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Chapter Text

Sam and Dean were busy recounting memories of one of their hunts over a couple a’ beers, when there was a knock at the door. Sam got up, and opening the door, was faced with the sight of the Nephilim he and his brother had helped Cas in raising. The very same Nephilim who was now the capital-G God.

“Jack! Good to see you!” Sam greeted warmly. Jack smiled, moving in for a brief hug before stepping through the door.

“Why didn’t you just pop in, man? I mean, you’re the top dog, you don’t have to go through the door,” Dean asked.

Jack’s smile widened slightly, as he answered Dean’s question. “I may be God, but Cas taught me that it’s rude to just suddenly appear. Besides, there’s no apocalypse going on, so I can afford to be a little bit more polite.”

Sam chuckled, and Dean did have a small smile on his face. As Jack sat down, conjuring himself a beer, Dean commented, “Hey, you shouldn’t be drinking that! You’re only a kid!”

“I’m half-angel, and God of this universe, Dean. I’m old enough if I say I am,” Jack answered smugly.

Sam looked thoughtful, before he replied, “Yeah, that tracks. God power kinda overrules booze power.” Dean sighed in mock exasperation, though he did look extremely fond of the two.

They sat there, chatting for quite a while. As it turned out, Jack had made Cas into a true Archangel, one of many, many changes he had made since becoming the new head honcho of all existence. It was, by this point, at least five years since Sam had arrived in Heaven. He obviously still missed his wife and kids, but Dean was there to help him through it. After all, the pain wasn’t nearly as bad for them. They were on the other side, they just had to wait. (Neither of them brought up how soon that would probably be, given that Sammy’s boys were hunters just like their old man.)

But of course, that happiness did not last for long. There was a knock at the door, and from the ominous feeling they were getting, something was off about whoever it was. Immediately, they mentally went through it could be. Lucifer was, so far as they knew, completely dead, murdered by Michael. Michael was also dead, destroyed by Chuck. They were in Heaven, so it was unlikely to be a demon. And given the power and authority Jack had now, they doubted it was an angel. Other than that, they could think of none of their foes who were both capable of getting here and still alive.

The door opened, and there in the doorway, was a dark and familiar figure. A being they believed they had killed long ago. Dean looked especially terrified, while Sam and Jack looked merely curious.

For there, in the doorway, stood Death Himself. Not Betty, the reaper that Lucifer had killed, nor Billie, who had replaced the old Horseman. No, this was the Death, looking exactly as he had before his death at Dean’s hands, using his own scythe.

His suit was freshly pressed, his hair well-groomed and his shoes shined. His skin was pale, and his physique was, unsurprisingly, quite skeletal. In his right hand (which was wearing the ring), he held the scythe in a loose grip.

“Y-you! You’re supposed to be dead!” Dean stuttered, terrified. He may be dead and in heaven, but he doubted that the Pale Horseman wouldn’t have someway to get his revenge.

“In a manner of speaking, I was,” the familiar voice of the ancient entity mused. “But not quite in the way that you understand it.”

“Dean, is this…?” Jack asked, drawing the attention of the Horseman towards him.

“Ahh, Jack Kline, nice to finally meet you. It seems that unlike that other angel, you actually are the new God.” Death commented. “Good on you for figuring out how to take care of your predecessor. As it turned out, that was exactly what was written in the book. Not that you could have known that…”

“How exactly are you… here?” Sam asked, flinching when Death turned his gaze upon him.

“You forget that I am the same age as the old God, and about the same power. I cannot be destroyed permanently. Using the scythe on me, Dean,” the former hunter gulped, “did immense damage that took decades to heal. That is the only reason I allowed Billie to take my place.”

“Wait, that’s why you chose her? She said it was a ‘law of the universe’!” Dean interjected.

“More like a policy I have in place, just so that the balance is kept. Even while I’m pulling myself back together, there needs to be someone to fill the position. And the first reaper who shows up in the Empty is the one I send back to use my power and authority temporarily.” The reaper revealed. Jack nodded, understanding.

“Speaking of cosmic balance, what exactly is your approach as the new God? I know that it is better than Chuck ever was, but I would like to know, for clarity.” Death asked politely.

Jack brightened slightly, before saying, “My policy is that, generally, I’m pretty hands-off. Unless something major, and I mean major, is happening, I won’t interfere.”

Dean nodded in confirmation, adding, “Yeah, even stuff like the Akrida, he relied on us to do it. He may have made a new Colt, but that was about it.”

Death seemed to be satisfied with Jack’s answer, though he was quite surprised to hear about the Akrida. Once he learned what had happened, he simply muttered, ‘Trust that bastard to have a contingency,” before straightening up.

“Well, this has been quite enlightening, but I really must go. There’s a hurricane going on, and I have to reestablish who’s in charge of the reapers.” He said, before popping out of existence.

It was safe to say that Dean did not sleep very soundly. He may be in Heaven, but Death himself had come back from the grave and personally darkened his doorstep after decades of being gone. Sam let his brother sleep in, knowing just how badly his brother was scared of the Horseman.

