Topic: Sealed With a Kiss (AU)

Ayden

Date: 2014-02-12 03:50 EST
((Follows the events of Turn of Fates.))

Blood and pain came together in the awkward process of removing destroyed clothing with care to fill the quiet air of Ayden's bedroom in the dorm she shared with her best friend with some highly colorful curses. Despite how recently the slashes on her neck and arm had been inflicted, it had been long enough that the blood had begun to clot, sticking the wool of her top to her flesh as she and Ares worked together to peel the cloth away from her injuries. She was hoping not to have to call on a certain archangel, but the new flow of blood from her arm as her top was dropped to the floor was too much to countenance trying to pass it off as an accident of any kind. She whimpered softly at the pain in her neck, too, wincing as she looked up at Ares. "I'm gonna have to call someone to heal me," she told him, awkward and regretful. She had a feeling he wasn't going to get along with the angel on her shoulder.

He had been remarkably gentle as together they peeled the torn and bloodied clothing away from her wounded flesh. He, too, had been bloodied - and with a blade from which it would take time to heal - but the pain of his wound was nothing compared to the agony in his heart at seeing her hurt. He was only happy he hadn't lost her. "It's my fault, Ayden. I shouldn't have marked you. It was reckless and foolish on my part." He wished in that moment that he knew something of healing, but he was a warrior. The healing arts had never interested him much, until now. "Do you wish me to go?" he asked, not wanting to stay where he was not wanted or needed, though he was starting to care for her more than even he cared to admit.

Odd, how she had been so shy of him just a couple of days before, and yet here and now, she was perfectly content to sit close on the edge of her bed with him, virtually topless but for her bra, which wasn't exactly the most modest piece of clothing she could wish for. "None of this is your fault," she told him sternly. "If you hadn't been there, we'd all be dead. Seriously, a few cuts and bruises is worth it for what we managed to do today, and we couldn't have done it without you." She glanced at his wound with a frown. "Remind me when we're done with me to take a look at that for you." Pressing a fresh towel to her bleeding arm, she met his gaze as he offered to leave, sincere and certain in her reply. "Stay. Please. I-I feel safe with you around."

He waved off her concern over him with a shrug. "It's nothing. I'm fine." He'd had far worse, and in all truth, he was happy to offer up his own blood in sacrifice, so long as she was safe. "It was a trap, Ayden. They knew I marked you, and they set a trap to kill you," he pointed out, insisting her wounds were his fault, despite the fact that they had actually succeeded. He frowned at her, knowing who it was she would call on for help. Apollo was most likely busy watching over Dean and Nimue. He hoped they had succeeded in their quest, as well, but for now, all his thoughts and concerns were for Ayden. "You will call on the angel then."

"And they failed," she pointed out with a rueful smile. "Quit worrying about what?s done. And no getting out of it - I'm a med student, I'll drug you if I have to so I can clean that wound." She paused as he mentioned Gabriel, uncertain whether she was surprised or not that he knew about her archangel guardian. "He's gonna be pissed with me," she warned him quietly. "Try not to take too much offense. He's an *ss, but he tries."

He grunted, reluctantly admitting defeat. "And I'm a God. I'm afraid your drugs won't work on me." He shrugged again, stepping away so that she could call on her angel and he could do what he needed to do without him getting in the way. "He can be....pissed with me," he said, the modern vernacular a little awkward on his tongue, though he was slowly getting used to it.

"He might be," she snorted with laughter, taking a deep breath before raising her voice just a little. "Gabriel. Gabriel, I know you're sulking, but I really could use your help right now." She was startled by the almost instant response, her little dorm room suddenly feeling very crowded as the last remaining archangel on Earth popped into existence, deliberately putting himself between her and the Olympian God of War.

"Ares," Gabriel greeted the other being through gritted teeth, twisting to look over his shoulder at Ayden. "You ditched me for an oiled up poser like this?"

