Sighing luxuriously, Amara sank up to her neck in the warm waters of the Jacuzzi, eyes closed with pleasure. After a moment of reveling in the warm waters, scented oil and massage of the jets, the Darkness heard the sound of approaching footsteps and drew a hand up lazily from the tub.
"You can just leave the glass by my hand Manuel," Amara said.
"Sorry, no hablo Español," Chuck's voice spoke and his sister opened her eyes.
"Where's Manuel?" she asked, sinking deeper beneath the water, only her head visible.
Chuck shrugged, hands in his pockets.
"What are you doing here?" Amara asked, suspicious.
Her brother looked around, rocking on his feet for a moment, "Notice anything different about me, sis?"
Amara narrowed her eyes but didn't answer.
"I'm feeling much better," Chuck prompted, "Thanks for asking."
"Do you?" Amara asked with a disinterested tone, feigning ignorance.
Chuck chuckled, "Don't play dumb, Amara, it doesn't suit you. I know you knew something wasn't right."
Amara did her best to look surprised.
"Now that I'm feeling more like myself," Chuck continued, "I thought we could continue where we left off."
Before the Darkness could respond, Manuel stepped into the room, crossing the marble floor with light footsteps he approached God and His sister with a single glass of red wine on a silver platter.
Chuck reached out and took the glass of wine from the tray and took a sip.
"Hm you have good taste, sis," he commented as Manuel retreated.
"How did you?" Amara waved a hand to indicate the rest of her question.
"Oh! Well, it was all up to Sam, you see!" Chuck crouched down at the edge of the Jacuzzi where Amara floated, "It was his hope that everything was going to turn out all right in the end that was preventing our wounds from healing."
Amara raised an eyebrow.
"What did you do to the boy?" she asked nonchalantly.
Chuck smiled smugly, "I just showed him what would happen if they went ahead with their plan to trap me. It wasn't pretty, trust me, but it had to be done."
Amara pushed herself away from the edge of the tub and moved to its centre, turning to face her brother.
"Why can't you just leave the Winchesters alone? Why are you so fixated on them? It has to be unhealthy."
Chuck frowned slightly, dipping the hand not holding the glass of wine into the warm water.
"You wouldn't understand," he muttered.
Again, Amara narrowed her eyes but did not respond.
"So what are you going to do now?"
Chuck looked up, took a sip of wine and smiled, "I'm working on getting my ending."
"Well, if you're going in that direction," Amara commented, "You don't need me."
Before Chuck could respond, the Darkness had vanished from the Jacuzzi.
W
Amara laid on a towel on a white sand beach, the crying of seagulls and the crashing of waves the only sounds.
"So, as I was saying…"
The Darkness looked up to see Chuck seated cross-legged beside her in the sand.
"Do you mind?" Amara asked, indicating her small, black bikini.
"Not at all," Chuck replied, "As I was saying, I think…"
SPN
Dean looked up curiously as Sam climbed up to the main floor of the Bunker, his arms loaded with books.
"Really?" he asked.
Sam glanced down at the tomes in his arms, "We need to find a way to stop Chuck, and, since we can't kill or trap him…"
Sam trailed off, shrugging his shoulders.
The younger Winchester dumped the books onto the table, forcing Dean to move his beer bottle out of the way.
"Haven't you already read through everything though?" Dean asked.
Again, Sam shrugged, "Sure, but maybe we'll find something new, something we never noticed before."
"We?" Dean asked.
Sam looked up sharply.
"Cas is in Heaven trying to find out where Chuck's got to," Sam said, "And… I could really use your help researching."
A part of Dean wanted to tell Sam that he was wasting his time but he couldn't. Instead he sighed and slid a thick tome across the table, "What are we looking for exactly?"
Sam shook his head, "I'm not sure; I don't think anyone has ever tried to get rid of God."
Dean took a swig of beer, "Great, so we're looking for a needle in a haystack."
"Anything that could help us get the jump on Chuck, as long as it doesn't involve murdering him or trapping him."
Dean nodded, "I get it."
