DCBB fic - Are You There, Dean Winchester? It's Me ... God - PART EIGHT
MASTERPOST
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PART EIGHT
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~~~DEAN~~~
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Dean yawned and stretched immediately upon waking. He was sinking into something warm and comfortable, and really couldn’t be bothered to move.
“Dean.”
The voice wasn’t immediately recognizable, so he chose to ignore it and snuggled deeper into the softness surrounding him.
“Dean. Come on, Sleeping Beauty, time to wake up.”
Okay … now the voice did sound a little familiar … but who the hell was it? Blearily, Dean opened his eyes and was instantly overcome by white. Blinding white. Everywhere he could see. He groaned and slowly pushed himself up to a seated position. There was a massive white, plush cushion beneath him. Dean closed his eyes against the brightness and rubbed the sleep out of them with both hands.
“Good morning, sunshine.”
He grunted his dissatisfaction at being brought back to consciousness before opening his eyes once more. Glancing down at himself, Dean realized that even he was in all white. A soft white cotton v-neck shirt and a pair of loose white pajama pants. His feet were bare, though, and he wiggled his toes at himself for a few seconds. There was a soft, nervous chuckle from behind him and Dean turned to find its source.
The t-shirt and the boxers and the bathrobe were all familiar, although this time they were all pure white. It took Dean a couple seconds more to process the scruffy face and the lopsided smile, because fuck, it had been years now since he’d seen the little dude, hadn’t it?
“Chuck?”
His voice was harsh and gravelly with disuse, but that didn’t make much sense did it? Because why would his voice be suffering from disuse? In fact, now that you get down to it, where the fuck was he? And what was with all the damn white, anyway? And what the fuck was Chuck doing here?
It all came slamming back at once. The Grace and the pain and the little moth and Castiel and Sam and the angels and he was supposed to go BOOM wasn’t he? Holy fuck. Holy FUCK. Dean closed his eyes and tried to feel the Grace inside of him. It was still there, just a little bit … just a little power, but the consciousness … the little moth was gone. That wasn’t all though … Cas … Cas’ Grace was gone as well. Completely. Dean felt suddenly bereft.
He returned his gaze to the smaller man standing a few yards away from him, wondering at his presence, but then Chuck gave a sheepish shrug and a guilty smile and suddenly Dean knew. He knew.
“You SONUVABITCH!”
Dean flew to his feet and tried to stalk towards Chuck, but his knees gave way after only a couple steps. It didn’t stop his mouth.
“The whole time? The WHOLE FUCKING TIME, CHUCK!?”
Chuck glanced down to fiddle with the hem of his bathrobe anxiously.
“You were right THERE for all of it! For Cas looking for you, and everyone dying, and you could have stopped it all! Sam and the cage and Michael and Lilith and FUCK!! EVERYTHING! You could have stopped EVERYTHING! You were right fucking THERE! The WHOLE TIME!”
Chuck just nodded once and turned to meet Dean’s accusing gaze.
“I understand that you’re angry, Dean, but there are things that you don’t understand. Rules. Once a plan is put in place even I can’t change it.”
“Bullshit.”
Dean finally managed to lift himself somewhat steadily to his feet. Before him Chuck waved his hands frantically in Dean’s direction.
“No, I’m serious. These plans are eons old. Practically set in stone. The best I can do is tweak them a little. Like getting you and Sam away from Lucifer’s rising, and bringing Castiel back to life twice. Technically that was all I could do at the time.”
“So you’re saying that even GOD can’t deviate from GOD’s Plan? I still gotta call bullshit on that, Chuck.”
The smaller man sighed.
“I know … it’s … look … I-”
Dean rubbed his hands down his face, suddenly feeling ten times his age.
“So what was this, then? What was this plan? Give me a little bit of your Grace and clean house?”
Chuck shrugged his shoulders and dropped his hands to his sides.
“Well … basically … yes.”
A soft sob broke free from Dean’s lips.
“So, you just needed me to clean up for you, and then you were going to let me burn away into nothing?”
Chuck made a small sound of disbelief under his breath and crossed his arms tightly across his chest.
“Dean, you do realize we’re having a conversation right now, don’t you? You haven’t burnt away to nothingness … you’re right HERE. And I intend to send you back.”
That startled Dean enough that he swayed slightly on his feet.
“You … you do?”
