Archive of Our Own

With Ravi outgrowing his probie position, a new spot had opened up for the 118 to help someone finish the last stretch of their firefighter education. It was a spot that Bobby was hesitant to fill. When you’re in this line of work, the team dynamic is extremely important. Good relationships within their team leads to good teamwork, and good teamwork leads to an efficient and healthy station. Bad teamwork leads to mistakes, and mistakes lead to death. 

As a captain, Bobby knows this very well, hence why it was not without great consideration that he decided to agree to this new add-on. There was nothing inherently wrong with the way his team was before they took on Jack. Putting aside all the interpersonal hardships—and the usual ones that come with the job—the 118 has been doing extremely well.

Which is exactly the reason why Bobby welcomed Jack with open arms. 

Having Ravi as a probationary firefighter was a healthy challenge for the time, not to mention a good exercise in patience, adaptation, and teaching for Buck. So, hiring Jack would simply be an extension of that. 

It doesn’t hurt that Jack seems to already be a formidable firefighter, despite his inexperience. He scored high on every test he took, even broke a few records, and he did it all with a smile. During the physical test, he happily cheered on the other participants, standing at the ready with bottles of water and, oddly enough, some sugary cereal that no responsible parent should ever feed their child as a meal on its own. 

Now, with Jack sitting by the dinner table at the station, stuffing his cheeks with the pasta of the day while listening intently to Buck explaining the ins and outs of how orcas hunt, the young man seems no less excited to be here. He fits right in, even reminds Bobby of Buck back when he first started, if you take away the more rambunctious party aspects of his past personality, that is. 

In a few minutes, Bobby will interrupt whatever topic Buck will have moved onto at that point, and give Jack a chance to talk to some of the others at the table. Don’t get him wrong, he’s happy that Buck seems to get along with Jack right from the start, instead of needing some time to get used to his presence like he did with Ravi, but Bobby also gets the feeling that Jack has a hard time saying no, and it just wouldn’t do that Buck actually manages to talk someone's ear off. 

Not that that’ll likely happen; he doubts anyone at the 118 would let anything bad happen to Jack. They’ve all taken a liking to him, seeing him as some sort of little brother figure. They tease him like siblings do, but not nearly as harshly as they do with each other. They treat him kindly, fondly, despite not having known him for long. Not that that comes as a surprise, Bobby understands the urge to do so fully. There’s just something about Jack, something that makes it hard to not want to shield him from the world, protect him from all its evil. It might be his age, he is the youngest after all, by a lot. 

Jack was barely past nineteen when he finished the academy and started as a probie, but there’s something about him that makes him seem much younger than that. After having worked with him for almost a month, if Bobby hadn’t processed Jack’s papers himself, seen his ID, then he wouldn’t have believed that he was even a day over 18. Not because of his looks, his face is certainly what you would expect from someone his age, but maybe because of his wide-eyed world view. Or maybe it’s just Bobby getting old, feeling like anyone under thirty should still be in diapers. 

But even with the age gap between Jack and the rest of the team, he fits right in. He’s amazingly good at adapting, and he’s level-headed in the field. Although Bobby has noticed that where most probies will think that they’re indestructible, which often makes them overconfident, Jack seems to fall into the other end of that spectrum. He’s careful and attentive in everything he does, sometimes even second-guessing himself a little too much. But he’s always eager to learn, and that’s the important part. He listens well to instructions, but isn’t afraid to ask questions either when there’s something he doesn’t understand. 

Oddly enough, and this is something Bobby has decided not to think too hard about, Jack also seems to have a calming presence on everyone. There will be times when they’re out on a call, or simply processing a bad one, where Jack will get this… Bobby doesn’t even know how to describe it properly, but it’s this quality to his presence that makes you feel like he knows something you don’t, and when he hugs you—because Jack is very much a hugger—you almost feel seen in a way you wouldn’t expect of someone Jack’s age, or anyone, really. 

But for now, Bobby will not try to solve this puzzle quite yet. There’s still time for that, if he ever decides to do it. 

The point is, in the field, Jack fits right in, goes where he’s needed, and stands back when he isn’t quite equipped to help yet. 

Luckily, he also fits in when they’re not at an emergency. 

