[Superwho Big Bang] By The Grace of God - Part 2
Later, the group split up to two motel rooms with Cas and Dean in one, and the Doctor, Sam and a weak Jeremy sharing a three-bed room. None of the others wanted to share with Cas and Dean. The Doctor said he didn't want to intrude on the human stuff and Sam had had enough during the last few months. Jeremy had gotten a look of horror on his face, one that hadn't even graced it when the Doctor had called out that he was fading from history.
It was okay by Dean. It left him alone with Cas and God knew he needed some off time right now, because getting something like that dropped on you from the sky, literally, no one could expect him to just nod and go on with it.
Castiel was still talking to the Doctor, so Dean took the opportunity to walk off. He closed the door behind himself as he walked into his and Cas's room. The room was like any other sleezy motel room with horrible wallpaper, stark yellow this time. The TV in the corner was old but at least the bed was made. He shrugged off his jacket and shirt, keeping his t-shirt on. His discarded clothes found their way to the floor as Dean himself sat down on the king-sized bed.
He massaged his temples, trying to prevent his earlier headache from arising again. It didn't work all too well. The door opened then, and Cas stepped in. Dean looked up at him as the angel gave him a soft but weak smile.
“How is he?” Dean asked, not entirely sure he wanted to know the answer to the question he already suspected the answer to.
“History is taking its toll, Dean,” Cas said has he hung the trenchcoat on the hook by the door. “He is getting weaker as time passes by. We need to find my Father soon or he is going to vanish from the face of Earth and history itself, just like the Doctor said. We need to hurry.”
“It's just...
Dean stood up from the bed, keeping his eyes on Castiel
“We've tried to find God before and that didn't go so well.” Dean’s tone was frustrated. “The whole thing is a pipe dream, Cas. If God didn't step forward when the whole world was in danger, why would he do it for just one boy?”
“He is not any boy, Dean,” Cas said as he took a step closer, into Dean's personal space. “He is our son. I too am intimidated by that fact, but he is. He is family, Dean
“Don't you think that I know that? Christ, Cas, it's all just so... Fuck, I don't know.”
Dean sighed another 'fuck' as he turned around, laying down on the bed. He faced away from Cas as he closed his eyes.
“You're scared.” Castiel's deft fingers trailed down his spine as he sat down beside him. “Not just because the Jeremy boy is in danger now, but because he is our son. Your son. Am I right?”
Dean didn't answer him. He kept his eyes closed, thinking that maybe Cas would accept his attempt at sleep and leave him be. He wasn't that lucky.
“Your are afraid that you're not going to be a good father. You are scared that he will have a childhood like yours.”
Dean turned around, facing the angel on his bed side. The earnest look in Castiel's eyes took Dean back. He closed his eyes, rubbing a palm across his face before he could look back at Castiel. The blue eyes never left him.
“It's just...,” Dean begun, but Castiel shushed him.
“You are going to be a great father, Dean. No one knows as much about family like you do. You deserve to have one of your own. We will do great, together.”
Dean didn't say anything after that, but just pulled Castiel down for one, slow kiss. The angel had a knack for believing in Dean at all times, even when Dean himself didn't. The earth was still spinning thanks to Cas's faith in Dean.
Together, they drifted of to sleep. Not a peaceful slumber, but they rested on the bed, together.
* * *
Dean had done the awkward family road trip before when he was zapped back in time to meet his mother and father. The same atmosphere was back and clung in the air when five people crammed themselves into the Impala the next day. Dean hadn't slept that well, despite Castiel curled up beside him, and he was in a cranky mood. Sam rolled his eyes the moment he saw Dean and mumbled something Dean couldn't hear. He shot his brother a dirty look anyway because chances were that it had been something insulting.
Dean drove because with all that was going on, he wasn't about to give up control of his baby too. A cassette tape with Credence Clearwater Revival was playing on a low volume in the background, even with Sam's silent objection from the shotgun seat. The moose needed to ride there because of his seven-mile legs, but Dean reminded him once again who was in control of the music.
In the middle of the back seat sat Jeremy, his head leaning against Cas's shoulder, bobbing up and down as the car drove on. Dean looked at them in the rear-view mirror and he couldn't help but chew on his lower lip. If it had been anybody else that was sleeping that close to his angel, Dean would slammed the breaks and flung the guilty person out of the car, but now he couldn’t help the worry that's building up in the pit of his stomach. The kid was getting weaker by the hour and even the otherwise too cheerful Doctor had a worried look plastered on his face.
The Doctor kept scanning Jeremy with the sonic screwdriver. Dean didn't ask about the readings because he knew the expression of bad news when he saw it. Instead Dean focused on keeping the fastest speed that wouldn't get them pulled over by the police.
