A/N: HOLY FUCKING SHIT GUYS I DID IT. *slams mug on ground* ANOTHER

Um. I think we've missed Valentine's day...but to be fair nobody I know likes that holiday anyways.

All my friends are heathens.

Okay, so, I'm finally giving in and sharing my personal playlist for this fic. It's all just a bunch of generic crap you've probably heard a billion times before, but so help me if I hear any one of these songs I just-They've become GaG's theme songs, to me. Fire Meet Gasoline especially. I don't care if some of them aren't really relevant-they're my GaG music and so help me I love it.
So, uh. Ta. drive. google open?id= 11taTpBOm9s9M1Ixlqz8pCmYWEGjXE38T (just take out the spaces, you know the drill.)

Percy was thinking. "Today's April 31st. You said that the demon's collecting on his bargains in ten years?"

"Yeah, why?" Dean said, though the look on his face told Percy he was slowly catching on.

"Ten years, and two days." Percy said. "That's Sam's birthday."

A moment passed, then another.

Neither Percy nor Dean said anything.

The silence stretched on.

Eventually, it got to the point where Percy felt he had to say something. He never was really any good with the awkward silences.

"Demon deals...they're always for ten years, right?"

A dark look crossed Dean's face. "Usually." He said. "Exceptions are made."

Percy almost took a step back. Dean usually seemed so lighthearted, but this felt dark, and terrifying. This felt like Tartarus.

But he didn't. He'd been through worse, and a bad mood of Dean's was, ultimately, nothing. Bad history aside.

He didn't ask what the exceptions were.

Percy stood still for a moment, letting Dean stew in his bad mood while he ran through all of the things that could possibly happen that'd lead to a demon deal.

And not any demon, no. One of the biggest and baddest, ol' Yellow-Eyes himself. The one who had tried to kill him Halloween night three years ago. The one he'd been hunting down after Annabeth was taken.

And now it was traipsing about in the past, getting up to some serious shit.

And the thing was, thanks to Dean, he knew it wasn't time-travelling. Which mean whatever it was trying to do had been meticulously planned out for a long time. And when you take demons' flighty, lying, sadistic nature into account, and how rare it was for them to actually organize...

He took a moment to share his train of thought with Dean.

"Fuck." Was all he said, essentially mirroring the circles Percy's brain was running in now.

"What do we do?" Percy asked. "I mean, some heavy shit's being readied for, here. I'm like ninety percent sure this is what Feathers sent us to do. And really, all we have right now that'd work is my sword."

"Oh." Dean said. He was quiet for a moment, then, "I thought you were just really into Medieval roleplaying."

"Ancient Greek." Percy muttered. "It's more about the material, anyways. Celestial Bronze. I don't know how well it works on angels, but it definitely messes up demons. I got one of Azazel's hands."

Dean shook his head. "Yeah, there isn't really much we can do to go against him right now...not without killing him."

"But can we not kill him now?" Percy said. "Like, we could, but that would be opening a really big can of timey-wimey worms. Do you really wanna risk it?"

"If it stops the demon? It would save my mother." Dean didn't hesitate. "Yes."

Percy nodded. "Alright then." He said.

They had a plan, now. It was small, but it was definitely a start, and that relieved some of the stress that had been building up. For all of their floundering about in 1973, they now had a definite direction.

Kill the demon.

Well, until Dean opened his mouth again. "How the hell –and I don't say that lightly –are we supposed to track down a demon?"

Percy grinned. "What, did you think I sat on my ass for these last three years? Please. I'm basically an expert in demon-tracking."

Dean looked slightly mollified.

"And besides, it's not like we're totally shooting in the dark, here." Percy said. "We know that it's Azazel. We can, I dunno, summon him or something."

Percy leaned against the Impala, casting a quick glance at Mary, who was still dead asleep inside the car.

Dean seemed to decide that the conversation was over, getting in the car, but Percy wasn't quite finished with him.

He got in the passenger side, and as Dean started up the car, he started to speak again. "I know of your vendetta against "witches," Dean. You gonna kill me if I start using esoteric arcane shit?"

Dean made a face like he really didn't like being called out, and started pulling out of the Whitshire's driveway. "Dude, do what you gotta do. I don't care. But I want you to save my mom."

"Winchesters." Percy muttered. "Always against stuff until it suits you." He knew it was an incredibly cheap shot, but nevertheless he couldn't help but take it.

Dean gave him a look that warned him to shut up.

Percy did. He'd made his point anyways, there was no reason to antagonize Dean further.

Dean started driving, having cleared all of Beth's property, and it was then that Percy realized he didn't know where they were headed. "Um," he started, all assertiveness from moments prior essentially gone. "What are we going to do about-" He made an aborted gesture to the woman in the back seat.

