If you want me to leave, I will. I mean - I have to, there are rules-
Michael's frantic, confused words still rang through Adam's ears, and that was the only thing he was thinking about. Doubled over, on his hands and knees, gasping for air, he struggled. He struggled against Michael, trying - not just to push Michael down - but to push him out, and away. The archangel hardly fought him, bewildered at first. But then, when he seemed to realize, really realize what Adam was trying to do, then he resisted. And, gritting his teeth, Adam fought back even farther, as their throat closed up again, as their lungs began to burn, as every vein in their body seemed to be lit aflame, blood boiling, head throbbing, heart pounding.
Adam writhed, arched his back, and let a scream rip from his throat. Not out of pain. Not even out of fear. There was nothing but pure desperation in his tone as he threw his head back and screamed, loud enough and startling enough to make even Chuck freeze. "GET OUT!"
Michael jolted, at once, and something welled up in their throat, something ready to escape. But the archangel dug his claws in as deep as possible, and Adam screamed again and let their head drop teeth clenching. He'd never felt so terrified. Not even as he was faced with the monsters that had killed his mother, right in front of him. The monsters that had dug their teeth into his skin, ripping flesh apart, blood trickling down the skin. The sticky, dirty blood. The memory still made his skin crawl, it still terrified him, it made him want to take a shower and start scrubbing until his skin hurt, until he was almost bleeding again. And he felt that way now, feeling the blood dripping down his chin, bubbling up in his throat. The goosebumps rose, the back of his neck prickled, like cold fingers were running across the skin, simultaneously gentle and far too rough at the same time. But that wasn't even his concern right then. As dirty as he felt. As helpless as he felt. As scared as he was. He was only truly scared for one person.
Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes and, pride be damned, Adam let them.
Get out. Get out. GET OUT. I WANT YOU OUT!
Their breathing hitched, vision blurring with tears, and neither Adam nor Michael were sure who they were from this time. But they didn't fall, not yet, as the archangel struggled to push himself back down, to keep himself rooted to Adam, to keep his Grace intertwined with the demon's soul. But, for the first time, the demon jerked away. He pulled, and he tugged, and he didn't stop until that connection was loosened. He didn't stop until he could feel Michael being ripped away. He didn't stop until he felt completely, utterly hollow, and then he knew he had a chance.
"Adam, no, no," the archangel whimpered, and Adam clenched their teeth, looking up at Chuck for a moment. He couldn't really see past the tears in his eyes, but when he saw the man suddenly recover, the shock vanishing from his face, and his hand raising again - this time to snap his fingers - he couldn't hesitate anymore. Lucifer had told him something once, he'd told him… he'd told him- he who hesitates, disintegrates.
Adam wasn't going to disintegrate, not while Michael was still there.
Michael, the demon snarled, and the archangel's struggles paused for a second, desperation and pain radiating from him. It hurt, it honestly hurt, how terrified Michael was. But Adam wasn't going to let Chuck hurt him. He wasn't going to let him take the archangel from him. Maybe it was selfish. Maybe he wasn't really thinking about how Michael would feel without him, too. But right then, the only thing that mattered to the demon was the archangel's safety. Resolve strengthened, Adam let out a distorted-sounding roar and threw his head back again.
"GET THE FUCK OUT, NOW!"
Startled, Michael didn't have time to fight. He didn't have time to dig his claws in and hold on. Adam's mouth opened, without his permission, choking and gasping. Chuck froze, as a bright, blinding blue light flowed from the demon's mouth - and then, with one last scream of protest, as Michael seemingly snapped back to his senses - too late to fight - another stream of light shot out, and the demon faltered, feeling like he was being completely drained from the inside - and he was. Michael was leaving. And with another bright flash, the light was gone. He was gone.
Adam blinked, slowly letting his gaze flicker around. He felt empty; Completely, utterly empty. Incomplete. But, along with that revelation, came a rush of pure relief, because it meant that Michael wasn't there, he wasn't in front of Chuck, he wasn't where God could hurt him now. He was somewhere safe, somewhere else, and that was all Adam had wanted. The demon brought his eyes back to Chuck, meeting his stunned stare - before another rush of blood rose up to Adam's throat, and he had to double over again to spit it out so that he didn't choke on it. His lower jaw trembled, his eyes stung, burned with tears - and, for the first time since he was a human, they finally began to spill over. Trickling, one by one, down his face, mixing with blood.
And he laughed.
"What… did you do…" Chuck finally choked out, a mixture of stunned and pissed. Adam let his gaze flicker back up to him for a second, his mouth twisting, lips pulling back. Half-baring his teeth, and half grinning, he showed off the blood that had stained his teeth, his lips, the blood still bubbling up from his throat, to the tip of his tongue. "What did you do?" Chuck repeated, clenching his fist, and Adam jerked upright, head lifting, as an invisible hand closed back around his throat, choking him. "Where did he go? Where?!"
