Author's note: Thanks so much to Larkafree, Maknatuna, Maddy Love Castiel, QuietCrash, LeeMarieJack, fluid-time, Nyx Ro, CherylB1964, AnninaSA, Nicolene B, emebalia, eiahlaie, CoolCatz14, Crazy as a Cheshire Cat, XxZessxX, Barranca, Treeni, gothichick, random yet lovable and Chichi-10018 for last chapter's reviews!

Also thanks to everyone who read and reviewed this story. Thank you for making it possible that this story has over 1.000 reviews. Thanks for sticking with it and encouraging me to go on writing.

As always, special thanks to Treeni for beta-reading! This story would've never become what it is without you... and we sure as hell wouldn't have a "46"-triology without you. ;-)

I hope many of you will stay tuned for the sequel which I will start posting two weeks from now. See you then!

Epilogue

One moment Michael was pacing the throne room, considering the next steps that had to be taken to win in the Apocalypse and the next his whole world was turned upside down. Literally.

If he didn't know better, the archangel would assume he was falling, but that was impossible. Angels who stood against their father fell, angels who didn't follow the rules and who ripped out their own graces in an act of ultimate disobedience fell.

Michael hadn't done anything wrong; he continued to follow his father's plans as much as possible even though it had been a long time since he last was in contact with God. In fact, Michael even told Raphael to be patient and wait for Dean to come to them -as it was supposed to happen- when the younger archangel came to him with plans of how to force the older Winchester to say yes. The archangel knew Dean would say yes when he was ready, because it was in the plan. No, Michael couldn't be falling, he hadn't done anything wrong.

The archangel's considerations were abruptly cut short when the uncomfortable sensation of falling was replaced with the much worse feeling of drowning. It didn't make any sense, angels didn't have to breathe, but Michael clearly felt that he was going to drown, if he didn't reach the surface soon.

Through a series of kicking and reaching movements that he poorly mimicked from seeing a humans swim a couple times over the centuries, it only took a few short moments until the archangel's head broke through the surface of the water, but it might as well have been hours for all it felt like; his lungs burned and the archangel was left coughing and gasping as he felt physical effects of panic and exhaustion. Michael was insanely relieved to notice he wasn't far from the beach. Nothing about his situation made any sense, but the archangel couldn't hope to come to a conclusion as long as drowning was still in the cards.

Once Michael made it to the beach, he flipped onto his back doing nothing but breathing heavily for some time. The archangel groaned as he shielded his eyes against the setting sun. Actually, having a physical form with the burn of aching limbs from his fall and fight with the water was what made the least sense. Michael hadn't taken a vessel in decades, but the body he was in was clearly human. In fact, it was a little too human, almost as if there was no angel inside.

The archangel considered simply remaining where he was until... The moment Michael realized there was nothing good he could hope for that would come for him was the moment he realized he had to get moving. Whatever happened to him, he was more vulnerable than he had ever been in all his existence. It wouldn't do him any good to be found by any demon or monster like this.

Hell, as long as he didn't know how he had come into this situation, it wouldn't be good to be found by anyone. The way things were going, betrayal honestly wasn't out of the question. Loyalties among angels weren't what they used to be. Actually, they hadn't been since Lucifer's fall and especially lately it was impossible to guess where the next attack would come from. Gabriel of all people had resurfaced just to betray heaven, after all.

Michael sat up abruptly as he thought of the youngest of his archangel brothers. Whatever this was, it reeked of Gabriel! Lucifer could be sneaky and a real backstabber, but this didn't feel like an act of war. Once Michael caught his breath he felt... good, despite how abnormal the entire situation was. Strangely enough that was what unsettled the archangel the most.

The archangel's shirt and jeans were starting to dry as he walked down a mostly empty street. The few people passing by didn't pay him any attention, which suited Michael just right, even though he wasn't used to this level of ignorance from those around him. The archangel shook his head because of his own stupid thoughts and was startled when he caught sight of his reflection in a window.

"That's not..." Michael stated, his eyes widening as he touched his face gingerly. The archangel was looking straight into John Winchester's eyes, but that wasn't possible. The man had once said yes to him, but he would have needed permission again to get back into his backup vessel. Not to mention John Winchester was dead, his body burned, his soul missing, so he couldn't consent to anything. Besides, the man had been over twenty years older when he died than Michael looked.

