A/N: So I spewed out a massive story, then thought I'd upload it onto here because I figured it was a halfway decent piece of writing.

Oh, who am I kidding, I'm fucking brilliant.

Enjoy my story.

Oh, and I may have 'borrowed' some ideas and characters from Good Omens and The Mortal Instruments. All these ideas and characters belong to Neil Gaiman, Terry Pratchett and Cassandra Clare respectively.

Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and Robert Singer. I own nothing. Not even the plot. Not yet, anyway. All I own are my characters and my reality. And I'll let you know when I start owning the plot (this will happen pinky swear).

It was a sunny Thursday afternoon, and Dean was sitting on the hood of the Impala, drinking a beer while Sam plotted their route with the aid of a large map. All in all an average Thursday afternoon for the Winchesters, which didn't deviate at all from the commonplace when they heard a scream getting louder and louder and looked up towards the source to see someone falling towards them from the sky.

The someone hit the ground a few meters from the Impala, creating a small crater at the point of impact. Dean looked at Sam and Sam looked at Dean. Then, they both shrugged and went over to peer down the crater.

Lying at the bottom was a young woman, mid to late twenties, with her neck and limbs all bent at extremely awkward angles. It was clear she was quite dead. There was absolutely no way she could have survived that fall. She was most definitely not alive.

The woman groaned and turned her head with a sickening crunch of vertebrae realigning. She sat up and straightened out her right arm, then used it to pop first her left shoulder, then both of her legs back into place. The woman stood up. She was tall and athletic, with long, golden-blonde hair and dark eyes. Her face had high cheekbones and strong eyebrows, and she was dressed head to toe in black.

'Well don't just stand there gawping like a pair of lemons. Would either of you intelligent-looking young gentlemen like to tell me where the bloody hell I am?'

She spoke with an English accent.

'Um,' said Dean. 'Nebraska?'

The woman, who had been gazing around with a faintly amused expression, suddenly snapped her head back to him, an expression of unsurprised dismay on her face.

'Nebraska. Brilliant. Which year?'

'2009,' replied Sam.

'Are you okay, Blondie?' Sam shot his brother a weary look.

'I'm Sam, this is my brother, Dean. Who are you?'

'Good question,' she said, folding her arms and tilting her head to the side as if she were giving it a great deal of thought. 'So far, all I know about who I am is that I can apparently survive a lot of broken bones at a time.' She leaned over to get a glimpse of her reflection in the window of the Impala. 'Oh, and apparently I'm stunningly good-looking as well! Lucky me.'

Dean made a face as if to say 'can't disagree there.'

Sam frowned at her and put a hand on Dean's shoulder.

'Could you give us a minute?'

Blondie shrugged.

'Go for it.'

Sam dragged Dean around to the other side of the Impala.

'Angel?' he said.

'Probably,' said Dean. 'I mean, the chick fell from the sky and has no memories. Remind you of anyone?'

Sam nodded.

'We should call Cas, he might recognise her.'

'I don't,' came Castiel's gravelly voice. He had just appeared next to Dean, and glanced over at the woman. 'She's no Angel.'

'Demon, then?'

Sam raised his eyebrows.

'One way to check…'

Dean nodded and silently drew a flask of holy water out of his jacket, holding it behind his back. The three of them came back round. Blondie cocked her head to one side, looking at Castiel.

'Did you just appear out of thin air? You did, didn't you.' She paused, and frowned. 'Why am I not more surprised at that?'

Dean wasted no time. He flung his hand outwards and the holy water hit the woman square in the face. Her only reaction was to scrunch up her face and blink a little.

'Um, ok. Is that a standard greeting in Nebraska, or-'

She was cut off as Castiel grabbed her hand and nicked her across the arm with a silver blade.

'Ouch! What was that for?'

She looked at him angrily, but the cut had already healed over. She snatched her hand away.

'Well she's not a Demon,' said Castiel, helpfully.

'And the silver rules out a lot of other things,' added Sam, folding his arms. 'But she can heal herself, so she's not human.'