Adam's lips twitched, curling back again, across his teeth. He stared at the man for a while - at God - silent and contemplating. There was nothing but terror in his eyes, a crazed kind of fear. Like an animal backed into a corner. An animal that knew it was doomed, but was still fighting. Not even out of anger. Not really. Just complete, total terror. And that… that was satisfying. The demon choked out a laugh, sucking in a wheezing, strangled gasp. And he spoke, choked up and muffled as the words were, despite the hands closing around his throat, unseen, invisible. "F- Fuck… you…"
Chuck's fury seemed to strengthen at that, but the fear in his eyes was insurmountable. It just made Adam want to laugh even harder, even as Chuck suddenly raised a hand, and Adam was standing again. And then he wasn't; Feet inches from the ground, held up in the air by nothing but the pressure around his throat. "You stupid… insignificant little…" He stepped forward, and Adam's shoulders tensed up instinctively, watching him near as he twisted and gasped for air. "I can destroy you," he warned coldly. "I can snap my fingers now and you- you just- you won't exist. You'll be nothing. Forgotten, nonexistent, alone…" He stepped closer, and Adam's struggles ceased, his own fury beginning to brew as Chuck continued on. "I made you irrelevant once, Adam, and I can do it again."
Adam opened his mouth slightly, ready to retort, to tell him that he could go ahead and do that, to tell him to go fuck himself again - but he froze. He blinked, an odd look replacing the fury written across his face, eyebrows pinching together as he fought to make sense of the words. But when that realization struck, he wasn't sure how to feel - I made you irrelevant - as if the only reason Sam and Dean had forgotten about him, as if the only reason he'd been stuck in the Cage for so long was because Chuck… Chuck had…
Chuck drew his head back as the realization flitted across the demon's face, a smile replacing the scowl, dark and cold and evil, and Adam wanted nothing more than to rip him apart limb from limb, piece by piece, to strip the flesh from his bones and make him burn. "You…"
"You didn't fit into the story," Chuck said casually, not giving Adam time to finish his sentence. The demon stared at him, his fury returning at once. "And, to be honest, you still don't. Problem is, I even forgot about your existence! Sam and Dean, they were easy to manipulate. They forgot instantly. I had to get them to move on, see, to get the story going? They wouldn't have stopped trying to go back for you, if I hadn't intervened. And you just didn't fit, so I couldn't allow it. But, with everything that's been going on, I guess you slipped my mind, too."
Adam just stared at him, pissed beyond what words could describe. "So it- it- wasn't th- their fault," he managed to choke out, coughing out another stream of blood and spitting it onto the ground - dangerously close to Chuck's feet, which made him step back, much to the demon's delight - before he brought his gaze back up to Chuck's face. "It was you."
Chuck grinned. "Oops." He paused, dropping his hand; Adam gasped as the pressure on his throat loosened, allowing him to fall back to his trembling knees. The blood stopped rushing, collapsed lungs inflating once again, pounding heart slowing just enough so that it wasn't the only thing he could hear pounding away in his skull. "I could do that again. I could erase you from existence, make Sam and Dean and Michael forget about you…" He flicked his gaze over the demon's face, watching as his pupils shrunk, as the thought of Michael forgetting about him registered - and his grin widened further. "But I won't do that."
Adam narrowed his eyes, not trusting him a bit.
And he was right for doing so; Chuck walked forward again, crouching down in front of the demon, and reached out. Adam pulled away slightly, but he was jerked forward again almost immediately, those invisible hands now clasped on the back of his neck and pulling him forward so that Chuck could press two fingers under his chin, lifting the demon's head up slowly so that Adam had to look at him in the eyes, had to face that cold, heartless grin. "No, I won't do that," he repeated, "because if nothing else, Michael will come back for you. And along with him, will come Lucifer. Maybe even Gabriel. And if Sam and Dean come along? Bonus."
"If you hurt them…" Adam whispered, voice shaking with rage. Chuck rolled his eyes a little bit and pulled away, letting the demon's head drop, and Adam let out a low snarl as he tried to push himself to stand. And he managed to do so, despite the invisible force struggling to push him down; He shoved right back, pushed past it, making his way to his feet. "I'll kill you, bitch."
"Don't think of it as hurting them, then," Chuck replied dismissively, his amused smile not faltering for a second. "Think of it as me, just… writing them out of the story. You know, when a character just doesn't fit in anymore. When a plotline doesn't work. You have to make adjustments. You have to change things. And sometimes, you have to throw out your work altogether - but I don't think I'm gonna have to do that now," he added, looking thoughtful. "Not if I can get the boys back. My connection to them, it's- it's…" His mouth twisted, eyes narrowing. "But if I can get to them again… well…" The fear diminished slowly, replaced with something akin to hope, some dark, morbid, twisted sense of enjoyment. "I might be able to work with this."