The conversation around the table flows easily—apparently, Bobby didn’t even need to cut Buck off, Hen did that for him before anyone else got the chance—and Bobby lets himself sit back and enjoy the experience. He’s always loved having his little family together over some good food. He should definitely plan some sort of barbecue with Athena soon so they can invite Jack over. They barely know anything about him, despite working so well with him, and a little private get-together that doesn’t have the risk of being interrupted by an alarm is the perfect time to learn some more. Bobby certainly has questions he’d liked answered, but he also doesn’t want to grill Jack. 

His team, however, never had a problem with grilling probies, and doing it in a friendly way, Chim being the first one to take the leap as he asks, “So, Jack, got any siblings? Preferably younger ones, then Denny and Christopher can have another friend.”

Jack straightens up a bit, slurping a stray noodle and chewing quickly before answering. “Oh! Well, sort of?” He shrugs, his face screwing up in that all too familiar way of someone having a complicated and/or homestiched family. “I do have Claire, but we’re not related by blood. She’s more like Dean and Cas’ adoptive daughter, just without the adoption. She’s older than me though, sorry.”

A few glances are exchanged over the table, none of which Jack seems aware of. Multiple people have question marks around their heads, and none of them seem to know what to ask or who should go first.  

“Dean and Cas, are they your parents?” Eddie speaks up. 

Jack nods eagerly with a smile. “They live back in Kansas with Sam, that’s Dean’s brother, and Claire lives…” He scrunches his eyebrows for a moment, thinking. “I’m actually not sure. She’s traveling right now… for… work. Yeah.”

Not once has Bobby heard Jack assign any title to the people he mentioned. Dean and Cas are confirmed to be, but not referred to as, his parents or his mom and dad—or dad and dad, depending on if Cas is a man or a woman—and Sam isn’t his uncle Sam, despite being Dean’s brother. There’s clearly a story there, but Bobby isn’t going to ask right now. In any case, Jack doesn’t seem bothered by any of it, neither the questions nor the answers he has to give. 

“You’re far away from home then,” Hen speaks up. 

“I know, Dean and Cas weren’t exactly happy about it, but Sam reminded them that I used to be way further away, so that helped.” Jack shrugs.

Bobby’s pretty sure that LA is one of the furthest places you can get from Kansas without crossing water and/or borders. Maybe Jack has been abroad?

He’s just about to ask when Buck speaks up instead. “I’m sorry, I’m a little confused. Why do you call your parents by their first name?” 

A quiet hush settles over the table for a few seconds. Leave it to Buck to toe the line on what could very well be a sensitive question. 

Luckily, Jack seems unbothered, apparently happy to talk about his family, which is a good sign, and one that Bobby is very glad to see. 

“That’s how I got to know them,” Jack says, still smiling. 

“You’re adopted?” Hen guesses, her voice careful but still warm like it always is when she talks to Jack. It hasn’t escaped Bobby’s notice that her tone sometimes borders on the one she uses on the children they sometimes meet on calls, but from what he’s seen, Jack doesn’t mind it at all—if he’s even noticed the similarity—so Bobby hasn’t said anything about it. 

Jack nods. “Yup. Cas is technically my uncle. He met my mom after she got pregnant, and he promised her to protect me, so when she died he took me in. Then I met Dean and Sam,” Jack says, talking like he would if the topic was anything normal, like he’s telling them about what he had for dinner last night. 

Bobby makes a note of that. Parental issues are not uncommon at the 118, but every case is different. He also notices that Jack hasn’t spoken a word about his biological father, and decides that that’s probably a more sensitive subject. 

“Wait wait wait,” Chim says, holding his hands out. “Cas is a man?”

Jack tilts his head quizzingly. “Yes?”

“And Dean, your other dad, is too?”

“Yeah.”

Chim groans while Hen laughs triumphantly. 

Bobby raises his eyebrows. Those two are always the first to bet money on some sort of information or event regarding the other team members, but he has yet to have heard them make one about Jack. Until now, that is. 

Regaining some confidence, Chim sits up sharply, pointing a finger at Hen. “It’s not over yet.” He then shifts his attention back to Jack. “Are they together?” 

Jack seems no less confused, but also not uncomfortable, so Bobby lets it play out. 

“Yeah, they got together… uhh… two– no, three years ago, I think?” 

