Unwritten
The Winchesters tale wasn't the only story hidden on Chucks computer. Hardly. But the 'Supernatural' folder held more than just the story of the two brothers who set out to defy everything. It held one file, named 'emergency backup' that, despite the name was not a copy of 'Supernatural'.
It was supposed to be a rewrite, a emergency back up should something happen to the world that could not be undone by any other means.
Because Chuck had seen farther into the future than he every admitted and hadn't liked how the story ended. Angels falling and Sam dying, Leviathans and Purgatory, Castiel and the Cage and Sam and Dean and everything in between and what the fuck was God thinking?
More important, what the hell had given this God the right to mess with their lives like that.
Now, Chuck decided to give it a shot, with a good healthy dose of faith. As the Prophet has written, so shall it be. Or something similar was what that Angel had said and really, he had nothing to loose and all the time to write down his own personal revenge for all the migraines and misery this Prophet business had put him through, in the form of a nicely wrapped up happy ending. For everyone.
Sadly, Chuck never got very far at writing this particular part of the story, the nicely developed plot in his mind, leading the world down the road to Happyville, Teenage-fan girl-fanfiction-style, never made it onto those blank pages, all he managed were a few out of context words, half-finished sentences and the rough description of someone unknown who might have the knowledge and the abilities to fix most of what went wrong.
He saved the file and continued with the actual story, about the last battle on that old bone-yard just outside of Lawrence, Kansas. And while it had been Chuck the Prophet who started the last chapter, it was God who ended it. And God... he didn't care much for all the other files on that hard-drive. As a matter of fact, he didn't even look at them, he wrote his ending just the way he wanted it. With both Micheal and Lucifer back in the cage, and him free of that annoying responsibility of having to worry about those two. Problem solved, in his opinion. He didn't much care for what happened after, he had a beautiful garden to tend to and the rest of the world could burn in his opinion.
Maybe someone should've told God about that particular loophole in his rules and had he bothered to return to heaven someone might have, but he didn't, hadn't been there in a long time and a few years down the road there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing but stand back and watch as time was unwritten and everything else was left to chance.
To the Powers that Be, it didn't matter that all this particular file held were confusing out of context phrases and maybes that didn't quite make much sense to anyone. It was not important that nothing of substance was written, that all this particular document held was the rough outline of someone unknown, the beginnings of scenes that never happened, unfinished descriptions of unclear possibilities.
It did not matter.
Something had been written, been prophesied, so it had to be. And if the unknown Powers that Be had to wing it, for the lack of detail and real plot made it impossible to know what should be, well, then thats the way it was gonna be.
And as the dawn of a new day broke and the last Angel had fallen to earth in an run down, abandoned house, a computer flickered to life and the printer connected to it spat out the pages of this very document.
Power surged through the river of time, pulsed through the known and unknown Universe, beyond and father than ever before and searched, found and plucked the one that despite the unclear description fit the best and spit the human soul into existence. Rather roughly, but with enough care to place the fragile soul into an empty body in the intense care ward of a hospital at the same moment as an Angel of the Lord gripped on righteous man tight and raised him from perdition.
The addition of a new soul to the world went unnoticed, but by God, who suddenly found himself utterly powerless and mortal, cut of from that Power that had made him what he was...had been. Unable to find out what had happened, to undo it, he was left to stand on the sidelines and watch as someone else, a mere human did what he couldn't.
It would take three weeks for that particular human to wake up, and if the nurses or the doctors had paid more attention to the once brain dead Jane Doe they might have noticed the changes. Might have seen how her once blond hair darkened, how old scars faded and different ones appeared, how the face gradually changed to a different one.
But they hadn't and as dazed and confused green eyes snapped open, no one even remembered that they had once been a light pale blue.