'Demon…silver…' the woman murmured. Her brows knitted for a moment, then she blinked and her expression cleared.

'Do you remember something?' asked Dean. She shook her head.

'No, but the words ring a bell. As if I've heard them before.'

Castiel, meanwhile, was rolling up his sleeve.

'This may sting a little,' he warned, before plunging his hand into his stomach.

'Dude!' exclaimed Dean. The woman screamed and stumbled but Castiel held her up with his other arm. After a few minutes, he withdrew his hand.

'She has a soul,' he confirmed.

Blondie sank to the ground, clutching her stomach and dry-retching.

'Not cool, Cas,' said Dean, glaring at him. Castiel looked over at him.

'I'm sorry, was that not socially acceptable?'

The question was answered when a fist met his cheekbone with a resounding crunch and a yelp of pain from Blondie.

'Ow, Jesus! What are you freaking made of, basalt?'

'No,' said Castiel, without a hint of sarcasm. 'I am an Angel of the Lord.'

'Right. And I'm the Devil incarnate.'

'Unfortunately, he's serious,' muttered Dean.

'I'll take your word for it.' She glowered at Castiel. 'I don't suppose my soul told you my name, did it?'

'No.'

'Do you have any ID on you?' asked Sam, helpfully. 'Credit card, driver's license?'

Blondie shrugged and reached into her back pocket, withdrawing a slim black wallet with the word CÉLINEstamped on the front.

'Is that your name?' asked Castiel. Blondie threw him a withering look.

'No, that's the name of the designer who made this wallet.'

She flipped it open and looked at the cards inside.

'So apparently my name's Alessandra Nicholetti...Or Scarlett Aurora...Or Olympia Lenoir…' She snapped the wallet shut. 'Great. I just had to be the sort of person with multiple identities. Right, I like Scarlett. Call me Scarlett.'

Scarlett walked over to the road and looked left and right before turning back to them.

'Is there a diner somewhere? I would kill for a burger right now.'

Dean's stomach suddenly rumbled loudly.

'I like her already,' he muttered. 'Alright, everybody in the car. We can continue this conversation over food.'

The nearest town was a place called Alliance, where they found a cheap diner and sat down to order.

'I'd like the Baconator with extra bacon and large fries on the side, please,' said Scarlett, upon being asked what she wanted. 'And don't hold back on the cheese, but feel free to go easy on the salad and completely leave out the tomato. Oh, and a strawberry milkshake. Thanks.'

The spotty teenage boy gawped at Scarlett as he wrote down her order. Dean cleared his throat.

'Make that two.'

'And I'll have the chicken caesar salad,' said Sam. Scarlett and Dean both turned their heads to stare at him, unimpressed. 'What? I don't want my heart to explode.'

Scarlett snorted as their waiter left.

'I say live fast, die young and leave a good-looking corpse.' She paused. 'I don't know why I say that.'

'Do you have any memories at all?' asked Dean. 'Your childhood, maybe?'

'Nope, it's like my memories have been wiped clean, but my personality's been left.' She sighed. 'Anyway, do you guys mind filling me in on what's going on with this world? You mentioned Angels and Demons and for some reason I don't find that weird at all which leads me to believe we have the same where I come from.'

'The Devil has escaped from Hell and is trying to bring about the Apocalypse,' Castiel summarised. 'If we don't do something, the world as you know it will end in an all-out war between Heaven and Hell.' Scarlett raised her eyebrows.

'Well aren't you just a ray of sunshine.'

At that point, their spotty waiter returned with their order.

'Can I get you anything else?' he asked in a monotone, staring at Scarlett again.

'No, thank you,' said Dean, eyeing up his burger gleefully.

'If you need anything, just call. My name's Chad,' he blurted, and ran away.

Castiel looked at the place where Chad had just been standing, then at Sam and Dean.

'What's wrong with him?'

'He was probably perturbed by my enchanting beauty,' replied Scarlett, picking up her burger. 'After all, I am absurdly attractive.'

