*DRAMATIC THUNDER*

Finally his hand releases its iron grip on her hair (any longer and he might’ve ripped it out!), allowing her head to fall back against the floor with a gruesome thud – one that would surely ensure a concussion for her if she was human. Gee. Would you look at that? The almighty and his mindless sheeps always claim to be the good, pure ones – and yet… what he just pulled on her very much reminds her of one of the punishments dished out in Hell. Isn’t that ironic? He’s probably been wanting to do this ever since ‘betrayed’ him, the shove was just an excuse to go through with it.

Lilith doesn’t sit up. She doesn’t get to her feet to look at him. For a moment, she simply lies there – eyes focused upwards, trying to block everything out as she composes herself (she might be prideful, but even she can admit he did quite a number on her; it’s been a while since she’s ran into someone who’s more powerful). And then, all of sudden, she starts laughing. Loudly. Very loudly. As if she just heard a good joke. And, in a way, she did. He’s not gonna kill her because that’s what she wants? No, no, no. That’s an excuse. If he’s not doing it, it’s because he can’t. She had her suspicious beforehand, but now they’ve been confirmed. “Oh, God…” She starts after taking a deep breath, tone amused and as mocking as ever despite the BEATING she’s just gone through. “You can’t do it, can you? Just snap your fingers and watch me writhe in pain as I await my end… that must be killing you.” Finally, she’s standing – a hand clutching her side. “Don’t worry. We won’t be meeting up again. It’ll be like going back to Eden; no communication between the two of us.”

Lilith stayed where she was, and Chuck looked down at her, hating her. She was a symbol of everything wrong with his creation, now. She was the first betrayer, the first sign of what his humans could be capable of. She’d abandoned his Garden, the companion he’d made for her, and run to Lucifer. She’d become a monster, and she was proud of it, even though she’d been tortured to become what she was. Lilith was beyond saving, just like Castiel. He fluctuated between loving what he’d made, and despising it, and right then, he despised it. Because of Lilith, and what she represented.

And then she started laughing, and Chuck gritted his teeth and curled his hands into fists. Of course, she would try to get right under his skin. It was so typical of a demon. She was trying to provoke him, even when she’d been beaten. Why couldn’t she stop? He waited for her to speak, and he was so angry that he just wanted to snap his fingers and make her disappear, but she was right. He couldn’t do it. He wasn’t powerful enough here, and the fact that she knew was so embarrassing, so infuriating, that he couldn’t speak for a few seconds.

He didn’t say anything as she stood -- there was nothing else to say. She knew why he hadn’t killed her. And he couldn’t give her the satisfaction of trying to repeat his reasoning. She’d seen right through it. She might be evil, but Lilith wasn’t stupid. Chuck couldn’t underestimate her again. He couldn’t let her trick him. He glared at her as she stood, and tried to take satisfaction from seeing her in obvious pain. But it wasn’t good enough. “Fine,” he said. “No communication sounds great to me.”

“you’re lying!” jack exclaimed, his bangs falling in front of his face as he shook his head. he was aware that maybe chuck would get mad if jack shouted at him, but he couldn’t help but be frustrated. chuck was lying to his face, he knew what he had done and now he was acting like a caring, concerned grandparent. “you didn’t try to kill me. you killed me. you burnt my eyes out of my head with a snap of your fingers and sent me to the empty.” a full body shiver ran through jack at the mention of that place. he could understand why cas was glad to be out of there, it was awful. it was worth than the other universe, it was just endless nothing. 

jack couldn’t stop his eyes from flashing golden. it wasn’t a threat, jack wasn’t capable of being threatening. it was just a defense mechanism. chuck scared him, which was hardly surprising considering what had happened the last time they were face to face. “you’re not my grandfather. just like lucifer isn’t my father. you were never there, for me or for castiel. he told me about you.. about how you left them all behind to deal with everything. you never helped. you hid away.” the only family jack needed was sam, dean and castiel. even if they did hate him now. 

When Jack shouted, Chuck had to grit his teeth to stop himself from snapping. The kid was obviously shaken up and confused, but nobody shouted at Chuck at got away with it. He forced himself to stay calm, and just listened. You killed me. Maybe this was some kind of joke? Who, or whatever, had made this world had given Jack false memories to mess with him? But why him, and nobody else? Sure, some people didn’t know where they were really from -- they had fake memories of lives here -- but this was something totally different. Unless the creator of this universe had done this to get to Chuck? That made sense. He was God, after all.