"Ditched?" Ares echoed, swinging a puzzled look at Ayden at all of the unfamiliar slang. He didn't really have to understand the words to know he was being insulted, however, and by a being he thought beneath him. After all, the Olympians had been there first, at least in Ares' mind, but in truth, it was all a matter of perspective. Chicken or the egg, anyone"

"Cast aside," Ayden provided the translation for Ares without thinking, without even realizing she was doing it, leveling a steady gaze on the archangel who was blocking her view of the Olympian in the first place. "And I never ditched you. I told you what we were doing."

Gabriel snorted, rolling his eyes. "After you'd already called this wuss into the mix," he pointed out. "I'd have told you what a dumb*ss idea it is to try and kill a Fate."

"Wuss?" Ares echoed, bristling. He no longer guessed the archangel was insulting him; he knew it for fact. There was no mistaking the tone of the angel's voice. "And you'd have been wrong. But I'm not really surprised to hear that from someone who was too cowardly to stand up to his own brothers. Do you know how Gabriel spent the last two thousand years? Trying to pass himself off as a god. Loki, no less. The Messenger of the Christian God playing tricks on humanity. How very becoming of you, Gabriel."

"Look, macho, I've been down here long enough to know how humans work," Gabriel bristled right back at him, the anger in his voice palpable following the mention of his brothers. "I stood with them against my brothers. Don't give me that crap - you're only here because you want in her panties."

Ayden scowled, reaching out to thump the archangel firmly in the back for that comment. "Less bitching, more healing," she informed him, and despite his obvious irritation,

Gabriel turned to lay his hands on her, the seeping wounds on her neck and arm swept away without evidence that they had ever been there. He looked her over, one brow raised as he took in her lack of attire. "Never stripped your top off for me before, Aydee," he commented. "You're pretty buff for a Winchester."

Ayden

Date: 2014-02-12 03:51 EST
"Careful, angel," Ares started, the word obviously dripping with loathing. "As I recall, lusting after mortals is what got your brother cast out of Heaven. Oh, but I almost forgot. Daddy has gone missing, so you're all on your own now. How sad. I'm crying on the inside."

"My Dad never put me on trial or let me screw my own sister," Gabriel shot back, straightening up to step in front of Ayden once again. "Dread to think what kind of ancient diseases you're carrying, Olympian. Put it about a bit, didn't you? When you weren't being bullied by all the bigger gods."

Behind Gabriel, Ayden stood up, stubborn enough not to put a shirt on now her lack of modesty had been pointed out, and poked him in the back again. "Stop it," she told him, though she was pretty sure she was going to be ignored. A pissing match between a god and an archangel was probably a spectator sport.

"You couldn't screw your own sister, if you tried," Ares pointed out helpfully, not backing down despite Ayden's plea. He had a few things to say to the archangel before he was done. "Tell me, Gabriel....If you're so keen on keeping Ayden safe, where is your sword" Where were you when she needed you? Oh, that's right. My power trumps yours. As for the dumb*ss idea, two of the three Fates are dead, and we have the means to kill Hades." Or any other Olympian, including himself, for that matter.

Gabriel's eyes narrowed as he glared at the Olympian, a suggestion of darkening in the room bringing his wings into notice for a split second before he got a grip on himself. "Back off, bully boy," he warned. "The second she works out you're only after her womb, you'll be dust. Her brother's got a hard-on for killing your kind." He grunted as Ayden finally got through with a very hard slap to the back of his head, elbowing him out of the way to stand between the warring parties.

"Both of you, stop it," she told them sternly, one hand lying flat against Ares' chest, the other pointing her finger beneath Gabriel's nose as she looked back and forth between them. "You want to have a pissing match, do it elsewhere. Gabriel, I called you and you didn't come. Ares saved our lives, and we've got what we need. And as much as you may not like him, Ares, Gabriel just healed me without asking questions or playing around. If you're both going to hover around me, you need to settle this."

