangling himself to hug Dean. "Michael and Lucas?"

Dean laughs and returns his hug. "That's the name the Devil's going by, it seems."

Castiel snaps out of his shock and once the Winchesters are done hugging each other, walks up to Dean and slaps him.

"Ow!" Dean protests. "What was that for?"

"For having us believe that you had passed away," Cas grabs his collar. "Never do that again."

Dean's grin is lopsided. "Hey, I'm a Winchester, trouble loves me." Castiel glares at him. "But I'll do my best."

"Good." The angel says, before moving to kiss Dean.

---

"Son," Poseidon calls out.

Percy looks at him hesitantly, reminding Poseidon of when he was the awkward twelve year old that met him in the Throne Room after getting back Zeus' bolt. "Yeah?"

Poseidon smiles at him. "This remains between you and me." He says. "I'll let you know – you aren't in any danger of Zeus doing anything to you."

Percy perks up. "Really?"

"Well, you could always use your power as Archangel Michael and wipe our memories," Poseidon grins as Percy winces, "but he has grown slightly, shall we say, fond of you. He's going to deny it all the way to Tartarus, so don't tell him I said anything."

"So I can go back to Camp without being summoned for a trial?" Percy asks hopefully.

Poseidon places a hand on his shoulder. "My brother is going to pretend that this never happened." He confirms, before his face adopts a puzzled look. "Also, Aphrodite wants to say your ship Destiel has sailed."

Percy grins at his father before hugging him tightly. Poseidon stiffens due to shock for a brief moment, but reaches out to hug his son back. "Thanks, Dad."

The sheer joy Poseidon feels when Percy says those words are indescribable and leave him tongue-tied. He quickly gains his ability to speak once his curiosity overwhelms his rationality.

"You never told me you had a ship!" Poseidon exclaims.

Percy smiles. "It's not that kind of ship." He explains. "Aphrodite will explain."

Michael flies away before Poseidon can ask any more questions.

---

"False alarm." Annabeth marches into the Big House, Percy in tow. "He was just at his mom's house."

Clarisse rolls her eyes at the cabin councillors who immediately begin chatting amongst each other. "See? I told you he'd be fine!"

"Thanks for the vote of confidennce, Clarisse." Percy says dryly.

The daughter of Ares scowls at him, turning to leave. "Yeah, yeah, just don't let it get to your head, Prissy."

Percy grins at her as the other cabin councillors and Chiron begin to leave. "Wouldn't dream of it!"

"Dude," Leo, standing next to Piper, says. "You gave us a pretty bad scare."

"Sorry," Percy says, looking the right amount of sheepish as he gets ready to say his excuse. "Had an emergency with Mom and Paul."

"It's okay." Piper smiles at him "Just tell us next time, okay?" They turn to leave.

Chiron places a hand on his shoulder, looking at him with deep brown eyes filled with understanding when there's only him and Nico left. "I am glad you are safe after your encounter with the Darkness." The old mentor says softly before exiting the Big House.

"Nico!" Annabeth calls out, seeing that the son of Hades was trying to sneak away unnoticed. "Could you come here for a bit?"

The Ghost King freezes in his spot for a second before shuffling over to where the daughter of Athena is standing with her boyfriend. Said daughter of Athena grabs his ear like one does to a naughty child and says, "You are so dead for not telling me Percy was an Archangel sooner!"

Percy laughs as he hears his cousin actually whimper in fear. "See you later, Neeks." He grins. "I'm out of here!"

"I'll get you back for this!"

---

So, the trio of Winchesters are still off doing the family business, only with Castiel (and, occasionally, Lucifer) helping them out. Dean and Castiel marry within the next two years (it only took them seven years to figure out their feelings for each other) and plan to settle down in another three as Dean complains about his aching joints from a lifetime of work more often.

Initially, Sam was just happy that their UST stage was finally over, but quickly discovers that their RST phase is just as obnoxious.

Mary Winchester, bless her heart, was fully approving of an angel dating her son.

Lucifer, now Lucas Morgenstern, is a best-selling author with his book series, Sympathy For The Devil, and lives in a small cozy apartment in Upper East Side Manhattan (close to his brother's). He's planning to adopt a child, but thinks he should wait a few years though Michael and Castiel have been very supportive of that idea.

Also, he will never admit this, but he has a crush on his scientist of a neighbour next door, who is his best friend. Who would believe that this angel hated humanity once upon a time?

The Olympians move on with their eternal lives as they always have – siring demigods, partying and performing other crazy shenanigans. Nothing has changed, except for the fact that they visit their children more because it takes the world almost ending to make them realize how much they will miss their children.

Annabeth becomes a famous Architect and even builds a multinational firm with billions of dollars and Percy becomes an Olympic gold medallist in swimming. Though he has an unfair advantage being the son of Poseidon; but what they don't know won't kill them, right?

Crowley is off doing his King of Hell duties and builds a solid hold over Hell's hierarchy. The Devil frankly doesn't care, so he lets the demon do what he wants, which is fine by the rest of the pit.

Rowena is off doing witch things with other sister witches and even manages to meet Hecate, the patron of witches and causes quite a bit of mischief for her own gain.

God and Amara are off in some unknown part of this universe, bonding with each other and catching up on what they missed; which is fine with everyone else as long as they don't start another end of times.

So, they all lived happily ever after.

At least, till Lucifer lights his apartment on fire because of how nervous he felt before he asks his scientist to marry him.

Fin.

---

My dear readers,

Angels Are Idiots was not intended to have a sequel. But because of how many of you asked, it's finally here. Three years too late, I know, and way too long, I know, but at least it's here!

Thank you to everyone who read Angels Are Idiots and this. Since my writing skills are a bit rusty from disuse, this may not seem like the greatest piece of work and for that I apologize from the bottom of my heart. Forgive me?

Anyway, life and drama got in the way of making this but two long years later, I've finally finished this.

R&R
Starlit Night 67