“Doesn't this... thing get any faster? We should have taken the TARDIS...”
It was the Doctor, who had left his examination of Jeremy for now and was instead leaning over the top of the bench seat. His long bangs were falling into his face and when he brushed them away, his elbow grazed Dean's cheek.
“Hey, not a bad word about my baby or I swear I'll throw you out on the curb,” Dean growled as he shoved the Doctor out of his sight. “And if I remember correct, your phone box broke down while my baby is taking us where we need to go. So sit back and take care of Jeremy. I'm not even sure why you're tagging along at all.”
“Dean, please don't,” Castiel intervened like the eternal peacemaker. Dean's mouth twitched with the eagerness of a come-back, but he let it be, continuing to drive forwards.
* * *
The stopped for lunch and rest a few hours drive from Burbank where the prophet lived. A burger with extra cheese eased Dean's hunger, but not his worry. Jeremy wouldn't eat anything, but at least he downed a bottle of water. He looked feverish now, only he wasn't warm or sweating at all. He just... faded. He couldn't sit up without help, yet his smile never left him. Sam had mumbled that he was just like Dean that one time when he refused to die in a hospital where the nurses weren't hot enough for him. Dean had told Sam to shove it.
“Don't worry,” Dean said when he and Jeremy was the only two in the car. He still sat in the driver's seat, but he had turned his torso, looking at Jeremy in the back. He “We'll fix you, kid. I promise.”
“I know you will,” Jeremy responded, mustering enough strength to turn his head and look at Dean.
The blind faith the kid had in him... Dean could only nod, his teeth clenched. Only, it wasn't blind faith. Jeremy knew him, had know an older version of him for all his life. He wasn't just saying things like Dean did to assure civilians during a hunt. Jeremy knew Dean, knew what he would do to prevent this from happening.
* * *
“Oh, it's you. I hoped that particular vision just was a nightmare.”
Chuck had gotten a new bathrobe since they had seen him last, but it was on a path towards ruin. Otherwise, nothing much had changed. He still had a three day-scruff on his cheeks, some unidentifiable stain on his t-shirt and a distant expression on his face.
“Nice to see you too, Chuck,” Dean said as he marched into the house. The rest of them followed but the only one bothering to say a proper hello was the Doctor. Jeremy wrinkled his nose a little and when they sat down, Cas helped him place himself as far away from the prophet as possible. The Doctor excused himself from the gathering, saying that he needed to make some sort of scan of the place. Chuck didn't look all too happy, but he didn't object, probably realizing that it was a battle lost before it was started.
The buzz of the sonic screwdriver sounded through the room as the Doctor when on his scavenger hunt. Dean tried to ignore it, but at times he just wanted to twitch and break the thing in half. It was like partnering up with a mechanical mosquito. Couldn't the damn Time Lord just look and touch the things he examined like ordinary people.
Chuck's house was a mess, just like its owner, but somehow they found places to sit, or at least lean against. The kitchen table was filled with scribbled A4s, stacks with books and porno mags and plates filled with various amounts of left-over food. There were a few bottles of beer and hard liquor too, helping to add to the smell. The place was a bachelor's pad down to the extreme.
Not really wanting to linger too long at the place, Dean turned towards Chuck instead. He looked as distant and confused as ever. It was a true miracle that God trusted this man with a prophet's job.
“So, no news from the head honcho,” Dean asked, ignoring the look he knew Castiel was giving him. “God hasn't been dropping any special notes?”
“You need to find God again? Didn't you already stop the apocalypse? Damn, what have you Winchesters been doing this time?”
Chuck almost whined, his upper lip curving upwards a little. It continued to twitch for a while.
“Hey, we saved the world, remember? Besides, this time, Dean did something. And, well, Cas too I guess. They, uh, made a baby,” Sam said and Dean had to smile at the dip in his brother's voice when he pronounced the word 'baby'. “Only, they haven't yet and now we need God. So, have you seen him around?”
“He doesn't exactly leave a post-it note... But wait, a baby? Oh fuck,” Chuck groaned and buried his face in his hands. Dean leaned a little closer, but all he could hear was incoherent ramblings. He was pretty sure he picked up the words 'live gay porn' and 'fuck my life'. When Chuck looked up again, his eyes were little crazy. “But no, haven't seen him, haven't heard from him. You can leave now, right?”
The expression on Chuck's face and his tone reminded Dean of this one time his friend and hunting buddy had tried (and failed) to convince Dean that he wasn't tripping balls. Chuck didn't do such a great job of convincing Dean this time either, but he suspected that it didn't have so much to do with Chuck telling lies as Chuck wanting them out of the house.
