It wasn't fair, Chuck thought. He'd made this world! He'd shaped it with his own hands, brought it to life, created everything that walked or crawled or flew or swam across its surface. And what thanks did he get? Destroyed by his own creations. His characters had turned on him and taken control of the story. He'd thought they would kill him - after all, it's what he had tried to do to them. But no! Instead, that abomination sucked out all his power, power he'd spent billions of years building up, and just left him! Left him to live out a human life, abandoned, forgotten, a walk-on character in his own story.

What was he supposed to do now? How did they live, these humans? He would have to get a job. But what could he do? There weren't very many openings for ex-gods out there. If only he had somewhere to go, someone to teach him how to be -

Someone sat down next to him. Chuck was about to tell whoever it was to get lost when the someone said, "Hey, Dad."

He looked over. Lucifer was sitting there, looking a bit pale and drawn, but it was him, in the flesh. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, you know . . . Jack, that ungrateful little bastard, sucked out my power and left me here."

"Yeah, me too. Can you believe it?"

"Just turned his back on me, just like that! I didn't even do anything!"

Chuck gave his son a suspicious look. "I find that hard to believe."

"Weeeeellllll . . . I might've . . . expressed some dissatisfaction with the new regime."

"Mm hmm."

"My own son, turned against me!"

"Yeah? How's it feel?" Chuck turned and stared at him. "Maybe now you have some idea what you put me through all those ages ago. I suppose it's expecting too much to think that you might actually feel shame for what you did."

Lucifer slumped down on the bench. "Is that what this is? This gnawing feeling deep inside the pit of my stomach? I thought it was hunger."

"Could be. I haven't got the hang of the whole eating thing yet."

"I'm trying to avoid it. It's gross. It's messy and unnecessary. And let's not even talk about what happens afterwards!"

They sat for a moment. Lucifer's stomach rumbled loudly. "Well," he said, "better go find something to eat. However that works."

"Where are we going to go? We've got no money, no car, no place to live, no friends . . ."

Lucifer smiled. "I know where we can go."

"Oh, hell, no!" Dean looked from the ex-God to the ex-Devil and didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "You lost your powers, have nowhere to go, and you come here? Seriously?"

Chuck looked at him with pleading in his eyes. "You could have killed me. But you decided to be merciful and let me live. Won't you help us now?"

"Okay, maybe you. But what about him?" He glared at Lucifer, who gave him an innocent look. "No. Just . . . no."

"Aw, c'mon! It's your fault, you know."

"How is it our fault?" asked Sam.

"You're the ones who raised the kid! You turned him against me!"

"No, you did that," Dean insisted. "He saw perfectly well what you were. He could have killed you, too,, but he decided it would be better to let you live and learn from your mistakes."

"We don't know how to be human," said Chuck. "It's a lot more complicated than I thought it would be. Can you help us?"

Sam looked at Dean, whose expression was unreadable. "Can you give us a minute?"

They stepped through the doorway, just far enough not to be heard.

"What are you doing?" Dean demanded. "We can't let them stay here!"

"And why not?"

"Because it's Lucifer! You still wake up screaming from all the crap he put you through. I won't let him hurt you again."

"I don't think he can hurt anyone anymore. He doesn't have his powers."

"He says things. And does things. No. I don't want him here."

"I just think we should give him a chance. A chance to prove that he can do something right. If he screws up, you can throw him out, but at least let him try."

"You're serious about this."

"It's like Chuck said: we're merciful. Let's show them some mercy, show them the best of what human beings can be. Can you do that? Can you at least try?"

The puppy-dog eyes shouldn't have still worked after all these years. They should have looked ridiculous in the face of someone who was practically middle-aged. But just like always, they melted Dean's heart.

"Okay, fine. But there's gonna be some ground rules!"

It turned out to be a big adjustment all around.

"I don't believe this," Dean said, pacing back and forth at the head of the map table. "I can't believe you guys have only been here a week and we already have to go over the rules again."

"Don't look at me," said Lucifer. "Dad's the one who almost burned the kitchen down."