He couldn’t argue with what Jack was saying about what he’d done, because he hadn’t done it, and it was obvious his grandson wasn’t gonna listen. So he focused on the part he could defend himself against. “I didn’t hide,” he said, his tone barely masking how annoyed he was at the accusation. He didn’t wanna freak the kid out even more. He looked into Jack’s golden, glowing, eyes. “I helped them with two apocalypses. I’ve saved Castiel countless times. Did he mention that, huh? How I bought him back to life?” He sighed loudly. “Look, Jack. I know I’ve made some mistakes. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. But I promise, I didn’t kill you.”

hannah’s focused on trying to get an answer out of this poor sap, focused enough to j u m p when a voice rings through the place – causing her grip to lessen slightly (thought not completely) as she turns to see the source of it. it was just… some guy. he seemed to be pretty average, honestly. probably some human that just happened to walk in on this not-so-nice situation. but if hannah’s learned anything, it’s not to TRUST others so easily. vessels always look innocent, no matter what they hold inside. plus, he seems way TOO relaxed. anybody else would’ve yelled and called the police, right ? maybe he’s a supernatural creature, but she can’t quite SENSE which kind.

suspicions are confirmed when he moves her away with a mere wave of his hand, leaving the human to run off screaming – not that she cares much, really. her attention is in this person, now. his identity, more so.  he must be really powerful to be able to do that without a lot of effort. plus, he knows her name. that’s enough to set off any alarms on her head. eyes narrow and she steps forward, chin lifted ; expression uninviting. she doesn’t have a weapon, but she can hold her own if necessary. “who are you?” she doesn’t address any of his other words – tone blunt, and straight to the point. “and what do you want?”

Hannah turned to look at him, her eyes all but freaking glowing with grace, and Chuck raised his hands a little in a surrendering gesture. “Woah, woah, I come in peace,” he said, calmly. He’d faced a lot scarier than an angry angel, and he had a weird sort of respect for Hannah. She’d run Heaven in his absence, and done a really good job of it. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that, and he wanted to tell her he was proud, just as soon as she knew who he was. He smiled a little at her questions -- this was always his favourite bit. Yeah, he hated their reactions, and he was pretty sure he knew how Hannah was gonna react -- the way all the angels had so far -- but it was always fun to tell them who he was.

truth be told, the angel never gave meeting the big man much thought even if he fought for and stood by heaven, whether it be for his name or not. a solider through and through, up until the fateful end which was not on the list ( not this time ) and there was determination. sympathy for a friend and loyalty were two roads to destruction which would not be wandered. but he couldn’t help but feel a little hesitant when learning the truth of the oh so ridiculous being chuck; much more powerful than thought, it felt like a trick and it partially was. hiding in plain sight while everything turned to literal hell had to have been the biggest middle finger to the heavens if there could be one.

balthazar brought himself back up to a more appropriate standing position, below held a smirk still from the previous gesture. was the other really demanding respect at the moment ?? not directly, but with the reaction and rumors, as they were, it surely had to be implied. that led to a rather uncomfortable clearing of the throat from the angel while looking elsewhere - anywhere but into the eyes of a being he spent eons wanting the attention of. then again, which creature didn’t desire an audience with god himself ?? aside from those who may have already. “ of course I am laughing at you. “ boldly stating, “ would you prefer me to kneel and immediately ask for orders ?? I am sure there are other angels who would happily do so. ” he on the other hand had plans that in no way involved entanglement with heavens issues. a skeptical glare quickly followed at the words he heard, “ there’s a possibility I may have run into one. “ tone lowered slightly, “ a favorite of yours, I believe. ” and that is all which needed to be said as far as details were concerned, “ as far as i’m concerned, they put a damper on all things fun and I want nothing to do with them. “

Balthazar was still grinning, and Chuck just looked at him blankly and didn’t smile back. He might have been an absentee father, but he knew when his children were mocking him. He folded his arms, and didn’t look away, even when Balthazar couldn’t meet his gaze. That was something Chuck did well -- the disappointed parent act. He might’ve left Heaven, but he was still so much older than his angels. And he didn’t need to pretend to be disappointed in them. Even his favourites -- Lucifer, Castiel, Metatron -- had all let him down. He didn’t say anything. He just waited for Balthazar to fill the silence.