They lapsed into silence, only the sound of turning pages and Dean's drinking could be heard.
W
"I'm sorry Sammy," Dean rubbed his temples with his thumbs as though he had a headache, "I just don't think this is going to work."
Sam looked up from the book he was reading, his eyes gritty with tiredness and his heartrate sped up.
"We have to keep looking, Dean," he insisted, "We can't give up."
His brother looked at him, startled.
"Let me just grab some Advil or something and I'll come back," Dean said quietly and left the room.
Sam sat back in his chair and closed his eyes for a moment.
This was never supposed to happen. They were supposed to make their own destiny, pave their own road. At one time they would have spat in the face of anyone trying to turn them into puppets.
Sam knew he'd messed up back in that casino. Chuck knew exactly what he was afraid of and had taken advantage of it.
He wished he could take it back but it was too late now and their only hope, their only chance- albeit a small one- was to find a way to stop Chuck without killing or trapping Him. Even Sam had to admit that it didn't seem at all possible that there was a way for this to end favourably.
Footsteps announced Dean's return and Sam opened his eyes again and stared at the book on the table in front of him. As Dean sat he plunked a bottle of beer down in front of Sam.
"Thought you could use some refreshment," Dean leaned back in his chair and opened his own bottle of beer.
Sam ignored his beer.
"Dean," he said, not looking up from the tome, "I'm-"
"You've already apologized," Dean interrupted, "And besides, I don't blame you."
Sam looked up at his sibling.
"What Chuck did was sneaky," Dean continued, "Playing Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come to your Scrooge and all that. He knew exactly what to show you to get you to give in."
Sam shook his head, "I shouldn't have listened to Him, Dean. You didn't when Zachariah showed you the future."
"You're right," Dean agreed, "I didn't trust that asshole-"
Sam lowered his gaze again, shame-faced.
"But, Sammy," Dean continued, "That was different."
The younger Winchester wanted to ask exactly how that had been different. To him, it simply seemed as though Dean had been stronger than him when faced with what could happen if he didn't play along with some supernatural beings idea of what the future had in store for them. Instead, he kept his mouth shut.
"Sure, we can't trap Chuck or kill Him but there has to be another way to stop this. We've been up against worse odds and come out on the other side," Dean tried to reassure Sam.
"I guess," Sam muttered.
"Don't just guess," Dean chastised, "Believe it."
Sam sighed. Dean reached across the table and took hold of his brother's wrist.
"You're the one always fighting no matter how screwed we seem to be. Even when I want to throw in the towel, you don't let me. C'mon, we need that spirit… I need that spirit now."
Dean smiled and Sam returned the expression, if weakly.
The older brother took a swig of beer and returned his gaze to his book, "Let's see what we can find."
SPN
"I don't care!" Amara snapped at her brother, shocking Him into silence.
"I don't want to talk about the Winchesters anymore!" she snarled, "Sam and Dean this, and Sam and Dean that… You're obsessed and I'm tired of it!"
Chuck, to His credit, looked hurt.
"You've planned this grand ending for them, you want to see them kill each other but, have you ever thought about what you'll do once their dead? What are you going to do when you've finally broken your playthings?"
Chuck paused for a moment, thinking. Amara let Him.
"I'll bring them back," Chuck decided, "And start over again."
Amara shook her head, "You're sick, you know that?"
"What do you mean? I can't be sick, I'm God," Chuck argued, irritated.
"You're sick and you're a hypocrite," Amara almost smiled. She liked that she was able to rile her brother up, even after millennia apart.
"You gave humans," Amara continued, "All humans free will and then You get upset when they don't do what You want them to."
Chuck shook his head, "Sam and Dean are different. They still have free will but I just give them suggestions of what they should do. I don't force them to do anything. They make those choices all on their own. I simply show let them know what will happen if they choose wrong."
Amara shook her head again, "Hypocrite."
Chuck ignored her. He didn't need her approval. He'd do what He liked and Amara couldn't do anything about it.
SPN
Sam picked distractedly at his dinner, not hungry in the slightest.