“Charles, this is a serious matter,” Castiel pitched in. “We need your help. This young man is Jeremy, and he is vanishing from this world's history. He is also mine and Dean's son from the future. If he is to survive, or rather, if he is to be born at all, we need to find God. Are you certain that you have not heard from my father?”
“Aha,” the Doctor exclaimed loudly, making everybody jump in their seats. He picked something up, something small and made of silver, from the book case. Apparently the sonic screwdriver was having a field day with it.
The Doctor bit his lips, but his eyes glittered like they always did when he was being clever and thought of something no one else did. He tossed the object up in the air only to catch it again as he spun around to face Chuck.
“Do you have any idea what this is?”
“Ugh,” Chuck stuttered, craning his neck backwards to be able to see the watch the Doctor was holding up too close to his face. “It's a pocket watch or something. Might have been dad's I think. I don't really remember.”
“Good,” was the only thing the Doctor said. Then he opened the watch.
Dean had seen many strange things during his life as a hunter. He had seen someone else wearing his body; he had traveled in time, killed ghosts, demons, and even angels. He had been to Heaven and Hell. Compared to all that, opening a pocket watch shouldn't be significant. The results were hardly more than a light show, but there was more to it than met the eye, so much more, so much raw power.
“Doctor, what did you just do?”
Dean tried hard to not to sound alarmed, but it was damn hard when that was going on just a few feet from him. The light was almost golden, like a sunrise over the Nevada desert, but there was no real source of the light. At first it had flooded out from the pocket watch, but now it was everywhere, all of it surrounding Chuck. The poor prophet stood wide-eyed, his head snapping back and forth. He tried to take a step backwards, but the light followed him and intensified.
“Stand still, Dean. It’ll be over soon,” the Doctor said as he put a flat hand on Dean's chest, holding him back from attempting to reach out for Chuck.
Dean stood back at the Doctor's command, but he didn't relax. The light only intensified for every second, and soon it had almost devoured Chuck entirely. Then, suddenly, the light seemed to fade, but not into thin air, into Chuck. His eyes were closed and his face was... The best word to describe it was serene.
“The pocket watch. It's not really a watch,” the Doctor started to explain without taking his eyes off Chuck. “Well, it is, but not really. It's a fob watch. I used one once, a few years back. It stores all your memories and DNA, all while it's creating a new life with new memories for you. A human life. You believe that you're human and then the watch creates something called a perception filter which makes you forget it, makes you discard it as just another everyday object. That's until you open the watch again. Then it gives you all your old memories back. All your memories and... your true form.”
It took Dean a few seconds before he made the connection. By then, the light had entirely melted into Chuck. The prophet opened his eyes and Dean wasn’t sure that he was Chuck anymore. His eyes hadn't changed color like a demon's, but there was something in them. Something very powerful and very not human. Very not Chuck.
The Doctor took a step forward and addressed the man with a name or a title that was as far from 'Chuck' as possible. Dean couldn't hear what it was, but it wouldn't surprise him if that was because he wasn't allowed to hear it. The Doctor didn't kneel before him, nor did he bow his head. Yet it was God who stood before them, looking at them from Chuck's body, like he had taken the prophet as a vessel. It couldn't be anyone else.
Even after Hell and after Heaven. Even after angels, demons, and Lucifer himself, Dean still doubted the existence of God. He could name several reasons which pointed that he was right, yet all of them flowed out of his head when he looked at the man before him. There was a tense energy in the room, almost as if electricity buzzed through it, and then Chuck finally spoke.
“It is a long time since we last met, Time Lord,” Chuck said, because no matter what was happening, it was still hard to really admit that God was speaking through a shabby alcoholic.
“Well, you did get rather mad the last time so I thought best to not worsening the things. What with you being a god and everything. Met the Devil, though, or at least one of them. But, I am not here for the spotlight today.”
He stepped aside, revealing Jeremy. His breathing was even more shallow now, coming in short huffs. God looked at the boy, soft hums escaping him.
“I see,” he said, more to the room than to anyone in it. “An impossible boy.”
Castiel stood up, careful not to rouse Jeremy who drowsily leaned against his shoulder, eyes hardly opened anymore.
“Father,” Cas said and Dean wondered at the stability of his voice. The angel's blue eyes didn't look down, but he met his father straight on.
“Castiel. I am happy to see you, son. And to see your son in turn.”
Castiel's back was straight, his chin tilted upwards. It was strange to see him stand on alert for a figure like Chuck, no matter who was currently in the possession of his body.