Ares' eyes not only narrowed but darkened, like the sky growing black with storm clouds. He wasn't afraid of anything, certainly not the last of the Archangels, whom he deemed a coward. "The Winchesters are held in high esteem among the Gods for their bravery and service to mankind. What have you done for humanity lately, Gabriel" You are fortunate you did not meet the same fate as Raphael. It is only your alliance with the Winchesters that kept you alive." Ares held his tongue against the list of insults and accusations he would have liked to have pinned on Gabriel and his kind, only because of Ayden. Inwardly he was fuming, but he pushed his personal grievances aside for her sake. "At least, he is still useful for something," he admitted grudgingly.

If looks could kill, Ares would have dropped dead right then and there. He'd hit a nerve, clearly, and though Gabriel was usually smart with his comebacks, he wanted to get one thing very clear in the Olympian's mind. "You do know I'm the only reason she's sane, right?" he said, almost as a throwaway line, stepping back. His eyes met Ayden's, shutting Ares out finally. "Call me when you're seeing sense, Aydee."

"Gabriel -" But it was too late. Ayden sighed as the deafening flap of invisible wings swept the archangel out of the room and away. She had a feeling she was probably going to have to find time to talk to him alone, or risk causing a nuclear strike from one or both sides whenever he and Ares were sharing air space.

"Upstart," Ares muttered as Gabriel flapped his wings and flew away like a bird, like the coward he was, Ares thought. "I am not only interested in your womb," he pointed out, his mood soured by the archangel's insults. It was a mutual hatred that went back practically to the dawn of time. "We were here first, before those upstarts interfered." But all this was old news and mostly irrelevant now in the grand scheme of things. "He's wrong, you know."

"I know you're not," Ayden assured him, turning to face him, unembarrassed for once to find herself standing that close. The rather possessive touch of her hand against his chest surprised her, wondering if that was part of the reason Gabriel had left so abruptly. She'd declared her allegiance with a single touch. Of course, if he chose to abandon her, she was screwed, or so she thought. She frowned curiously as Ares continued. "No, he's right," she sighed regretfully. "We tested it out a few years back. Without him around, I don't get any sleep, I can't focus on actual reality. I'd go nuts." She shrugged, gently skimming her fingers to the hem of the Olympian's shirt. "Take this off, let me get a look at that cut."

"Perhaps then, but not anymore," Ares insisted, ignoring her request to tend to his wound, which was minor and more of an annoyance than anything else. "You are a seer, Ayden. It is a rare gift, and one we Olympians honor. There are ways to control your gift, to stabilize your visions." And though he didn't say it outright, he was implying it could be done without the help of an angel.

"I don't talk in riddles and I'm not going to let priests drug me," she said promptly, proving that she had at least paid attention to a couple of documentaries about Delphi in her lifetime. But she said it with a smile, not sure whether she believed him or not. Her fingers twitched at the hem of his shirt again in a subtle hint for him to do as he was told. "How do you stabilize my visions, then" Put me in a coma for a few weeks at a time?"

"A coma?" he echoed, not quite sure what that meant exactly, but it didn't sound good. "No, I was thinking perhaps Apollo could help. Oracles and seers are not really my specialty." No, his specialty was combat, battle, war. Not healing, not prophecy, not even love, though he seemed to be heading in the right direction.

"He's kinda got his hands full with Dean right now," she pointed out, turning away to pull a large med-kit out from under her bed as she spoke, no doubt providing a fun view for the less philosophically inclined part of his being. "But I get what you're saying. You're saying that I don't have to be dependent on an archangel for the sake of my sanity. It's just hard. He isn't the most present or the most likeable, but he's looked after me for a long time when he really didn't have to. I don't want to be ungrateful."

"There is another way, but..." He broke off as Ayden continued, and he realized perhaps the angel meant more to her than he'd thought. Her reluctance to part with him seemed to go a little deeper than mere fear of her visions turning into nightmares, at least, to him. "I see," he replied, though he had obviously misunderstood her. "You have been with him for some time. He obviously cares for you." Or so he thought.