The smaller man … or God, Dean supposed, shook his head once and stepped up closer to the hunter.
“I know this was all kind of sudden, and out of the blue, but I considered every option. This civil war was never part of any of my plans, and Raphael and the others had taken it too far. I had hoped that I could leave the governing of Heaven to my children, but recent events proved me wrong. So I figured it was time to come out of retirement.
The only problem was that I didn’t have a Hand of God to do what I needed to be done. I can’t do these things directly, you see, there has to be something separate from me. A plague, a flood, a storm … the Hand of God, but I couldn’t really trust just any of my children under the recent circumstances, could I? Do you understand?”
Dean nodded his head, a bit shakily.
“So … you gave me the job then?”
Chuck shrugged a shoulder.
“I had intended to give Castiel the honor, but then I realized … if I did … there would be no more Castiel.”
“What … what do you mean?”
A heavy weight continued to grow in Dean’s chest as the conversation progressed.
“I mean, if an angel takes the Grace of God within themselves, that angel would be forever changed. If I had chosen Castiel … he would never be the same again, and I just couldn’t do that. To him. Or to you.”
Dean nodded and dropped his gaze to his bare feet.
“So … I did okay, then? I did what you wanted? I made the right decision?”
Chuck sighed happily.
“Yes, Dean. You were perfect. Now I’m going to finish it. I’ll set it all to rights.”
“But … but I destroyed all those angels. Isn’t that bad?”
“No. It’s fine. I’m going to bring them all back. They’ll have learned their lesson by now, and if they haven’t … then I’ll deal with that, too.”
Dean brought a hand to his chest. He wouldn’t have imagined it days ago, but he missed feeling that little beat of wings between his ribs, and the loss of Castiel’s Grace left him feeling raw and empty. Chuck could either read his mind, or it was apparently written across his face, because the deity began to speak before Dean could even gather his thoughts into words.
“I’m sorry about Castiel’s Grace. I had to remake you, just as he had done before. All his Grace was burned away when you accomplished your task. I remade you with my own.”
Dean’s eyes snapped up to meet Chuck’s then.
“But … your Grace was killing me. How can … I mean … isn’t it…”
Chuck put his hands forward in a placating gesture.
“No, no it’s fine. Trust me. I know what I’m doing. There will be differences, though. You’ll see. You’ll feel things a different way, see them a different way, sometimes be able to do things you couldn’t before. But it isn’t a danger to you, not in this way, not like before.”
There were a couple moments of uncomfortable silence as Dean processed this new information, and Chuck started to fidget nervously before him. It was such a drunken-prophet-Chuck action that for a moment Dean wondered if this was all a really fucked up dream.
“It’s not. It’s not a dream.”
He supposed he really shouldn’t be shocked that God could read his thoughts, so Dean just tilted his head in acknowledgement.
“I … I do have something to tell you that you’re not going to like, though, Dean.”
That heavy weight in his chest increased tenfold.
“What is it?”
Chuck chewed on his bottom lip a few seconds before speaking.
“I have to punish Castiel for his rebellion.”
It took a minute to process the words, but then absolute fury bubbled up into Dean’s throat.
“You’re fucking kidding me, Chuck.”
The man across from him sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead wearily. He couldn’t quite meet Dean’s eyes, and being the all powerful Creator that he was so intoned to be … it just pissed Dean off all the more.
“I understand that Castiel is your friend, but you have to understand that no matter what the issue was … he disobeyed direct orders from his superiors and went against everything he was created to believe and uphold. If I go up there to fix things … if I want to reign in all the radicals and satisfy all the hypocrites … then Cas has to be reprimanded. He has to be punished.”
Dean could practically feel himself bristling like a cat rubbed the wrong way. The complete injustice of the entire situation made him forget, just for a second, exactly who he was having this argument with.
“Bullshit! Cas is the only reason you still have a fucking world to mess with! If he hadn’t gone against your war mongering, dickless hordes there would be nothing left right now! You can’t do this, you chickenshit son of a bitch!”
There was a crackle in the atmosphere, as if someone had just accidentally jammed one too many plugs into an outlet … and the next second Dean was on his knees gasping for air against the pain. For all intents and purposes, his ribcage appeared to be compacting inside his chest and squeezing the life out of him. Not a lovely feeling to say the least, but it did remind him that perhaps name calling and angry flailing at the All Mighty was not the wisest of his decisions lately.