"Are you going to eat that?" Dean asked, pointing at his brother's untouched plate with his fork.
"Go ahead," Sam muttered, shoving his plate across the table, "I'm going to bed."
The younger Winchester stood up and both he and his brother looked up at the sound of the Bunker's door creaking open before slamming shut.
"Cas is back" Dean shot off his chair and ran out of the kitchen just ahead of Sam.
They met the angel in the Bunker's main room and stopped. Cas looked a little worse for wear. One side of his trench coat hung off his shoulder, his tie was missing, his hair was sticking up in odd angles, he had a black eye and a split lip which had bled onto the collar of his dress shirt.
"Jesus, Cas, are you okay? What the hell happened?" Dean asked.
"I'm fine," the angel replied as though his appearance was nothing more than a mild inconvenience.
"Do you know where Chuck is?" Sam asked tentatively.
Cas shook his head, "The other angels didn't know."
"Did they do this to you?" Dean asked.
The angel shrugged, "It doesn't matter."
Dean looked at Sam and then back at the angel.
"Let's get you a beer," he told his friend, "You look like you need one."
Cas smiled despite his injured lip, "Thank you."
The trio headed back into the kitchen.
W
Sam checked his watch and sighed. It was nearly three in the morning and he should have been asleep long ago. After Castiel's return though, he'd found a renewed need to search for a way to stop Chuck and had ended up reading late into the night long after his brother and Cas had gone to bed.
Reaching out to close the books scattered across the table, he jumped at the sound of footsteps behind him.
Amara stood just behind his chair, dressed in a gauzy black blouse, skin-tight jeans and black suede pumps.
"Amara!" Sam exclaimed, standing up as he did so, wary, "What do you want?"
The Darkness held her hands up, palms out, "I come in peace."
Sam's expression remained suspicious.
Amara sighed, "I want to help you."
"Why?" Sam asked.
The Darkness flipped her long dark hair over her shoulder, "Because my dear brother is driving me up the wall."
Sam didn't reply.
"All He talks about lately is you and Dean and how He's going to get His perfect ending and I can't stand it anymore," Amara elaborated, "If I have to hear your names come out of His mouth one more time…"
"How can you help us?" Sam asked, "We tried to trap Him like He did to you but…"
Amara smiled, "That was such an amateur move. I know how to stop Him for good and I need your help to do so."
Sam nodded, "Let me just get Dean and Cas."
"I'll be here," Amara sat down in the hunter's vacated chair to wait as Sam hurried to wake his brother and friend.
SPN
"You really want to help us?" Dean asked warily, "This isn't some trick?"
"I know, surprising how I can't stand my own brother anymore," Amara commented sarcastically.
"I can't stand Him but He and I are evenly matched," she explained, "I can't fight Him and win. All we would do was destroy the Earth in the process."
"But you need us?" Sam asked, "Humans?"
Amara nodded.
"There is a spell," the Darkness explained, "A ritual… very, very old, almost entirely forgotten, that could, theoretically cut my dear brother down to size."
"How?" Castiel asked.
"If the spell works it will transfer all of Chuck's celestial powers to another," Amara told them. Three sets of eyes just stared at her in a mixture of disbelief and amusement.
"You mean, someone will get Chuck's powers and He will be… what, mortal?" Dean asked.
Amara nodded, "That's the gist of it."
"But must it be a human? Castiel asked.
"I am too strong already and you, we already know what you do when given godlike abilities," Amara chided the angel.
"A human with no supernatural or magical abilities would be the ideal vessel for Chuck's powers," Amara continued.
"What are the risks?" Sam asked. There were always risks.
"The power could be too much for whoever agrees to take them and they could kill them," Amara explained.
"Sounds reasonable to me," Dean said, trying to be funny.
Amara stared unsmilingly at Dean, "It would be like detonating an atomic bomb inside a closet. The closet and its surroundings would be incinerated. The human's soul would be obliterated; no Heaven, no Hell, no afterlife at all. It would simply cease to exist."
Dean turned to Cas, "What do you think?"
The angel looked alarmed, "You are considering this?"