'I think it's best you stay with us till we can figure out how to restore your memories,' said Sam, as they left the diner. Castiel had unexpectedly left halfway through their meal. 'It's likely that the wrong people might be after you.'

'You guys want to help me? Why?'

'It's what we do,' said Dean, clearing his throat.

'Well...thanks. I'll make it up to you, somehow. I don't know why, but I feel like I'm supposed to help you with something.'

Dean shrugged.

'Who knows, maybe we're supposed to help each other.'

'So what's the plan?'

'Well, Sam and me are working a case, so you sit tight while we take care of that. Then, we'll take you to our friend Bobby, he'll know what to do.'

Scarlett frowned.

'I don't think I like sitting tight...but fine. Where will I be doing this tight sitting?'

'At the motel. We'll salt up the doors and exits, make sure nothing nasty comes in.'

'Ah, well in that case-'she stopped at a cash point and pulled her wallet out of her pocket. 'I'm gonna need some cash.'

She slotted her card in and punched in her PIN, then stopped.

'How'd I know my PIN number?' she muttered.

'Muscle memory?' supplied Sam. Scarlett nodded, then turned her attention back to the screen.

'Oh!' she exclaimed. The number on the screen under 'BALANCE' was extremely long. Several figures long, in fact. 'And apparently I'm loaded. Isn't that a pleasant surprise. In that case, I'm paying for all of us until further notice.'

'What? No!' exclaimed Dean. 'You don't have to do that!'

'Don't be stupid,' she said, withdrawing a couple hundred dollars. 'What the hell else am I supposed to do with this stuff? Buy a yacht?'

She pocketed her engorged wallet and they set off again.

'Thanks,' Dean muttered.

'Yeah, thanks,' repeated Sam.

They arrived at a motel and paid for a two bedroom apartment. As soon as they reached the room, Sam and Dean went to change into suits, and Scarlett flopped down on the bed, her bones aching from her fall. How had she survived that, and how did she get here? She sincerely hoped that the recovery of her memories would aid in answering those questions.

'Right, we're going out. Don't leave this room and don't open the door to anyone but us.'

'Alright, dad.' She rolled her eyes. 'I'll just chill here, then.'

Dean nodded once.

'Good.'

The brothers left, leaving Scarlett by herself. With nothing better to do and, deciding that she really needed it, Scarlett took a nap.

Sam and Dean were in and out throughout the day with various bits and pieces of information and clues, the most notable being the buzzer that effectively cooked a large ham. The attacks all had something to do with myths children believed in, like the tooth fairy, and itching powder making you claw your brains out.

'Right,' said Sam, spreading a map onto the table. 'I found something. All the attacks were located within a two mile radius.'

'So we've got a blast zone of weird? What's in the centre?'

'Four acres of farmland and a house.'

'Our motel isn't in that circle by any chance?'

'It is,' said Scarlett, peering at the map over Dean's shoulder. 'Why?'

'Uhh…' He held up his hand. On his palm was a thick coating of hair. Scarlett snorted loudly while Sam made a face.

'Dude.'

'What? I got bored.'

'You know you can go blind from that too?' Scarlett choked.

'Shuddup. Gimme five minutes, we'll go check out the house.'

'Do not use my razor!' Sam called after him.

Scarlett was bored. It had been three hours since Sam and Dean had left, and there was physically no way she could sleep any more. She was lying on the bed, watching terrible TV and trying to jog her memories with a one-woman game of word association when she heard a whooshing sound, like the rustle of wings. She jumped off the bed and grabbed the knife Dean had left her, poised to throw it, but relaxed when she saw Castiel.

'Oh, it's you,' she said, dropping the knife onto the bedside table. 'What do you want?'

Castiel cocked his head to one side.

'You dislike me.'

'In my defence, you did cut me and shove your hand into my stomach within a minute of meeting me. Not a stellar first impression, as they go. Also, you speak like you have an enormous stick up your arse.'