Through the haze he could feel Chuck kneel before him. The smaller man placed both his hands on either side of Dean’s face, and just that quickly all the pain was gone and the hunter could breathe once more. When he focused and looked into Chuck’s big, sad eyes … he just couldn’t bring himself to fear the ex-prophet. All he could see before him was his friend. Just … his friend. Chuck.
“I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t mean to do that. You just … hurt my feelings for a second.”
Dean couldn’t help himself. He scoffed.
“Seriously? Fuck you.”
He had tried for affronted and hostile … but the words had barely squeaked out. Sounding defeated and broken. Chuck sighed and leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on Dean’s forehead. Like a blessing.
“Dean, please let me try to explain.”
The lips that moved against his skin were chapped and warm. He wanted to push the man away from him and demand to be returned to the cabin. And Sam. And Cas. And normality. Instead he could only sit frozen and think to himself … what, is there no Chapstick in the pockets of the house robe of the Lord? Chuck leaned back to rest on his haunches, but didn’t release Dean’s face from his grasp.
“If I could help this, or avoid it, I would in a second. But I cannot regain control of the Heavenly Hosts when a mere soldier from the garrison rebelled against Heaven, and has no reprimand taken against him. I just … can’t. Once they realize that I’ve shown favoritism to Castiel on more than one occasion … it will be difficult to stop them from trying to rip all that he has become away from him.”
Dean forced himself to stay calm and breathe deeply.
“Favoritism?”
Chuck nodded solemnly.
“How many of my children do you think I’ve brought back from destruction not once, but twice? Not to mention he’s had a practically meteoric rise in rank and power. That doesn’t sit well with all his brothers and sisters that have held back and simply done as they were told. He was a soldier. It was not his place to question or challenge.”
Dean swallowed thickly with a sudden case of nerves, but this was a subject he just couldn’t seem to keep his big mouth shut about. Of course it had absolutely nothing to do with the recent events. Absolutely nothing. Obviously. Hello river in Egypt. How YOU doin’?
“Chuck … you know why he had to do all that. Stuff was corrupt up there. He’s been working so hard to put things back in order. To do what he thought you would want him to do. He’s driving himself to the brink and having to kill family … all for you. How can you punish him for that?”
The former prophet smiled faintly and shook his head slightly.
“Honestly … the two of you … so blind. I would say a ‘match made in Heaven’ but that would just sound pompous and silly, wouldn’t it?”
It was one thing to have your own private thoughts (and the KISS, Jesus) on the strange tension with Castiel that had been a constant part of Dean’s life lately, but to have God … freaking GOD … just put the words out there in the open like that. Made a man want to find the nearest cliff and channel his inner lemming. He could feel his face flushing hotly beneath the small hands framing it, but he would bite his damn fool tongue off before he responded in any way to that particular comment. Chuck seemed to read it all in his expression, so he simply grinned a little wider and moved away from the topic.
“I’m going to let you in on a couple secrets, Dean. Please try to listen closely and don’t clam up that stubborn, hard head of yours, okay?”
Dean swallowed audibly and nodded his stubborn, hard head. Chuck released his face and shifted around until he was sitting with this legs crossed on the floor. The hunter blinked once or twice then moved to copy the preferred sitting style of the All Mighty. Who was he to argue? It startled him a little when, after he was settled, Chuck scooted forward until their knees were touching.
“First, there’s something you desperately need to understand … but you probably won’t for a while. The punishment that Castiel is going to receive … really isn’t punishment at all. Not for him, anyway. His brothers and sisters will see it as a terrible, awful, hideous thing … but that’s what I NEED them to see. He will be upset at first. Angry and hurt. However, when he thinks about it, he’s going to realize that I’m giving him exactly what he wants.
“Second, and this is very important … I need to know you will take responsibility for the things you have done.”
Something heavy and painful settled itself in Dean’s gut, but this time he was pretty sure that Chuck had nothing to do with it. His voice sounded strangled coming out of his lips.
“What … what I have done?”
A deep intensity sparked inside the deity’s eyes, and suddenly it wasn’t a far stretch of the imagination to think of this small man as all powerful and all knowing. To think of the things he’d seen and done. The galaxies of knowledge that reflected in those orbs. Dean lost himself for a second before Chuck spoke and jarred him out of his stupor.