Ayden

Date: 2014-02-12 03:52 EST
She straightened up, staring at the wall opposite for a long moment. There was something in his tone as he said that which pricked at her, some implication he hadn't named. Setting the med-kit down on the bed, she turned to face Ares, looking him dead in the eye in all seriousness. "Yes, I have," she told him. "After my brothers died, Ellen and Bobby cut off all contact with me. Not a phone call, not a letter, nothing to give me any kind of tangible connection with the family I'd lost. All I had was Gabriel, and the only reason he was there was because my brother guilt-tripped him into it. He doesn't hang around for my sake, he hangs around because he feels like he owes Dean something. He was all I had for a very long time, and that should tell you how desperate I was. I tried to befriend an angel who considers me more of a burden than my brothers ever did."

"I have been watching you a long time, Ayden, and you are no burden. Not to me." He lifted a hand to touch her face, but thought better of it. If she was beholden to an angel or even in love with one, who was he to stand in her way' And yet, he would have faced a thousand angels for just one lifetime with her. His passion bubbled to the surface, and he realized he was feeling more for her than he had admitted even to himself. "There is another way."

The hesitation made her frown, and quite suddenly the words she'd never had the courage to say burst out in unexpected anger. "You know what I see when I look at him' I see Michael, and Lucifer, and Zachariah. I see every angel that's ever hurt me; every angel that killed my mother, and my brothers, and made me watch. I look at him, and I know he could crush me like a bug if I ever piss him off enough, and I know there's nothing I could do to stop it. He's not my friend, he never has been. He tolerates me, and I tolerate him, but frankly, he scares the ever living crap out of me. Because the second he decides he doesn't need me anymore, I'm in a mental hospital or worse, and that'll be the end of it!"

Ares was, not for the first time, surprised by her passionate outburst, by her anger, by the pain and loneliness she carried around inside her, but he was also relieved by it - relieved to know that she didn't care for the angel, that she didn't even consider him a friend. He touched her chin, tipping her head up to face him. "Did you hear me, Ayden" I said there's another way."

"What other way?" she asked, shaking a little with her outburst. She had held all that inside for years, never daring to express it to Gabriel, never wanting to worry the Singers with her fear of the one being who kept her sane just by being around, utterly bemused by the fact that she had just shared it with a god, a person she'd known for all of two days. "Make me reliant on someone else who'd be able to hold my own sanity over my head like a threat for the rest of my life?"

He arched a blond brow at her remark, wondering just what she meant by that. Though he valued her courage and understood her anger, he thought perhaps it was too soon for what he'd been about to suggest. Or perhaps he should never have considered it at all. His heart sank a little, assuming she did not want to rely even on him. Well, why should she" She hardly knew him, and he was no better than an angel to her. There was a third option open to them, but it would mean swallowing more than a little of his pride. "I could ask my father to help you."

She blinked, her own brow rising in response to that. "Seriously' You'd set your over-sexed power-freak of a father on me?" She snorted a little, but there was a smile on her face as she did so, raising her hands to his cheeks as she kissed the tip of his nose. "I get the feeling you just changed what you were about to say to me," she told him, dropping her hands to the hem of his shirt, drawing it upwards whether he helped her or not. She was, after all, a med student, and he was injured. He couldn't distract her that easily. "I'll stop being petulant if you tell me what you were going to say."

He tensed a little at the insult to his father, whether it was true or not, her words wounding his pride. Gabriel had accused him of both sleeping with his own sister and of only wanting Ayden for her womb, and it suddenly struck him how similar he and his father really were. He had slept with numerous women - mortal and immortal alike - and fathered dozens of children, few of whom still cared whether he lived or died. It had left him feeling alone and bereft, despite his many so-called love affairs throughout the years. He had never taken any of them for a wife, and even now, doubted he was worthy of love. He let her draw his shirt upwards without argument, since she seemed so determined to tend to his wound. How could she know that the deepest wound went far deeper than the surface" "He is still my father," Ares pointed out quietly.

