((Immediately follows The Devil's Deal.))

Ahead of them, daylight began to show itself. The end of the tunnel was in sight, and with it, the end of their last moments of blissful safety. Both Dean and Nim knew that the moment they brought the blade out into the open, all bets were off. They just had to hope that their advance warning would be enough. Nim paused just beneath the mouth of the cave, squeezing Dean's hand as she slipped Ruby's Knife from its hiding place. "You ready?"

"As ready as I'm gonna be," Dean replied grimly. It wasn't fear for his own life that was bothering him, but fear for Nim and the baby. They'd been over it a dozen times or more and knew what they had to do. This wasn't just about Nim and the baby; it was about the future of the entire world. "Nim..." he started, looking into her eyes and seeing his future. There was nothing he wouldn't do to keep her and the baby safe, but they both knew what would happen if he tried to go it alone. "If anything happens to me..." he started.

"Don't say it." Her fingers stopped his mouth, refusing to listen to whatever it was he had been about to say. "We are both coming through this, or I will never forgive you, you got that' And that's nothing compared to what Ellen will do to you. So just you stop thinking about it."

He wasn't sure why, but it seemed the world's survival somehow depended on him surviving. Maybe it was because he refused to give up. Even death hadn't stopped them from finding their way back to each other, even if it was the Olympians who were to blame. He quieted as her fingers found his lips, going no further. He wouldn't have even known what else to say. Take care of Sammy' Get the hell out of dodge" Find a way to survive, no matter what happens" They both knew this was only one of many battles yet to come, but Dean couldn't help wishing there was a better way. "No matter what happens, you remember I love you."

Her dark eyes were deep with unspoken words, but all she said was, "I love you. Don't leave me alone here." One hand curled to his neck, pulling him into a fierce kiss, pouring out her need for him to survive this, hoping he could gather some unknown strength from that. They both knew she was not likely to be much help in this fight, but whatever she could do, she would.

He returned her kiss, just as fierce and desperate as her own - not a last kiss, by any means, but one that would certainly be hard to forget. It was difficult navigating the kiss with that damned blade in his hand, but somehow how he managed, touching her cheek with gentle fingers before drawing away. "Don't do anything stupid," he warned. "Ruby's Knife might work on demons, but I've no idea if it works on gods."

"I'm the distraction," she nodded in agreement, for once not putting up a fight when it came to being given a secondary role. She had little Sam to consider, after all. "Let's get this over with."

"If anything goes wrong, you call on whoever will listen to get you out of here, you hear me?" he asked, though it was more of an order than a request. He didn't care if it was angels, demons, or gods. He wanted her and Sam to come out of this alive.

"I will," she promised him, whether she had any intention of doing it or not. The last thing Dean needed was to go into a fight not trusting her to look after herself and their unborn son. She turned toward the tunnel entrance, adjusting her grip on the Knife. "Ready when you are."

Dean pulled away from her, turning to face the tunnel entrance, knowing that as soon as they stepped outside, all Hell - or more accurately - Hades was going to break loose. "Ready as I'll ever be," he replied, tightening his hold on Death's Blade and steeling himself for a fight.

Side by side, they stepped out of the cover the tunnel provided, looking out over the barren vista bordered with green. They were miles from anywhere vaguely civilized - miles from putting any innocents in danger - which was just as well. Barely ten seconds after they had stepped from the safety of Hephaestus' lair, the sky flickered dark for a long moment, and a woman appeared in front of them. Tall, dark-haired, her silver eyes holding more than just a warning, her gaze focused on the blade in Dean's hand. A cruel smile twisted her lips. "Throw down the Scythe and leave quietly, Dean Winchester, and I won't kill your little woman."

"I don't think so," Dean said, only gripping the blade tighter in his fingers, a grim look on his face. He wasn't going to be intimidated into handing over their best chance at defeating Hades and his minions, no matter how much she threatened them. "Right, and I'm supposed to trust you," he told her sarcastically.