“You have turned an Angel of Heaven away from his Father to worship another.”
Dean balked in protest, but was instantly silenced by a finger pressed to his lips.
“No, Dean. I beget my children to love all of my creations, but to always love and obey me above all else. It’s kind of egotistical and self-absorbed, I know … but I was very different back then. The thing is … Castiel loves me. He loves all my creations. He loves his family and his purpose and his calling.”
Chuck’s hands were abruptly grasping Dean’s face once more, and pulling himself close into the larger man’s personal space. Obvious now, where Cas got it from.
“It’s just that now … he loves you more.”
A fist seemed to clench around the heart beating in Dean’s chest, and its twin seemed to be clasping his throat. He shook his head, almost imperceptibly, within Chuck’s hands. Whether it was in denial, or disbelief, or just plain shock … he wasn’t sure.
“It’s true, Dean. It’s what makes Cas so special. He grew and changed and learned independence. He challenged his very purpose because it felt wrong. He has learned to love something, not because of his duty or obligation … but just because he, himself … loved it. Do you understand how amazing that is? As a father I am so proud I can barely keep it bottled inside, but as The Father I am supposed to be angry and vengeful.
“Castiel was once an Angel of the Lord in Heaven … but now he’s an Angel of Dean Winchester on Earth. He is yours, just as he was once mine. So I need you to accept accountability for what you have done. I need you to take responsibility for your angel, so I don’t have to BE the vengeful Father and smite him from existence. Do you understand?”
Just like that, he was released and Chuck was surging to his feet and walking slowly away in the glaring whiteness of nothing. Dean still couldn’t bring himself to speak. His voice was just gone. Strangled by emotions and fear.
“Castiel will be temporarily banished from Heaven.”
Dean clenched his eyes closed so tightly sparks of light began burst in the darkness.
“He will retain all his powers and abilities, because Heaven knows you Winchesters need all the help you can get.”
Chuck’s voice seemed further away, but still Dean didn’t open his eyes, and great choking gasps of air seemed to be making his body tremble. Cas. This will destroy Cas.
“He will remain on Earth, with you, until your time has come and your story has ended. At the moment of your death … your true death … he will be released to return to his rightful place with me.”
Tears tracked down his face, but he chose not to wipe them away and instead climbed to his feet awkwardly like a toddler. Once again opening his eyes to the blinding white surrounding him, he could make out Chuck slowly walking away into the nothing. His voice croaked when it finally surged past the large lump in his throat.
“Wait! Chuck, wait!”
The ex-prophet paused, and turned back to face him. The look on his face was cold and stony. It didn’t suit him at all.
“Yes, Dean?”
Knees feeling like Jello beneath him, he managed to walk as quickly as possible to catch up with the smaller man.
“Please. Please can I ask you something and you tell me the truth? I think after all of this … I deserve a couple truths.”
Chuck heaved a weary sigh, but nodded his head in acceptance. Dean took it as his clearance to ask away.
“When … when we … where are me and Sammy going? You know? When … I mean, are we heading up or down after all this is over?”
Laughter peeled through the emptiness around them. It wasn’t cruel or cold, or even mocking. More like startled, but filled with warmth. The smile on Chuck’s face was back, and it was so full of something close to fondness, Dean found his nerves melting away.
“Really, Dean? You have to ask that?”
When Dean simply nodded, Chuck stepped forward and placed his hands gently on the hunter’s shoulders.
“Dean Winchester. My friend. Your name is known by all the Angels in Heaven and all the Demons in Hell. You are recognized by gods and monsters alike. You are a dear friend of the King of Kings. You and your brother? Are the stuff of legends … and legends are destined for the stars.”
Dean swallowed thickly, but couldn’t bring himself to say anything. The deity before him suddenly wrapped his smaller frame around him in a crushing hug. When he stepped back, there were tears glistening in the corner of his eyes. And if they kind of glowed like a million galaxies were hidden within … well, Dean wasn’t going to say anything.
“I promise you, Dean, that neither you nor your brother will ever see Hell again. When you each pass from the mortal realm, Castiel will carry you to Heaven himself. This I swear.”
Then Chuck turned away and began to fade into the white behind him.
“And when you get up there … you might want to check out this little dive of a place on the fringes of Heaven. Good bar. Nice people. All of them pretty big fans of yours.”