"It was an accident!" Chuck insisted. "I didn't mean for the eggs to catch fire. I guess I just had the flame up too high."

"Would it kill you to ask for help?" asked Dean.

"All right, that's enough of that." Sam stepped between his brother and the newly-minted humans. "We're going to have a calm and rational conversation about the importance of following the rules."

Lucifer made a rude noise with his lips. "Rules suck."

"No, they're there to keep you safe. Like the rule about not going into the storerooms. There's a lot of dangerous stuff down there, and you could inadvertently release something nasty that could hurt you or someone else."

"I just wanted to see all the cool stuff you were hiding in the basement!"

"That ball you were playing with? If you'd dropped it, it could have meant the end of the world. No joke. Doors are locked for a reason. Stay out."

"Okay, fine. But what else am I supposed to do? You won't let me go anywhere in this place!"

"Because it's full of stuff that could kill you!"

"The TV room? What's in there that can kill me?"

"Me!" said Dean. "Only authorized access to the Dean Cave!"

"Oh, c'mon! You're keeping all the cool stuff to yourself! That's not being a good host!"

"I might be more inclined to let you in if you didn't take hour-long showers and use up all the hot water! This plumbing is sixty years old, you know. It only has a limited supply of hot water, and we all need to use it. So cut down on the shower time."

"I do not take an hour!"

"Dude, I timed you. I stood outside the door and timed you. You need to cut back to ten minutes."

"Ten minutes? That's not even time to wash my hair!"

"Even Sammy can manage his hair in ten minutes."

Sam gave his brother the side-eye, but said nothing.

"Ten minutes. That's the deal. Otherwise, we'll make you take sponge baths in the sink."

"All right, fine. Ten minutes. Sure we can't make it fifteen?"

Dean glared at him.

"Ten is good."

"I'm sorry about the kitchen," Chuck said. "I'm new to this whole cooking thing."

"Yeah, that's fine. Any time you want lessons, one of us will help you. We'll teach you a few easy dishes so you won't starve to death." Sam dropped into the chair at the head of the table. "It was a simple mistake anyone could have made."

"It used to be so easy. All I had to do was think of something, and bam! It came into being, just like that. I didn't have to do everything myself."

"Welcome to being human," said Dean. "Sure, some things are hard, but they're worth doing. As Dad used to say, they call it work for a reason. You'll get the hang of it."

"Yeah, and how long does that take?" Lucifer asked. "We're not immortal anymore, you know. Haven't got all the time in the world anymore. How do you people get everything done?"

"Priorities. Time management. Learning which things are important and need to be done right away, and which can wait a little longer. You'll get that too. Most people get eighteen years to practice being human before they're unleashed on the world. Obviously, we can't take eighteen years to teach you everything, so just the basics. Maybe . . . five or six months."

"Six months? Are you kidding me? That's all we get? We'll never learn it all in six months!"

There was a jingling of metal, and a medium-sized ball of fur flopped his way into the room and settled at Dean's feet. He reached down and gave the dog a pat.

"Hey, buddy. You need to go out?"

"That's the dog I took away from you, isn't it?" said Chuck. "Sorry about that."

"We're sort of temporarily homing him," Sam told them, "until we can find who he actually belongs to. In the meantime, we got him some temporary tags. He's fine."

"I'll be back," said Dean, unfurling a leash that was sitting at the bottom of the stairs and clipping it to the dog's collar. "Gotta go walkies."

"Okay, I guess that's it." Sam got up out of his chair. "You guys can do whatever you want, as long as you stay out of the restricted areas. Dinner will be ready at five."

"Can I watch Netflix in your room?" Lucifer asked him. "There's this show I just started watching."

"Fine. Just don't touch my stuff." He left in the direction of the library, and Lucifer grinned.

"I am totally touching his stuff," he said to Chuck.

Someone was in the Dean Cave. At least, Dean hoped it was a someone. It could have been something, but with all the wards around the bunker, he didn't see any way how something could have gotten in.

"Aw, c'mon! I never said that!" a voice called out.

