A Cruel Capricious God

Dean was pissed, "This is freakin' insane. How's this guy know all this stuff?"

I shrugged as I picked up a copy of a book called Yellow Fever. The book was intresting. Dean getting sick, a bunch of rock tunes, and it was a copy of their lives. Rather quite funny watching Dean get frustrated about the books.

Sam shrugged, "You got me."Dean growled, "Everything is in here. I mean everything. From the racist truck to – to me having sex. I'm full-frontal in here, dude."

I watched as he walked over to Sam. I could not figure out his emotions for the life of me. He looked like he was about to cry. Dean also looked like he was about to murder someone.

"I reiterate. Freaking insane."

"I think it's cool!" They glarred at me as I shrugged. I climbed on the couch so I faced them. "I mean how many people have books out there about their lives?"

Sam shook his head, "I did not need the world to know about me having sex with a werewolf."

"Check it out," Dean stated, "There's actually fans. There's not many of them, but still. Did you read this?""Yeah."Dean read off some of the comments about Sam and Dean. Dean rolled his eyes as Sam told him to keep reading. Intrigued I walked behind the boys to cast my eyes down on the screen.

"There are "Sam girls" and "Dean girls" and," Dean looked at Sam, "what's a "slash fan"?

Sam laughed, "As in... Sam-slash-Dean. Together."

Dean's eyes widened like a dear in the headlights, and Sam held back his laughter. I threw my head into the book reading so I did not laugh at Dean. I peered over the book at him.

"Like, together together?"

"Yeah," Sam trailed off.

Dean growled, "They do know we're brothers, right?"

"Doesn't seem to matter," Sam laughed.

I laughed as I walked away, and Sam joined me. We laughed together as Dean got all flustered.

"Oh, come on. That... That's just sick!"

I told the boys to wait in the car while I talked to Chuck inside his house. It was a disaster in here, but I liked it. I felt like I was at home in a way. We were leaving Chuck at home after helping us figure out what to do about Lilith breaking all these seals.

"Chuck?"

"Phoebe?"

I walked into his dinning room with him. He was shorter than me. Curly hair, sweet eyes, and a smile that looked familiar.

"Yeah, I have a question. About your latest novels."

He smiled, "Sure, tell me what it is."

"You know what will happen to me and Sam?"

Chuck tilted his head, "You talking about you awaking a from a dream of you in a dream?"

I nodded my head as I stared down at him. Why did this man have to be gifted with knowing everything in my life. I mean literally everything. He was a prophet of the Lord after all. He knew as much as Mathew, Mark, Luke, and John. Even Metatron! Maybe as much as my Father, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit combined. Prophets: the drunken visionaries of my Father's Creation. Maybe that should be a play on broadway.

"Yes, that one," I said in annoyance.

He shook his head, "I have visions, but I am not Cupid."

I laughed as a terrifying image of my naked brother with a pink bow and arrow cane to mind. Wish it had not. It is probably why I will be alone on every Valentine's Day. Because I have had to live through the horror of Cupid being naked. Which I know I have seen Sam now half naked, but I have never seen a human half naked or naked. You more see the angelic side of the nakedness. It's the reason I would probably prefer any naked human over a naked angel anyday. But, if I am truly a fallen angel now I will wait till marriage. I did not want to make Daddy mad at me

I laughed, "I know Cupid and you aren't him."

Chuck shook his head as if he too saw the image of Cupid that was in my head.

"I also know about your wings."

"Tell Sam and Dean and I will end you," I growled making Chuck back away. "I do not care what you are or who you are. I was trained to be a warrior in heaven and I am skilled at killing, Chuck. I will make sure you regret it."

Chuck gulped, "I know about that too."

I rose a brow at him, "Do you know anything about my father?"

"God?"

I glared at him as I put my hand on my hip. Chuck gulped again in fear. I wasn't going to actually hurt the poor guy. I mean come on what use was a fight with this guy? The last prophet I got into a fight with was a guy named Thomas in 1776. Drunken idiot didn't know what he got himself into. He had no right to tell me to not drink. So, I flipped him over a bar. In exchange—for me not talking about a woman flipping him over the bar—he payed me with his horse.

I sarcastically laughed, "Yes, who else? Santa Clause?"

Chuck stared at me unamused, "The only things I have written about him are with you."

"He never visits me. I mean ever. I was always Daddy's little girl. Now, I don't think I know my Dad anymore." I sighed as I plopped down on the couch, "How many birthdays he has missed. Every year no matter where I am at on the dawn on my creation I pray to him—I mean I try to make small talk-that never goes well."

Chuck asked, "Why is that?"

"He never replies. No signs of him anywhere. Like my father went pouf," I trailed off as saddness sat over me like a cloud.

"Pouf?"

I motioned a tiny explosion, "Pouf."

"I think your Dad cares greatly about you. I mean, look at him meeting you at the creek and at the bus terminal. So far I think you are the only angel he has taken to in a long time."

I looked up at Chuck smiling. I pulled the prophet into a hug, and he struggled. He said things about him not being a hugger. I told him he had no choice in this.

"Chuck, do you have any kids?"

He shook his head that he did not have any. That shocked me for some odd reason. He surly had to be divorced with at least two kids. Then again, this house was a mess so maybe not.

"You give some good fatherly advice for not having any. It almost reminds me of my Dad," I giggled to myself.

"Thanks," Chuck smiled.

"I miss him. Do you think he'll visit his fallen daughter soon?"

Chuck turned to look at me on the couch. I looked at him and saw there was a gleam on him. A happy gleam that every phrophet had. Perhaps it was the alcohol they all consumed.

"I am sure he is always with you," Chuck states.

I nodded knowingly, "I know he is, but like come and talk to me."

Chuck poured and tilted his head in pondering thought, "He will."

I smiled at him as I waved to leave. Chuck waved as I exited his house. My feet made their way to the Impala where Sam and Dean where. My eyes turned back to see Chuck waving at me. I smiled as I waved back. I climbed into the car, and shut the door behind me.

We drove off away from Chuck to where ever the boys were going next. I knew I was running out of time to try and stop Sam from doing something bad. I knew I was running out of time to get my grave back. I knew I was a failure to Heaven. I knew my brother was going to waltz free from Hell no matter what I did. That was the truth, and it stung.

Daughter, I love you.

I looked out the window of the car to the passing houses. All the children playing in the front yards, dogs barking, mothers gardening, and runners. I looked up at the blue sky above me.

I prayed in my head, "I love you too Daddy."