'So I've been told. Where are Sam and Dean? They called me.'

'They're out.'

'Good. I'll wait for them here.'

Scarlett took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

'Great. Do you want some tea?'

'I am an Angel of the Lord. I do not require sustenance.'

'I said want, halo-boy. Not need.'

'My name is Castiel.'

'I care so much. Now do you want some tea or not?'

Slowly, Castiel nodded. Scarlett switched the kettle on and put teabags into two chipped mugs.

'Milk and sugar?'

'I don't know.'

'Two black teas coming right up, then. Just as well, really. There's no milk or sugar. Ham?' she added on reflection, nodding at the roast Dean had left on the table. Castiel shook his head.

'How did you know how to throw that knife?'

'What do you mean?'

'When I came in. You were about to throw the knife at me, and correctly. How did you know?'

Scarlett shrugged and went to pour hot water into their mugs.

'Muscle memory,' she recalled Sam's earlier explanation. 'Maybe I'm a trained killer.'

She set Castiel's mug down on the table and took a sip from her own without thinking.

'Mm!' she exclaimed as the boiling tea scalded her throat. 'Ow that-' She stopped as she felt a sudden numbness overcome the pain, followed by a barely noticeable dull ache. '-hurt?' she finished, looking confused.

'Are you alright?'

'Yeah, I- I think I burnt myself and then healed it.'

'You seem to have regenerative power.' He took a sip from his own mug. 'This is…a very enjoyable beverage.'

Scarlett smiled at him for the first time since they'd met, tipping her chair back on its two back legs.

'Well if you like tea, you can't be all bad,' she muttered, more to herself than to him.

At that point, the door opened, admitting the brothers Winchester.

'I take it you got our message?' said Dean.

'It's lucky you found the boy,' replied Castiel, standing up.

'Yeah, lucky. What do we do with him?'

'Kill him.'

'Excuse me?' exclaimed Scarlett, her chair crashing back down to all fours. 'How old is this boy?'

'This child is half-Demon and half human, but far more powerful than either,' Cas pressed on, ignoring her. 'Other cultures call this hybrid Cambion or Katako. You know him as the Antichrist.'

He sat back down onto a different chair and let rip what sounded like a loud and extremely long fart. Scarlett and Dean fought to keep straight faces. Sam looked unimpressed. When it was finished, Castiel pulled a whoopee cushion out from beneath him.

'That wasn't me,' he said, seriously.

'Who put that there?' grinned Dean as Scarlett gave up, let out a loud snort of laughter and got up to refill her mug.

'Anyways, I don't get it,' said Sam, ignoring Dean and Scarlett. 'Jesse is the Devil's son?'

'No, of course not,' replied Castiel. 'Your Bible gets more wrong than it does right. The Antichrist is not Lucifer's child.'

Scarlett turned around slowly, her brows furrowed.

'Lucifer…' she muttered. 'Lucifer…the morning star…' Suddenly, she gasped, her expression clearing. 'Morgenstern.'

The mug slipped from her fingers and shattered against the floor, tea spilling everywhere. Her eyes were wide and her mouth slack, as if she'd seen a ghost. Then, she shook her head violently, blinking furiously. When she stopped and opened her eyes, they had gone from a murky brown to bright gold, as if a wall had been lifted inside her mind. There was a smile on her face.

'I remember.' Then, her eyes narrowed. 'Carlel Devereux, you son of a bitch.' She turned to the others.

'My name is Callisto Azrael. Cal. I was sent here by a friend of mine, presumably for my own safety, though what right he has to decide that for me, I do not know. I'm a Demon hunter, just like you two, only a little bit...turbo-charged.'

Dean raised an eyebrow.

'Turbo-charged?'

'You know. Superhuman. Ability to regenerate any and all injuries, impossible to kill. The usual.'

'Really?'

'Where I come from, it is…Anyway, glad to have my brain back, we need to find the Antichrist now.'

'We are not killing a kid!' exclaimed Sam.