A wink and a grin, and the Almighty Creator was gone.
PART NINE
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PART EIGHT
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~~~DEAN~~~
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Dean yawned and stretched immediately upon waking. He was sinking into something warm and comfortable, and really couldn’t be bothered to move.
“Dean.”
The voice wasn’t immediately recognizable, so he chose to ignore it and snuggled deeper into the softness surrounding him.
“Dean. Come on, Sleeping Beauty, time to wake up.”
Okay … now the voice did sound a little familiar … but who the hell was it? Blearily, Dean opened his eyes and was instantly overcome by white. Blinding white. Everywhere he could see. He groaned and slowly pushed himself up to a seated position. There was a massive white, plush cushion beneath him. Dean closed his eyes against the brightness and rubbed the sleep out of them with both hands.
“Good morning, sunshine.”
He grunted his dissatisfaction at being brought back to consciousness before opening his eyes once more. Glancing down at himself, Dean realized that even he was in all white. A soft white cotton v-neck shirt and a pair of loose white pajama pants. His feet were bare, though, and he wiggled his toes at himself for a few seconds. There was a soft, nervous chuckle from behind him and Dean turned to find its source.
The t-shirt and the boxers and the bathrobe were all familiar, although this time they were all pure white. It took Dean a couple seconds more to process the scruffy face and the lopsided smile, because fuck, it had been years now since he’d seen the little dude, hadn’t it?
“Chuck?”
His voice was harsh and gravelly with disuse, but that didn’t make much sense did it? Because why would his voice be suffering from disuse? In fact, now that you get down to it, where the fuck was he? And what was with all the damn white, anyway? And what the fuck was Chuck doing here?
It all came slamming back at once. The Grace and the pain and the little moth and Castiel and Sam and the angels and he was supposed to go BOOM wasn’t he? Holy fuck. Holy FUCK. Dean closed his eyes and tried to feel the Grace inside of him. It was still there, just a little bit … just a little power, but the consciousness … the little moth was gone. That wasn’t all though … Cas … Cas’ Grace was gone as well. Completely. Dean felt suddenly bereft.
He returned his gaze to the smaller man standing a few yards away from him, wondering at his presence, but then Chuck gave a sheepish shrug and a guilty smile and suddenly Dean knew. He knew.
“You SONUVABITCH!”
Dean flew to his feet and tried to stalk towards Chuck, but his knees gave way after only a couple steps. It didn’t stop his mouth.
“The whole time? The WHOLE FUCKING TIME, CHUCK!?”
Chuck glanced down to fiddle with the hem of his bathrobe anxiously.
“You were right THERE for all of it! For Cas looking for you, and everyone dying, and you could have stopped it all! Sam and the cage and Michael and Lilith and FUCK!! EVERYTHING! You could have stopped EVERYTHING! You were right fucking THERE! The WHOLE TIME!”
Chuck just nodded once and turned to meet Dean’s accusing gaze.
“I understand that you’re angry, Dean, but there are things that you don’t understand. Rules. Once a plan is put in place even I can’t change it.”
“Bullshit.”
Dean finally managed to lift himself somewhat steadily to his feet. Before him Chuck waved his hands frantically in Dean’s direction.
“No, I’m serious. These plans are eons old. Practically set in stone. The best I can do is tweak them a little. Like getting you and Sam away from Lucifer’s rising, and bringing Castiel back to life twice. Technically that was all I could do at the time.”
“So you’re saying that even GOD can’t deviate from GOD’s Plan? I still gotta call bullshit on that, Chuck.”
The smaller man sighed.
“I know … it’s … look … I-”
Dean rubbed his hands down his face, suddenly feeling ten times his age.
“So what was this, then? What was this plan? Give me a little bit of your Grace and clean house?”
Chuck shrugged his shoulders and dropped his hands to his sides.
“Well … basically … yes.”
A soft sob broke free from Dean’s lips.
“So, you just needed me to clean up for you, and then you were going to let me burn away into nothing?”
Chuck made a small sound of disbelief under his breath and crossed his arms tightly across his chest.
“Dean, you do realize we’re having a conversation right now, don’t you? You haven’t burnt away to nothingness … you’re right HERE. And I intend to send you back.”
That startled Dean enough that he swayed slightly on his feet.
“You … you do?”
The smaller man … or God, Dean supposed, shook his head once and stepped up closer to the hunter.
