Sharing Dean Winchester hadn't lasted very long, naturally.

"MINE!" Castiel screeched, his tiny hands firmly wrapped around Dean Winchester's waist.

"No, Dean's MINE!" Michael shot back, tugging on the doll's legs. "Dad said so!"

"MIIIIINNEE!!!!!" Castiel shrieked again. He wasn't letting Dean go without a fight, no matter how small he was compared to Michael.

But now, Dean wasn't the only one being fought over, either.

"AAAAAAH!!!! GET OFF ME YOU DEMON SPIDER MONKEY!!!" Lucifer yelled out as Gabriel clung to his brother's hair with one fist, and Sam Winchester with the other. "Dad said you're too immature for the Winchesters!"

"But he's pretty!!!" Gabriel declared.

"If you want pretty, go play with one of Hannah's Ken dolls!" Lucifer threw his brother off him, snatched up Sam, and walked away happily. Gabriel scowled at his brother's back.

"You'll pay for that one." He swore.

"MINE! MY DEAN!" Castiel yelled again as Michael continued to pull on the doll.

"STOP IT!" Anna screeched at them. "You're gonna break him!"

"Then tell Castiel to LET GO!" Michael ordered.

"NEVER! YOU DON'T TREAT HIM RIGHT!" Castiel declared. Anna grabbed at the doll, managing to get ahold of one of its arms. She pulled at it, and instead of tugging Dean away from her brothers, the arm popped off.

Castiel let out a scream, like someone had just ripped off his own arm. Michael released the doll, rolling his eyes.

"He's broken." Michael said. "He's useless now." Anna frowned, handing Castiel the arm as he clutched the doll tightly to his chest, crying.

"I'm sorry, Cassie." She insisted. "I didn't mean to break him." Castiel sniffled, not listening to her.

"It's okay, Dean." He whispered to the doll. "I'll fix you."

So, while Gabriel jumped from a ceiling fan and tackled Lucifer to the ground to 'save his Winchester,' Castiel silently worked at a table, using a mixture of duct tape and superglue to successfully repair Dean back to normal.

Chuck in the mean time, was sitting in the only space in the house he got any privacy. His own bedroom.

The room was more of a disaster then half his kid's rooms, and that was saying something. Crumpled papers and dirty clothes littered the floor. The room had too much furniture in it to begin with, seeing as Chuck had just moved all his stuff in here when he'd had to give up his office so that the kids would all have a room to sleep in. A bookcase was shoved next to a dresser, and a desk, which Chuck sat at now, was wedged in the corner.

Chuck sat at the desk, staring at his computer screen while listening to all of his children run wild around the house, screaming and fighting, always fighting....

Amara had warned him not to take all of the kids in, but Chuck couldn't help it. From Lucifer to Hannah, these were his kids. They were his responsibility.

And they made writing an award winning novel very, very difficult.

Chuck's brain was so fried with trying to keep up with seven young children that he had no idea what to write his next book about.

But maybe that was an idea in itself. He could write about his kids! With Lucifer, Gabriel, Michael, Anna, Hannah, Castiel and Balthazar, he had hundreds of stories he could turn into a book.

Perfect. Now all he needed was for it to be quiet enough for him to write.

Another scream echoed from downstairs and Chuck groaned. There was no way he could write in this house. Not with the seven deadly sins running around.

So he picked up the phone and speed dialed for help.

"Hey Amara, you busy?" He asked.

"No." His sister insisted.

"Could you do me a HUGE favor?"

"How long am I babysitting for and how many children are present?" She questioned.

"Long enough for me to plan out a book so my editor doesn't murder me, and as far as I know, all seven kids are still at home."  A door slammed, and Chuck leaned out his window. "Make that six- I think Balthazar just ran out to go play in traffic."

"Wonderful. I'll be right over."

"You are a saint, sister."

"You owe me."

"I owe you a universe at this point."

"You do. And I will collect."