"Hell yeah, I'm considering it," Dean argued, "We have no other leads on how to deal with Chuck. Besides, there's probably a fifty-fifty chance this works out. We don't have a lot of options here."
"What if it fails?" Cas asked.
"What if it works?" Dean countered, "Cas, this could be our only chance."
The angel shook his head, "It's ultimately your decision."
Dean turned to Amara, "We have to try it at least."
The Darkness smiled, "I knew you would. Now, the only question is which one of you wants to be the vessel for all that power?"
Before Dean could open his mouth, Sam spoke up, "I'll do it."
"What? No, Sam," Dean stared at his sibling.
The younger man held his hand up, "It's my fault we weren't able to trap Chuck. I want to… I need to do something right."
"Sam, I told you-" Dean began but Amara interrupted, "You'll need to gather some ingredients."
SPN
Cas had gone again- gathering the ingredients Amara had listed. Sam was hunched over the ancient, brittle piece of papyrus Amara had produced- words for the spell written in some forgotten language she said the hunter didn't need to know the translations of- to ensure he pronounced every unfamiliar syllable correctly.
Dean and the Darkness herself stood in the kitchen; the older Winchester making pancakes- his brother's favourite breakfast- while Amara watched.
"Will it hurt?" Dean asked as he flipped over a pancake, "I mean, if this spell of yours works and Sam get's Chuck's powers, will it be painful?"
"I don't know," Amara answered truthfully.
The hunter nodded and slid the cake from the pan onto a plate.
Just then Dean paused in his cooking as the chords to 'Smoke on the Water' trilled from the pocket of his jeans and he sat his spatula down.
"Cas, tell me you have all the ingredients," Dean answered.
"Almost, but Dean…" the angel hesitated.
"What? What's wrong?" Dean asked.
"Are you and Sam certain you want to do this?" he asked, "There is a very real chance your brother could die and not only that… I don't trust Amara completely."
"It's not my decision," Dean said, "It's Sam's and yes, I do trust her. The enemy of my enemy and all that."
"What if it doesn't work and Sam dies, what then?" Cas asked.
"Then we try again," Dean responded.
Cas didn't reply. He had known the Winchesters long enough to know when they got it into their heads to do something dangerous- even life-threatening- it was all but impossible to change their minds.
The angel sighed, "All right, Dean, but please, if this doesn't work, promise me you won't try again."
Dean didn't speak for a moment.
"Dean?" Cas asked.
"I can't, Cas," Dean replied.
"Dean-" the angel started but the hunter interrupted, "We'll talk when you get back."
Dean ended the call and shoved the phone back into his pocket, returning his attention to the pancakes.
W
"C'mon Sammy, you should eat something," Dean urged, shoving a plate of steaming pancakes and maple syrup in front of his brother so he had to hold the papyrus out of the way.
"What? As a last meal?" Sam joked. Dean didn't laugh.
"Dean's right," Amara added, "You're going to need all your strength."
Sam set the papyrus down carefully and picked up a fork. Although the last thing he wanted to eat was a sickly-sweet, carb-filled breakfast he did so, to make Dean happy.
W
With the pancakes sitting heavily in his stomach, Sam returned his attention to Amara's papyrus. Dean sat across from him, tapping his fingers nervously against the table. The Darkness herself was flipping carelessly through one of the Bunker's many tomes collected the Men of Letters.
"Could you stop doing that, Dean? It's not helping," Sam looked up at his sibling. Dean paused and lowered his hand, "Sorry."
"Did Cas say how long he would be?" Sam asked his brother.
Dean shook his head, "He said he was almost done."
Both Winchesters turned to Amara.
"Don't look at me," she commented nonchalantly, "I don't know where to find the blood of the shadhavar."
"What-" Dean began, about to ask what the hell a 'sad-haver' was but the Bunker's main door opened and Castiel appeared on the threshold.
"Cas!" Dean stood up quickly and ran to his friend, "Did you get everything?"
The angel nodded as he descended the stairs, "I did, but Dean, I still have reservation about-"
"Amara, when can we do this?" Dean interrupted, turning to the Darkness.
