Chuck could hear a small voice, human and in pain, through all the prayers he got. Screams were heard in the background of the small voice, shaking with agony. He knew where it was. It came from far, far away. In the cage. In hell. He knew who had spoken.

Sam.

His favored son's vessel. He had jumped in the cage to save the world from destruction.

Chuck put his face in his hands. Of course, he had the power to raise him. To bring him out.

He appeared in Stull Cemetery. Where the fight had started and ended. He sighed. Lucifer, in a way, was right. This was a test. But not the one he thought. It was a test of free will.

He thought through his choices. He could leave it alone, and not do this. Just watch from behind a wall. The torture had been going on for years, down there.

Years of pain, years of agony. This wasn't the end. The leviathans. The trials. The falling of the angels. He had no idea if doing this would change anything. Maybe for the better.

Then he waved his hand.

A small, pulsing light appeared in his palm, resting there. Sam's soul. Staying strong, just for Dean. For his brother. But so close to breaking, so close to shattering. Chuck sighed again. While Sam and Dean might be similar to Lucifer and Michael, they didn't share the same brotherly bond. The connection that had been forged so deeply.

Chuck spoke to the soul. The poor, half-broken soul.

"Sam. I'm going to get your body back as well. Is that okay?"

While it wasn't possible for a soul to nod, he could tell its understanding of his words.

Sam's empty body materialized on the grass before him. It looked like it was in a coma. But it was far from that.

Chuck knelt down next to the body, cupping the soul in his hands, and pushed it inside. Sam's eyes flew open with a gasp.

Then there was something he noticed. Sam was trembling. Very slightly, but enough to notice. Sam was expecting endless agony. Torture after torture after torture.

Chuck slid into his vision. Sam scrambled back, then he hesitated.

"Wait, why would you be here? You were never here. What's going on?" His voice was shaking.

"Sam, you're not in the cage anymore," Chuck answered.

Sam snorted. "Really? I thought you were done with that trick a long time ago. What's wrong? Nostalgic?" Sam tensed, waiting for the bars of The Cage and hell to appear again. But Stull Cemetery stayed.

Chuck hadn't expected this.

"Sam. You really are out. I got you out." Sam laughed shakily and stumbled over to a tree nearby, leaning against it.

"Right. Let's say I go along with this because I don't think Lucifer would come up with something as creative as Chuck rescuing me from Hell." His eyes widened. "Unless that's the point." He took a step back, trembling.

"I did rescue you. Now, would you listen to me?"

"No." He tried to take off running in the other direction.

"Sam." He waved his hand. He showed Sam The Cage, only Lucifer and Michael occupying itnow. Lucifer's rage and torment of having Sam gone. Michael's emptiness.

"How did you-" Sam stopped in his tracks and turned around. "Who are you, really?"

Chuck smiled. "I'm God." Sam nodded slowly.

"Right. And, let's say you are God, and I believe you, why me?"

Chuck sighed.

He snapped his fingers, and a rickety wooden bench appeared next to them.

"Sit. I have a lot of explaining to do. Mainly on what happened in The Cage." Sam, still shaking slightly, walked over to the seat and sat down.

"Your soul has been damaged, countless times. I should have rescued you sooner." Chuck leaned forward and put his face in his hands.

Sam patted him on the back. "Hey, uh, Chuck. It's fine.

Chuck looked up and shook his head. "No, it's not fine. I brought you back, but I didn't heal you, not yet. You would eventually go insane from the memories of the cage."

Sam's eyes widened. "What? Why bring me back if...if eventually I'm going to go crazy?"

Chuck sat up and looked at the sky. "Because I can heal you." But Sam could hear the hesitation in his voice.

"But…?" He voiced.

"But, you would be in a coma for years. Or something similar to a Coma."

Sam's shock was evident. "Years? I would be in a coma for years?"

Chuck put his palms together, turning to look at him. "Sam, that might feel like a long time to you, but trust me, that is a blink of an eye."

Sam still looked worried. "Is there any other way?"

Chuck thought about it. Sure, creating a soul was easy. It happened every day, in every newborn. But healing one? What else could possibly work? Then he thought of something.

"Yes. My own grace."