She paused, letting his shirt fall to the bed as she looked into his eyes, serious and understanding in her own way. "My father was a revenge-obsessed killer who kept me a secret from everyone," she told him just a quietly. "He was still my Dad, but that doesn't mean I don't know who and what he was. Family is family, and they're the ones who make you hurt the most." Her palm cupped his cheek as she spoke, holding his gaze with gentle empathy. "I think we've got more in common than first meets the eye."

"He is right. I slept with my sister. I have slept with many women," he admitted. "I am no better than my father, though I have never forced myself on anyone, or tricked anyone into doing my bidding. I have tried to be honest and honorable, but I have made my share of mistakes. I know what I am, Ayden. I do not deny it. And I know what others think of me, but I have changed. I am not my father. Not anymore."

"I know." There was so much confidence in the way she said it. She'd known him for so short a time, and yet Ayden was absolutely certain that Ares was nothing like the myth Sam had shared with her, or the myths of his father she'd variously read or been told over the years of her life. She drew him down onto the bed beside her, rooting through her med-kit for a dressing, her attention turning to cleaning his wound as she poured antiseptic onto a sterile cloth and began to gently wipe the slash that had been left behind on his torso. "You want to know how I know that?"

There had been a time when he might have wailed and carried on over the wound, when he was young, when he was still a child. A child in a man's body - that was what he had been - but he was a child no longer. Too much had happened, too much time had passed. He had grown and matured and changed, even if his own family didn't want to admit it. Perhaps one day they'd see that they'd been wrong about him. Until then, he was alone. He only shrugged silently in answer to her question.

She concentrated on the wound a moment or two longer, making certain it was as clean as she could possibly get it, lifting her gaze to his with a soft half-smile playing at her lips. "Because we both know you could have had me a dozen times in the last couple of days, whether I was really ready for it or not," she told him, "and you haven't. You've gone out of your way to protect me from that desire, mine and yours. I feel very safe with you. That's how I know."

Ayden

Date: 2014-02-12 03:53 EST
"But not safe enough," he told her, lifting a hand to sweep the hair back from her face. Not safe enough to keep the nightmares and the visions at bay. He wasn't sure if he could take Gabriel's place, if he could be what she needed him to be. "I could not have healed you. I cannot control your visions. I am a warrior. That is all that I am."

"You're the warrior," she told him firmly, the gentleness of her voice only seeming to underline how certain she was of what she was saying. "The ultimate expression of the projection of force, but that doesn't mean that you're not anything else. You're gentle, and kind, and lonely. You have great intelligence and keen insight, and no one can match your courage. And to have all that, you balance it out with passion. When you feel something, you feel it with your whole being. It's a pretty big all." She leaned in close to him, brushing the tip of her nose to his. "You know, you haven't kissed me for a coupla days."

"Kissing you is dangerous. I do not trust myself with you. I should not even be here alone with you. It takes all my self-control to resist you. Don't you know what you do to me?" he asked, fingers cupping her cheek. He looked young, far younger than he really was. A seasoned warrior with the face of a youth. And he was slowly but surely losing his heart to a mortal woman, like others of his kind before him. Whatever it was Gabriel thought of them, they were a passionate race, the Olympians, and when they loved, they loved with all their being, never doing anything half-way, not even that.

As his fingers touched her cheek, she breathed out slowly, the cadence of her breath seeming to highlight the soft pink flush that spread over her skin in response to his touch. Opening her eyes once more, she couldn't have hidden the longing there even if she had tried, though there was a softer feeling deep within the desire that flared. Something that could, if it was nurtured, grow into the feeling he seemed to be waiting for. "Tell me," she whispered softly, wanting to know, needing to understand that she wasn't the only one losing a part of herself in whatever this was.

