Oh God. OhGodOhGodOhGod.

Oh, Hello internet.

Ok, so this is my first cross-over fic, and I had previously thought all crossover fics were ridiculous and pointless and weird and…

And now I'm writing one.

Yes, God (or gods, no judging), strike me down, I'm a hypocrite.

I was reading this fanfic by Asilda (best. story. EVER.) about a crossover from Percy Jackson and the Olympians and The Kane chronicles (that I have never read, but have to now, thanks to that fic) about how Nico became Anubis's host and there was this battle and a stone heart and Percy in his epicness, and, and, and…

And it was awesome.

And then Asilda wrote this other cross over with Percy Jackson and some other series I've never read (less inclined to read that one, but it was so well done that I didn't really have to anyway) and it really inspired me. Only problem was, it inspired me to write a crossover, and now I'm officially a hypocrite.

Yes, you may throw stones at me, I deserve it.

Any-hoo, this writer, Asilda, is officially my favorite person/writer (ok, tied with CP Coulter who is equally god-like in my eyes) because they obviously love Nico di Angelo as much as I do, and writes these wonderfully awesome stories that are fabulous on their own right, despite the fact a lot of them center around my fav character (three guesses who).

Credit for the plot of the story goes to Asilda, but they only posted one chapter of this then either gave up on it or is taking a freakin' LONG time to update, and it's killing me. Therefore, I write my own version so I don't die of suspense.

Oh, and not to mention I have never once read a Supernatural fic much less WRITE ONE myself, so, throw stones for being a hypocrite, not for my suck-y portrayal of Supernatural characters…

Wow, long A/N.

Enjoy!

"Damn it! Stupid, bloody, god forsaken-!"

"Dean, shut up." Sam hissed, as his brother started cursing under his breath at the tree root that had tripped him.

"You shut up! Why the hell are we out here in the middle of who-gives-a-crap?"

Sam didn't respond, leaving his brother cursing on the ground as he moved onward, making their way through the forest. Dean knew very well that taxis and cars were bring thrown off the road near the local strawberry farm in this country side outside of New York city, and they'd come to investigate. No one had ever actually seen the strawberry farm, which miraculously was still selling its goods to local restaurants even now, in the middle of winter.

Stranger still, in Sam's research, the farm was called the Delphi Strawberry Service and he was almost certain the name Delphi was associated with a type of spirit that lead it's host to start spouting out prophecies. It was old stuff, way back to Ancient Greece even, right up there with the legends of Hercules and the Greek Gods, which made the Winchester brother a tad nervous, but he doubted it was anything major.

I mean, seriously, they might just even find out the real reason people used to believe in the Greek Gods—the Olympians or whatever. It was probably just a bunch of demons that possessed normal people and pretended to be gods, and the uneducated people of way back when had bowed down and built statues in their honor. Something practically like that, not real gods.

If anything, Castiel had proved to them with his irrational faith in the God (though, he was an angel of the lord, so they didn't exactly hold it against him)that the workings of one god—if he existed, and only if, something they still hadn't proven—and Lucifer and all the angels/demons crawling around accounted for 99% of all the shit that ever happened and people claim to be something stupid like aliens or sasquatch. The gods of old being one of them.

The longer he trudged through these woods— Dean still cursing behind him about being out in the middle of the night in winter sniffing around the woods around the Delphi Strawberry Farm (WHICH, they might point out, they still couldn't find for some unknown reason)— his mind filling up with the images of the Ancient Greek culture from his research, the more he started to think it was just demons mucking about in the days of early civilization. He preoccupied himself trying to figure out how a demon would get itself classified as the Goddess of Love, when something hit him in the back of the head—hard.

Dean hit the dirt beside him, and he knew whatever hit him got his brother too.

His instincts took over and he was on his feet with a lurch forward, his shotgun full of rock salt whipping around, the safely clicking off simultaneously, and he aimed it defensively behind him.

He'd expected a ghost, bloody and gaunt running at him; a zombie, decaying and falling apart limping towards him; a vampire, baring its teeth and pouncing; perhaps even an angel smirking at him with the you-cannot-comprehend-how-stupid-and-pathetic-you-pawns-are-right-now smile that he hated so much, or even a demon with solid black eyes with their I'm-gonna-own-you-right-now sadistic, wild looks, but it wasn't any of that.

He did NOT expect a little boy with wide, teary eyes staring rather deadened at them.

"What the hell?!" Dean gasped, glancing at Sam as if to confirm he was seeing the same thing. Sam lowered his gun by an inch, but kept his guard up. A lot of monsters could take the form of children, he couldn't just fall for it, that was a rookie mistake.