Mystery solved. Dean went inside and found Lucifer in one of the leather recliners, watching some religious documentary.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Oh, hey, Deano. Would you look at this garbage? Propaganda, that's what it is! All the lies they're telling about me."

"Dude, out. Now."

"Really? You won't let me watch my show?"

"If you hate it so much, why are you watching it?"

"Oh, this isn't my show. This is just something I turned on while I was flipping around trying to find my show. I'll pull that one up when this is over."

"You have a TV in your room."

"A tiny little ten-inch screen! I can barely see it from across the room! Be a pal, huh?"

An image of two angels in battle flashed on the screen. Lucifer snorted. "Why do they always make Mikey look like a girl? Look at that hair! And the robes? We never wore robes like that!"

Dean shook his head. "You're too much. Come on now. Out."

"Why you gotta be so mean, bro?"

"Dude, you don't pull your weight around here. Your dad at least tries. You just sit on your ass watching TV and complaining about everything! I give you chores to do and you 'forget.' We did you a solid taking you in, after all the crap you've pulled over the years. Straighten up or hit the road."

He picked up the remote and hit the power button. "Go watch your show in your own room."

"All right." Lucifer got up, grunting loudly, and headed for the door. On his way there, he tossed over his shoulder, "You're really not being a good host."

"You're not being a good houseguest! I'll meet you halfway, but you gotta do your share of the work."

"Yeah, yeah. Later."

Once he was gone, Dean vacuumed the crumbs out of the recliner (couldn't the guy eat one meal without getting stuff everywhere?) and then sat down in the opposite seat, sighing deeply. This couldn't go on. Something had to change. Now.

And he would be damned (again) if it would be him.

Maybe what he should do was pray about it.

He didn't fall to his knees and clasp his hands in front of him. That was for kids. He just talked to him, as if he were right in the room.

"Cas, I don't know if you can hear me. I know you're busy in Heaven, doing important angel stuff, but I kinda need your help. Your dad and your brother are here, and they're trying to learn how to be human - well, Chuck is trying. Lucifer is just taking up space. Anyway, I need some guidance here. It takes years to learn how to be a proper human. It took you four or five years before you really understood how it was for us. I don't think we have that kind of time here. Please give me a sign that I'm doing the right thing. Anything. Cause I'm drowning here, man. I don't know how much longer I can take this. Please help me, Cas. I need you."

Dean didn't expect an answer right away. Cas was busy; it might be a while before he could start answering prayers. To pass the time, and keep himself distracted, he turned on the TV.

It was the end of the show about angels and the Devil. Some professor type was speaking.

"The Bible says that all things exist to the glory of God," he said. "We as human beings must strive to be examples of God's love in the world."

Maybe he and Sam needed to be better examples. He had to admit, he hadn't been very nice to the former Devil. Kicking him out of the Dean Cave for no reason other than he didn't want to deal with the guy.

He wasn't about to embrace him with open arms. But maybe he could make more of an effort to reach out to him.

"What would Jack do?" he said to himself.

The door to Lucifer's room was slightly ajar. Dean tapped on it before he stuck his head in the room. "You busy?"

Lucifer hit pause on his remote. "Nope," he said. "Just watching my show."

"What are you watching?" Then Dean saw the logo. "Figures. Because it's all about you. Well, sort of you."

"Yeah. It's like, this guy is me, only better. Everybody likes him. Maybe it's the accent. D'you think I should try a British accent?" he asked, putting one on.

"No." And because that sounded too harsh, Dean amended, "It doesn't suit you."

"Okay. I'll just be me. I'd say have a seat, but . . ." He gestured to the chair, which was buried in cast-off clothing and dirty dishes.

Dean noticed the remains of something familiar on one plate. "So you're the one who finished off the pie!"

"I know, I know - 'All your pie are belong to Dean' - but it was gooood! Share the wealth, man."

"Dude, ask. I'll share if you ask. You can't just take what you want."

"Why not? It's what I've always done. If you wait around for permission, you'll never get anywhere."

Dean started sorting through the pile of debris. "These go in the hamper," he said, "wherever that is."