“Of course I wouldn’t prefer that,” he said, wearily. He hadn’t been lying when he said that made him uncomfortable. From some beings, sure, he expected that display of subservience. But not from an angel like Balthazar. “But I’d expect you to show some respect for your father.” Maybe ‘expect’ was a strong word. He wanted it, but he knew enough about the angels to know that a lot of them weren’t what he’d made them to be. Not anymore. 

was this some kind of sick game that god was playing? he’d killed him, and now he was.. pretending he didn’t know who he was? pretending they’d never met, after he’d burnt his eyes out of his head. jack was scared.. what is this was a part of the story he’d been telling? what if chuck was mad that he’d been brought back from the empty, he didn’t know what he would do to him this time? jack shuffled back a little, placing his hands on the floor under him in case he needed to. chuck was stronger than him though, so if he wanted jack dead, then it didn’t matter how fast he ran. 

there was a tight knot in his stomach, and he remembered sam telling him that sometimes he would get nervous in certain situations, and that it was okay to be nervous, and that if was ever in a situation like that, then they would be there for him– but he was on his own, and the knot in his stomach threatened to make him vomit. 

“i know exactly who you are. you killed me..” he said, a small shake of his head. chuck was being nice, but jack knew that sometimes people were nice to you for the wrong reasons. lucifer had been nice to him, but then he’d tried to kill him. he didn’t want to end up back in the empty again. he didn’t want to be on his own. “why are.. why are you being nice to me?” his entire body was coiled with tension.

The kid moved back, and Chuck raised his hands a little in a gesture of surrender. “Woah, woah,” he said, gently. “It’s okay, Jack.” Of course, Jack would be freaked out. He didn’t know where he was, and Chuck was a stranger to him. He wanted to help. But then his grandson spoke, and Chuck’s reassuring smile fell instantly. You killed me. “I what?” he asked, his voice going a little higher than usual -- an old habit he’d picked up from his time living as a prophet. He’d never met Jack before, at least not face to face. Sure, he’d watched the kid from afar -- how could he not? But kill him?

“Look, Jack. I’ve never met you.” He made no attempt to move back, but sat down and crossed his legs beneath him. It was a vulnerable move, and he was still on the kid’s level. “Sorry about that, but I was just... been really busy.” That wasn’t a total lie. He’d been with Amara. He looked straight into his grandson’s eyes, and wanted to read his mind, to just dip in quickly and see why Jack had said what he’d said. But he couldn’t do that yet. The kid was obviously confused. He thought Chuck was someone else. Maybe Lucifer in a new vessel? Lucifer had tried to kill him, after all.

*· ☆,.- “May I ask how you can be so sure about that?” Tar didn’t wanted to underestimate Chuck, of course not. But, thing was, some would say a Timelord was some sort of God, as well. A statement one could argue about, of course. But a bascially immortal alien race able to travel space and time was what some others would already call godlike, that much she had already learned.

“Too many things. Like, the energy… it does not feel right. I am not sure if that is understandable for anyone who can not sense this energy the way I do. To sum it up, bascially, this Washington DC does not have the same structure on it’s engery level than the Washington DC I used to know. I can not even tell for sure if this planet is really Earth. Or how we can break the barrier surrounding the city that does keep us from leaving.”

“Because I haven’t left,” Chuck replied, bluntly. Sure, this woman would believe in her companion, if he was more powerful than he was, but whoever this guy was, or whatever he was, he couldn’t have left. Not if God himself couldn’t. Chuck refused to believe it. He wasn’t going to argue with someone he just met -- not someone he thought he might like -- but he wasn’t going to change his mind on this either.

the read head knew that the ship had to make headlines again that year. it was the unsinkable ship that did in fact sink. there was no way that people were not aware of it. but she wasn’t sure if it was something that people still remembered at this point. that was over a hundred years ago that it had happened. “i have one person that i met before coming to the states.” the female started. “but that’s another long story considering that he died before we could make it here.”