"I'm talking, aren't I?" Persephone pointed out with mild irritation. "My husband would simply have attacked, but I have no real wish to kill Zeus' favorite pets. Perhaps you could even join us. Your family would be protected when we take over."

Beside Dean, Nim rolled her eyes, wondering if all Olympians got a crash course in posturing, or if it was something they inherited from their Titan forebears.

"Your husband," Dean echoed, dubiously. "You mean the son of a bitch who abducted and raped you and then made a deal with your mother so that he could hold you hostage half the year. I'm familiar with the story," Dean replied. "Here's a newsflash for you, sister. We aren't on anyone's side, except our own. That's humanity to you. I couldn't care less who wins your little spat. We're fighting for the survival of the human race. You had your shot. You blew it. Now it's our turn."

"You mortals and your myths." Persephone laughed, shaking her head. "It is just a story. I know the truth well enough, and I do not need to explain that to you." Without warning, her hand flicked out, casting a surge of crackling energy - almost like lightning - toward Nim.

Dean didn't hesitate to react. There were two choices open to him - he could either step in front of that bolt of energy in hopes of absorbing it in Nim's place, while knocking her out of the way, or he could take advantage of the distraction Nim provided and go after Persephone with the blade. Since they had already discussed the possibilities and decided beforehand what choice he would make, he lunged for Persephone while she was distracted by Nim, raising the blade and swinging it toward her with the intention to separate her head from her shoulders. He just hoped his wife was wary and quick enough to get the hell out of the way.

A loving mother, overprotective, never explaining her reasons; a first crush, who used her as bait and was never truly welcomed at the roadhouse again; and a meeting ....a man in a leather jacket, a rifle set to his back. He disarms her and she punches him, taking the weapon back, and there he is, the man who would become the central figure in her heart. Dean Winchester.

Persephone's smirk was cruel as she looked down at the angry mortal man in front of her. "I did nothing that will harm her in any way," she taunted him. "But don't look to her for help. She's lost." Her hand flashed forward, a fresh barrage of power arcing toward him across the barren ground.

If she'd given him half a chance, he would have replied with some snarky remark, but as it was, he just barely managed to roll to his feet out of the way of the oncoming bolt of energy she was sending his way. "Damn it," he muttered, searching the ground for the blade and finding it just out of reach. One of these days he was going to figure out a way not to constantly be dropping his weapons when an enemy attacked. Somehow, he was going to have to get to that blade or he was going to be toast. His glance darted briefly back toward Nim to see if she had come out of her trance yet. If he couldn't get to the blade, and Nim couldn't help, then he was going to have no choice but to call on a higher power for help. In that moment, he wanted nothing better than to get the blade in his hand and kill that bitch.

There was no reaction from Nim. She was oblivious to what was happening, lost in the tsunami of memories washing over her. Every last detail of her life before she had been brought to his realm, from the moment she was born to the moment she died, flashed through her mind, slamming into the emptiness that had been her burden since Brian Morgan had found her bleeding in his alleyway. A lifetime to relive in just a few moments, holding her in place just as Persephone had hoped. Only she knew if that surging crest of memory would break her as the goddess wished.

But that meant she was of no help to Dean as Persephone continued to advance on him, laughing at his helplessness. "Look at you, little worm of a man," she goaded the hunter maliciously. "Unarmed, unprotected, abandoned by the one you love ....perhaps she'll come out of it in time to watch you die. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"I used to feel sorry for you," Dean replied, inching his way slowly toward where the blade lay abandoned on the ground, ignoring her taunts. "Poor little girl, stolen from her mother to live beneath the Earth, away from the sunlight you so love, but now I see, you're just a bitch, no better than the rest of them. You think we're just toys you can play with, but mark my words....We're going to be your downfall. We've grown up over the last couple thousand years. We don't need you anymore. Isn't that what all this is about' You're like a bunch of spoiled brats who had their toys taken away, only what you don't realize - what the angels failed to realize - is that if you really want us to worship you, then you have to make us love you, not hate and fear you."