Dean's eye twitched. "We have to keep an eye on her until the demon comes for her."

"No doubts her parents are going to love that." Percy said under his breath. "Wait. I thought we were gonna try to summon it?"

"You're telling me," Dean snarked. "That after all that, you haven't put the pieces together?" He took a sharp left, and Percy was thrown into the window.

He didn't bother answering.

"Think about it," Dean carried on. "Ten years until my brother's birthday. Demon deals last for ten years. C'mon, man, it shouldn't be so surprising. And on top of that, we know it's not just any demon, but Yellow-Eyes himself, the single demon responsible for ruining my family's entire life. I know he's coming."

The worst part was, Dean wasn't entirely wrong, either.

Still, Percy would have preferred to be actively doing something, rather than sitting around waiting for the demon to show up. Plus, that put the power on the demon's end, seeing as he'd essentially be able to dictate the "when," if not the "where," of his arrival.

.:~*~:.

Three hours later, and Mary was starting to wake up. Percy thought that was actually pretty good, for a last-second Misting, but he couldn't exactly put her back under for fear of damaging her mind.

It sucked, and the situation she was waking up into wasn't what Percy had been hoping for. He thought Dean would have let him put Mary back in her bed and that would be that, but instead now they had to figure out a way to take care of Mary without her flipping out.

Fun.

"Chase?" Mary questioned, eyes fluttering open.

Dean had left about five minutes ago on a snack run. Convenient timing, that.

"Um, hi." Percy waved awkwardly at her.

"Where am I?" She asked slowly.

"How much do you remember?" Percy asked, trying to divert her. She was a hunter, hopefully she'd understand.

Mary shook her head slowly. "Not...much. I..." She took a deep breath, and started again. "I remember, we were at the farm, and I heard you two talking about a demon. But...I don't remember any specifics. I don't remember how I got here, wherever here...is..."

Wow. Even then, that was more than Percy had been expecting. He hadn't exactly been acting subtle. He'd have thought the entire day would have been lost, but hell, Mary still almost-kind-of-sorta remembered what she'd heard.

The Winchesters really were made of something else. If it wasn't for their situation, Percy would have applauded her.

Mary's eyes widened as she took everything in, and her breathing got shallower. Before she could start to panic, Percy started talking, loud at first to get her attention. "It's okay, Mary. You're just back at our room. We didn't want to leave you at Beth's, in case you weren't doing too hot...plus, I didn't want to dump too much on a grieving wife."

Percy hoped she wouldn't catch that he'd left out what had actually happened to her.

Thankfully, she seemed caught up in something else, and was muttering to herself.

Percy caught the words "two guys" and "room."

"You two...you're...like that?" Mary asked.

Oh. Oh.

Percy flushed red. "No, you've got it wrong. We're..." He fished for an excuse. "We're cousins." He finished lamely.

Mary arched an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Listen, I know there's a lot of stigmatism around that thing, but I'm not going to judge you." She said. "Especially considering you're hunters. I know it can get hard."

Percy kept shaking his head. "Really, I swear. You've got it wrong. But, um...Thanks for not being a homophobe?"

Mary rolled her eyes. "You're about as eloquent as a beached whale. Where's your...cousin?" Her voice was practically dripping in skepticism.

"He went out for food," Percy said.

Just then, there was a knock on the door, surprising Percy.

"I didn't expect him to be back so fast." He muttered. "It's not exactly like there's any 7-Eleven's nearby."

But when Percy opened the door, it wasn't Dean standing there, but John Winchester, wearing a sleazy grin. Behind him was Deanna, standing stock-still, wearing an unnaturally blank expression.

"Mary? That you?" He called into the room, looking more than a little inebriated.

"What in the hell?" Percy muttered.

John made a move to enter the room but Percy blocked him, pushing him back out. Something very clearly wasn't right, here.

Another red flag raised when Deanna made no move to stop John, even though the Campbells had always seemed overly protective of their daughter.

Granted, Percy had only met and interacted with them once, but once had been enough.

"Let me see my girlfriend!" John demanded. Percy blocked him again when he tried to sidestep, and shook his head.

"John. John, listen to me." Percy tried reasoning. "You don't seem to be in your right mind."

John was having none of it, making a myriad of unpleasant faces, trying still to push Percy out of the way.

Deanna still wasn't moving.

Something was seriously wrong here, and now Percy was torn.

The goal...not to sound completely unempathetic, but the goal here was to protect Mary. The goal was to get rid of the demon. But what was Percy supposed to do about John?