“Oh, right.” Chuck didn’t really know what to say to that. If this woman had been on the ship he thought she’d been on, then this guy’s death must have been awful. He wanted to comfort her in some way, but he had no idea how. He was kinda out of practise with this sort of thing.

*· ☆,.- Meg already wanted to say something, but kept her mouth shut when realizing that Chuck understood what she meant. Or, at least, it felt like it. “you have most likely more experience with such things,” she therefore said instead, grabbing a bottle to fill up her glass. “Who do you think could it be? Like, I do not want to sound ignorant, but who could trap God is a place like this?” Meg was not stupid, she was aware how powerful Chuck was, and that he could turn her into dust with the blink of an eye. But, it made her even more wonder what was even going on in this place. “Also… sorry for wanting to run earlier. I am just really surprised you want to hang out with someone like me.”

Chuck squinted at Meg for a second, because it sounded like she was patronising him, but he decided to let it go. He saw how scared she’d been when she realised who he really was. She wouldn’t be stupid enough to patronise him. “Yeah,” he replied. “I do.” And then he sighed when she asked who it was, and took a large gulp of his drink. “I don’t know,” he said, even though it pained him to admit it.

She remains on his lap, looking at him expectantly - waiting for an explanation. ‘It’s not another woman’, he says. Alright, sure. She’ll give him that. He doesn’t seem like the cheating type - she got that of him during their first go. Just… the 'break up with you out of nowhere type’. Anyways, it’s not the time to be bitter about that. That’s one down, but he could be hiding a bunch of other things. If not a relationship, maybe another identity… or… something like that (he did go by Carver Edlund for a while - who’s to say Chuck Shurley is the real deal?!).

And then he finally breaks it to her. 'I’m God, Becky’. Pretty casual, right to the point - as if he’s saying his age, or his name. Huh. God. He’s… God. Okay. Okay. She wasn’t expecting that. Yep. Definitely wasn’t expecting that. At all. If you look at her face, it very much shows. 

A moment passes without a sound before Becky starts laughing, right on his face. It’s loud, goes on for a little longer than needed, and says one thing: she doesn’t believe it. Him running into a Greek Goddess? Sure, why not. There’s supernatural creatures all over the Earth. But Chuck, her Chuck, dorky prophet Chuck…. being a God? Not only that - the God. Nah. He has to be joking with her. “Okay, yeah - nice one. What is it, really?”

Becky started laughing. For a second, Chuck just looked at her. Yeah, figured. He knew, he wasn’t the most godly looking person in the world -- that was what he was going for. The whole down-to-earth, ordinary, guy. What if God was one of us kind of deal. He’d half expected Becky to laugh. If Sam and Dean hadn’t had proof of who he was,they’d have probably laughed if he’d told them who he was. His expression didn’t change, and he just looked at Becky patiently. A part of him wanted to smile and say he’d been kidding, that of course he wasn’t God. But he’d said it now, and he had to tell her the truth.

“Really, Becks,” he said, softly. He didn’t know what to do, if he should do some stupid parlour trick like conjure something out of thin air, or tell her something he shouldn’t have known, just to prove his power. But he didn’t wanna freak her out. So instead, he reached up and stroked her hair again, to try to soften the blow of what he was saying. “I came to earth to be on the front lines of the first apocalypse, and I kinda... grew to like it there. So I stuck around.” He didn’t look away from her, willing her to know he was telling the truth. “I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you. But the first time around, no one knew who I was. And now? I didn’t know how to break it to you.”

she let out a sarcastic huff, “very. doctors should not be aloud to work 12 hour days. i am wiped.” she gave a nod of thanks to the bartender as he set the drink down and turned back to the other, “not that i’m complaining…not completely. i love being a surgeon. it’s thrilling. but i just feel like i’m constantly tired.” she looked down and laughed at herself. “sorry, i just word vomited at you. what brings you to this wonderful establishment?” she asks, followed by a sip of her drink.

Deep down, Castiel knew it couldn’t make sense to his father. Because he had never been one. He had been a God, a fucker that did nothing but complain and feel sorry for himself while never trying to understand the other parties, because all he cared about was himself. How was he supposed to make him understand? “It does.” He only answered. “I don’t want you back. I only need someone you never were and you never will be.” But still, it had been someone he had seen in him for the last thirteen billion years, but now it was all so different.

