The (Other) Nephilim

Chapter Thirty-Two

"Hey guys," I hollered, hopping up the few steps to the library. "I think I've got a lead on Jack!"

Silence.

"Guys?" I tried again. "Dean? Cas? Sam?" Still no answer. Hesitantly, I added, "Chuck? God? Whatever-you-want-me-to-call-you?"

"Oh, hey, kid."

I turned to find Chuck leaning against a pillar behind me. 

"Jeez," I gasped. "How the hell are you so quiet?"

I recieved a shrug in response. "Cas left a few hours ago. And Dean took off to take care of Jack, and Sam just left to handle Dean. Busy, busy, busy."

I didn't need a mirror to know that my shock was evident on my face. "Wait, you know where Jack is? Everyone does? Why didn't someone tell me?"

Another shrug. "I'm pretty sure we all thought you were sleeping or something. Or, maybe Dean didn't want you to show up and screw up his plan, but," yet another shrug. "I didn't really care, to be honest. But you're here now, so," he held out his hand. "Let's go join 'em."

I took it. And we were gone. Boy, do I regret that.

---

Chuck and I appeared next to Sam, who was staring in abject horror at the scene before us. And to be honest, I can't say that I wasn't as well. We were all in a graveyard, I'm not sure where though. Jack was sitting on his knees in front of Dean, who had the "Equalizer" levelled at his forehead. Castiel was standing up from what looked like an awful shove about a dozen yards off. Yet Jack was talking calmly to Dean, as if he wasn't worried in the least. He didn't seem to be trying to persuade him, he just sounded calm, as casual as correcting someone's grammar. 

Sam and I looked to Chuck. "Do something," Sam insisted. Chuck only looked on, immersed in Jack and Dean's standstill. Sam did a double-take. "Wait," I could tell something clicked in his head. "You're enjoying this."

He what? I hardly realized I was backing away from the man calling himself my grandfather, who only hushed Sam, and continued to watch.

I had to do something. I had to. But I couldn't. If I moved to get closer, there's no doubt that Chuck would hold me back from ruining his perfect story. And even if I did somehow get in between Jack and Dean, who's to say that I wouldn't get shot as well? Er, I guess since Dean's saving his shot for Jack, that wouldn't be as likely. But that's not to say that Jack would keep me from interfering. So I stood there, so tense I was barely breathing, and watching as Dean cocked the gun aimed at my cousin, no, my friend's head.

"Dean," I started, but the words caught in my throat. Even I could hear the desperate crack in my voice.

Dean said nothing. I could see his finger squeeze on the trigger. Every second hung in the air like a lifetime. Just another ounce or so of pressure, and Jack would be gone forever. 

I didn't move.

I didn't blink.

I didn't breathe.

I just watched. 

Dean moved. For a horrible terrible second I was sure that he was going to press the gun right up against Jack's head, or worse, pull the trigger.

Except he didn't. He lowered the gun. He eased the hammer back into place, and a relieved breath left me that I wasn't aware I was holding in. It was when he tossed the gun to the side that I started hesitantly approaching the two figures that had become part of a family to me.

"No."

Chuck's voice spooked me so much I'm almost positive I jumped. 

He demanded, "Pick it up!" He spoke with so much rage I wasn't entirely sure this was the same sarcastic, squirrelly man I was talking with a few minutes ago. 

He marched up to Dean and pointed at the gun. All of us were bewildered as we watched him. 

Dean started, "The hell, Chuck?"

He snapped, "This isn't how the story is supposed to end."

"The story?" Cas retorted.

"Lookit," Chuck continued. "The -- the -- the gathering storm, the gun, the -- the father killing his own son." The sicko was so excited he was stumbling over his own words. "This is Abraham and Isaac. This is epic!"

"Wait, what are you saying?" Dean frowned.

"He's saying he's been playing us," Sam snarled. "This whole time."

"Come on," Chuck started, but Sam continued.

"Our entire lives. Mom, Dad -- everything. This is all you because you wrote it all, right? Because," Chuck was shaking his head disappointedly, yet Sam pressed on. "Because what? Because we're your favorite show? Because we're part of your story?"

God turned his attention to the oldest Winchester. "Okay, Dean, no offense, but your brother is stupid and crazy. And that kid is still dangerous. So pick up the gun. Pick it up... pull the trigger... and I'll bring her back. Your mom."

Again, I wanted to do something. I wanted to yell, scream, I wanted to tell Chuck to go fuck himself. But I didn't. I could see the gears turning in Dean's head, weighing out the options. Another second passed where I couldn't breathe.

"No," Dean finally said, and Chuck's face of triumph fell. "No," he repeated, backing away. "My mom was my hero," He informed him, stopping to stand next to me. "And I miss her, and I will miss her every second of my life, but she would not want this." Sam bowed his head. Dean went on, "And it's not like you really even care. 'Cause Sam's right. The Apocalypse, the first go-around with Lucifer and Michael -- you knew everything that was going on, so why the games, Chuck, huh?" The longer Dean talked, the more enraged he became. "Why don't you just snap your fingers and end it?!

"Look, I--"

Sam backed up his brother. "And every other bad thing that we've been killing, been dying over," he scoffed. "Where were you? Just sitting back and watching us suffer so we can do this over and over and over again -- fighting, losing people we love? When does it end? Tell me."

And Chuck, that fucking, shit-for-guts asshole didn't even have the gall to look ashamed. He only stared at the Winchesters with a solemnly upset look on his slimy face. "Dean, don't do this," he persisted, but Dean cut him off.

"No, we're done talking. 'Cause this isn't just a story, it's our LIVES. So God or no God, you go to hell."

Chuck only laughed slightly. He glanced down at his feet, coming to a decision, and looked back up at us. "Have it your way." With that, he snapped. That's when it all went to shit.

A/N: Holy shit it's been a long time since I updated this. Apologies for that and all. I'm gonna be honest, I'm not sure when the next chapter is getting out, but when it does... whoo boy am I excited for that. I've got quite a jig planned out. I may end up scrapping the idea, but hey, it'll still be another chapter out. 

By the way, I'm thinking of starting a new story that's a crossover of Teen Wolf and The Magnus Archives, since TMA doesn't get nearly as much attention in the world of fanfic as it should. The plot is basically that Stiles, after graduation, decides to head to London on a whim. There he ends up working as an Archival Assistant in the Magnus Archives. I've got more planned out, but any more info and I'd be spoiling it, if I even do end up putting it up on here. If you guys would be interested in that sort of story, lemme know! 

Also!!! I made another story, it's a Once Upon A Time crossover with Supernatural, and it's called Baelfire's Brother (pretty on the nose, I know), where Dean heads to Storybrooke and finds out that things aren't quite as they seem in the little town in Maine... So yeah, you can check it out if you're interested!

See ya next time! 

- I still don't have a signoff name!!!