“I know this was all kind of sudden, and out of the blue, but I considered every option. This civil war was never part of any of my plans, and Raphael and the others had taken it too far. I had hoped that I could leave the governing of Heaven to my children, but recent events proved me wrong. So I figured it was time to come out of retirement.
The only problem was that I didn’t have a Hand of God to do what I needed to be done. I can’t do these things directly, you see, there has to be something separate from me. A plague, a flood, a storm … the Hand of God, but I couldn’t really trust just any of my children under the recent circumstances, could I? Do you understand?”
Dean nodded his head, a bit shakily.
“So … you gave me the job then?”
Chuck shrugged a shoulder.
“I had intended to give Castiel the honor, but then I realized … if I did … there would be no more Castiel.”
“What … what do you mean?”
A heavy weight continued to grow in Dean’s chest as the conversation progressed.
“I mean, if an angel takes the Grace of God within themselves, that angel would be forever changed. If I had chosen Castiel … he would never be the same again, and I just couldn’t do that. To him. Or to you.”
Dean nodded and dropped his gaze to his bare feet.
“So … I did okay, then? I did what you wanted? I made the right decision?”
Chuck sighed happily.
“Yes, Dean. You were perfect. Now I’m going to finish it. I’ll set it all to rights.”
“But … but I destroyed all those angels. Isn’t that bad?”
“No. It’s fine. I’m going to bring them all back. They’ll have learned their lesson by now, and if they haven’t … then I’ll deal with that, too.”
Dean brought a hand to his chest. He wouldn’t have imagined it days ago, but he missed feeling that little beat of wings between his ribs, and the loss of Castiel’s Grace left him feeling raw and empty. Chuck could either read his mind, or it was apparently written across his face, because the deity began to speak before Dean could even gather his thoughts into words.
“I’m sorry about Castiel’s Grace. I had to remake you, just as he had done before. All his Grace was burned away when you accomplished your task. I remade you with my own.”
Dean’s eyes snapped up to meet Chuck’s then.
“But … your Grace was killing me. How can … I mean … isn’t it…”
Chuck put his hands forward in a placating gesture.
“No, no it’s fine. Trust me. I know what I’m doing. There will be differences, though. You’ll see. You’ll feel things a different way, see them a different way, sometimes be able to do things you couldn’t before. But it isn’t a danger to you, not in this way, not like before.”
There were a couple moments of uncomfortable silence as Dean processed this new information, and Chuck started to fidget nervously before him. It was such a drunken-prophet-Chuck action that for a moment Dean wondered if this was all a really fucked up dream.
“It’s not. It’s not a dream.”
He supposed he really shouldn’t be shocked that God could read his thoughts, so Dean just tilted his head in acknowledgement.
“I … I do have something to tell you that you’re not going to like, though, Dean.”
That heavy weight in his chest increased tenfold.
“What is it?”
Chuck chewed on his bottom lip a few seconds before speaking.
“I have to punish Castiel for his rebellion.”
It took a minute to process the words, but then absolute fury bubbled up into Dean’s throat.
“You’re fucking kidding me, Chuck.”
The man across from him sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead wearily. He couldn’t quite meet Dean’s eyes, and being the all powerful Creator that he was so intoned to be … it just pissed Dean off all the more.
“I understand that Castiel is your friend, but you have to understand that no matter what the issue was … he disobeyed direct orders from his superiors and went against everything he was created to believe and uphold. If I go up there to fix things … if I want to reign in all the radicals and satisfy all the hypocrites … then Cas has to be reprimanded. He has to be punished.”
Dean could practically feel himself bristling like a cat rubbed the wrong way. The complete injustice of the entire situation made him forget, just for a second, exactly who he was having this argument with.
“Bullshit! Cas is the only reason you still have a fucking world to mess with! If he hadn’t gone against your war mongering, dickless hordes there would be nothing left right now! You can’t do this, you chickenshit son of a bitch!”
There was a crackle in the atmosphere, as if someone had just accidentally jammed one too many plugs into an outlet … and the next second Dean was on his knees gasping for air against the pain. For all intents and purposes, his ribcage appeared to be compacting inside his chest and squeezing the life out of him. Not a lovely feeling to say the least, but it did remind him that perhaps name calling and angry flailing at the All Mighty was not the wisest of his decisions lately.
