Writing gives you the illusion of control, and then you realize it's just an illusion, that people are going to bring their own stuff into it.
David Sedaris, interview in Louisville Courier-Journal, June 5, 2005
Word Count: 868
See, everybody thought that he'd had a plan all laid out. Everyone believed that there was some Grand Plan that he'd set forth in the beginning- a script and everyone had their parts to play. He couldn't really blame them, in the beginning a part of him might have believed that too. But the truth is that he'd never really intended for things to play out the way they did. When it boiled down to it he was a writer and writing only gives you the illusion of control.
When his sons began to argue he warned them that if they continued to harbor this anger that one day they would have a battle that would destroy half of the planet. They would take their fight to the point that one would have to slay the other, that Michael would kill the younger brother that he loved so much. That his younger children, both angelic and human, would suffer endlessly and many would die unless Lucifer could learn to see reason and Michael could learn to forgive. It wasn't a mandate. Although he'd told them the tale of a possible future, he wasn't trying to tell them their roles. He was warning them about a tragic tale, but all they heard was The Plan. A brilliant script starring Michael and Lucifer ending with the Apocalypse as the Grand Finale.
They took to it with such vigor that it broke his heart and made him believe they were right. He believed that there was only one possible ending for the story and he could stay and watch them destroy each other. He hated the story that he'd set in motion and there was no way he was going to sit around and watch it happen. Even after he left he kept watching them. Knowing how the story was going to unfold before the events ever happened. And he kept writing the story, the story of his family, trying to write in as many opportunities for his sons to do the right thing as he could. But it seemed like the story was barreling forward as "planned" regardless of how he tried to change it.
Then one day something changed that gave him hope. Two boys with a huge destiny crushing down on them that loved each other every bit as fiercely as Michael and Lucifer once had. These boys resembled his sons in almost every way, even their life stories ran in a disturbingly close parallel. Sam and Dean were special, they were a part of Lucifer and Michael, meant to be their vessels. He watched them come together, watched them fight destiny and put family above everything else. They overcame betrayal, old wounds, and poor decisions to stand beside each other no matter what tried to get in their way. Their loyalty and love moved him. In Sam and Dean he found his hope. Once again he saw that the story was never fully formed. People could always change things.
So he helped them, in small ways he aided their cause without revealing himself. He knew he could intervene more directly, but then none of his children would ever learn. The whole reason he'd left Heaven was to give his angels Free Will, like the humans and archangels had always had. In order to truly heal his family, his angelic children needed to learn that they weren't better than the humans. Even if it meant that some of them would die, he needed those in Heaven and those in Hell to understand that given Free Will they would behave just like the humans on Earth. He knew it would be hard, but it was the fair thing to do. Free Will is gift and a responsibility, but he had faith in his children to do the right thing. He had never felt quite so proud than when he watched his son Castiel fall for what was right.
Dean and Sam never failed to surprise him. Even as he sat at his computer writing their story they would find ways of amusing him, moving him, making him cheer for them. Occasionally they even found ways to change what had already been written. Causing him to have to go back and edit the pages to reflect the audacity and tenacity of two brothers, their adopted father, and their favorite angel. He did his best to document the way they battled the So-Called Plan that he had grown to loathe.
When the day came to write the Apocalypse all he could think was that "Endings are hard." He wrote it all down anyway. As he wrote he knew that he wasn't deciding this outcome, not completely. This was the story of two sets of brothers, bound to each other in ways that few could understand, and they would decide how this chapter would end. Sure, he'd help a little with the clean up, but win or lose it was up to the boys. You see, David Sedaris was right, "Writing gives you the illusion of control, and then you realize it's just an illusion, that people are going to bring their own stuff into it." And he couldn't be more thrilled.