The archangel forced his feet to start moving again. He was getting more confused and lost with every passing second, but he had to... Michael stopped in his tracks once more. Truthfully, he had no idea what he had to do, but just standing in one spot until the answer came to him -if it ever did- didn't seem wise. As the archangel looked around his eyes landed on a sign pointing to a nearby church. It wasn't much, but it was a sign.

Maybe Michael should have prayed for one of his trusted brothers or sisters to come and get him, but he honestly wasn't sure who he could trust. He had distanced himself from the other angels for millennia with minimal contact among them. In all honesty, there was only one person the archangel wanted to talk to. Only one person who could give him the answers he needed.

"Father, please hear me," Michael mumbled, closing his eyes as he sat in one of the pews, "What am I supposed to do?"

There were no rules, no protocols for a situation like this. Being thrown into a vessel and crash landing on Earth shouldn't have been possible. None of the godly laws Michael had been living by every single second of his existence told him what to do, where to go from here.

"I need direction," Michael whispered around the lump in his throat. He knew God hadn't spoken to any of them -other than Joshua, but that was only a rumor- in a very long time, but He couldn't watch all this and not have something to say! Michael had always been a faithful son and loyal to an absent father, God had to know that. He couldn't leave Michael with nothing! Michael sat in the pews for hours, praying, waiting for some kind of response or sign… at least something to give him guidance!

"Excuse me mister, but you've got to leave," a woman in her early twenties told the archangel in a nearly apologetic tone, "We're locking up for the night."

Michael was startled out of his continued silent pleas to his father and immediately stood up to leave. It was fruitless anyway. If God had an open ear for him, He would have spoken up by now. Michael belatedly realized he should have said something to the stranger, but he was already on his way out and she had a task to accomplish.

The archangel spotted a bench close to the church's entrance and for a lack of better options sat down on it. Michael had nowhere to go and no answers to any of his questions. He could still pray to one of the other angels... Michael was still considering which of his brothers and sisters were the most trustworthy when he heard someone approaching him. The woman must have finished whatever it was she had to do at the church.

"Do you have a place to go?" the dark-haired woman asked with a frown. The guy looked lost when she first saw him, but she hadn't attached much meaning to it. A lot of people were lost when they went to church outside of services. Taking a closer look, she noticed how rumpled, slightly dirty and damp his plaid shirt was. She would have assumed he was a homeless person, but while he gave off the air of someone who didn't belong there or knew what to do or where to go now, having no direction in every sense of the word kind of lost. On top of that, it was a small town and homelessness just wasn't common in those parts; something didn't add up. "You weren't planning to spend the entire night out here, were you?"

Michael couldn't honestly answer that question. The truth was he didn't have a plan, which was the entire problem. Apparently, some of his inner turmoil was showing on his face, at least the woman seemed to clearly read something from his expression.

"Right," she said, clearing her throat awkwardly like she came to a decision, "Okay... uh... look, my uncle's the minister here and... well, he always says people aren't charitable enough this day and age."

"I'm afraid I don't understand," Michael replied, cocking his head as he tried to figure out what he was supposed to do with the information he had been given. People probably weren't charitable enough, her uncle might be right there, but what was Michael supposed to do about it?

"Uh... we live over there," the woman clarified, pointing to a house close to the church, "There's a guest room and I guess I'm inviting you."

Michael blinked a few times, staring at the woman dumbly. He could use a place to stay while he sorted out his thoughts and figure out the entirety and limitations of his situation. That way he wouldn't have to make any rash decisions. Michael always was uncomfortable with rash decisions. He liked to consider all possibilities and reconcile what he thought needed to be done with his father's plans.

"You're not a crazy axe murderer or something, right?" the woman added as if on an afterthought.

"I don't possess an axe as you can see," Michael answered seriously, showing his hands and his lack of luggage. The archangel understood the question hadn't been completely serious, but he wasn't in the mood for jokes or finding a humorous answer.

"What a relief," the young woman huffed out a chuckle before she added cheerfully, "Well, c'mon then."

To tell the truth, she knew this was a spectacularly stupid idea, an idea likely to get her lectured by her aunt and uncle again, but the guy was so obviously lost and he looked harmless enough. Not to mention he probably had quite the story to tell, once she got him to talk. Maybe she was a little intrigued by the stranger in a town of sameness and boring, sue her.

"Do you have a name?" she prompted, stopping in front of the garden gate, "I'm Hope."

Michael couldn't help smiling at that, he liked to think he recognized a sign when he saw one.

"Michael."