"As soon as your brother is ready," she replied, her dark eyes on Sam.
"Sammy?" Dean asked and Sam nodded, "Let's do it."
"Do we have to prepare any of the ingredients?" Dean asked Amara and she shook her head, "That's the beauty of this spell, it's extremely simple. You just need to combine the ingredients, drink them and then say the magic words."
"Drink them?" Cas asked, "But, surely they would poison a human?"
"If the spell backfires, the last thing you'll be worrying about is Sam getting poisoned," Amara reminded them.
The angel turned to Dean, "I really think you need to reconsider this-"
"Sam, you still all for it?" Dean asked his brother.
"This is our last chance to stop Chuck, Cas," he replied, "We have to take it, whatever the cost."
The angel's shoulders sank and he sighed, "You're right. I still don't feel comfortable with this but I won't argue."
Dean put an arm across his friend's shoulders, "It'll work out, Cas, it always does."
SPN
Dean would be lying if he said he wasn't anxious. In reality he was as scared as hell but he refused to show it. Most of his life had been spent being scared of something or another and yet he just sucked it up and pushed on through that fear and he did so now. He guessed that if they fucked up and the spell went wrong, he wouldn't live long enough to know it, if what Amara had said about it being like a nuke was true.
The four of them were standing in the dungeon, Sam in the middle of the room holding the papyrus in one hand and a coffee mug with the ingredients he had to drink in the other.
"Okay Sam," Amara encouraged, "Bottoms up."
Slowly, the younger Winchester brought the mug to his lips. He looked at his sibling over the rim of the cup for a second before tipping the mug and pouring the liquid into his mouth.
Sam dropped the mug in his haste to cover his mouth with his hand, his body instantly wanting to expel the evil-tasting concoction.
"Sam!" Dean cried and stepped forward as his brother doubled over.
"Don't," Amara warned and Dean froze.
Sam swallowed convulsively and groaned, panting.
"Are you okay?" Dean asked.
"Read the spell, Sam! Now!" Amara demanded.
Sam, his hands shaking as pain raced down his throat and into his stomach, lifted the papyrus so that it nearly touched his nose. Eyes streaming, he stuttered and stammered, struggling to pronounce the words correctly.
Dean watched anxiously, wanting nothing more than to go to his brother's side but knowing he had to wait. He started when he felt a hand wrap around his right bicep and saw from the corner of his eye, Cas standing beside him, as though ready to whisk him away at the first sign of trouble.
Sam groaned and sank to his knees. His free hand wrapped around his abdomen. Dean watched the colour drain from his sibling's face and large drops of sweat bead on his brow.
"C'mon Sammy," he whispered, helpless to assist in any way, "You can do it."
The younger Winchester leaned forward, dry heaving.
"Finish the spell!" Amara snapped, "Do it!"
Dean's gaze slid away from his brother for a fraction of a second to Amara, she was grinning widely, her dark eyes nearly bulging out of her head as she stared at Sam. Fear suddenly trickled down Dean's spine, unbidden. What if this had all been some sort of trick?
Finally, with agonizing slowness, Sam finished the spell and let the papyrus slip from his fingers.
"Sam-" Dean began but was stopped sort when a blinding white light suddenly shone out from where his brother knelt on the floor, forcing him to cover his eyes. A high-pitched whistling sound accompanied the light, vibrating the hunter's eyes in their sockets, his teeth in their gums, increasing in volume until Dean was sure he was going to go deaf when, the sound changed, instead of the high-pitched shriek, a soft, murmuring sound like a thousand people whispering filled the hunter's ears. Dean felt Cas' grip on his arm increase as a wind was whipped up, covering the susurrations and nearly bowling him over as it blew through the room.
Almost as soon as it began, the light, wind and sound vanished, casting the dungeon into gloomy dusk.
"Dean? Dean, can you hear me?" Cas' voice asked from seemingly far away, slowly coming clearer and clearer.
"Cas?" Dean looked up, blinking. He frowned, why was he on the floor?