Percy tried one more time to gently push him out of the doorway, but Mary finally caught sight of her boyfriend.

"John? John, is that you?" She called out. Percy face-palmed.

John brushed past Percy, practically storming into the room, and Deann breezed by dazedly, leaving Percy at the open door.

He shut it, instincts screaming that it was a bad idea.

"Mom?" Mary asked.

John slowly pulled out a knife, but he never moved closer to Mary. Or Deanna, for that matter. He just stood there menacingly.

"John, what are you doing? Mom, what's going on?" Mary asked helplessly.

Right. Because she'd only just woken up. Hell, she must be feeling numb. That tended to happen to people who'd been Misted. Well, as least as heavily as she had been.

"Yeah, I kinda wanna be clued in here, too." Percy added. "And, since John seems to be a bit out of it, Deanna, would you mind telling me what the hell you're doing?"

Deanna also pulled out a knife, one of the ones Percy had seen her using in the kitchen to make last night's dinner.

Fuck.

John started moving, in nearly a blur of motion, and without a second thought, Percy leapt forward, intent on saving Mary from the very worst of the blow—

But it never came.

Mary was fine, but...

Percy watched in horror as John stabbed himself in the leg, blade going nearly all the way through. He yanked it out with brutal force, causing maybe more damage than it had on the way in.

Behind him, Deanna did the same, albeit robotically, like a puppet on strings. Very violent strings.

Mary cried out, reaching for her mother, for John, Percy didn't know...he tossed her on the bed, as far away from them as possible.

John smiled –how he did, Percy didn't know –and started talking.

"Mary, dearest."

Cold rushed over Percy, and with a start, he realized, John was possessed.

Then an unseen force flung him against the back wall of the motel room, hard enough to leave him seeing stars. He tried to move, but he couldn't. He was stuck on the wall, pinned like a god-damned butterfly.

Then John's eyes flickered black, solid like somebody had gouged out his eyes and replaced them with obsidian spheres, and Percy couldn't have moved even if the demon's power let him down, because.

Dean was wrong, it wasn't the Yellow Eyed Demon, Azazel—he wasn't after Mary, not right now anyways, he was lost to the wind and instead there was some generic bottom-feeding scum standing right in front of them, and Percy'd been too stupid to even think of putting up precautions, because he, in all his hubris, had thought there would be no way any demon would come for them on day two.

Well. It really got the drop on them, didn't it.

Mary was standing up, now, still looking shaky and weak but nonetheless trying to rail against the demon.

Deanna was bleeding out, too much more blood loss and she'd be dead, the only thing keeping her standing the demon's power over her.

What Percy wouldn't give for holy water right now.

"What the hell-" Mary floundered. "Let them go!"

The demon possessing John chuckled. "Hell is accurate, Mary, dearest. But, uh...as for letting them go-" He gave a wry smile and shook his head, looking almost apologetic. "No can do."

Percy strained, trying desperately to peel himself off the wall, but he couldn't move. "Mary..." He tried to speak, but the demon shot him a look, and his mouth was glued shut.

Mary was trembling now, tears gathering in her eyes as she watched the injuries on her mom leach their bodies of color. "Exorcizamus te..." She started.

The demon's eyes snapped back to her. "Come on, now, none of that."

Still holding the knife, he advanced on Mary, walking smoothly like he didn't have a giant hole through his thigh.

He pointed it delicately in front of her face, using his free hand to tilt her chin up so she was forced to look at him.

Mary was still mumbling an exorcism, but the demon seemed largely unaffected aside from a few jerky winces.

He brought the knife up, but before he could move the door unlocked and Dean walked in, questionable-looking chips in his hand.

Despite the severity of the situation, Percy couldn't help but judge his flavor choice.

"What the..." Dean asked.

The demon kicked Mary in the knees, dropping her to the ground, and turned to Dean, eyes still a horrifying black.

Dean was smart, though. He dropped the chips, and, seeing Riptide lying on the table, he grabbed it and uncapped it. He looked a little unsteady with the sword in his hand, but he took a swing at John anyways.

Percy wanted to facepalm. It's not a baseball bat, you oaf. Don't hold it like that.

Dean's eyes flicked to Percy, still stuck on the wall, and the demon took advantage of his distraction to step far too close into his space, nearly taking a chunk of shoulder with its knife.

Dean retaliated, swiping again with Percy's sword (Oh, Percy was cringing so hard inside right now) and getting it stuck in the bone of John's forearm.

It lit up from the inside like cheap movie effects, like Azazel's hand had, and John's arm hung limply at his side, gaining a slow sheen of red.

The demon hissed, and Dean yanked the sword out of his arm.