With that, Chim slums down in his seat, groaning defeatedly. Hen holds out her hand to him expectantly. “Pay up mister. Told you sunshine kid’s got queer parents.”

If Jack is at all offended by his coworkers betting on the sexuality of his parents, he doesn’t show it, and as soon as the money is exchanged, the bell rings. 

Buck is tying his boots for the second time with a deep sigh. It’s not that he doesn’t know how to fasten them properly, it’s just that his mind keeps wandering far enough away that he gets distracted, and his knots fall apart in his weak grip. 

As firefighters, they all experience loss and bad calls. It’s part of the job and something everyone struggles with. Buck still remembers, and mourns, the first time someone he tried to help died. So all in all, it sucks, but it’s something he’s learned to deal with… most of the time, anyway. 

But their new probie, Jack, isn’t as experienced as any of the other members of the 118. The guy is always such a ray of sunshine, and he always has something kind or uplifting to say. He’s also scarily good at the job for a probie. He’s deceivingly strong, and for some reason, luck always seems to be on his side. When equipment fails them, worn down from the tough environment that may or may not be engulfed in flames, it only does so after it has served its purpose. Around Jack, Buck doesn’t think he’s ever seen the ground give in, a wire break, or a radio losing signal a single time in the two months he’s been working here. 

Which is probably why it took everyone by surprise when the floor gave out from under the woman Jack was trying to save before she could take his hand. She died on impact, and it’s like her ghost followed them back to the station. 

Buck’s shift is technically over, as is Bobby’s and Eddie’s, but like Buck, they seem reluctant to leave Jack behind to finish the rest of his shift alone with the B-team. Bobby and Eddie are currently sitting upstairs with him, Bobby undoubtedly trying to get him to eat something, and Eddie likely offering that quiet support that just comes natural to him. As soon as he’s finished changing, Buck will be up there too, probably ask him to play a game, or tell him about something he’s learned while on his latest wikipedia deep-dive. 

Then a curious thing happens. Buck’s just about to turn the corner, on his way to the stairs, when he hears two unknown voices speak. He’s not sure why, but he stops in his tracks to listen in on their quiet conversation. 

“–done enough?” a deep voice asks, sounding unhappy.

“He wanted to do something good on his own, you know this,” a, surprisingly, even deeper voice answers, sounding like this isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation.

“I do, but I just don’t get why he has to do it here . He could do plenty of good things back at home where we can keep an eye on him.”

“You mean where you can… what’s the phrase, ‘breathe down his neck’?” the second voice asks, sounding vaguely amused. 

There’s a deep sigh. “Yeah yeah. Birds leaving the nest, I get it. Just wished he’d wait until he was older. I, uh… I worry, you know?” The first voice says, a little sheepishly, if Buck had to guess. 

“It’s nice that you worry, Dean, but Jack is very capable. I’m just glad that he feels like he can call us when he needs to.”

“Yeah… me too.” 

There’s a brief pause in conversation, and Buck uses it to carefully peak around the corner. He catches the tail-end of two men hugging. Both with brown hair, though one is a few shades darker than the other. The deepest brunet is also a few inches shorter, wearing a trench-coat. The other is wearing a flannel and heavy boots. The second they separate, Buck pulls back into his hiding spot. 

“You go on up, I’ll be there in a sec,” the first voice says. A few seconds later, footsteps clink on the stairway steps. 

Bucks just about to count to five and then nonchalantly walk upstairs too, but he almost runs face first into the man that stayed behind, walking around the corner out of seemingly nowhere. 

“Oh,” Buck gasps, taking a step back to create some distance, feeling like he got caught doing something he shouldn’t. He gives the man a smile, the friendly one he always puts on for strangers, despite the man setting off some odd sense of alarm in him that he can’t quite place. “Sorry about that. Can I help you with something?”

The man looks him up and down, his gaze calculating. It’s seriously intimidating. Buck’s pretty sure he’s a little taller than the guy—an inch, probably, maybe less—but he feels about two feet tall right now. Kind of like back when Athena didn’t like him and she would look at him as if he could cause trouble at any given moment. 

“You usually eavesdrop on people in your station?” the man, Dean, if Buck remembers the voices correctly, asks. 

