"I know you can do this, Jack. I know you can."
Doubt. His heart was trying to hammer its way out of his chest when he stood in the white halls again, vulnerable, his torso bare, alone. But his enemies would come before him soon.
"I can't."
The angels were there now: Laila, Ariel, Tamiel, Naomi, and others behind them.
"Listen to me, Jack. Yes, you can. You are far stronger than any human, than any angel. Stronger than me, stronger than your father. And no, it's not because of what you are. It's because of who you are. You are good. You are my son, and I know you have strength left in you."
Those words played in Jack's head, and he saw his mother's face, brave, and strong, and kind, filled with love.
"Jack?" Naomi asked, brushing past Laila to come forward.
All the angels seemed too stunned by his presence to grab him, and he used it step forward.
"What are you doing here?" she went on. "We need you, but we thought-"
"I know what you thought," he said. "You thought you hurt me. And you did. You tortured me. You raped me." They all seemed shocked by his words, appalled that a child had said such a thing. In truth he wanted to curl up on the floor in a ball and cry, let himself fall and lay there amongst the white halls forever, but he couldn't. "Yes, Sam taught me what that word means. He taught me a lot of things: Sam, Dean, Castiel, they took care of me. They're my family. You may have told me that you're my family, but you're not. You used me."
"Are you here to kill us?" Naomi questioned, not a tremor in her voice.
"Yes," Jack answered honestly, feeling cold hatred in him, born of pain and the emptiness they'd dug out of him with their machines. But he was doing this so that Heaven could be reborn anew, so they couldn't sew it with seeds of doubt, and evil, so that this couldn't happen again.
"And then after, I'll save Heaven," he declared. "But not because of you, because of me. I found a better way."
Naomi gave him a sad smile, her gray eyes clear, and told him, "I'm glad."
But there was no apology there, and he didn't see an apology from any of the other angels. They still thought they were right, that they had been right, had done what they'd had to do. They'd raped Jack to save Heaven, and in doing so they'd doomed themselves, lowered themselves. Jack closed his eyes, held up his hand, and killed them. Jack killed Naomi for all the times she'd drilled into his head and warped his mind and his memories. Jack killed Laila for the time he'd been held down and she'd lain on top of him, and all the times thereafter. Jack killed Ariel for her soft, sweet lies about playtime and rolling around in bed. Jack killed Tamiel for all her kindness and deception, for showing him the Garden, for raping him just as the others had. Jack killed them for all the wrong they'd done, killed them for the sins of Heaven.
Only a few angels remained once their vessels' bodies dropped to the ground and their wings shown on the floor. They stood still, with bated breath. Heaven lay in darkness. Jack opened his eyes now, glowing gold, focusing on them, judging them for what they were, angels who hadn't touched him, but who had stood by, who had watched.
A male voice cried, "Jack, we never-"
"But you helped," he told them. "And if you didn't help, you let them." He stepped towards them, but went on, "But if I kill you Heaven dies. Don't be them. Or I'll come for you."
They nodded, and then they ran from him down the dark halls, away from the bodies of their fallen brethren, away from him. The lights didn't come back on, but Heaven had not yet fallen.
Jack walked, stepping over the bodies. He wouldn't do this in one of the halls, wouldn't do this in the endless labyrinth of God's soldiers that had led him to torment, wouldn't do it near his old bedroom, or the Room, or even in one of the Heavens inhabited by the souls, but in the Garden. Jack wanted to see the Garden again, the only place where he'd felt belonging, love, even in a godless realm such as this. Here, there was no God, no one that cared, no one that had helped Jack. All his family was down below, on Earth, even with Castiel, an angel.
Castiel wasn't a soldier of Heaven, a soldier of God.
Castiel was a soldier of Earth, of the Winchesters.
Jack had brought him back.
He could bring them back too.