"I am no poet, and such feelings require poetry," he paused a moment as if in thought, searching his warrior's brain for a few lovely words that might describe what he was feeling. "There is one I remember. I have not thought of it in a long while," he started, and for the first time since she'd met him, he flushed with embarrassment at the words he was about to say. He was a solider, not a lover, and yet who better to understand the passions of love but one who knew human life was fleeting" "Look at me and I burn; touch me and I am caught," he recited in a voice too quiet, too heart-felt for a God who claimed he was only a soldier.

The words were accurate, a perfect description of the way she felt around him, but Ayden had something to add to it, something no Ancient Greek poet had ever written. Her fingers skimmed over his chest, matching the cup of his hand against her cheek with the gentle curl of her palm to his. "Kiss me, and I'm yours," she told him softly, and some part of her meant it whole-heartedly. Something was happening here that was beyond her to describe or explain; all she could really say was that she didn't want it to stop.

He was caught in her spell, unable and unwilling to stop himself from falling deeper into the throes of love. If she spurned him, he feared he would grieve her loss for a thousand years. He leaned closer, close enough to taste her breath, to gaze into her eyes, as green as his beloved rainforest. He felt his heart beating, one beat at a time, as though his heart beat solely for her. Was she really offering herself to him' Did she know what such a thing implied? He touched her cheek again with gentle fingers, wondering at the loveliness of her face, more beautiful than Aphrodite, wiser than Athena, gentler than Artemis. How sweet her lips, as sweet as ripened cherries, and how he longed to taste them once again.

He took her at her word, accepting her offer, with a brush of his lips against hers, soft at first, tender, all the passion he was feeling shared in that one kiss, all the loneliness and the longing. If she could only be truly his for all time, he would vow to always care for her, to always make her happy, and she would not have to worry about nightmares forevermore.

Though she might not be ready in that moment to make the commitment he hoped for, she'd given him her word, trusted him with her safety, and now she was offering him herself, the only way she really knew how. He made her feel, the only person to have done so at all in her lifetime, and though she was young, there was a sense of finality with that frisson of sensation, of emotion. A part of her that was growing ever stronger seemed certain that he was her match, no matter the objection of anyone else. And of course, his kiss took her breath away, lighting her up from within as she surged to meet him, curling her arms about him to share the softness of her lips beneath his own, her body molding to the firm planes of his. Inexperience and shyness seemed to count for nothing in the face of an Olympian who burned for her.

Somewhere between the poetry and the promises and the kisses, he'd forgotten to explain that last option that might quell the horror of her visions and nightmares. Though he desperately wanted to help her, he once again sensed it was too soon to suggest that last option - an option that, if she accepted, would change her life forever. As much as he despised the archangel who was watching over her, he could not deny that she needed him - at least, for now. Every fiber of his being was screaming for her touch, for her kisses, to make her his for all time, and yet, he did not wish to rush her. She was so unlike anyone he had ever loved before, and when she finally gave herself over to him completely, he wanted it to last, he wanted it to be forever. But it wasn't going to happen tonight, especially since a certain nephew had just burst through the door into Ayden's dormitory, looking pale and shaky.

"Dude," came a familiar voice from behind said shaky nephew. "Knocking. Always good!"

Ayden squeaked in alarm, her face lighting up in another vibrant blush of embarrassment as she lurched away from Ares, scrambling for a shirt, any shirt to cover herself with.

Even Ares flushed a little, though it was hard to say whether that flush was due to embarrassment or desire. He pulled quickly away from Ayden, realizing they were both only half-dressed. "It isn't what it looks like," he blurted quickly, unsure whether it really mattered. He'd made his intentions for Ayden clear, or so he thought, and she had offered herself to him more than once. He glanced between the Winchester siblings and the young woman he was hoping to make his and decided he had overstayed his welcome. "I will see you soon," he assured Ayden as he turned back to her, and then he disappeared as he was wont to do, leaving his shirt behind.