Buck rubs the back of his neck nervously. “You caught that, huh? Sorry, we’re really tight here, everybody gets curious when outsiders come in, you know? It’s either bad news, gossip-worthy, or someone brought snacks,” Buck rambles on, the empty stare on him not helping his nerves at all . “So, just wanted to, uh, get an idea about what was going on, but I didn’t want to interrupt if it was something important, you know?”

Finally, the man takes mercy on him. He smiles, not big or anything, but still sort of genuine, and offers up his hand. Buck takes it without hesitation. 

“I get it,” he says the second they let go. “From what I’ve heard, you’re like a family. Can’t blame you for being protective over them.” 

Buck laughs a little. “Right. I’m Buck,” he introduces himself, hoping that the other will do the same. 

Which he does. “Dean.” 

A lightbulb lights up over Buck's head, and suddenly the conversation he heard makes so much more sense. He honestly can’t believe he didn’t put the pieces together sooner. 

“You’re Jack’s dad!” he exclaims, happy to have put the pieces together. 

Dean looks a little taken aback by that, but it’s not like that’s anything new. Buck knows that his outgoing nature can be a lot for people, especially those that don’t really know him. 

“I, uh, yeah, I am,” Dean confirms. 

“I’m guessing you heard about…?” Buck asks then, more subdued. 

“Yeah. He called us after it happened. We’ve been wanting to come see the place since he started, but haven’t gotten the chance to.”

“Not the greatest circumstances to visit.”

“No. It is not.” 

Soon after, Dean excuses himself and heads upstairs to comfort his son. Buck stays behind a little while longer, wanting to give them their space. It’s not a difficult task to manage, since Eddie comes down soon after Dean went up, and he suggests that they head on out. They carpooled today, so Buck easily agrees. Jack’s got his dads right now; there’s no need for them to hang around to make sure he’s okay. 

It’s only when he’s sitting in the jeep that a thought hits him. Jack said that his parents lived in Kansas, and Dean said Jack had called them after that lady died. That was under an hour ago… How the hell did they get here so fast?

“...and Jack, you’re with Eddie,” Bobby finishes instructing just after they’ve arrived at the scene. There’s a huge pile-up on the freeway. From the looks of it, it started with one car hitting another, pushing it out into the middle of the road, which led to a chain-reaction of other cars slamming into each other in their attempt at dodging the newly formed block in the road. It’s nothing they haven’t seen before, but it’s the first time Jack has been on the scene of anything like this. Which is probably why Bobby assigned him to Eddie. 

Jack’s shown a lot of interest in the medical category of their job, and since Hen and Chim are the most experienced, and therefore the most needed right now, it makes sense for Jack to tag along while Eddie helps the people with less severe injuries. 

They run around from car to car, checking in on the passengers and instructing them in what to do, calling over the radio asking for either assistance or just updates on the victims. Jack trots alongside him, ready for whatever Eddie asks of him, which is nice. It’s not as easy and intuitive as it is when he’s partnered up with Buck, but that’s also a high—and impossible—standard to live up to, so Eddie’s not exactly complaining. 

He likes Jack, everyone on the team does, but he especially appreciates how much he likes learning from them. There’s also the fact that he’s like an ace up their sleeve when it comes to dealing with civilians. The members of the 118 aren’t unused to being flirted with, and while that’s not really a big deal, it can sometimes get in the way of administering the care they need to. Jack doesn’t have that problem. People don’t flirt with him—a good thing, because Eddie’s pretty sure seeing someone flirt with Jack would make him really uncomfortable, though he’s not sure why, maybe because he reminds him of Christopher sometimes—probably because you don’t have to spend more than five seconds around the kid to get the feeling that he’s… well, a kid . 

But then there’s also sometimes, like right now, when they come across someone who’s more hurt than they initially thought, and Jack does his job perfectly of helping them, more perfect than Eddie really expected of him, and like the person Jack is currently stopping from bleeding out, they look at the kid like he’s something holy. Which in and of itself is not all that weird, people are usually grateful when you save their lives, but when Eddie eventually checks over Jack’s work, he starts—not for the first time—to question his own abilities, because he could have sworn that the wound was more severe before Jack got to it, like, bordering on Eddie calling for Hen or Chimney to take over severe, but now it just looks like a minor injury. 

