At least they picked a pretty place. If it was going to all end here, they had an excellent view of the mountains. If things had been different, this would have been the exact kind of spot Dean and Grace would have lived. The group stood over three spell bowls, Sam reading a couple of lines of Latin. He and Grace had devised a spell that would result in a lot of light and nothing more. As they dropped a match into each bowl, three beams of blue light shot up into the sky. Just as expected.

"Well. I guess this is it." They turned to see Chuck standing before them. "This is really how you want this to go down? Fine." He threw them all to the ground, save for Michael, who he embraced. "I always knew it would be you. I pulled Lucifer out just so I could get one of my favorites back on my side. Thanks for the heads up."

"Of course, Father. I -"

"Too bad you sided with the Winchesters," Chuck shrugged, putting a hand on Michael's shoulder. "I thought you would do better. I'm disappointed."

"It was a grave mistake, a desperate lapse of judgment -" But it was too late for Michael. Chuck dissolved him in a ray of white light as the others watched on in horror.

The boys scrambled to their feet, Dean throwing the first punch. It was useless to fistfight God, but they were going to try. As she heard the first of their bones crack, Grace dove for the book that they had left lying on the ground in front of the spell bowls. "Come on, guys. This isn't how you want to do it. You know who I am." Chuck was enjoying this. He could have easily destroyed them, but he was enjoying it, knocking them down just to see them get back up again. These poor little creatures still clinging on to hope. Inspiring, but also one of the more annoying things he had created.

"Screw you," Dean spat, blood dripping from his mouth.

Sam landed the next punch, Chuck trying to twist his arm as he recoiled. "Bring it on."

Grace bit her lip as she pretended to frantically flip through the book. It was one hell of a distraction, but it pained her to listen to their bones cracking and see blood fly as they kept getting knocked down and dragging themselves back up again. But she had to wait. They all had to play their parts to make sure Chuck believed them, believed what they were doing so he wasn't paying attention to who wasn't moving and who was biding their time.

Seeing Chuck throw Dean into the dirt again, she decided it was time. "Hey! Charles!" He turned to look at her as Sam helped his brother up once more. "This isn't how it ends. I won't drop any spoilers, but this new Death - looks like she doesn't have to be a reaper. The messengers of your destruction... I think they were supposed to drive me here. It's not the boys you should be fighting." She stood, conjuring a ball of pure energy. She threw it at him, Chuck dissipating it easily, turning it into a shower of red sparks.

"You want to fight too?" he laughed. "Fine." He raised his hand to throw her into the ground with a burst of energy, but something stopped him, the light in his hand fading out almost instantly. "What are you doing?"

Grace frowned, trying to keep the act up. "What's wrong? Can't keep it up?"

Something moved behind him. "What? Wait." Chuck's face dropped as he turned back to the boys, who were helping each other up again, even though they looked like they had been hit by a train. "What is it? Why are you smiling?"

"Because you lose," Sam said, swaying a bit as he tried to stand. "We have one thing you don't."

"Jack," Chuck smiled, turning to the boy. He looked him up and down, snapping his fingers. Nothing happened. He tried again, jack not going anywhere. Instead, Jack reached up, holding Chuck's face in his hands. His eyes glowed gold as he absorbed the power that Chuck had been summoning. As Grace rushed over to heal the boys, Jack dropped Chuck to the ground.

They formed a circle around the now-mortal man, Grace showing him the empty copy of the book they had brought with. "Only Death can read this. Michael didn't take it too well when he learned you'd asked for Lucifer's help. We knew he'd get desperate and tell you everything."

"Getting you to fight to release even some of that energy was easy," Dean smirked, looking down on him. "And Jack - well, that's how it was written."

Chuck laughed a nervous laugh, trying to sit up. "You know, this is the first time I truly don't know what's going to happen next. To die at your hands - Dean Winchester, the ultimate killer, it would be glorious. Sam Winchester, the heir to the throne of Hell. And Gracie, little Gracie who should've known better and gotten out when she could, you're Hell incarnate. The three of you… this is better than any ending I've ever written."

"No. That's not how this goes," Dean smiled, crouching down to look him in the eye. "This is the ending where you grow old, and you die, and no one remembers you. You're just like us now. It's not your power anymore." He stood up, leading the way back to the car.

Sam and Jack followed, but Grace stayed behind for a moment. "They wanted to do this nobly. Give you some sense of dignity. But all of the shit you put us through, the little race you made us run, you don't deserve that." She delivered a swift kick to his ribs, staying just long enough to hiss, "That's for playing with my life."