Through the haze he could feel Chuck kneel before him. The smaller man placed both his hands on either side of Dean’s face, and just that quickly all the pain was gone and the hunter could breathe once more. When he focused and looked into Chuck’s big, sad eyes … he just couldn’t bring himself to fear the ex-prophet. All he could see before him was his friend. Just … his friend. Chuck.
“I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t mean to do that. You just … hurt my feelings for a second.”
Dean couldn’t help himself. He scoffed.
“Seriously? Fuck you.”
He had tried for affronted and hostile … but the words had barely squeaked out. Sounding defeated and broken. Chuck sighed and leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on Dean’s forehead. Like a blessing.
“Dean, please let me try to explain.”
The lips that moved against his skin were chapped and warm. He wanted to push the man away from him and demand to be returned to the cabin. And Sam. And Cas. And normality. Instead he could only sit frozen and think to himself … what, is there no Chapstick in the pockets of the house robe of the Lord? Chuck leaned back to rest on his haunches, but didn’t release Dean’s face from his grasp.
“If I could help this, or avoid it, I would in a second. But I cannot regain control of the Heavenly Hosts when a mere soldier from the garrison rebelled against Heaven, and has no reprimand taken against him. I just … can’t. Once they realize that I’ve shown favoritism to Castiel on more than one occasion … it will be difficult to stop them from trying to rip all that he has become away from him.”
Dean forced himself to stay calm and breathe deeply.
“Favoritism?”
Chuck nodded solemnly.
“How many of my children do you think I’ve brought back from destruction not once, but twice? Not to mention he’s had a practically meteoric rise in rank and power. That doesn’t sit well with all his brothers and sisters that have held back and simply done as they were told. He was a soldier. It was not his place to question or challenge.”
Dean swallowed thickly with a sudden case of nerves, but this was a subject he just couldn’t seem to keep his big mouth shut about. Of course it had absolutely nothing to do with the recent events. Absolutely nothing. Obviously. Hello river in Egypt. How YOU doin’?
“Chuck … you know why he had to do all that. Stuff was corrupt up there. He’s been working so hard to put things back in order. To do what he thought you would want him to do. He’s driving himself to the brink and having to kill family … all for you. How can you punish him for that?”
The former prophet smiled faintly and shook his head slightly.
“Honestly … the two of you … so blind. I would say a ‘match made in Heaven’ but that would just sound pompous and silly, wouldn’t it?”
It was one thing to have your own private thoughts (and the KISS, Jesus) on the strange tension with Castiel that had been a constant part of Dean’s life lately, but to have God … freaking GOD … just put the words out there in the open like that. Made a man want to find the nearest cliff and channel his inner lemming. He could feel his face flushing hotly beneath the small hands framing it, but he would bite his damn fool tongue off before he responded in any way to that particular comment. Chuck seemed to read it all in his expression, so he simply grinned a little wider and moved away from the topic.
“I’m going to let you in on a couple secrets, Dean. Please try to listen closely and don’t clam up that stubborn, hard head of yours, okay?”
Dean swallowed audibly and nodded his stubborn, hard head. Chuck released his face and shifted around until he was sitting with this legs crossed on the floor. The hunter blinked once or twice then moved to copy the preferred sitting style of the All Mighty. Who was he to argue? It startled him a little when, after he was settled, Chuck scooted forward until their knees were touching.
“First, there’s something you desperately need to understand … but you probably won’t for a while. The punishment that Castiel is going to receive … really isn’t punishment at all. Not for him, anyway. His brothers and sisters will see it as a terrible, awful, hideous thing … but that’s what I NEED them to see. He will be upset at first. Angry and hurt. However, when he thinks about it, he’s going to realize that I’m giving him exactly what he wants.
“Second, and this is very important … I need to know you will take responsibility for the things you have done.”
Something heavy and painful settled itself in Dean’s gut, but this time he was pretty sure that Chuck had nothing to do with it. His voice sounded strangled coming out of his lips.
“What … what I have done?”
A deep intensity sparked inside the deity’s eyes, and suddenly it wasn’t a far stretch of the imagination to think of this small man as all powerful and all knowing. To think of the things he’d seen and done. The galaxies of knowledge that reflected in those orbs. Dean lost himself for a second before Chuck spoke and jarred him out of his stupor.
“You have turned an Angel of Heaven away from his Father to worship another.”