"Just shoot me already…" The boy murmured, tears slipping from his eyes as the brothers just stared at him. "I hit you with rocks, why didn't you…?" His bottom lip jut out and trembled, his eyes begging Sam to pull the trigger.

He dropped the gun on the ground immediately.

"Wha- Sammy! Pick the gun up!" Dean snapped, pointed his own gun at the boy a bit more fiercely as if to reaffirm that the kid still had a gun on him even though one brother had given up.

"No, Dean, he's not a monster."Sam snapped back, grabbing the barrel of his brother's gun and forcing it to point it at the ground.

Dean looked startled and glared at Sam. "What are you doing?! Keep your guard up you idiot! This is no time for being a pussy and getting soft the minute some monster takes the shape of a little-!"

"Woah, woah, where are you going?!" Sam ditched his brother and leapt towards the boy who had started to walk away into the forest. He grabbed his small shoulder to turn him around, but the boy reacted violently, wrenching away and skittering back a few steps.

"Get off me!' He cried, tears welling up in his eyes again. "Just leave me alone!"

"Sammy, get back! He's not-"

"He's human, Dean!" Sam exploded, not quite knowing how he knew, but he knew. "He's human, and like, eight or something, and he just asked us to kill him! You're just gonna let him walk away into the forest with no coat or anything in the middle of winter?!"

The boy tried to turn and get away again, but Sam grabbed his shoulder.

"STIO ZIATTO! COMPAREDI IDOITED NIE DI CEVISIO DINE MIACTIS!" The boy screamed at the top of his lungs in what sounded like Italian, fighting violently to get away, but even though he was ten times stronger than Sam had judged him to be, he was still a little boy and Sam was still a man, and restrained him easily. Tears were falling fast now, and he gave a final sob before collapsing down into the snow.

Dean watched this with some sort of shock/horrified/uncomfortable/awkward expression, obviously worried about the kid, but utterly out of his element on what to do. If anything though, he now knew the kid was definitely human.

"Come on, kid, calm down, we're not gonna hurt you, uh…" Dean said gruffly, shifting uncomfortably.

"What's your name?" Sam asked gently, still holding the kid's shoulders as he sobbed into the snow, utterly defeated, heart-wrenching sobs.

"N-Nico di Angelo." He muttered between cries and fell silent.

"Any reason you're wandering around in the middle of nowhere, at night, in December?" Dean said, not exactly nicely, and Sam shot him a could-you-be-any-more-of-a-callous-jerk-right-now? look.

"She's dead…" He sobbed, and the brothers exchanged suddenly worried looks.

"Who? Your mom?" Sam asked gently getting uncomfortable now too. If this kid's mom had died under supernatural circumstances, she might still be around, and if they have to exercise her… well, he didn't like the idea of this kid being around.

"N-no. B-Bianca, my s-s-sister…" He choked out. "H-he promised he'd keep her safe!" He spat out that last part angrily, obviously blaming this "him" for her death.

"Do you have any family nearby? Maybe an aunt, or grandparent—"

"They're dead." The boy said, suddenly coldly. He stopped shaking and wrenched his shoulders away from Sam again, but didn't move to get up from where he was kneeling on the ground in the snow.

Great, an orphan. Social services or leave him to the streets? THOSE are some options right there… this just got a lot more complicated.

"How old was your sister?" He tried to get the boy to open up some more, but he just kept, well, glaring at the ground, his tears and sadness forgotten. Sam noticed he looked distinctly Italian—which would explain the earlier outburst—but he was so pale, or maybe it was the moonlight, but he was like a ghost. And Sam had seen plenty of ghosts and corpses to know how pale they could get, this boy—Nico—was possibly paler than even them. It didn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary for him though, not because of the cold or the tears, maybe he was just that freakishly pale.

Nico frowned. "Thirteen, I think." He frowned deeper, as if he had a headache.

"You think?" Dean said incredulously, and Sam shot him another warning look. The older brother wisely shut up (for once) knowing he was out of his league with kids.

"I… I've no memories from beyond a few weeks ago." He murmured under his breath. "I… I don't… I was in a hotel, but Bianca, but…" He shook his head, his eyes snapping up and focusing on the brothers, as if for the first time. "Who are you?" He demanded, and it was full of authority and eight-year old should not have.

"Woah, take it easy!" Sam raised his hands at the boy's accusatory glare. "I'm Sam, that's Dean, and we're brothers. We were just sniffing around here because we heard some strange things going on."

"Strange…" He seemed confused, his impossibly dark eyes flitting between brothers distrustfully.