“I need your help. We need your help. We saved your earth without your help, but this is beyond us. You need to give us the gift of life like you did at the dawn of the earth.”
Dean wanted to say that beside that, there were several other things they would love to get some help with. This didn't seem like the best time to call on God's wrath or annoyance, so he kept his mouth shut. Castiel continued to talk about Jeremy with a low, but steady voice, telling his Father about what had happened during the last two days.
“I can help you,” God finally answered when Castiel had finished. Dean felt, relieved, a weight being lifted off him. “But then this must be good bye for the mad man and the impossible boy. Even I know that it isn't wise to cross one's own time line.”
He raised his arm to use whatever mojo God worked when Dean shouted the whole thing to a halt. He bit his lip and looked over at Jeremy who sat on a chair, Sam sitting by his side after Castiel had stood up.
“I just want to say good bye. Give me two minutes. I should do this right.” Dean said, lowly.
God bowed his head and suddenly Dean and Jeremy were outside on Chuck's backyard. Dean's arm was under Jeremy's armpit, dragging his whole weight to an abandoned deckchair in the corner of the lawn. Dean helped him sit down and took a step back and a deep breath. Maybe it hadn't been the best of ideas to do this. He didn't really know Jeremy and Jeremy knew a twenty year older version of himself.
“Look, this is awkward. You’ve known me your whole life and I’ve known you like two days. I feel like the girl in The Notebook, and I will kill you if you ever mention that to Sam, family or not. But that's kind of what I wanted to get to. Family.”
Dean had to pause for a while. He wasn't close to crying, because Dean Winchester didn't do things like that, no matter his earlier confession. It was just that he needed to find the right words. These were important words. Maybe not for the already grown Jeremy, but for the soon-to-be-father Dean. He closed his eyes and drew a hand over his face, dragging his spiked hair backwards.
“I hope you know how important family is; that we taught you that. Because it is. It's what’s gotten me through the most rotten situations, and I don't know if you're old enough to hear about it all, but both me and Sam have been through quite a bit. We were in it together, though, like a family. Then there's Bobby and Cas and they're family too, just as much as Sam is my brother. And you know. You're family too.”
The weak smile was back on Jeremy's face and Dean couldn't help but to smile right back at him. When Jeremy then spoke, Dean almost wished that he hadn’t his voice so rough and strained.
“I’ve heard from you several times that Winchesters don't do chick-flick moments, but then again, it's not the first time you haven't lived as you learned. And don't sulk now. We'll have a great time. But really, go in there now and make sure I get born.”
“You're a good kid, “Dean says as he turns around. From behind Jeremy says something that sounds like 'if you only knew', but Dean ignores it with a smile. Time would tell if he was right.
On his way back in again, he meets the Doctor. He has his hands in his pocket, strolling down the paved path like he was walking in the park. His face said the opposite of that, his tense forehead furrowing and his mouth a tight line. He was supposed to know the alien in the future
“He'll send us back to the TARDIS. I promise to take care of Jeremy. It should be all fine now.”
“Yeah,” Dean nodded and patted the shoulder of the Time Lord's tweed jacket. “You better. And, uhm, Doctor? You better drop by once in a while or Sammy will claim the spot as 'Jeremy's coolest uncle'. Just saying.”
“Castiel has done right by picking you, righteous man,” the Doctor said, patting his shoulder. “Now get in there and be a daddy. God knows that you're gonna be a great one.”
* * *
Dean had no idea what to expect when he stepped in through the door. He had spent his entire life hunting down various supernatural beings, sometimes with the help of ancient, magical rituals. He knew that they existed, that some of them worked, but they had been relatively simple spells: spells used to summon or bind demons. Not something that could create life out of thin air.
Everybody had remained where they were when Dean had left the room. Sam was drumming his fingers against the arm support of his chair. Castiel and Chuck stood in the middle of the living room
“Dean,” God said and took a step towards him. “I need a piece of your soul and a piece of Castiel's grace.”
Dean nodded, wondering how to go about the whole thing. Showed to be that God only placed one of Chuck's hands on Dean shoulder, closing his eyes with a concentrated mask.
The sensation was odd. It wasn't painful, just plain odd. Castiel had said he had been through it before, when he, as he put it, gripped him tight and raised Dean from perdition. Not that Dean remembered any of that.
It was just as odd when the hand disappeared, like something was missing. He couldn't feel a hole in his soul or anything, but there was something simply lacking now. God turned to Castiel, copying the process. When he let go of the trenchcoat clad shoulder, he finally opened his eyes again, though still with a look of concentration.