'Of course we aren't!' said Callisto, brightly. 'I have a guy.'

'You have…a guy?' asked Castiel, looking incredulous.

'Yeah, you probably know him, actually. Chap called Aziraphale?'

Castiel raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

'A commendable choice of...guy.'

'Yes. Now I just need to give him a buzz…Can I borrow someone's phone?' Sam extended his Blackberry to her. She dialled a number and held it up to her ear. 'Hey, Aziraphale!…I'm good, hun, and you?…Yeah? How's the bookstore?…Good good. So listen, you know how we dealt with the last Antichrist and you said they'd make another one?…Yeah, well, we've found the new kid.'

There was a rustle of wings and an angel appeared in the room. This one was a man in his thirties, with dark hair and blue eyes. He was wearing a fur-lined coat.

'Callisto, darling.' They kissed each other's cheeks. 'The Winchesters, always a pleasure. And Castiel! Good to see you, brother.'

'And you, Aziraphale.' The two of them embraced briefly. Then, Aziraphale clapped his hands together.

'Right, to business, shall we? Take me to the Antichrist.'

'You're not gonna kill him, are you?'

'My dear Sam, why would I do that? No, I'm just going to make sure he grows in the right direction, so when the time comes, he uses his powers for good, and uses them correctly. Now, the address, if you please?'

Dean looked over to Castiel.

'Cas, you trust this guy?'

'Yes.'

He scrawled something on a piece of paper and handed it over. Aziraphale smiled brightly.

'Cheers, I'll be off then. Winchesters, it's been lovely to meet you; I'm sure I'll see you again. Castiel.' They shook hands. 'Cal, take care of yourself, love.' He hugged her and kissed the top of her head, then stepped back and vanished in a rustle of wings.

Callisto clapped her hands together.

'Sorted,' she said. 'Consider the Antichrist taken care of; he's done this before.'

'Wait, there's been an Antichrist before?' asked Dean. Callisto nodded, slicing off a sliver of ham and popping it in her mouth.

'Back in the nineties, there was this kid called Adam in Tadfield.'

'Where?'

'Exactly. Anyway, long story short, Aziraphale's already managed to avert one apocalypse.'

'Stopping the Antichrist won't avert the apocalypse,' said Castiel. 'We need to kill Lucifer.'

Callisto snorted.

'Ok brilliant. I'll just lock and load, pop over to his house and shoot him in his sleep, shall I? Or do you think poison would work better?'

'I'm serious. If we had the Colt-'

'But we don't,' said Sam. 'Lilith has the Colt.'

'Yeah,' added Dean. 'Because that bitch Bela gave it to her.'

'Well then,' said Callisto, standing up and stretching. 'Whoever Lilith and Bela are, and whatever this Colt is, we'd better track it down. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an angry call to make. Er...can I borrow your phone again, Sam?' He handed it over to her with a nod. 'Cheers.'

She went into the corner of the room before dialling.

Hello?

'Carlel,' she began, in saccharine tones. 'Darling.'

Ah. Cals. I see you've regained your memories. That was quick.

'I have, no thanks to you.' Her voice took on a harder edge.

It was for your own protection!

'Oh for God's sake, Carlel, what's he going to do to me? Shoot me? Because that's proven so effective in the past.'

Don't be thick, Azrael. If anyone can figure out a way to dampen your abilities, it's Maximilian Summer, and he's after you specifically, right now.

Callisto let out a frustrated groan.

'Do you even know where and when you've sent me?!'

No, and I don't want to. Knowing where you are puts people in danger.

'Fine, but just know that there are Angels and Demons here too, and I don't have any weapons worth a damn.'

You have you.

'Helpful as always, Devereux.'

It's why you love me.

'I really don't.'

You love me with the force of a thousand suns.

'I'm hanging up now.'

Kisses, keep me posted.

'Blow it out your ass, Carlel.'

Love you too.

Callisto hung up and gave the phone back to Sam, rolling her eyes. Castiel had disappeared, leaving the three of them to plan their next move.