Ok, so this is chapter 3. I have just finished writing chapter 5 and shiiiit, I might have to change the genre of this story... If you guys decide to stay on the ride, you're in for a helluva emotional rollercoaster. Anyway, enjoy! Hope you like the chapter!


"Sammy!" Dean shouted at the top of his lungs; the sound of his voice echoed down the narrow hallways of the bunker, reverberating on every wall. Ricocheting like a bullet would. "Sammy?!" Dean shouted again as he passed another hallway.

Somewhere to his right, he heard Sam shouting 'yeah' and decided to check the main hub. Sam was sitting at one of the research tables, typing away at his laptop. He had opened a can of pop and was sipping at it. *1

"Dude, didn't you hear me?"

Sam mumbled something under his breath and Dean rolled his eyes. Once a nerd, always a nerd. Typing something else into his computer, Sammy's eyes widened and he spun his laptop around so that it was facing Dean.

"It's a long shot, but I think I've found something - might be Amara. Guy commits suicide in Hope Springs, Idaho, but according to the reports, no one knows why. He was a perfectly happy guy. Married, 2.5 kids, loved his family. And then," Sam snapped his fingers, "Snap."

Dean frowned and said, "So what, demon possession?"

Sammy shrugged, "My guess is he's soulless."

"Well, it's not much," he said slowly, then shrugged, "But given what we've got, its more than we had a day ago."

He was about to start making his way to the kitchen, when his phone rang. Seeing an unknown number, he put it on speaker, so that Sam could listen in.

"Yeah? Dean here."

"Dean Winchester? The Dean Winchester?" The voice sounded British, and panicked. Dean exchanged a glance with his brother who shrugged, but had stood up so that he could hear what the person on the other side was saying.

"Yeah, who's callin'?"

"Potter, Harry Potter. Chuck told me that I should call you, should there be an emergency-"

"Dude, take it easy! Chuck? You mean Chuck Shurley? You're a friend of his? Why isn't he calling if it's an emergency?"

"No, no - he's my brother!" Sam and Dean exchanged a surprised glance - they hadn't known that Chuck had a brother. He'd always seemed lonely.

"And he's been kidnapped! Some dude with freaking wings knocked me out and when I woke up, Chuck was gone. My brother told me that in an emergency I should call you guys. Guessing that was an angel? Oh, fuck, fuck, FUCK!"

"Breathe!" Dean commanded, hearing the panic attack that was coming on. "Get a paper bag or something. Just breathe! Are you at Chuck's house?" There was a muffled yes and the Winchesters realised that the guy must have done exactly what Dean had told him to do.

"Ok, we're on our way. Don't move, and don't get into trouble."

"I don't get it." Sammy said out of the blue. It was raining hard on the windshield, and the harsh sound of raining almost drowned him out.

"What don't you get?"

"The guy - Harry Potter - said he saw 'the guy's wings', I thought only angels could see other angel's wings."

"Sammy, his bother is a prophet. Is it too far a stretch to think that maybe he's got some special mojo too?"

"I don't know, Dean. It's just we've never heard of Chuck's brother," Sam pretended to mockingly think it over, "-oh right, maybe 'cause Chuck is supposed to be dead!"

Dean laughed cynically, "I would have thought that you of all people would be used to people coming back from the dead. We've died a few times, Sammy."

Slowly, ever so slowly, Chuck regained awareness. The first thing he noticed was the wonderful smell of nature that wafted through the air and seeped through the very essence of everything. Next, he felt the lush grass beneath his fingers, and he took a deep sigh of contentment as his fingers curled around said grass.

After that, the rest of his senses came crushing down like a waterfall of sensations. His hearing came back, and suddenly he was hearing beautiful symphonies being sung by birds chirping in the trees. And finally, his eyes fluttered open and he gasped at the pure beauty of the garden he now lay in.

It was paradise. Literally. Like literally, literally.

He could feel it; he knew all of a sudden, that is was paradise. What else could it be? Such beauty could have never been conceived on Earth. He stood up and gazed around himself, mouth agape. This had to be a work of God. This led him to another train of thought. If he was in Paradise - did that mean he was dead? Did that mean he had ended up in heaven?

"You are not dead." Said a raspy voice from behind him and Chuck swung around to meet a middle-aged dark-skinned man. He was smiling warmly at Chuck, much like a son does when he meets his father after a very long time. Chuck blinked rapidly.