“Aren’t you one though?” One honest question. He was the one giving the plan, ordering the killings, the wars, the murders, punishments and all of those things. For centuries, Castiel had seen how wrong it was for the world but how right he had made it seem to be, and he had said nothing in fear of what would’ve happened if he had done so. It was exactly what Heaven was, a dictatorship. “That’s all you are. A creator. You don’t own me. Nor the other angels.” He stated. “You might have created us, but we don’t owe you anything. Through all those centuries we gave you so much without getting anything in return, if anything? You owe us. We’re not your things, we’re not your soldiers, we’re people. The only person owning us is ourselves. So fuck off.”

That looked painful. Because it was, and Castiel was fighting back the tears that wanted to show up in his eyes. Because he’d be damned if he showed a bloody thing to his father. Finally dropping, the angel tried to catch himself back on his feet. Huge fail. Because the pain resonated in his whole body and he couldn’t even stand up. Fine. Fuck. So he took a deep breath. Because the lack of faith was like something darker, pulling him down. It felt like when the leviathans were here, and he was down in himself, screaming, trying to get back on top, hoping he could say one thing to the others around, that could help him ask for help. It felt like with this poison, when all the bad things came out, and he couldn’t control himself, and he was just down there not able to force it back down. The only difference was that this pain he felt at this precise moment got him back to himself, maybe for a second or two, and he didn’t hold the tears any longer. “I need your help.” He finally said. “I can’t control myself.”

“Of course I’m not,” Chuck snapped. Of course Castiel would see it like that. He was ungrateful for everything -- all the times Chuck had bought him back, all the times he’d rebuilt him from scratch because he couldn’t drag him out of the Empty. Of course Castiel would see his father as some kind of dictator, because he was a child, and children always lashed out at their parents. He folded his arms and listened to his son’s tirade, bored. Wrong, wrong, and wrong again. Of course he owned the angels. Not in a creepy way, but they were his creations. Ergo, he owned them. Chuck didn’t like a lot of the Bible, but there was that passage. The earth is the Lord’s and everything in it. He was down with that.

“I owe you?” he repeated, staring at Castiel. “I don’t owe you anything, son. I’ve been more than patient with you. I’ve explained where I was, why I didn’t answer your prayers. I apologised. But you just won’t listen.” His voice was calm, matter-of-fact, like he was talking to a toddler, because he was. He was old when Castiel was formed. His son might have seen thousands of years, but he was still a child to Chuck. And him cursing like a human was just proof of how far Castiel had fallen. Chuck raised his eyebrows, not so much surprised as amused. Fuck you? Yeah. He sounded just like Dean Winchester.

He watched calmly as Castiel fell apart in front of him. He knew this had happened to Lucifer when he was cast out from Heaven, but he’d never watched it. Castiel’s wings were in tatters, his halo had cracked, and when he fell to his feet, Chuck just looked down at him. It was a real shame, but he didn’t see his son, not really. He saw a rebellious soldier, finally being put in his place. And he turned and walked away. Castiel didn’t want him, he didn’t wanna listen. So he would suffer the consequences of his actions. Just like Lucifer had.

He’d almost made it to the door when Castiel called out to him. I need your help. Chuck stopped walking. He heard the pain in his angel’s voice, the anger and hurt and humiliation. Was it enough? Had he done penance for acting out? It was tricky to decide. He turned around and looked at Castiel, his once-favourite angel, the first one to act out and go his own path, break the rules of the story, the role that an angel was meant to fill. And he sighed. There was every possibility that Castiel would die if he didn’t do something. And it was obvious that it hurt him to admit that he needed God’s help. Castiel had done his time. He deserved to be forgiven.

     the raven-haired woman was wobbling down the sidewalk, eyes trying to get used to the light and her surroundings. being ripped away from the e m p t y and thrust back into a vessel (something she swore she’d never do again unless it was COMPLETELY necessary) wasn’t something she was expecting to hapen. there was no one around with enough power to do such a thing, except maybe god – and even that was a s t r e t c h. he was gone, and if he was around ; why would he bother with one out of the million angels ? she needed answers. and she needed them quick. perhaps she could get them from the person walking behind her - it was a start. in the blink of eye, she turns said being around ; twisting their arm behind their back and slamming them against the nearest wall. she wasn’t in the mood to be the stereotypical ‘good’ angel now, but the soldiers they were known for being among the supernatural (humans had a sugar-coated point of view).  “who are you?” words are spoken through gritted teeth. “and where am i?”