Dean thought there would be a grand light show, like the one that had happened when the pocket watch opened. No light swirled around like fireflies, like a storm on fire. There wasn't anything like that. Dean had no idea how to describe the phenomenon. It reminded him a little of when a ghost appeared and flickered. Only, this time, the whole room, maybe the whole world, flickered. It felt like a crack in reality, and when they got to the other side of it, Chuck stood with a child in his arms.
The baby didn't just appear out of nowhere. Or, he had just appeared out of nowhere, but he had also always been there. Like he said before, this was God's work and Dean was not about to attempt to understand and explain it.
“So, I guess you're Jeremy,” Dean said when Chuck carefully handed him the small child. “We're naming our son after our son? Is that even possible?”
God smiled, showing off Chuck's yellowing teeth. “If the Doctor still was around, he would give a lecture on how time isn't a straight line, the past depending on the future and the opposite. I will suffice with a 'yes'. It has happened before too, with other time travelers.”
Dean doesn't really care about anything the Doctor or God has seen or done before. He is holding his son in his arms and the Time Lord or even the Almighty Father couldn't be less important right now.
Jeremy's big eyes looked up at him, the baby's gaze never leaving his face. They were green, just like his and of course the grown Jeremy's, but there was something of Castiel in his penetrating stare. Sounds bubbled out of Jeremy's mouth and he waved his hands upwards. His small, thick fingers tried and failed to grip Dean's shirt.
The baby was heavier than he looked and when he moved, Dean was afraid he would drop the small human. The grip around his son, his son, tightened, causing the smallest of frown on baby Jeremy's face.
Castiel was by his side then, placing a hand on his shoulder. Dean took a deep breath and his body loosened. Not enough to drop Jeremy of course, but Dean's muscled released their earlier tension.
“He's beautiful, Dean. He looks a lot like you,” Castiel said as he leaned over the baby. He was quiet for a long time when he just looked at little Jeremy. Jeremy looked right back up at him. “Could I... Can I hold him?”
A small laugh escaped Dean, but he nodded. Of course he could. Carefully, supporting Jeremy's head, he handed the baby over to his lover. The sight of Cas cradling their son in his arms made Dean's heart beat just a little faster. Jeremy seemed to melt into Cas, like he belonged in his arms. It might have been the whole soul-meets-grace thing, but Dean thought it could might as well that Cas just beamed with pride and happiness.
The angel had spent several millennium's worth of time being a son. It was time for him to become a father. Tearing his eyes off their son for a second, Dean turned back towards God who still inhabited Chuck's body.
“So, you're God now, huh? What are you gonna do? Go rule the world?”
“I have always been God, I just hid it very well. And no, the Earth is not my place anymore. I am there in people's hearts and that is more than enough for this day and age. I will return to my previous state of mind, and I am sorry about this, but I need to make you forget. After all, you could blow my cover. You’re a quite troublesome group.”
Those were the last words God spoke before he closed the fob watch’s lid again, his eyes shutting too. The whole room lit up at once, like a lightning strike. Dean turned his head around, his eyes darting towards Cas and Jeremy in his arms. The angel had closed his eyes shut, cradling their son close to his chest to protect the baby’s eyes too. A vase on the shelf shook, but didn't fall to the floor. Just as fast as it had began, it was over.
Dean blinked and looked around in the room. He felt like he was missing something. They were in Chuck's house, and so much he remembered. Really, he still had an entire time line, with no blank gaps. They had made it to Burbank and Chuck's home, they had talked and then the Doctor and grown Jeremy had left. Or well, after Dean had given a way too emotional good bye than he was ever gonna admit. Then Jeremy had been born, or created, or what ever you were supposed to call it.
“I think I need to sit down a while.”
It was Chuck's voice and it sounded like he had downed about fifteen bottles of hunter's helper. The prophet soon took a seat after he shoved the pile of dog-eared Supernatural books of the chair. He gave a deep sigh before he looked up at Dean.
“He was here, wasn't he?”
“I don't remember,” Dean answers honestly. “But yeah, probably.”
God had been there. God, the Almighty Father, had been there in the house with them. Not only that, he had created life. Sam huffed out a breath, shaking his had slowly with his gaze firmly fastened on the floor.
“I can't believe this actually happened.”
Chuck mumbled some inaudible agreement to that, but Dean, standing next to Cas, shook his head. Baby Jeremy was bouncing slightly up and down in the angel's arms, looking bewildered at the world around him. Everything was so new for him. Everything was so new for all of them, for Dean and Cas too. There were so many things they needed to do, they needed to get.
Cas held a small life in his arms, a life he and Dean was responsible for now. A little life that continued to smile as he looked around the room over Castiel's shoulder. Dean smiled too.
“No, this is definitely for real.”
* * *
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