They drove off, leaving Chuck there to come to terms with his own sudden mortality. Billions of years, and now he was powerless and completely alone. Stopping in the middle of the town, Jack snapped his fingers and brought everyone back. The once-empty streets were full again, people jogging by, others stopping at the gas station or heading into the nearby supermarket. Life picked up just where it had left off, everyone returned to where they should have been.

He wasn't going to be coming back to the bunker with them. There was a lot of work to do, a lot to fix that Chuck had destroyed. Jack promised he would visit, but for now, there was too much for him to work on. "Chuck put himself in the story. That was his mistake. He made a lot of mistakes, and now it's my job to undo them. I'll see you soon." He smiled, vanishing in a white light.

Just like that it was over. The whole hamster wheel that Chuck had made them run in was gone, the inescapable had been escaped. Walking into the bunker felt different now. They were out. They were free. "We get to write our own stories now," Grace smiled, sitting down on one of the war room tables. "I'll admit, it feels a little weird to not have the fate of the world hanging over our heads."

"We can get back to ghosts and werewolves," Sam added. "No more worrying about archangels or the devil."

"Hey, you should give Eileen a call and make sure she got back alright," Grace suggested, watching Dean walk into the kitchen. "I need a shower. And then I've got to figure out where we go from here."

Grace stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring into her own eyes. Clutching the sink basin, she tried to see anything more than the same eyes she saw every time she looked in the mirror, but there was nothing. No spark of light that hadn't been there before, no new color. Thankfully they hadn't turned black. But she could see things that the boys couldn't. She had seen words on the pages of Chuck's book. She was sure of it. They were all in Enochian, but she could read some of them. Even when Sam said the book was empty, she could see the words starting to form, sentences flowing together. She rubbed her eyes, knowing deep down what this meant. Thinking that she would take a look at the book again, she turned around, Dean materializing behind her. "Hey," she breathed, giving him a hug.

"Congratulations." He leaned in to give her a kiss.

"For what?"

"We got rid of Chuck. Jack's in charge now, which means we can have the kind of life we always wanted."


"What do you want to do once you guys find this yellow-eyed demon and kill it?" Grace asked, staring up at the stars. "All of this craziness will be over. Or at least your dad will settle down a bit."

Dean wrapped his arm around her, letting her lay her head on his shoulder so she wouldn't be lying on the cold glass of the Impala. "I'm still going to be a hunter. I have to be. But maybe I'll open up my own salvage yard like Bobby. Maybe I'll become a fireman. Something - something other than this. Are you still gonna be a lawyer like Sammy?"

"Yeah. I'll convict the human monsters, and we can go hunting the inhuman ones on the weekends," she smiled. "We can have a house by a lake, with big beautiful windows so we can watch the leaves change and the first snowfall. We can go on vacation and not have to leave right after we kill a monster. We can have a life."

"Would you want to have kids?" He twirled a strand of her hair around his finger, imagining what a normal life would be like.

"Not now. Maybe one day. For now, I want us to sort our lives out. Find that demon and kill it so we can move on. So your dad can move on." Her voice soured a little, Dean knowing she wasn't the biggest fan of his father. "I know what you guys lost. I understand. But being hell-bent on revenge for so long that he turned into what he is... it's not healthy for anyone."

He kissed the top of her head, saying, "One day our biggest problem will be getting the kids to school on time and remembering to walk the dog when we're running late for work. One day we're going to have nice, normal lives, Gracie, I promise. We'll have a house and a yard and normal people jobs. No more driving for entire days or sleeping in hotels."

"Do we have to go back to the hotel soon?" she sighed, turning to look at him.

"Dad'll be back soon. We should probably be in the room before he gets there. You know he didn't really want to bring you with. Better not give him any more reason to be mad."

Grace was the first to sit up, hopping off of the Impala. "He's not in that future, is he?"

"No," Dean promised. "He might stop by sometimes, but he's not going to be there too often."


"Yeah," Grace smiled, drawing him closer. "We have so much work to do."

"Work can wait. Tonight it's just us." He leaned in to kiss her again, both of them realizing that they were finally free, finally out of Chuck's story, and yet they still chose each other. Grace had been right. It was all of the little choices that really mattered, all of the independent ones that Chuck had overlooked that really defined who they were. "So what do you want to do?"

"Oh, I can think of a few things."