It was the same thing that Dean did when he had nightmares of Lucifer. Even now, he still remembered bits and pieces of what that psycho had done. Only the fact that he was in Heaven now, and especially the fact that Jack was always somewhere nearby prevented the full extent of his Hell-trauma from leaking out.

But slowly, they were coming to terms with all that had happened throughout their lives. Finally, they had the time to deal with their shit. After all, they were dead now, and without monsters to fight and ancient evils to face, they had all eternity to work on their problems.

Chapter Text

Chuck Shurley lay in his bed, his body slowly failing. Ever since he had lost his divine power, he had been forced to suffer the mundane agonies of being mortal. Such nasty things that he never truly experienced, though he had on some occasions inflicted these as punishments for displeasing him.

It was infuriating to have to deal with the failure of his carefully created vessel. As a being of his former stature, he had his own distinct physical form rather than needing to possess another like one of his creations did. But the body he was inhabiting had been built and fueled entirely by Godly power. And now that Jack had stripped him of that, he was reliant on what he had created for himself.

By now, decades had passed since the loss of his powers, and his frail mortal shell had begun the inevitable process of decay that preceded death. The latter was an experience he was unfamiliar with, one of the very few that he knew little about. Sure, he had heard the accounts of the resurrected dead, and he had been in Heaven, Hell and the Empty, so he knew everything about the subject in a theoretical sense. But personally, he had no first-hand experience about death.

He had, of course, tried to learn what he could. To that end, he had found the woman destined to be the mother of his next Prophet and sired a son by her, allowing his youngest child a greater level of ability in exchange for him being able to experience his creation through human eyes, including what truly happened during death. But Chuck had not learned anything from their link, and the kid had no real memory of the time he had spent dead upon his resurrection from wherever his soul had ended up.

Of course, now that he was about to face the great unknown himself, his curiosity was subsiding, as the question of who was filling the role of the Pale Horseman raced through his mind. Billie was dead, killed by Dean Winchester – he snarled at the thought of those two disobedient children who had managed to defy and outwit him- and the other reaper who had become Death was killed soon after by Lucifer in order to retrieve the Chief Shinigami’s book. Probably it was one of the reapers who took the position, trying desperately to bring the same order that their two predecessors couldn’t, the same order that their master had kept.

“Not quite, old friend.”

Chuck looked towards the door, seeing the unmistakable figure of the original, the real Horseman of Death. He smiled upon seeing his old acquaintance, asking,

“I’m guessing Billie replacing you was just a cover for your recovery?”

“It was indeed. And now that I’m back and you’re on my figurative doorstep, I thought it best to meet you in person.”

Chuck simply nodded in acceptance, having known this was coming since his earliest encounter with the supreme psychopomp. But he couldn’t resist asking, “Where exactly am I going? After all, I’m just a mortal man now.”

Death’s stony gaze hardened, as his tone became somewhat sharper. “For the safety of what little of your Creation is still here, I think it better to keep you out of the places that mortals go. Some of the angels in Heaven are your creations, and they might feel a lingering sense of loyalty to their father. I can’t have you scheming and making more messes for me to clean up.”

The former deity was flabbergasted as the Grim Reaper continued on, cold fury lacing his words. “And if you were to go to Hell, that ghastly abomination would become a demon stronger and crueler than Lucifer, and twice as cunning. Purgatory is exclusively for monsters, and while letting you be erased by Leviathans would likely be the best option, I know you better than to think you won’t find a way to wriggle out of that. So the only real option left is to treat you as if you like one of your children.”

Chuck stammered, “Y-you don’t mean?”

Death simply huffed, before drily confirming, “Yes. The Empty. It takes power that only shows up in Archangel Nephilim or God himself, and the only living one of both has no intention on bringing you back. And no matter what, you will sleep for all of eternity, unable to make a single mess.”

The man tried to struggle, but his body was old and already dying. His prolonged exposure to Death himself only hastened the process, as despite his furious attempts to remain alive, Chuck Shurley passed on. He was buried in a funeral ceremony attended only by two young men: the grandsons of Sam Winchester, who were attending as specified by the last instructions given by their grandfather. They would only discover the significance of this request afterwards, before heading out on a hunt.

In Heaven, Jack Kline sat down comfortably with the Pale Horseman. The two of them had come to a mutual agreement after their first meeting- Death would be allowed to roam the Earth and oversee the duties of the reapers, and Jack would in turn try not to resurrect people unless absolutely necessary.

Of course, their meeting was about something that Jack had been expecting for years to come: the death of his grandfather. The precise moment that the power of Chuck and Amara had entered his being, he knew that his grandfather was without anything, reduced to the weakest of mortals. But he was no fool; he had seen what evil Chuck was capable of, and he was well aware of what a mortal man could accomplish from watching the Winchesters work. After all, it was partly thanks to them that he had managed to usurp his grandfather’s divinity. So he had approached the Grim Reaper, laying out his concerns.