Jack went to the Garden, to the silver-white tree that led to the Axis Mundi, and blinked up at its sprawling beauty. Gold leaves fell down about him in the darkness, and in this darkness, not even lights twinkled in the trees, and the flowers about him seemed lifeless and alone. Jack sat down, closed his eyes, and focused. He could do this.
When he opened his eyes once more he was no longer in the Garden, but in a blank place. There was nothing but black emptiness, and he shuddered back at the sight of it.
Can I do it?
"I know you can do this, Jack. I know you can."
"Hello!" Jack called. "Hello! Anyone?"
This was where Castiel had been when he'd died. Jack was sure of it. But now it was… empty.
Something rose up amidst the blank, multiple somethings, like bodies lying side by side.
Jack felt silly doing this, and felt like he couldn't breathe after everything he'd done, but he must do this, he had to, so he yelled out, voice not echoing in this wide, blank space, "Awake! I command you! Awake!"
A voice rang out, cold, and sharp, "You shall not take them."
"Heaven is dying!" Jack declared, and though he felt wrong in this, he said, "They are mine to take."
Black liquid, like oozing metal and oil rose up before him, even as more forms came up from the ground to lie like the buried dead - hundreds, thousands - and the ooze took shape before him. Jack was looking at himself, and there was no light in its eyes.
"What are you," it asked, "if not mine? You are angel-spawn. You are meant to go to sleep with all of Heaven's angels."
"I'm not one of them," Jack said.
And they began to circle each other, and though it looked like himself, he felt the need to size it up, finding something wrong with the copy that he couldn't quite pinpoint. It was trying its best, but it wasn't him.
"No? Then what are you?"
"I'm Jack."
"Jack is but a name. Are you your name?"
"I'm me. I'm archangel, and human, a Nephilim, born of Kelly Kline, a son of Lucifer, a Winchester, chosen son of Castiel. What are you?"
The thing gestured to itself, smirking. "Can't you see?"
"You're not me."
"I'm this," it explained, spreading its arms out. "I'm the Empty. I'm where you're going to go when you die. I'm it. I'm the end. I'm where Castiel was before you woke him up. He's my property, and you took him from me!" It came forward, grabbing Jack by the jaw and lowering him to his knees, eyes blazing though they still held a nothingness. "And now you dare to take them from me?! They are mine!"
"Heaven is dying!" Jack said.
"Then let it die! Look at what they did to you! Live it again!"
The Empty grabbed his head, and Jack fell to the ground, shuddering, unable to scream, spit dribbling from his mouth. An inhuman sound left him, and pure evil took over his mind.
The drill.
Rape after rape after rape after rape.
The machines.
The drill.
Rape.
Endless.
On and on and on it went.
The machines, the drill, rape.
Rape.
Rape.
Rape.
RAPE.
When Jack came to the Empty was kneeling by him, running a hand through his hair.
"You see, Jack? There's no need to save Heaven. It deserves death, doesn't it? They're mine. You're free of it, free to leave them to me."
Jack was shuddering, hot, cold, sick, face wet with tears. They'd tortured him, they'd raped him, all to save themselves.
They needed saving, even from what they'd done.
Jack turned to the Empty and spoke one word, mustering up what strength he had left: "No."
"What?"
Jack started rising, pushing himself up, getting right in its face. "No. I'm waking them up. I'm bringing them back."
The Empty went for his throat. Jack ended up on the ground, straddled by the entity that looked like him, and he clawed struggling for breath. Its expression was that of twisted madness, like this was its last resort, and Jack was going to die alone here. Maybe he was. He didn't know how to fight, hadn't learned from his family yet.
What would they do, what would they do?
They'd give everything they had. Sam, Dean, Castiel, they didn't give up, and Jack wasn't about to give up on them.
He bashed at the wrists, the elbows, thinking they were weaker there, tried lifting up his head to smack into its face. It didn't make the squeezing pressure on his throat go away, and he couldn't breathe, his head and lungs pounding, but he seemed to have surprised it enough to roll, get on top for a few seconds. They ended up just rolling, scrabbling, arms and legs, pulling and tugging, strangling, and somehow, Jack ended up on top, the Empty facing away from him, Jack having it in a headlock.