"You're sick," Adam snarled, breathless. He wanted to move, but he felt paralyzed now, as if those hands had become chains, rooting him right to the spot. Chuck raised an eyebrow at him absently, not really seeming to be listening. "Sam and Dean won't come," the demon added darkly, and he wasn't sure how to feel about the fact that he didn't even believe his own words. Not really. "And Mich- Michael…" He faltered, glancing down for a second.
"You can go ahead and say Michael won't come back for you, but you know that's a lie," Chuck huffed out a sarcastic-sounding laugh, rolling his eyes to the side. "Another thing I didn't plan on, that bond of yours - but, that could come in handy, too. I mean, hey! It is!" He looked back at the demon, a smile appearing on his face. "Hey, don't look so down, pal. You know what this means, don't you? You're finally of some importance."
Adam flicked his gaze back up to Chuck's face, eyes darkening. "Fuck you," he growled after a few seconds of silence, watching as the man only sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, seeming frustrated, as if Adam just wasn't getting it - but, no, the demon was getting it. Pretty damn clearly, too. "You stupid son of a bitch- you think this is a fucking game?"
"Uh, no. No, not a game. A story." Chuck clasped his hands together. "And it took a pretty bad turn, touch and go for a while, but now I think… I think I might be able to make something of it."
Adam narrowed his eyes slightly at Chuck, more disbelieving than angry now. Here this man stood - this God - but he wasn't talking like Adam would expect God to. There was no true love or compassion in his eyes as he spoke of his creation. There was no respect, no caring toward the humans, the beings that he had made. This wasn't a world, this wasn't a universe, not to God. This was just yet another rough draft; Another story. Entertainment. The way he spoke of his children, expendable, replaceable… He wasn't a Father. He was hardly a God. And he wasn't a writer. Because even writers respect their creations. They respect the characters they make. He was just… he was just a child. A child with too much time, and too much power. A child throwing a tantrum, because he was getting his toys taken away.
He thought back to something his mother used to tell him, something she murmured in his ear every night as she tucked him into bed, kissed his forehead and brushed his hair out of his face. Sleep well, and sweet dreams, my darling angel, she would whisper, soft lips pressing against his head. God will be watching over you.
Looking at the man in front of him now, Adam couldn't help but wonder how the hell she would react to finding out just how wrong she really was. Because, boy, was she wrong.
He watched, shoulders tensing, as Chuck raised a hand and snapped his fingers. For a moment, he expected pain - or, worse, he expected death, despite his earlier threats. But neither came; Instead, the area around them shifted, Hell vanishing almost immediately. Gone, was the lightning. Gone, were the flames off in the distance. The dark. The pit. The platform. And Adam found himself standing, instead, in an old, torn apart house.
There were papers everywhere, scattered across the floor. Windows were broken, the door nearly halfway off its hinges. There was a desk, pushed against the wall, splintered - but what struck Adam were the burn marks across the floor, almost a pattern, leading from the door to the desk. There was a laptop - or what remained of it, as it had been snapped in half, screen shattered, the keys on the keyboard ripped apart and scattered over the top of the desk. The drawers were open, chipped, broken, as if someone had ripped them open without any care as to what was inside. The desk was burnt around the corners, the legs shredded. There were holes in the floor, the ceiling, even the walls. Adam couldn't imagine what had happened here, but it seemed to have been a fight of some sort. An ugly one.
In the center of the torn-up desk, rested a single bottle of whiskey, unopened and unharmed.
Chuck picked his way across the floor, over the shattered glass, the burn marks on the chipped floor, through the spots where the sunlight streamed in through the roof. He nudged a chair aside, veered around the sofa, and reached over to grab the bottle, a small shot glass shimmering to life in his hand; He popped the cap off and poured the whiskey to the brim of the glass, then promptly downed the entire thing in one gulp. Adam stared, only ripping his gaze away when his entire body began to burn from the inside.
It was something akin to the way he felt when he ate something salty. Not all too unpleasant at first, just mildly uncomfortable - but that tingle turned into a burn, and that burn turned into full out flames. He faltered, teeth clenching, almost falling to his knees - but he held himself upright, snarling under his breath, and turned to face Chuck again, baring his teeth. "What did you do?"
Chuck gave him an amused look, and gestured upwards. Adam tilted his head back at once, blinking slightly at what he saw; Etching itself onto the ceiling, a circle began to form, looking as if it were being burned right into the house. Once the circle had formed, a star started to appear in a similar manner, small symbols burned into the gaps between the circle and the star. That burning feeling intensified once it seemed to be complete, but it became bearable, more of a dull ache, after a while. As for Adam, he only recognized the symbol from something he'd seen in the journal Sam had given him to read, their father's journal.
He stared at it, then looked back down at Chuck, almost questioningly, breathing heavily, mouth still somewhat twisted into a snarl as he looked at him. He didn't say a word.
"Might wanna make yourself at home," Chuck told him, pouring himself another shot and taking a smaller sip this time, a satisfied smile appearing on his face. "Might be going out on a bit of a limb here, but, something tells me that you're gonna be here a while."