"Can you stand?" the angel asked and the hunter nodded.
Half the lights in the dungeon had blown out, broken glass littering the concrete floor and in the center of the room, Sam.
"Sammy!" Dean pulled himself up and staggered forward to his brother's prone figure.
"Sam!" Dean rolled his sibling on his back and pressed two fingers to his neck.
"Is he?" Cas asked.
"He's alive," Dean announced around the lump in his throat.
"Does that mean? Did the spell work? Amara?" Dean looked around and saw the Darkness leaning against the wall, looking rather smug.
"Did the spell work?" Dean repeated.
"Only one way to find out," she said, "Let me go find my beloved brother."
SPN
As the first stab of pain drove through Chuck like a rusty icepick, He leaped up from the massage table, startling his masseur.
"What did you do?!" He yelled at the girl who was cowering in a corner, hands up to defend herself, "You b-"
A second stab of pain stopped Chuck in His tracks and He bent at the waist.
"Aaaarrgghhh!" Snarling, angry, having never felt like this before, Chuck held one hand out and waved it at the trembling masseuse, her disintegration His final act as God.
Wave after wave of pain speared Chuck, driving Him onto His knees and then onto His hands and knees.
Breathing raggedly, he didn't even notice when the door to the massage parlour opened and footsteps entered his room. Assaulted by sensations, many of which he did not like, Chuck squeezed his eyes closed.
"Hello Chuck," Amara's voice spoke from above him and he refused to look up.
"What did you do to me?" Chuck asked, his arms shaking, weak, mortal.
"I didn't do anything," Amara told him, the glee evident in her tone, "It was the Winchesters."
"The… Winchesters?" Now Chuck did look up.
Sitting up on his knees, he peered towards his sister's face.
"It was Sam Winchester, in particular," Amara told him, "He took your powers."
Chuck, shocked, let out a chuckle.
"That's impossible," he argued.
"Oh really?" Amara raised an eyebrow.
"The only way to do that is… the… spell of… you… you told them Winchesters how to perform the spell, didn't you?" Chuck asked, no longer laughing.
His sister shrugged, "Guilty as charged."
"Why?"
"You were starting to become a bit too Old Testament for my taste, if you know what I mean," Amara explained.
"But… But… I'm God!" Chuck stammered.
"You might not want to say that too loudly," Amara warned him with a sly smile.
"You can't do this to me! What am I supposed to do now?"
Although he wasn't looking for an answer, Amara provided him with one.
"You're a writer, Chuck," she reminded him, "Why don't you write?"
Before he could reply, she vanished.
"AMARA!" he shouted into the ether.
SPN
"When will he wake up?" Dean asked, peering concernedly down at his sibling, lying in his bed.
"I don't know," Amara replied honestly.
"Will he wake up?" Dean amended.
"Your guess is as good as mine," she answered unhelpfully.
Dean ignored her and brushed his sibling's bangs away from his brow. The colour had returned to Sam's face and the sweat on his skin had dried. He now appeared to be sleeping only.
Amara left the bedroom, to go where, Dean neither knew nor did he care.
"Do you need anything, Dean?" Cas asked.
"Other than for Sam to wake up?" Dean asked unkindly.
The angel remained silent for a moment before answering.
"Yes."
Dean sighed, "No Cas, I'm okay."
After a few moments of silence, Castiel left Dean alone with his brother.
W
Dean checked his watch and suppressed a groan. Hours had passed and Sam still hadn't regained consciousness. Maybe he never would. Maybe having God's powers were too much for him and he was locked in a coma.
Dean shook his head. No, if his brother really had Chuck's powers, surely he'd be able to wake himself up? Right?
The bedroom door creaked open and Cas appeared on the threshold, two steaming mugs of coffee in his hands.
"I thought you could use this," Cas stepped forward and handed a cup to Dean.
"Thanks," the hunter muttered and sipped at the hot, bitter drink.
"Any change?" Cas asked and Dean shook his head.
"Give him time," the angel said.
Dean nodded, "I know I'm just… scared, you know?"
