*Okay so this is just a little blurb that was stuck in my head and wouldn't go away until I wrote it. I hope now it will leave me to write Grounded.

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone. Just my rambling mind going on a tangent.

Cast the First Stone

I know there are many out there that judge me. I am not oblivious to the fact that much of what has past is a burden that is placed on my shoulders. Is it wrong for those to judge me in this way? I can't say. Once upon a time I was sure of myself, sure of the outcome in my endeavours; but now, I doubt my own choices, my own wisdom. Most of all, I have come to doubt my sons.

I truly did not intend to abandon my sons to their fate. I had believed that when the time came I would be there for them, to guide their hand. Yet, when the day came, I wasn't there. I had lost faith in my children, in the world…In truth and love.

I watched as Sam and Dean struggled with their own demons; stayed silent as their doubts in themselves and each other nearly tore them apart. I am sorry to say that with each passing day, I stopped believing, I lost hope. In my heart I knew these 'Saviours of man' would fail.

How could I not? Here was Sam, dabbling in the dark powers given him by evil, then Dean offering himself to the angels like some kind of sacrifice. It was then, with a heavy heart, I gave up.

It wasn't until I felt the hot steel of the angel blade tear through me that I felt it. A quickening in my very being. Hope. Hope was rising within me again. Somehow Dean had found the strength to stand up. He destroyed the vessel I inhabited; believing that he was 'ganking' the being inside.

Gank. What a playfully, interesting word, don't you think? Right, the story…

I'm not going to say it didn't hurt, because it hurt like the blue blazes. Another term I have grown fond of; 'blue blazes'. I have often wondered how that phrase had come about. Words are a tricky, interesting thing.

Yes, the story, I apologize.

As I rose up from the body I had taken so long ago; I felt a surge of faith; my doubts began to ebb. Maybe these chosen boys would overcome the odds. Maybe, just maybe they would be the heroes they were destined to be.

Let me explain myself here, for I can see that you do not understand this experiment that was forced upon you. I had to know. If given the choice would my children love me? Would they vow obedience and faith? Or would I be forgotten as they go about their day to day lives.

Some say this started when I created man; but it goes much deeper than that. It began with my first born sons; Michael and Lucifer. They were beautiful; my greatest creations. You may say it was wrong, that I was the cause of all this, but it was something I needed to know. Could my children handle free will? If given the ability to really think for themselves, what would they do?

It didn't take long to find out.

As you might have guessed, I gave the ability of free will to Lucifer; my Morning Star. He wasn't always dark and twisted; once he was a good son. But then I created man. It was an unforeseen side effect that started this unraveling of destinies. With free will and the chance to think for oneself come emotions. Emotions like jealousy, which I am sorry to say, Lucifer was ill equipped to handle.

He refused to bow down to man as ordered, instead becoming insubordinate and angry. In his anger, he tried to persuade his siblings that he was in the right, not I. This is a blasphemy for angels of all ranks. I was certain that I had nothing to fear, none of my other children had been bestowed with the curse of thought and free will. You could imagine my surprise when he started to gain followers. Was free will contagious? This was an interesting concept I had to follow up on, but I couldn't afford to lose all my children to my favoured son's belligerent ways.

So, I had Michael banish him. I created the darkest, coldest, loneliest pit and had my eldest cast his younger brother into it, locking him inside for what he had thought was eternity. I too, in my anger and disappointment, thought Lucifer would reside in that solitary cage indefinitely.

I can see your eyes glazing over my child, you have heard this before. It's not news to you; you aren't interested in another Bible lesson. But what I am to tell you next is not something you would read in your Bible or hear in the hallowed halls of your local church. I loved Lucifer, I still do.

After his banishment, I would visit him; asking if he would repent, ask me for forgiveness and bow to man. Every time he would shake his head and look at me in sheer determination, vowing he would never bow to man. His reason? He felt man was flawed; that the very creatures I cherished would destroy all that I had created.

"Father," he had said. "If given the opportunity, they would turn from you for their own gain, for their own pleasures. These creatures are no better than the animals you brought forth from the slime and scum of the waters."

I refused to believe that my newly sculpted children would turn on me. I told him. "Lucifer, my son, my children love me they want to feel my love. They want to honour me."

It was then, we somehow struck a deal. I don't know why I agreed. Perhaps I had more faith in man than I should have. Perhaps I thought if Lucifer was proven wrong, he would come back to us. Be my son again. Perhaps I simply saw it as the next step in the experiment. Whatever the reason, the deal was struck. I would stand down for an agreed upon period of time, and during this time, Lucifer could have his followers try to sway my beloved creations.