Naturally, Death was quite averse to each and every one of the possible scenarios Jack had envisioned, eventually proposing sending him to the Empty. That idea was one that Jack liked, as since his reforms pure-hearted Nephilim were accepted into Heaven, as well as angels being allowed to fall in love with and even marry mortals. There were no Archangel Nephils born yet, so he was not yet having to deal with implementing measures to prevent such a resurrection, but he knew that sooner or later, one of his new generals would have a child with a mortal.

That was one of the matters of higher importance on his personal to-do list, but he was sure that he would be able to handle it. After all, he was the Big Man in charge now. Even if his grandfather did return, he could certainly send him back into the Empty with ease.

Chapter Text

The decree was shocking to many of the angels, and many of them would have killed their fellows for suggesting the idea. But because it had had the Most High himself who had suggested it, the Nephilim who had usurped the Primordial Light, no one dared to oppose his will. After all, he was not only a Nephilim born of Lucifer, nor even one who had taken the Heavenly Throne. No, what was most dangerous about him was the people he called family. The Winchesters- the destined vessels of Michael and Lucifer who had helped him to defeat his grandfather and take control over the cosmos.

Jack Kline had changed many things about the cosmos since he took control. For one thing, he had changed Heaven from merely a nostalgia trip to a true afterlife, one where you could put your feet up and relax. And for another, he had gone on the warpath against the legions of Hell, forcing Rowena Macleod as Queen of Hell to give in and submit to his authority. Demonic activity was now being monitored and controlled by the Heavenly Host to allow for just enough temptation to challenge humanity. Any unauthorized demonic possession would now be punished by execution.

But this most recent decree went against all of Heavenly tradition. Out of a sense of mercy towards his fellow Nephils, the Heavenly Father now forbade their murder, and even encouraged members of the Grigori to have children with humans. Even if his reasoning was sound, though, the angels were not used to the idea. Nephilim had been hunted down and killed for millennia, and it would take a long time to change that.

Of course, his reasons came from a very reasonable place- Heaven had lost countless angels during the many wars that had happened, including the multiple coups within the ranks of the Celestial Realm. And while he had been able to turn human souls into angels even before his ascension as God, he knew that they would take time to be properly trained to use their powers right. Hence the idea of siring and raising Nephilim. It would both ensure that the Heavenly Host remained close to humankind and allow for the natural creation of more angels as time went on.

True, this plan had taken quite a lot of convincing to get agreement from the relevant parties- namely Death and the Shadow. Nephilim naturally went to the Empty upon their deaths, but Jack’s proposed alternative would change the Nephils’ experience of death. After some consideration, the other Primordials agreed to his plan- the human souls of the Nephilim would go to their respective afterlife, while their grace would be taken by the Shadow if they were evil and turned into an angel if they were noble. This way, the Heavenly Host would naturally replenish their ranks over time, so long as the angels were good parents.

The boy king of heaven asked his childhood confidant, the current Supreme Archangel Castiel, about the plan. He received a wide-eyed smile and a hug in return. Jack had of course rescued Castiel from the Empty after his sacrifice, in order for him to serve as his personal advisor. He had trusted his father to guide him since he was in the womb, and that trust had not been broken, with the angel helping him see through Duma’s lies and get out of her manipulative clutches. Unsurprisingly, Castiel was ecstatic about the idea, finding it a brilliant solution to the problem of Heaven’s occupancy.

Still, they needed to keep Heaven running. So he had decided on a special initiative, in memory of his family, the Winchester brothers. For those hunters who came to Heaven, he would offer the chance to become an angel and continue fighting against monsters. Some would choose to ascend and become divine soldiers, fighting for the sake of humanity, while others would choose a quiet and peaceful afterlife. He would not judge them if they choose to rest; after all, they had earned it.

A prickling sensation at the edge of his senses reminded him that he had a meeting with a certain someone of importance- his aunt Amara. He had left her in the Garden of Eden for a while, but now it was time to get down to business and ask her what she wanted to do with her eternity. After all, her brother was gone now.

“Honestly, Jack, I was perfectly fine spending time by myself, admiring the wonders of Creation. At least about nature and human ingenuity, my brother was right. Everything is so beautiful. But now… now I don’t know. I feel like I don’t belong here somehow.”

Jack gave her a sympathetic look, before quietly asking, “Is there anything that would make you feel better?”

Amara shrugged, admitting, “I do like watching movies with Dean, but he doesn’t like the same kind of movies that I do.”

“If you let him know that you’re feeling down, I bet he’d find some way to make you feel better.”

“That could work.”

Jack nodded, offering his hand to pull her up from the bench. It was entirely unnecessary, but for the sake of politeness he offered his hand to his aunt. As Amara stood, she asked, “Hey Jack?”

“Yes, auntie?”

“Do you think I could create a universe?”

Jack thought for a second. “I don’t see why not. After all, we’re not complete opposites. You were able to resurrect Mary Winchester, so I wouldn’t be surprised if you can do other things that he could. Are you thinking of doing that?”

“Maybe a little. I may be the Darkness, but I must admit, I’ve grown envious of what my brother built. Maybe I want to see if I can make those kinds of things for myself. And who knows? I’d probably be a better God than my brother was.”

“I don’t doubt it in the slightest,” Jack said with a kind smile, before hugging his aunt.