Cas stared at him, "You sounded so sure earlier."
The hunter smiled weakly, "I'm good at bluffing, you should know that by now, Cas."
"Sam will be-" the angel began but stopped when a quiet groan came from the prone figure on the bed.
Dean instantly set his cup of coffee to one side and leaned down towards his sibling.
"Careful Dean," the angel cautioned.
"Sam? Sammy, can you hear me?"
A second groan sounded and Sam's brow furrowed.
"Sammy, hey, come on, wake up," Dean encouraged.
"Nuuuhhh," Sam murmured and slowly his eyes opened.
"Hey Sam, how do you feel?" Dean asked as his sibling blinked up at him.
"I… I… feel…" Sam hesitated, licked his lips, "…nothing."
Dean frowned, "Nothing?"
Sam pulled himself up on his elbows, making Dean take a step back.
"Easy, Sammy, easy," Dean muttered.
The younger Winchester's bangs flopped forward and his brushed them back irritably.
"You okay?" Dean asked as Sam paused, staring at his hand as though seeing it for the first time.
"I… I don't know…" Sam admitted.
"The spell worked, right?" he asked and Dean nodded, "Amara said it did."
Sam looked up at Cas and his mouth dropped open.
"What?" Dean asked, reaching toward his brother instantly.
"I… I see you… Cas… the… the real you…" Sam stammered.
Dean turned to look at the angel and saw only his familiar vessel.
Sam shivered suddenly.
"You okay?" Dean asked and Sam nodded, "Y-Yeah, it's just… the only other time I've seen an angel's true form was… when I was in the Cage."
"If you can see what Cas really looks like, then the spell has to have worked," Dean couldn't help but grin as the realization dawned on him.
"It actually worked, Sammy! Chuck can't mess with us anymore!" he stood up in his excitement, "You've got all his powers now! You can do anything you want!"
Sam stared up at Dean as he went on.
"You could change everything!" Dean exclaimed, his heart pounding, "You could close all the gates of Hell forever! You could bring back Mom and Dad and Jack! We could be rich!"
Sam was shaking his head.
Dean frowned, "What, what's wrong?"
"I can't, Dean," Sam replied.
"But… why?" Dean asked, "You could have everything you'd ever dreamed of! You could bring Jessica back!"
Sam's expression turned sad.
"Sam? What are you thinking?" Dean asked, half-concerned, half-suspicious.
"I'm not going to change anything, Dean. If I did that would make me no better than Chuck. I'm not going to meddle in anyone's lives," Sam told him.
"But… But…" Dean spluttered.
"We could have everyone we loved back," Dean tried, "You could get rid of all the demons and monsters."
Sam shook his head.
"You…" Dean stammered, "You… selfish prick!"
Dean reached out and grabbed his brother by the shoulders.
"Dean!" Cas gasped.
Sam allowed himself to be shaken roughly, his head snapping back and forth.
"Why?!" Dean snapped, "Why not?!"
"Dean," Cas pulled the older brother away.
Sam just looked at him sadly.
"I don't expect you to understand, Dean. But I feel like I would be a hypocrite if I started playing with people."
Dean opened his mouth to speak again but Cas squeezed his shoulder and he said nothing.
Instead, Dean shook his head, "You need some rest, Sam."
He turned to the door and walked out of the room. After a moment's hesitation, Cas followed.
W
"You're with me, right?" Dean leaned against the kitchen counter, bottle of beer in hand, "You want Jack back?"
The angel avoided the hunter's gaze, peeling the label from his own bottle of beer instead.
"I do, Dean, I want that more than anything," Cas muttered, "But Sam has a point."
Dean took a long swig of beer, "Why? Why can't we be selfish for once? After sacrificing everyone and everyone we loved, why can we still get nothing in return?"
Cas had no answer.
"It is up to your brother," he muttered.
Dean finished his beer in two quick swallows before setting it on the counter and wiping his sleeve across his mouth.
"I'll show Sam he's being stupid," he growled and stalked from the kitchen.
"Dean! Wait!" Cas called after him but didn't stop.