"I'm in Heaven's Garden, right?" The man nodded once, and Chuck continued, "And you're Joshua, right? I remember having a vision about you meeting Sam and Dean." Joshua was smiling widely by now and he was still nodding.

"Welcome home, f-Chuck."

Chuck noticed the slip of the tongue, but decided to ignore him; after all he had more pressing questions to deal with right now. "So, why am I here if I'm not dead?"

"Because God commanded it," Joshua said with finality. Chuck took a step backwards in shock.

"God wants me dead?" He asked, slightly pessimistically.

"God wants Chuck dead." Joshua said shortly, and Chuck thew his hands into the air in exasperation.

"Dude, I don't know if this got lost in translation, but my name is Chuck! Killing Chuck sorta means killing me!"

Joshua put a calming hand on his shoulder and instantly, Chuck felt warmth reach every corner of his soul; as though someone had given him a weaker version of a tranquilliser. Seeing Joshua wasn't going to answer that question, Chuck asked the next one that he'd been thinking about the moment he appeared here; "And what about Harry? Where is he? Is he alright?"

Joshua seemed to think about it for a moment, and he smiled again, this time knowingly, "Harry Potter has called the Winchester's, they are taking him back to their Men of Letters Base to keep him safe."

Chuck's shoulders sagged in relief, "Thank God," he muttered, then he turned back to Joshua, "So what now, what does God want me to do? Am I to stay here?"

Joshua took a deep breath and guided Chuck to a bench (that had mysteriously appeared for seconds ago, when Chuck had looked around, he hadn't seen anything of the sort). "A millennia ago, God lost faith in humanity. He was disappointed in them; for they had stopped believing in Him, and they had become weak, they easily succumbed to hedonism and their demons.

"And God left. He let himself fall in to the reincarnation cycle, and lived many lives. In some of those lives, He would gain minimal awareness and He would appear before me. He talked to me for hours, you see, He was lonely. He is lonely. Every time our conversation came to an end, God would go back to Earth and would forget everything, for He wanted to continue that life without disappointments."

Chuck was staring at Joshua with wonder by then. So God was on Earth? God was actually on Earth - he had to get back to Sam and Dean and tell them that. Maybe they would be able to find him and convince him to help with the Darkness!

"He told me, before the first time he left, that when the time was right, and when the world was in danger, when the Winchesters couldn't save the world, that I would have to help him remember." Joshua's final words echoed in Chuck's mind for a moment as though having a deja vu from a past life.

Chuck chuckled, "So why are you telling me this? Where do I come in? Why would God want me dead - what would the use of that be be?"

Joshua smiled knowingly and raised a hand as though to press his index and middle finger against Chuck's head and suddenly the latter understood. Joshua thought he was God. Chuck started laughing, and Joshua's advancing hand stopped moving and hovered in the air uncertainly.

Chuck clutched his stomach as his laughter started to get violent; "You… think… I'm God! A… failed writer. Oh… Becky would love… to hear this!"

Joshua stared at him uncertainly and Chuck moved away from him, sliding down to the other end of the bench. The angel's hand dropped, and when Chuck saw, that his expression was dead serious, his laughter abruptly melt away.

"Wait… you actually believe this crap? You actually believe that I am God. Joshua, I grew up as a human, I can get hurt, and hell - I have a brother. Explain that to me!"

Joshua looked unsure for the first time: "I am unsure how that happened. You engineered Your rebirths so that You wouldn't have siblings You'd have to leave when the time came for You to become God again."

"I cannot awaken your true self without you wanting it," Joshua said slowly, before standing up very suddenly. "I shall send You to heaven to explore, when the time is right for You to accept Yourself, you will find Heaven's Garden by yourself."

And then Chuck for the second time in the last 24 hours, fell into the dark abyss that was unconsciousness.

The moment the Chevrolet Impala rolled up to the large suburban house, Sam and Dean were out like bullets. Both of them had several guns hidden in their sleeves, trousers, shoes etc. and a few knives somewhere in between. Seeing that the light was on in the kitchen, Dean pulled out a gun. He could see a neighbour peeking at them through a curtain, and he moved so that his body impeded her from seeing the gun. Dean gestured to his brother to do the same and then he rang the doorbell.

