"Well, that went down like a lead balloon." Sam said as he and his brother left Blue Earth, Minnesota where people had learned that he and Dean had been right about Leah far too late for it to have done all that much good. Next time, they would be more inclined to listen to a pair of...er, random men they'd never met before when they came in and told them that one of their number who'd sounded accurate wasn't a Prophet of the Lord. But, it was too late for it to have done any good now.

People were dead, and a small town was left facing what they had done to those people out of a desire for paradise. The townspeople had all been tricked by the Whore of Babylon who'd been occupying Leah Gideon's body until Dean had killed her, proving himself to be a "Servant of Heaven" and opening up a can of worms Sam didn't want to face at the moment. The end to their little charade was approaching, and they both could see it. One day soon, they'd both have to look at each-other and face reality.

"Let's just get out of here Sammy." Dean groaned, just wanting to leave this place and every issue it had brought up behind him.

All too soon, they were back on the road, neither of them looking at the other.

"It's a pity those three drank that store already." Dean said, breaking the silence. "I could sure use a drink right about now."

"Yeah." Sam sighed from where he was staring out the window at nothing.

Not knowing what else to do, especially after all this, Dean continued driving towards Bobby's. Even though he was small, human, and limited, Bobby was also safe, familiar, and able to come up with things Michael would never have thought of even if he were given Aeons to sort out the problem.

Perhaps, it had something to do with the fact that humans had an all-too-short lifespan, and were forced to cram an eternity into a few decades in-case there was nothing to come afterward.

As Dean drove, Zachariah sat in a bar drinking to deal with his problems out of some bizarre habit he'd acquired from the humans because Angels had very few methods to deal with stress and/or the results of failure that didn't involve mass destruction on a continental if not global scale. When Lucifer had failed to show and start playing his role in the coming Apocalypse, he'd been forced to go the "If you want something done right..." route.

He was reasonably certain that Death hadn't been the least bit fooled by his act, but had been playing along due to the utter hilarity that had resulted from the fact that they were trying to go by a script that had obviously been tossed out the window at some point.

To top things off, Raphael had been increasingly blaming him for his failure to get Dean to say yes to Michael who completely refused to come out of whatever corner of Heaven he'd holed himself up in. When he'd asked Joshua for advice on the matter, the gardener had stood there and laughed himself sick until he'd gotten tired of listening to the laughter and left.

From what he'd been told, someone else would be assigned to do what he should've done, and he would soon be punished for his failures. This was probably his last chance to get a drink and commiserate with one of the soon to be dead mud monkeys over the fact that work sucked.

As he was doing so, Raphael arrived and informed him that he was being given a final chance.

After a long and mindnumbingly slow drive to Bobby's, Sam and Dean got out of the car in silence and stretched their limbs, including a couple they weren't about to admit they had. Admitting it would mean that the little slip-ups they'd previously been ignoring could no-longer be ignored, and that it would all be over.

"Whelp." Dean said. "We're here."

"Now what?" Sam asked.

"Dunno." Dean said. "Let's go inside and figure it out."

When they got inside, they found a now-sober Cas sitting there waiting for them. From the looks of things, the smaller and younger angel was preparing for a confrontation they couldn't have right now, because it would lead to the other confrontation. When he was just about to open his mouth however, the three of them were hit with a vision.

Looking between them and realizing that neither of them were going to respond to the situation, whatever it was, Castiel sighed and flew off. He returned a few minutes later with the third Winchester brother, the dead up until a few minutes ago Adam.

Both Sam and Dean examined Adam in curiosity, now wondering how Adam had come to be, considering how they had come to be.

There was a long pause, and then a simultaneous exclamation of "What the?! Aziraphale!"

Adam stood there wondering what the hell his half-brothers were talking about, completely unknowing of the fact that...

January 1990:

It had been cold, and snowy. The small angel who was on punishment duty for being too much like his literary counterpart when it came to the humans he was supposed to watch over had decided that he couldn't take it anymore. Another angel had already fallen, proving it could be done. Standing at the edge of heaven, a small, low on the totem pole angel who shared a name with a literary angel who had interfered with an apocalypse in a book which would be published in a few months ripped out his Grace and plummeted towards the Earth.

Three Years Later:

A small blond child whose curls were straightening out, making him look a little less like a girl walked up to a woman in scrubs holding a picture.

"It's for you." the little boy said shyly.

"Thank you!" the woman exclaimed, taking the picture with a smile despite the fact that he'd already drawn about a hundred in the last week, and despite the fact that she'd purchased a ream of paper two weeks before, they were running dangerously low. If that smile happened to be a little fixed...

"I'm so glad I have a Mommy, and...Well, I have a Mommy!" the small boy exclaimed as he headed over towards where the markers were being kept.

Looking at the picture her son drew which contained a great deal of red and not in the "flowers and hearts" way, Kate Milligan wondered if maybe she should send her son to therapy.