The hunter had nearly crossed the main room of the Bunker when its down was ripped from its hinges and tossed down the metal staircase.
"What the hell?" Dean staggered back, one arm thrown up to protect his face.
"Castiel! What have you done!" a deep baritone voice rang out as a large figure darkened the doorway.
"Othniel," Cas spoke from beside Dean.
"You know this asshole?" the hunter asked.
"Unfortunately," Cas muttered.
The looming angel began making his way down the staircase. To Dean, he looked like a demented lumberjack. Build like a tank, the angel's vessel had a long, shaggy red beard and long red hair. He wore dirt-stained blue jeans, Timberlands, and a black and red plaid button down.
"What have you done?" Othniel boomed.
"Easy there, Paul Bunyan," Dean muttered.
Cas, dwarfed by the larger vessel, did not back down.
"I did nothing," he answered truthfully, "The Darkness is the one you seek."
Othniel let out a thunderous laugh of disbelief.
"Do not tell me you cannot control these humans!"
Dean glanced at Cas.
"Uh…"
"He's not quite up-to-date on our relationship," Cas muttered.
"You seem to have sunk even further into disgrace, little brother," Othniel told Cas, "Allowing the Winchesters to form an alliance with the Darkness."
"Has this guy been living under a rock or something?" Dean muttered.
Othniel turned his gaze onto Dean, "Silence!"
With one wave of his hand, the angel sent the hunter flying across the room to crash into the opposite wall.
"Dean!" Cas shouted and made to move to Dean's aid but Othniel stepped in front of him, "Now, tell me what happened and perhaps I will not kill you."
Cas swallowed and peered up at the much larger angel, allowing his blade to slide down his sleeve and into his hand, ready for a fight.
"Othniel," a new voice spoke and both angel turned to see Sam Winchester step into the room.
Cas saw a look of confusion cross Othniel's face.
"I… Yes," the angel replied.
Sam, the personification of calm, stepped up to the angel who still managed to tower over him.
"You like fighting," Sam said. It wasn't a question.
"Yes," Othniel replied, looking straight ahead, not meeting Sam's gaze.
"Why don't you put that to good use and fight demons? Ever thought of that?" Sam asked.
Othniel's mouth twitched, clearly not knowing what to say.
"Please," Sam said and although Cas couldn't' see his face, the angel was certain he was using his 'puppy-dog' eyes.
Without a word, Othniel turned and lumbered back up the stairs and out the door.
Once the angel had vanished, Sam turned to Cas before calling his brother's name.
"Dean!"
Sam hurried over to his sibling's prone form and knelt beside him. Carefully, he lifted his brother's head and Dean opened his eyes, blinking owlishly.
"What happened?"
"There was an angel," Sam told him, "Cas took care of it."
Cas looked at Sam but the human did not look back at him.
"And I missed the fight!" Dean growled angrily and sat up.
"Let's have a beer," the older Winchester suggested and stood, heading in the direction of the kitchen.
Before Sam could follow, Cas reached out and took a hold of his arm.
"Why did you say that?" he asked Sam.
"I don't want Dean to make a big deal about this," the hunter said, sounding more like himself, "I just… I don't want anything to chance and with these new powers… Dean thinks everything should change."
"Sam," Cas began but stopped as his friend looked at him with an expression of real fear.
"I know Dean has the best intentions but…" Sam stammered.
"You're worried he'll use your new abilities for his own benefits," Cas finished.
Sam nodded, "I know he wouldn't do it on purpose but, he'd make me feel like I had to, you know? I've spent enough time being someone's pawn and I can't do it anymore, even if it means I can't stay around."
Cas released Sam's arm.
"I won't let Dean do that," he assured the younger hunter.
"Hey! You two coming or what?" Dean called from down the hall and both Cas and Sam hurried to catch up with him.
Author's Note:
Story title comes from a song of the same name by Placebo.
Just an idea I had of how the brothers can beat Chuck.
The shadhavar is a unicorn-like creature from Persian mythology.
Please take a moment to leave a review if you liked this story.