With its concentration broken, Percy dropped to the floor, and he quickly ran up to Dean, grabbing his sword maybe a bit harshly. He pointed to Mary, who was laying on the floor, clutching her leg which was bent just a bit too far back to really be okay.

While Percy was busy with the demon, Dean went over and sat Mary on the bed, helping her with her leg and keeping and eye on Deanna.

The demon clearly didn't know what to make of two able-bodied hunters and one that could still fire a gun from her spot on the floor.

It did what any cornered animal would do, and it lunged forwards, hissing like a deranged cat.

Thank god for Annabeth –compared to her, fighting this demon was like pushing over a baby. Sure, the demon was wild, but that was all it had.

Well, until Percy got in a slice at its neck.

John's entire body lit up and died, collapsing to the floor. Deanna followed suit a moment later, deathly pale.

Dean stopped what he was doing, stopped helping Mary, and looked at Percy wide eyes.

It took him a moment to catch on, but when he did...Percy felt a wave of horror crest over him.

He'd just killed Dean's father.

Mary gave a strangled cry and leapt off the bed, twisting her leg badly as she landed. Her face twisted up in pain but she kept crawling towards John's body, pushing forwards.

Percy stood stock-still, not really knowing what to do.

Mary cradled John's head in her arms, tears streaming down her face. "John..." She whispered.

Her hands were slowly getting stained red.

Dean was still by the foot of the bed, staring at the scene before him. "It's not supposed to be like this." He mumbled, watching them. "It wasn't supposed to happen this way."

Percy remembered what Sam had told him about his life, way back when they were together. Looking back on it, Sam probably lied about some of the more important things, not that Percy blamed him for it –but Sam always talked about his dad.

Never really in a positive light, but Sam wasn't making up his memories.

Percy remembered all the faces he made, various depictions of disgust, annoyance, humor. Sam's father had always been alive.

But John Winchester was dead.

Mary kept crying, lost in her own little world of grief and suffering.

Slow applause sounded through the room, echoing strangely with Mary's sobbing.

Samuel stepped out of the corner, wearing an out-of-place grin, eyes a nauseating shade of yellow.

Behind Percy, Dean cursed, and he had to agree with the sentiment. Could they not catch a break?

"Mary, Mary, Mary." He sing-songed. "Looks like somebody has a few issues in her love-life."

Mary looked up, face contorting into a mask of rage. "This is your fault, isn't it." She practically growled.

Yellow-Eyes shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not." He grinned. "Oh, who are we kidding. Of course it was me. You'd be surprised how easy it is to get other demons to do your dirty work." He looked down at John's corpse and sneered.

Mary reached for John's dropped knife. "I swear to God, I'll kill you."

"Oh, let's not get nasty." Yellow-Eyes sat down next to Mary, forcing her to lean back, twisting her injured leg further.

"Now look, we both said, or did-" He gave an obliging nod. "-Some things we regret. Let's...kiss and make up."

Percy cringed at the thought, especially since the demon was wearing her father.

"Tell ya what, I'll have lover-boy here brought back. Breathing."

Mary looked back at John, and then to Deanna, both lying still.

"My...my mother, too?" Mary asked.

The demon grinned predatorily. "Nope, sorry doll. That's not on the table. But hey, think about it. You could be done with hunting forever! White picket fence, station wagon, two-point-five kids, everything. No more monsters, promise."

Mary looked scarily tempted.

"Mary..." Dean said.

Percy was so close to warning her off, beheading the goddamn demon now and leaving Mary surrounded with the corpses of her family around her.

It sounded horrible, but...the demon would be dead. Annabeth would be safe, and whatever pile of shit that Azazel was cooking up would be completely stopped in its tracks.

He couldn't do it.

"What's the cost, huh?" Mary demanded. "Just my soul?"

"Oh, no, you can keep your soul." Yellow-Eyes waved her off. "I just need permission."

"For what?" Mary demanded.

"I need to swing by your house in ten years. That's all."

"For what?" She screeched.

"Relax." The demon said. "'S long as I'm not interrupted, nobody gets hurt. I promise." He paused, letting it sink in. "Or you can spend the rest of your life desperate and alone."

Mary sagged down, looking entirely defeated.

Percy knew what she was going to say before her mouth moved.

"Chase, Dean...I'm sorry."

Dean didn't say anything, his face stony.

"I accept."

Percy turned away. He didn't want to look, to see everything spiraling into a wreck.

Because, when it came down to it, they couldn't stop it. They couldn't stop the demon deal, they couldn't stop Azazel, they just...didn't do anything.

John coughed twice, and when Percy turned around, the demon was gone.

A/N: i have no fucken words