"Sleep," Jack commanded.
"You cannot make me."
"Sleep!"
The Empty morphed in his arms, turning from him, to that oily black, and then to nothingness. Jack fell to his hands and knees, breathing hard, feeling at his body to make sure everything was still intact.
Once he caught his breath he stood and faced all the mounds that had risen up, and he raised his arms, and shouted, "Awake!"
And they did. Angels, angels like he'd never see before came from the black, to their feet, all in clothes of white. Jack had been able to place those who had hurt him in this dark place: Cael, Naomi, Laila, Ariel, Tamiel, and to his surprise, Duma, and he let them remain asleep. The others came forward.
"You're dead," Jack told them, even as his eyes searched the crowd, searched these beings that made his skin crawl, that made him want to run. There were two faces he looked for, even as he spoke, "But I've woken you up. Heaven is dying, and it needs you to keep it running."
"Who are you?" a pale-skinned angel asked. She had dark, dark hair in waves down past her shoulders, bangs, and kind, blue eyes. She almost didn't frighten Jack… almost.
"I'm Jack," he answered, feeling as though he should give them all a smile, but was unwilling to. "You should go down to Heaven now. It was dark when I was there."
And so the angels left, departing first one by one, and then in masses till Jack was alone with the two people he had wanted to see. Nathaniel, and Anael stepped forward, and Anael held something in her arms.
"Hi, Jack," Anael greeted. She was in a white sundress, beautiful against the black of the Empty, her stomach flat, and Jack almost wanted to run his hands over it in confusion. Their baby. Where…?
"Hello, Jack." Nathaniel. He too was in white - pants, and a tunic - and just seeing him, especially with Anael made him burn.
Jack dug his nails into his palms, not sure what to do, wanting to hug them, wanting to hurt them, wanting to do things he now knew he was too young to do, things he'd done with them before. His vision blurred, and a tear fell down his cheek.
"I didn't have to wake you up," he explained. "The others who… who... " Jack turned his head down, unable to look at them as he went on, "...raped me… are still sleeping. I killed some of them."
"You know what we did," Nathaniel stated.
Jack nodded, and his body grew numb and tingly. He wasn't sure how he was still standing.
He bit his bottom lip, shaking where he stood, more tears trailing down his cheeks, and when he looked up, both angels were crying too.
Nathaniel seemed to almost reach out, but then pulled himself back. "I won't ever touch you again," he told him. "A-and I'm sorry I ever did. I'm sorry for-for kidnapping you, and helping Duma, and Naomi, and coming up with what they did to you in that room, and taking you there, and - oh, Jack, I'm sorry for everything."
"And I'm sorry, too," Anael said after sniffling. "I got involved to help you, not hurt you. But I did. We wronged you, Jack. We did so many bad things, and I'm so sorry. I never should've touched you."
Jack wanted to feel from their apologies, to understand and know that they had done wrong, that these were bad people apologizing to him, and he realized they were bad people, but they weren't all bad. They'd just done bad things, and he loved them.
But he wasn't ready to forgive them.
And he wondered something else…
Jack wiped his face with the palm of his hand, and asked, "Why aren't we doing this in Heaven? You can say sorry there."
"No, Jack, we can't," Anael said. "Or at least, I can't. Nathaniel?"
He shook his head, a sad smile breaking out on his face, more tears falling. "I can't either."
"No, no! What do you mean?" Jack asked, rushing over to them, now grabbing them. Anael's bundle in her arms stayed hidden, and Jack wondered what it was, but he was too overcome, now feeling too much, hurting so much inside he hardly cared at the moment. A jagged knife was ripping through his heart.
"We're awake," Anael said. "And we're awake because of you, so thank you. But we can't go back. We hurt you, Jack. We hurt you so very badly, and you're such a beautiful, brave, strong boy, and no one deserves your pain."
