Norway was a new one, that was for sure. Standing on the edge of a cliff, Grace found herself staring into the swirling abyss of a crashing ocean below. It was ruggedly beautiful, but she couldn't understand why the spell had brought her here. She'd been trying to track down God himself to help with the Darkness, but the summoning spells she found were all for archangels at the most. So she melded them together, bending the rules of some and completely flouting the conventions of others. And she'd ended up here, on a windswept cliff in Norway, wishing she'd brought a jacket.

A man sat in a fishing chair, typing away on his laptop. She was amazed that there was WiFi here at all, but she shrugged, thinking he looked less than intimidating. "Excuse me? Can you tell me where I am?" Thinking she'd pretend she was hiking and had gotten lost, she approached the man carefully, trying not to startle him.

He stopped typing, closing his laptop before jumping up to shake her hand. "Grace, hi. I was wondering if you'd manage to find me."

"Sorry, what? How do you know my name?"

"You were trying to find God, right? Call me Chuck."

She stared at him, perplexed. "Wait, you're…" Not at all what I expected.

"Yep. The very same."

"Umm… hi. Thanks for… creating me, and stuff. We kind of need your help."

Chuck sighed, nodding and telling her that, "It's about my sister, I know. I've known for a while. You're not the only one who's been praying."

"The Darkness is your sister?"

"Darkness and light, yin and yang. There's a balance to the universe, and we're it."

"So you know she's bent on destroying everything, then. And you know we've been trying to find you, to get you to help for ages now," Grace reasoned, crossing her arms. His face gave it all away. "You're afraid of what it would mean to confront her, or you'd have come to stop her already. The only reason you haven't faced her is because you don't want to have to think of what that means. We," Grace took a deep breath, deciding against risking being smited, "we've been looking for you. Everyone - we need your help. If there's even a shadow of a chance that you'll win against her, we need you to take it. You're a writer, I get it. You're not a fighter, not any more. No more Old Testament stuff. But we need you, just this once, because your world here, it's your favorite story, isn't it? That's why you're hidden here, not in some other universe. It's in danger."

Chuck smiled, looking her up and down. "You know, it's nice to finally meet you in person. I wrote you, I know what you look like, I know how you act, but it's so much cooler in person. It's like seeing your novel turned into a movie, but better."

"Chuck, we need your help," Grace pleaded, getting fed up with him refusing to listen. "We need you to step in, just once, and then you can go back to writing for good. You locked her away once, you can do it again. Yes, there's a chance she wins, but without you, she's guaranteed to win We've got less than no chance without you."

"I'll think about it," he offered. "But you're going to need to go soon."

"Why?"

"You're going to get a phone call in about ten seconds that you'll want to answer."

Sure enough, her phone rang from an unsaved number. "Hello?"

"Hi, this is Nurse Carver at the Grangeville Regional Hospital. I've got two young men here who came in with some serious wounds and not a lot of information on them. You're both of their emergency contacts."

Looking to Chuck, Grace could barely manage to ask, "What happened?"

"One of them was shot in a hunting accident, and the other, he came in talking about werewolves. He ended up overdosing, which is what we think caused the hallucinations. He's awake now, if you'd like to talk to him, but he's not making a lot of sense yet."

"Please." The line beeped twice, Dean's gravelly voice picking up as she left Chuck, pacing closer to the ocean.

"Gracie, don't be mad at me. I had to do it to save Sam."

"I know. You wouldn't have done something that foolish otherwise. Where are you guys?"

"Grangeville, Idaho. Still on that werewolf case we were working when we left the bunker. Where are you? It sounds like you're outside."

"Norway, at least I think. Long story, but I found someone who can hopefully help us with the Darkness. I've got to figure out how to get home, but I'll be there as soon as I can."

Chuck cleared his throat, Grace locking eyes with him again. "Maybe I can help." He snapped his fingers, Grace suddenly standing in front of the hospital.

"Umm, I'm on my way in now. We've got a lot to talk about." She rushed in, stopping to register at the visitors' desk and pretending like she had just driven up. Five minutes later, she was headed up to the boys' room, thanking Nurse Carver profusely before heading in. Dean smiled, not asking any questions as she pulled a chair up beside him. "What the hell, WInchester?" She took his hand, careful of the IV drip.

"Werewolves suck," he summed up, making Grace smile.

"No more reaper deals. No more doing anything dumb like that, okay? When you and Sam are cleared to go, I'm taking you back to the bunker, and you're getting some proper rest before you do anything else. I know you have to get out there, but you also need to spend a couple days with me. A couple days where we're both at least pretending things are normal again."

And that's what she got. When the boys were released, she insisted on driving them home, much to Dean's chagrin. He had no problem with her driving, but driving his car… he hardly let Sam touch the Impala, and he was the one who had taught him how to drive. But they made their way uneventfully back to Kansas. They stopped in a couple of hotels, Grace insisting that the boys do nothing but rest. When they got back to the bunker, they were practically itching for something to do.

So Grace sent Sam to do laundry and Dean to go grocery shopping while she caught up on emails and phone calls. No cases for them for a little while. As she was on the phone with a hunter in Arizona, a message popped up in her inbox.

Give me a little while. I'm coming to help. - Chuck

At first she couldn't believe it, but then she realized that there was no way it couldn't be Chuck. He was glued to his laptop most of the time, and he was all-powerful, after all. So she wrote back, as if she was emailing anyone else.

Let the boys rest for a bit. They need it. Just a few days so they can heal a little.

Alright, but they need to be ready.

"Hey, they didn't have any good ground coffee, so I hope beans are fine," Dean called, coming down the stairs with armfuls of shopping bags.

"Did you bring everything in in one trip?" Grace asked, shutting her laptop and grabbing a bunch of the bags.

"Always do," he winked. Grace shook her head, just glad to have both of the boys under the same roof again.