Besides Castiel, Gabriel, and Balthazar, Chuck hadn’t met any angels in this world. He couldn’t sense them either, so he knew they weren’t there. As far as he knew, angels couldn’t hide themselves from him, the way he could hide from them. If there were more angels in Washington -- if Lucifer showed up -- he’d know about it. He always kept an eye out, in case more turned up. He needed to be the first to know. He had to get to them before Castiel did. Castiel would wanna recruit them for his little bid to overthrow Chuck, or whatever the heck he was doing. So, it was imperative that he got to any angels first.

When he sensed Hannah, he teleported to where she was instantly, and left his coffee half-drunk on the table at home. He arrived out of thin air just as she slammed a human against a wall, and twisted his arm before his back. Good to know that not all the angels had forgotten what they were. Chuck made no attempt to stop her, but he called to her from where he stood. “You don’t need to do that,” he said, casually. “That guy doesn’t know where you are.” He waved a hand, and gently moved Hannah off the human, who ran away instantly. Then he studied her hard. She was one of the best angels, literally. She’d run Heaven in his absence, and done well, and he felt strangely proud of her, in a paternal way.

jack thought that god was a good guy. all the stories he’d heard from castiel, sam and dean painted him as someone who stayed out of the way but was there to help when he needed it. a protector, the guy who watched over planet earth. his grandfather. so why had he killed him? sentenced him to an eternity to the empty. jack knew he had done wrong, when he had killed mary. his soul hadn’t been damaged to the point where he hadn’t known that it was bad. he’d wanted to atone, wanted to redeem himself to his family. he didn’t think he had deserved what had happened to him, and he couldn’t understand why? is that what dean and sam had wanted him to do, was locking him in that box not enough? was death the only thing that could have stopped him?

another thing jack couldn’t understand, is why billie had sent him back from the empty? she had said something about him still being needed, but he didn’t know what that meant? he was.. he was useless. every time he tried to help, someone just ended up getting hurt. his family ended up getting hurt. maybe the empty was the best place for him, but regardless, he was back. the time in the empty had left him over sensitive to the bright midday sun and the bustling noise of the city he was in. in comparison to the stark nothing-ness of the empty, it was almost too much to deal with. 

although he may look like a man in his late teens, he was new to this world. he hadn’t ventured out much without his family, and this place– it was unfamiliar. it wasn’t lebanon, he couldn’t sense castiel here. he couldn’t feel the welcome pull of his home, and his family. he was scared. he wanted to go home, if he even had one anymore. he’d found a dark alleyway, shadowed from the sun and tucked himself down between the two building, legs pulled to his chest and arms wrapped tightly around them. if he just waited, and stayed out of trouble, maybe one of his dads would find him.

Chuck had been tracking the powerful beings in D.C. ever since he got there. Any angel, demon, anything with power, he kept tabs. So far, he and Amara were the most powerful beings in the city, but when he felt a surge of energy, he knew what had happened. Jack had finally arrived. He’d kept an eye on his grandson, in his favourite world, just in case the kid went nuclear. But he never had. The Winchesters had taken him in, and kept him on the straight and narrow, and his grandson had turned out pretty pedestrian. And now he was finally here. Whatever force was pulling people from their worlds to this place had finally worked its magic on Jack.

Chuck figured the kid would be confused and pretty freaked -- he might have had experience of other worlds, but nothing like this -- and he’d always wanted to meet his grandson, so he didn’t waste a second. He teleported to where Jack was sitting, huddled in an alleyway by himself. He was radiating anxiety and fear, and Chuck frowned to himself. This wasn’t how he imagined his first meeting with Lucifer’s kid to go, but he just hadn’t bothered to visit Jack in their world. He’d been too busy travelling with Amara, and he knew the Winchesters would’ve had a bunch of questions if he’d gone to see them. So, here he was, standing near his own grandson, having never met him before.