Sam was banking heavily on the fact the kid was too young to understand it, so he told him the half truth. "We heard a lot of taxis get thrown off the road nearby, sometimes they're trashed and not by hitting a tree. Plus, there's this company called the Delphi Strawberry Service, that no one's heard of when we talk to them, and…" He trailed off, suddenly seeing the flash of recognition in Nico's eyes.

"You know it?" Dean leaned forward, seeing it too.

"I, uh… no." The boy pursed his lips tightly, giving the brothers wide, too-innocent eyes.

Sam and Dean exchanged a loaded look.

0000000000000

"Hungry, aren't you?" Dean commented, as Nico finished off and entire burger, two plates of fries, four sodas, and a milk shake in the diner they'd dragged him to. As usual, Nico didn't respond in any way.

"Come on kid!" Dean nearly shouted in exasperation. "We know you know something! Spill!"

"You can trust us," Sam reassured the boy, who simply leaned back into the plastic cushion of the booth and looked blankly at the tile floor, avoiding their eyes. "Did you see something that scared you? Something about the company that wasn't right? Like a man with black eyes or someone acting strange?"

Nico lifted his eyes and cocked his head in confusion at Sam.

"Is it even a company at all, or is it a front?" Dean threw out there, and Nico's eyes flashed to him for a second, wide with fear, before glaring at the floor again. "That's it, isn't it!?" Dean sat up, excited. "It's a front! Now all we have to do is find a way in, maybe pose as one of their truck delivery guys on the next export trip-"

Nico was staring at him again as if he was crazy. "Why do you want in there?" He asked quietly, and Dean came up short.

"Something bad's happening in there, we want to stop it." Sam told him gently, but was surprised when the boy was already shaking his head.

"You can't stop it. It's not bad for everyone, just for me…" He sighed sadly, glaring out the window. "Everyone else loves it there. They call it home. But they think I'm a freak… even Bianca didn't stay with me…" He looked on the verge of tears again, and Sam tried to lean over to put a hand on his shoulder, but the kid just glared daggers at him, resulting in the older man instantly leaning away. Something about his glare was unnerving.

"You ran away from there?" Dean confirmed, and Nico shot him a glare as well. Sam would have commented at his older brother's scared-y cat behavior as he jumped and also leaned away, if he hadn't just done the same thing three seconds earlier.

The boy hesitated, measuring up the brothers with eyes that looked old and weathered in the delicate young face, with a surprising amount of intelligence behind them that normal children shouldn't have.

"It's a sanctuary." He finally said. "A safe place for… for people like me." He said the last part like he didn't believe it one bit. "You won't be able to even find it, mortals can't. You can look forever, and you won't ever get close. Stop looking, there's nothing bad going on, and even if there were, you are the last people on earth who could stop it." That was the most they'd heard him talk, and what he said went against everything they stood for.

"Sorry kid, we're not going to give up cuz some random eight year old told us we've nothing to worry about. We've got a job to do, and we do it despite several warnings a day to butt out, so, no, we'll be looking into this." Dean told the kid, shifting as Nico stared at him again, like he was looking right through him, yet seeing more than anyone else ever could.

"Whatever." The kid looked away, glaring at the floor again, effectively ending that conversation.

Sam gave Dean a look that said, now what?

"Uh… give him some cash and stick him in a hotel room 'till this job's over?" Dean suggested unhelpfully, whispering so Nico wouldn't be able to hear them.

"That is the worse idea I've ever heard." Sam dead-panned back, just as quiet.

"Hey! I'm not good with kids, what the hell are we supposed to do with him? Call the cops? Not while we're investigating this Delphi thing, it'll draw too much attention to us. After it's over, we'll call the social people, right?"

"That's an equally terrible idea," Sam snapped back. "We can't hand him over to the government, who knows-!"

"Woah! Where's he go?" Dean suddenly said at slightly louder than normal volume, and indeed, Nico's seat was empty, the door to the diner just closing.

The brothers shot out of their seats and ran to the door—with a waitress running after them with a bill that they promptly ignored—after the kid, but ended up on an empty sidewalk on an even emptier town street.

"Woah! Where's he go!?" Dean repeated, this time in confusion rather than alarm.

"He must've really booked it… I don't see any alleys to hide in…" Sam said uncertainly, trying to think not like a ghost or a monster with supernatural means of getting away, but like a kid running from adults. Where would he hide?

"Sir? Sir! The bill?" The waitress was standing in the doorway, relived they didn't try and ditch paying as they stood there flabbergasted at the empty street.

Dean huffed. "We'll find him. They usually show up sooner or later. He can't have gotten far." He reassured a worried-looking Sam as he turned back to pay the waitress.

"Yeah…" Sam said uncertainly. "Ok…"