"You mean that big wooden basket thing?"

"Yeah. Where is it?"

"I didn't know what it was. I tossed it out in the hall."

Dean started to say something before checking himself. "I'll find it," he said. "I'll put these in the laundry for you - this time. From now on, you're responsible for your own. These dishes need to go to the kitchen. We don't have a dishwasher, so you'll have to wash them yourself."

"Seriously?" Lucifer looked at him incredulously. "Scullery work?"

"I do my own. Sam does his. Even Chuck helps out now and then. You've got to pull your weight around here. Once you leave here, you're not gonna have folks doing things for you - and no fair conning them into it!"

"Aw, man!"

"You want to be a productive member of society, you need to learn to do things for yourself. It's not that hard. If you don't know how to do something, we'll show you. You get two freebies. Third time, you're on your own."

"Yeah, okay, I got it."

"I'm gonna try to be more patient with you . . . but dude, it's hard. It's hard to forget everything you've done to us. We'll never fully trust you, you know. But we're trying. All we ask is that you do the same."

About a week before Christmas, Dean got a call. He was on the phone for a while, and when he came back, he gave Sam a look.

"That was Harry Johanssen. Remember him?"

Sam's brow furrowed. "His dad was Erik Johanssen? Lived in Minnesota? Dad's friend?"

"Yeah. Harry needs our help with a case."

"In Minnesota?"

"No, in New York State. Sounds like a big job. Might take a few days."

Sam looked over his shoulder at the ex-celestial beings. "Does he need both of us?"

"Hey!" Lucifer protested. "We don't need a babysitter!"

"Maybe we could call someone," said Dean. "Claire's in the neighborhood. She could come hang out for a few days."

"I have a better idea." Sam drew him aside and whispered instructions.

Why do I get Lucifer? Dean thought to himself. He approached the former ruler of Hell and tried to look casual.

"Hey, Luce," he said. "So, we've decided. Sam and I are going away for a few days, and we'll let both of you stay here till we get back."

"You mean you were thinking about kicking us out?"

"Let's just say several options came up, and we settled on the best one. Now, you still have to obey the rules: stay out of the locked rooms, don't burn the place down, that kind of thing. We'd appreciate it if you'd keep an eye on your dad, make sure he's okay. We'll leave you the number of a friend of ours, in case you have any problems."

"And what do I get out of this?"

"You get full access to the Dean Cave."

Lucifer wasn't dumb. "What's the catch?"

"Don't sit in my chair, don't eat all the food in the fridge, don't beat my high score on Space Invaders. Otherwise, the lace is yours. Watch whatever you want. Oh, and don't forget to feed the dog. He gets half a can mixed with some of the dry, twice a day. And take him outside when he needs to go!"

"All right, all right! I got this."

"We'll be back before Christmas. Wait for us to do the decorating."

"Gotcha."

"Don't make me regret this, man."

"You can count on me, chief." Lucifer tossed off a mock salute.

Sam, meanwhile, approached Chuck.

"So, we're gonna be away for a few days."

"Gotta go to work." The ex-God smiled. "Have fun. I know we'd just be in the way."

"You can help in a different way. See, Dean doesn't trust Lucifer in this place alone. Well, without us, anyway. So I need you to keep an eye on him and make sure he follows the rules. All of them."

Chuck nodded. "I can do that."

"In return, I'll give you the password to my delivery app. You go online, put in what you want, and just hit Send. It's all paid for, tip and all. They come to the end of the road, so just meet them there. Get whatever you want; it's on me."

"Really? Thanks."

"And make sure the dog is fed and walked. I think we gave that job to Lucifer, but he might 'forget'. Just see that it's done by someone."

"Will do."

"And this," he said, "is the number of our friend Jody. If you have any problems, give her a call. She'll know what to do."

"Okay. I can do this. See you in a few days."

They were pulling away in the Impala when Sam asked, "So did you call Jody and give her a heads-up about our situation?"

There was an uncomfortable silence from Dean. "I was supposed to do that?"

"Unbelievable." Sam made the call himself, wondering if any of them would survive this week.