"Bu-but… No, no! That's not how it's supposed to be! You weren't supposed to die! You weren't! You were saving me, both of you!"
"We were," Nathaniel said, "but we did wrong."
"No, no."
"Jack, you have to let us go," he told him.
Jack fell back and away from them, turning from them, sobbing, shoulders shaking, unable to breathe, head spinning, throat aching. He didn't talk, knowing he wouldn't be able to get words out.
Anael came forward and rested her chin on his shoulder, not letting go of her bundle, which she still hadn't revealed to him.
"It's okay, Jack," she murmured. "It's okay. You have a family. I know because I saw them bleed for you, I saw them fight to get you back. They love you."
Jack turned to her, and took her face in his hands. "I love you," he admitted.
"And I can't love you," she said. "You're a child. All of what I've done is wrong. It's why I have to stay dead."
She pulled out of his touch, and Jack had to swallow back the hurt and bitterness rising up in him. Nathaniel came forward now.
"Jack, you were never the bad guy in this. We were. You're a good kid."
He was suddenly overcome with the urge to ask Nathaniel if he loved him, but he worried that he'd receive the same answer from him as he had from Anael, so he just told him, plain and simple, "I love you."
"I know."
"And I have someone else here who can love you," Anael said, pulling the blanket aside, showing Jack the bundle.
His mouth dropped open, tears stinging in his eyes when he was met with an impossibly tiny face with a little pink mouth, big, bright, brown eyes that stared up at him, and a head swept with little tufts of chestnut.
"This is our daughter, Jack."
Those words almost made him collapse, and he found himself taking her into his arms, cradling her head, so worried about potentially dropping her, or even squeezing her too tight. Too young, too young, too young, were the words echoing in his mind, but looking at that little face, he didn't care. If anything, she could be raised alongside him, and she could be his friend.
"Wh-what do we name her?" Jack asked.
"Why don't you name her?"
Jack shook his head. He couldn't do it. He hadn't been thinking of names, hadn't been planning for this. His daughter had been dead. That's all he'd been ready for.
"Alright, well, what about Anryel?"
"Anryel?" he asked, still staring down at her, finding her odd and beautiful, and filled with so much pain and sadness, but something else as well.
"It means gift."
Jack tore his eyes away, finding a smile on his lips as he looked at Anael. "Gift? It's a good name."
He set his sights back on his daughter now. "Hi, Anryel," he cooed at her. "I'm Jack." And that's how he introduced himself, not dad, not father. Just Jack.
"Thank you," Jack told Anael, and then he shifted, feeling like his time there was up. He had to go. He knew he couldn't leave them awake, and his bottom lip was trembling with what he knew he had to do next. He was so blinded with tears by it, that he couldn't see them fade back into the blackness when he commanded, "Sleep."
Anryel started to cry.
Jack re-entered the graveyard on his knees, the sun rising to a red dawn, and he sobbed, holding his little girl in his arms.
"J-Jack?" Sam called tentatively.
"Jack!"
"Jack!"
The three of them, newly healed were rushing over to him, and about him now, and Jack told them, "Careful. You don't want to hurt her."
He straightened and showed them the baby he'd been crying over. Immediately he was bombarded with surprise, confusion, denial, hurt, sadness, acceptance, and then even love when they looked closer and saw how small she was.
"This is Anryel," Jack told them. "My daughter."
Jack stared at his dads, afraid, somehow feeling so small, and alone, but knowing he wouldn't run from them again, that he wouldn't hurt them, and they wouldn't hurt him.
Dean sighed, as if he'd come to some momentous decision, and swiped his thumb across Anryel's cheek, accidently getting some blood on it. "Welcome to the fucking family, kid."
A/N: And now all that's left of this is the epilogue! I have no idea how I made it here. Last I checked I was in the middle of the story, and then I made it all the way through everything I had planned for months. This has been one hell of a ride, and I'm actually surprised it's coming to a close.