"Whoa, Ayden, that's more than I need to..." Sam started, upon seeing the half-clad pair in a slightly compromising position, but before he could finish, Ares had disappeared into thin air again, and the room was starting to spin dizzily.

Surfacing from inside her fresh shirt, Ayden was only just in time to meet Ares' gaze before he winked out of sight, unable to hide the disappointment in her sigh as she turned slightly unforgiving eyes onto her nephew and niece.

Hope winced cheerfully. "Sorry about that," she offered, gently ushering Sam further into the room as his perspective started to suffer. "C'mon, Bertie, let's get you rested up."

Ayden

Date: 2014-02-12 03:54 EST
Recognizing the minor head injury for what it was, Ayden swept the med-kit off the bed and pulled back the covers. "Put him in there," she ordered. "Rest and company to keep an eye on him. And no driving for at least 48 hours."

Sam didn't bother to argue, knowing if he didn't do as he was told, he was going to pass out right then and there. "Sorry, Ayden," he apologized with a frown, feeling bad for chasing Ares away at an inopportune time. "He sure comes and goes a lot," he remarked as he let Hope help him into bed. "I'm okay. I just need a little shuteye," he told his sister, as he tried to shake her off.

"Yeah, says the guy who got out of the car too fast and threw up on that girl's shoes," Hope pointed out, but however teasing she was being, she was very gentle as she settled her big brother down, tugging his boots off his feet and removing all weapons before covering him up.

Ayden moved to take a look at his head, sitting on the edge of the bed as she eased her fingertips as gently as she could over the beautiful bump on the back of Sam's head. "You get some sleep," she told him. "I'm sure the God of War will be able to find time in his hectic schedule to get me down to my bra again sometime." She grinned, tweaking the end of Sam's nose briefly. "I'll wake you up in a couple of hours to check everything's still working, okay?"

Sam winced a little when he felt her fingers find the lump on the back of his head. It wasn't the first clunk on the head he'd ever experienced, and he thought the two of them were making a little much of it, but he didn't mind the attention and he couldn't deny he was feeling a little woozy. "Yeah, she was kinda cute," Sam remarked, with a sleepy smile at the memory of the girls whose boots he'd decorated with the contents of his stomach. "Probably ruined any chances of asking her on a date," he continued as he settled himself against the pillows, smirking up at his aunt. "Ayden and Ares, sitting in a tree..."

"Watch it, kiddo," Ayden warned, but she couldn't help laughing at the woozy teasing coming from a young man who was going to be unconscious within a minute, if she was any judge. "Interrupt too many times, and you won't get any cousins."

Hope choked at that, staring at her aunt wide-eyed from where she was carefully cleaning off the Hind's Blood dagger. "Is that why we don't have any in the future" People kept interrupting ....aw, man, I'm wondering now if Ares has ever sealed the deal."

"He's got it bad," Sam remarked with a grin, feeling a little drunk, though he hadn't had a single drink. "Dad's gonna be pissed," he muttered sleepily as his eyes slid slowly closed. "But he'll get over it," Sam continued, offering a hint of a future where the God of War was one of the family. Unfortunately for Ayden, Sam surrendered to unconsciousness before he could explain further, leaving Hope and Ayden alone to clean up the mess and catch each other up. Though Sam hadn't mentioned it, he'd noticed that Ayden's wounds had been healed, which only made him smile as he drifted off to sleep, relieved and satisfied with a job well done.

Ayden looked over at Hope, meeting the younger girl's smile with one of her own. It had been a shocking day, certainly, and one not to be forgotten, but they'd come out of it triumphant. There, in Hope's hand, lay the Hind's Blood dagger, worth killing for, worth dying for. Now all they had to do was get it to Dean and Nim before Hades had a chance to work out what, exactly, was going on.

((Angels and Olympians really don't mix, do they' As always, splendiferous thankipoos to Areios and Sam's player!))