In Lucifer's mind, if I wasn't there, giving man what they needed when they asked, they would grow to hate me. As any father would, I refused to believe that such a thing was possible. I created them. I was the reason they had life, of course they would love me as I loved them. However, I insisted that I can intercede on the behalf of the most faithful, a handful of times. You see, it was the most faithful my son wanted to corrupt the most.

For thousands of years, I bit my tongue and sat on my hands, doing nothing to aid my children. I ached to see how they suffered. I fumed when they set on a path to self-destruction. I wept when I saw how right Lucifer had been all those years ago. Still, I remained the unfeeling, uncompassionate God man came to see me as. Not once did I try to defend myself. I gave my word, and I would stick to it.

Then came the day that Lucifer set the end in motion.

He told Azazel of his need for a man-child, a special child born through a chosen bloodline. A bloodline created when many of my children succumbed to lust and bedded the daughters of man. Only the descendants of such a bloodline could house the essence of an angel.

I knew this would happen; I had seen it along with many other possible paths Lucifer could have taken. Many say I am all-seeing, that I could have stopped this from happening long ago. I could have, for I could see every possible choice Lucifer would take. But, I gave my word.

Lucifer had given his word as well; I could intercede a few times, quietly from the background. And this I did. I chose John Winchester because of his loyalty and obedience to what he thought was right. He was a righteous man that would stand up for those that couldn't stand up for themselves. I knew Azazel would choose Mary, after-all what fallen angel, turned demon wouldn't want their own blood in the center of the end of days?

After bringing these humans together, I again returned to stillness. I had to save what few interventions I had left for a later date, when it would really be needed. Each time I felt Dean curse me, blame me for his heartache and hardship, I ached. He had so much ahead of him, more than any man should have to face, yet I didn't left a finger to let him know I was still here.

As much as Dean expressed his hatred and disbelief, Sam clung to his faith. He prayed to me and I listened, unable to aid him in his quest. I didn't realize just how much his prayers meant to me, until they stopped. I wanted nothing more on that day than to bring young Sam to me and tell him that I had not forgotten him. That I loved him as one of my most treasured. He was so much like my young Lucifer. The silence from Sam carved a chasm in my very soul. I wanted nothing more than to cry out, 'I have not forsaken thee, my son. I have not turned away from you.'

But I had given my word, and had to bide my time.

I became Zachariah the day Dean went to hell, for I knew then it had started. Nothing could stop fate from weaving her tale of woe and misery to all.

I see you are surprised. In your mind I didn't behave as a being wanting to stop the end. It is true, but I knew I had to keep the Winchesters in the game, and make them think for themselves.

I was cruel to the boys, and for all intents and purposes, it seemed that I wanted them to say yes and accept their destinies. But that wasn't what I wanted at all. It was seeing the change in young Castiel that brought me to intercede. It seemed that indeed, free will was highly contagious, and my young son was becoming confused and distraught.

I thought if I was his superior, would he not turn from man and their sins and stay on heaven's path. Or would he truly stand for what he thought was right; what he thought I wanted. For a time I was certain he had returned to the obedient angel that he had always been, never questioning his orders or taking the time to think. For some reason, this saddened me.

Then Castiel did what few can, he surprised me. He showed loyalty to man, the one thing I had tried to instil in my angels from the moment Adam stood on two legs. I was proud of my boy, which was why I brought him back not once, but twice.

When the final days were stopped in their tracks, and my stubborn first borns locked in the cage, I sought to quietly reward the young heroes. I brought Castiel back, knowing that he would find a way to rescue poor Sam. Had he prayed to me, I would have been at his side, guiding his hand as he reached into the darkness for the tiny spark that was Sam. But he didn't.

I was coming to see that with free will, came a lack of belief and faith in me. Were my children better off this way? Wouldn't they be happier feeling only love and contentment, never having to think for themselves. I am inclined to think that may be the case. With independence comes sadness, doubt and confusion. Why did they fight so hard to keep it?

Although the end had been stopped, and my vow had come to term, I still stood on the sidelines, watching quietly as Castiel explored this new; and what appeared to be to him; exhilarating freedom. The day my young son displayed his new power after consuming the souls and declared himself the new God, was the day my heart shattered forever.

I brought this on to the world. I allowed the first free thought. It was me. I started this, and now I know that man will suffer for my curiosity.

Do I deserve to be punished for what I allowed to happen? Do you think I deserve to die or be forgotten because I wanted to have beings that would love my by choice? If so…

Let he who hath no sin Cast the First Stone.