Persephone's eyes blazed, raging with anger at the way he spoke to her. "How dare you speak to me like that?" she demanded. "You, who are nothing. You will be forgotten the moment you die, because that pretty little wife of yours is breaking as we speak. You dare say that humanity doesn't need us? You don't know the half of it." She raised her hand, a deadly ball of crackling, spinning energy growing in her grasp, preparing to deliver the deadly blow to the mortal man before her, oblivious to the sudden shout of alarm from her own mother. All she heard was a calm, human voice speak up from behind her.

"Yo, bitch."

Persephone turned to find Dean's wife looking up at her from behind a sarcastic smirk. "You talk too much." One balled fist hit the goddess square on the jaw, sending her stumbling back, more shocked than hurt by the blow.

Dean had noticed Nim moving behind Persephone, her face no longer looking blank, coherency returning. Though he wasn't quite sure what they'd done to her, she didn't look on the brink of madness at all. In fact, she looked very much like the woman he knew and loved, ready to give someone a very much-deserved *ss-kicking. He couldn't help but smirk when she landed that punch, knowing from personal first-hand experience what it felt like. Once again, he wasted no time in taking advantage of the distraction, knowing it wouldn't last long. He lunged for the blade where it lay useless on the ground, scooping it up in his hand and whirling around to swing it through the air, this time not missing.

There was one moment of exquisite stillness, a moment where the universe didn't know what had just happened. Then a line of red appeared around Persephone's neck, Demeter screamed, and the sky darkened as the head of Hades' wife fell free from her body, her expression more surprised than pained in the grip of death. As Demeter wailed, her grief painful to hear, the body of her beloved daughter exploded into nothingness with a shock-wave that knocked the hunters down onto the barren earth. Death's Scythe, much like the being himself, didn't do things by halves.

Dean took no joy in killing Persephone, in hearing her mother wail in grief. She didn't have to die. He'd given her a chance, an opportunity to let them go, but as it almost always was with these supernatural beings who thought themselves invincible, they let their ego and their own feeling of self-importance get the best of them, and it was that which often led to their destruction. He might have even apologized to the goddess for what he'd been forced to do to her daughter, if he had a coherent thought in his head. Tossed aside once again like a rag doll, he lay senseless on the ground, Death's Scythe beside him, between himself and his Nimue.

Away from them, Demeter dropped to her knees, her sobs deafening as she grieved anew for the daughter she had lost once and would now never see again. Above them, the sky darkened once more, the world grieving with the goddess for that lost, as a worrying rumble sounded from the ground beneath them. A split appeared in the earth, widening slowly, and only a sudden flash of warning in her mind brought Nim scrambling back onto her feet, scooping up the Scythe as she stood protectively over Dean. This was no earthquake. Hades was coming.

A sudden flicker of motion brought yet another female form into view, this one armed with bow and arrows, her expression fierce as she dropped to one knee beside Dean, looking up at Nim. "Ward yourselves," she said, her voice quiet, yet easily audible. "Apollo will come for you with the dawn." Without pausing to note if the huntress had taken in what she was told, the goddess laid her hands on both of them, transporting them in the blink of an eye to the hotel room they had taken at the airport.

Across the world, the skies darkened and the wind howled, and yet before the minute was done, both sky and wind were as they had been before. Only on Olympus and in the depths of the Underworld did that darkness continue. First blood had been spilled in the war of the gods, and Death's Scythe was abroad once again. Now was the time for the Olympians to nail their colors to the mast, to declare for their side, before their names appeared on Death's List to be crossed out by hunters who bore a weapon deadly to all. The war had truly begun.

((Three cheers for Dean Winchester, God-Slayer! :grin: And huge thanks to his player, too!))