Dean balked in protest, but was instantly silenced by a finger pressed to his lips.
“No, Dean. I beget my children to love all of my creations, but to always love and obey me above all else. It’s kind of egotistical and self-absorbed, I know … but I was very different back then. The thing is … Castiel loves me. He loves all my creations. He loves his family and his purpose and his calling.”
Chuck’s hands were abruptly grasping Dean’s face once more, and pulling himself close into the larger man’s personal space. Obvious now, where Cas got it from.
“It’s just that now … he loves you more.”
A fist seemed to clench around the heart beating in Dean’s chest, and its twin seemed to be clasping his throat. He shook his head, almost imperceptibly, within Chuck’s hands. Whether it was in denial, or disbelief, or just plain shock … he wasn’t sure.
“It’s true, Dean. It’s what makes Cas so special. He grew and changed and learned independence. He challenged his very purpose because it felt wrong. He has learned to love something, not because of his duty or obligation … but just because he, himself … loved it. Do you understand how amazing that is? As a father I am so proud I can barely keep it bottled inside, but as The Father I am supposed to be angry and vengeful.
“Castiel was once an Angel of the Lord in Heaven … but now he’s an Angel of Dean Winchester on Earth. He is yours, just as he was once mine. So I need you to accept accountability for what you have done. I need you to take responsibility for your angel, so I don’t have to BE the vengeful Father and smite him from existence. Do you understand?”
Just like that, he was released and Chuck was surging to his feet and walking slowly away in the glaring whiteness of nothing. Dean still couldn’t bring himself to speak. His voice was just gone. Strangled by emotions and fear.
“Castiel will be temporarily banished from Heaven.”
Dean clenched his eyes closed so tightly sparks of light began burst in the darkness.
“He will retain all his powers and abilities, because Heaven knows you Winchesters need all the help you can get.”
Chuck’s voice seemed further away, but still Dean didn’t open his eyes, and great choking gasps of air seemed to be making his body tremble. Cas. This will destroy Cas.
“He will remain on Earth, with you, until your time has come and your story has ended. At the moment of your death … your true death … he will be released to return to his rightful place with me.”
Tears tracked down his face, but he chose not to wipe them away and instead climbed to his feet awkwardly like a toddler. Once again opening his eyes to the blinding white surrounding him, he could make out Chuck slowly walking away into the nothing. His voice croaked when it finally surged past the large lump in his throat.
“Wait! Chuck, wait!”
The ex-prophet paused, and turned back to face him. The look on his face was cold and stony. It didn’t suit him at all.
“Yes, Dean?”
Knees feeling like Jello beneath him, he managed to walk as quickly as possible to catch up with the smaller man.
“Please. Please can I ask you something and you tell me the truth? I think after all of this … I deserve a couple truths.”
Chuck heaved a weary sigh, but nodded his head in acceptance. Dean took it as his clearance to ask away.
“When … when we … where are me and Sammy going? You know? When … I mean, are we heading up or down after all this is over?”
Laughter peeled through the emptiness around them. It wasn’t cruel or cold, or even mocking. More like startled, but filled with warmth. The smile on Chuck’s face was back, and it was so full of something close to fondness, Dean found his nerves melting away.
“Really, Dean? You have to ask that?”
When Dean simply nodded, Chuck stepped forward and placed his hands gently on the hunter’s shoulders.
“Dean Winchester. My friend. Your name is known by all the Angels in Heaven and all the Demons in Hell. You are recognized by gods and monsters alike. You are a dear friend of the King of Kings. You and your brother? Are the stuff of legends … and legends are destined for the stars.”
Dean swallowed thickly, but couldn’t bring himself to say anything. The deity before him suddenly wrapped his smaller frame around him in a crushing hug. When he stepped back, there were tears glistening in the corner of his eyes. And if they kind of glowed like a million galaxies were hidden within … well, Dean wasn’t going to say anything.
“I promise you, Dean, that neither you nor your brother will ever see Hell again. When you each pass from the mortal realm, Castiel will carry you to Heaven himself. This I swear.”
Then Chuck turned away and began to fade into the white behind him.
“And when you get up there … you might want to check out this little dive of a place on the fringes of Heaven. Good bar. Nice people. All of them pretty big fans of yours.”
A wink and a grin, and the Almighty Creator was gone.
PART NINE