Almost seconds later, the door opened a crack to reveal one half of a face; a bright green eye and a thin face. The eye widened in surprise, before he closed the door and they heard some rustling - he was probably unlocking the security chain. Moments later, the man threw the door open, then gestured them to move their arses and then proceeded to slam the door shut behind them.

The living room was different than it had been before, Dean decided as he gazed around, the bottles were gone, and it was a little more… liveable. Someone had bought a flatscreen TV which was currently turned off, but from his vantage point, Dean could see a few popcorn boxes lying about. Eyes swinging back to meet the man's, Dean raised his gun again. Sam copied his actions.

"You Harry Potter?"

"Um… yeah," Potter said slowly, curiously staring at the guns, as though they were some sort of foreign weapon - Cas stared at them like that a lot.

"Who the hell are you? Why did we only just find out that you're Chuck's brother? He told us he grew up in foster homes and didn't have any family." Sam's tone was accusing as he said; "What have you done to him?!"

Potter rolled his eyes. "Look, I just found out about him a few months ago and ended up visiting him, we've been living together ever since. I grew up an orphan and wanted to meet more of my family. He's my half-brother. But can we please get back to the reason I called you here?" His tone was polite, but Dean could hear the urgency behind it.

Sam and Dean exchanged a glance. They knew what it was like to be afraid for your brother and both lowered their weapons. "We still have to do some tests, you know, just so that we know that you're not some sort of demon or corporeal manifestation of a spirit or something," Sam said after a moment of silence.

Dean shot him a look that said 'corporeal' - really? Potter gave them a resignated sigh, before rolling up the sleeve of his long sleeved polo shirt. Sammy did all of the tests - silver knife, copper knife, iron, salt water, holy water - the standard tests. And Potter passed them all; for all intents and purposes, he was human.

"So why don't you tell us what happened, Harry?"

By now they were in the kitchen. Sam had tried to make a cup of tea that Harry had sipped once and then set aside, mumbling something about Americans and their inability to make tea. The two brothers stood, leaning against the kitchen counter. Dean's arms were crossed as he stared at Harry distrustfully.

"Well I was reading a book, on uh, well, that's not important right now, and suddenly this dude in a grey suit and two wings about as large as this house. He pointed a finger at me, and I was out, when I woke up, I felt stiff and terrible, like I'd been in a coma for a week, and looked for Chuck, but he was gone. I've been trying to reach him by phone, but it keeps telling me that 'he's out of service'."

"So angel. Right. So we're back to kidnapping prophets." Dean said, rubbing his face with the balls of his hands. "And I thought we had enough of Prophet-drama with Kevin."

Sam pursed his lips. "Well, that is if he is a prophet. Remember Cas told us that only one prophet can be activated at one moment in time? Well, Chuck should have been dead when Kevin was translating the tablets," Sam paused in his rant, "Oh, yeah, and Ernie here can see angels. Which apparently, no one should be able to do without burning their eyes out." *2

"Hey! I resent that. If anyone's Ernie then it's Chuck. Bert's the good-looking one!" Harry said. Then taking a deep breath, he composed himself; "Look, Sam I know you're sceptical, but I am honestly human. I grew up in the suburbs in Surrey, England, went to a normal school (as normal as schools can be) and lived a more or less normal life. I don't know how I saw his wings, I just did. Now, can we please get back to looking for my brother?"

"We've got to take him to the bunker." Dean said turning to Sam who took an unhappy sigh. "Keep him safe. At least that is warded against angels. What if another one decides to kidnap him too - or kill him?" Sam looked unhappy about it, but seemed to agree.

"Uhm, excuse me but did you said bunker?"

Harry was a quiet person. He sat there, at the back of the car, hugging his backpack which he'd filled with things, and stared out the window the entire time. His face was relaxed, but every now and then, when Dean looked into the review mirror, he could see a worried expression dancing in his eyes.

When they arrived at the bunker, Harry took everything in with extreme curiosity. He examined the technology as though he'd never seen any of it before, and he was very cautious with Sam's computer when the large man gave it to him to contact somebody if he wanted to. It was as though he'd grown up and lived most of his adult life with the absence of modern technology.

They quickly found out, that Harry was a book nerd like Sam, but most of the books he read were about magic, or spells; he seemed to find most of them quite gruesome, because he wrinkled his nose at most of them. Sam even swore to Dean once, that he'd seen Harry reading an E.L. James book that they most definitively didn't own themselves and hadn't seen Harry pack when he'd left Chucks house a few weeks ago.

Harry seemed like a simple man; he ate oatmeal for breakfast and didn't eat anything till dinner, when he usually ate whatever take out food Sam and Dean brought back home. He read most of the day, and sometimes even noted down some things in a notebook. Every now and then, he would come to Sam or Dean with a question about some sort of creature or animal.

For the most part, he hadn't changed their every day life. That was, until the incident in April.

Dean had, as usual woken up during the early morning to the sound of his alarm clock, and had forced him to climb out of bed, and go to the kitchen to see if there was any leftover takeout from the night before. If not, he'd have to go get some donuts at the bakery in town.

He found Harry already sitting in the library, for once eating Captain Crunch cereal, he was engrossed in a book and barely even registered Dean until said man sat down in front of him. Dean quickly realised how terrible Harry looked; he had large bags under his eyes, and his eyes were bloodshot. His hair was even more disheveled than usual, and the murky-yellow t-shirt was crumpled as though he'd been turning in bed all night.

"You alright, Harry?"

Harry's eyes slowly met his, and Dean suddenly realised the terror behind them. Nightmares.

Harry sighed tiredly, "Nightmares." He explained and rubbed his temple.

"Wanna talk about it?" Dean asked uncertainly, sincerely hoping that Harry would say no. Sam was better with all that emotional crap.

Harry sighed deeply, "I've been having visions. I don't know why, it's been ages since I had any - the last ones were about ten years ago. I've been having visions of terrible famine and wars, and deaths of so many people and in all of those visions, I am unable to help those people." He closed his eyes in distress, and let the spoon drop back into the bowl. A few drops of milk landed on the table.

"And in one of those visions I think I saw God throwing Lucifer into Hell."

Dean swallowed heavily. Did this confirm Sam's theory that Harry was an angel? Or at least something as old as an angel… Harry could see their wings, and he could go a few days without eating. He sometimes disappeared for a few hours, and reappeared later saying he'd gotten lost in the bunker. And now… this? Was Sam right?

Dean tried to give him a comforting smile, but from the look Harry responded him with, Dean was sure it had looked more like a grimace. "Uh, it'll be ok, Harry. We'll beat the darkness, and we'll find Chuck, and then we'll find out what the hell is wrong with that noggin' of yours, yeah?"

Harry gave him a grateful smile, and then reached forward to grab his spoon and finish his soggy cereal, when he seemed to freeze and the smile vanished only to be replaced by a look of intense pain. Such pain, that it froze the vocal cords and disabled him from crying out. Instantly, Dean was by his side.

The other man toppled out of his seat and fell to the floor - Dean was almost certain he heard something crack (probably the arm he'd landed on). He jerked around, while Dean tried to hold him down.

"SAM!" Dean bellowed loudly, "GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!"

His brother must have been on his way to the library, because he arrived seconds later, only to freeze at the doorway when he saw the scene. Then without a word, he turned and vanished down the hallway, only to come sprinting back, with a syringe filled with an amber liquid.

"Drug-induced coma," Sam explained, jerking his head down at the syringe as he tried to hold down one of Harry's arms while he thrashed around. As soon as that one arm was more or less stable, Sam plunged the syringe into the most visible artery. Almost instantly, Harry's breathing evened out, and he stilled. He became limp and Sam slowly put down the arm he'd been holding. Sam and Dean both leaned backwards in relief.

"These two brothers are so fucked up," Sam finally said, tucking a few strands of hair behind his ear while he tried to calm his breathing.


So, thank you for reading this chapter...

*1 I think Pop is Soda in the US?

*2 Reference to Bert and Ernie...

Anonymous reviews:

Nono: thank you!

Guest: Updates will be coming every week for the next two/three weeks.

Preview for chp. 4:

Dean stepped forwards, noticing that Harry's pallor was gone, and that his cheeks had become rosy once more, "God - Chuck - whatever your name is; what the hell is going on here?"

Chuck closed his eyes and his lips tilted upwards in a content smile. A single tear made its way down is face and into his beard. "My brother;" he explained, "He's back."