Eddie then gets the oddest thought; Jack seems to work in mysterious ways. Because Eddie didn’t even see what Jack did exactly. Which is not the first time something like that has happened.

He can recall a time or two when Jack had disappeared behind a wall of smoke while they were retrieving people from a fire, and when the team caught up to him, everyone secretly worried that he would do something reckless when out of sight, he was sitting with victims that were miraculously unharmed, despite what their surroundings might suggest was possible. Jack must have aided them in some way, but they didn’t see him do it, and the people he helped were very vague when they asked them about what had happened. So was Jack, for that matter. Eddie figures that Jack’s just a little shy, or squirmy, about receiving compliments. 

After they’ve dealt with the pileup and have settled back at the station for a quick break, Carla walks in with Christopher in tow. Eddie quickly makes his way over, worried that something might have happened, since he’s still on shift for another three hours and Carla was supposed to be at home helping Chris with a school project. 

“Everything’s fine, Eddie,” Carla assures him with a smile the second they’re within speaking distance. 

“Hey, Dad!” Chris says, excited to be at the station like he always is. 

Eddie heaves a relieved sigh. “Hey, mijo,” Eddie says, leaning down to kiss his son on the top of his head before straightening up to talk to Carla. 

“I have a bit of a family emergency, so I texted Buck and he said to bring him here,” Carla explains. 

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “You texted Buck and not me?” 

Carla chuckles, giving him that look she sometimes does when she finds him amusing but slightly unreasonable. “Boy, we both know Buck is on his phone way more than you. I thought it was the safer bet, given how short notice this is.”

“Right. Right, well, thank you, Carla,” Eddie says. 

She hums and hands over Christopher’s bag. After saying goodbye to Carla, they make their way up to the loft. 

Bobby is standing in the kitchen while Chim and Hen are playing pool, and Buck and Jack are watching TV. Eddie doesn’t even have to tell Chris to join Buck, he shoots straight over to him the second he spots him. Like Buck has some sixth sense that tells him when Chris is near, he turns his head towards him, a grin spreading across his face when he sees Chris. 

Smiling at the scene, Eddie walks over to Bobby to explain the situation. 

“You know Chris is always welcome here,” Bobby says calmly while chopping some vegetables. “I’m sure we could convince someone to stay behind and watch him if the bell rings.” He looks up then with a slightly surprised expression. “Actually, it looks like Jack wouldn’t mind volunteering.” 

Eddie turns to look back at the couch area, and sure enough, Chris and Jack are talking like they’re life-long friends, a spark in Chris’ eyes that Eddie last saw when he first started spending time with Buck. Huh. Jack even seems invested in the conversation the same way he is when he talks to anyone else on the team. 

He thanks Bobby before making his way over to the others, leaning down and whispering to Buck, “I think you better watch your back, or Jack might replace you as Chris’ best friend.” 

Buck looks up at him. “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing. It’s just because he’s new, right?”

Taking pity on Buck, Eddie sits down beside him, squeezing his shoulder in comfort. “Even if it isn’t, you don’t have to worry. Chris loves you.”

“You haven’t? Ah, man, that’s lucky. I got one stuck in my nose just last month!” Jack exclaims in response to whatever Christopher just said. “Dean had to use tweezers to get it out!” 

Chris giggles. “How do you get Lego stuck there?” he asks incredulously, as if he didn’t used to do that all the time when he was younger. “That’s not how you build stuff!”

“I know!” Jack agrees passionately. “But it’s like they find their own way up there!”

The two boys laugh together while Jack sets up gaming consoles, probably to play Mario-Kart. 

Buck and Eddie watch them interact from afar in silence, until Eddie says, “You know, I think you can’t really compare you and Jack.” 

Buck nods. “Yeah, this looks more like a playdate than when I hang out with him.”

“We sure Jack isn’t actually two kids in a trench-coat?”

Buck snorts. “Cap insists that he’s 19, but I’m not so sure. Did you see Cas, one of his dads? He has one of those. A trench coat. They could totally swing it.”

Jack likes being a firefighter. 

Ever since they defeated Chuck, and Jack absorbed all of his powers, all of the light that made his essence, and all of the dark that was Amara, he’d had a hard time dealing with being one with everything. Existing as a divine consciousness, experiencing being the water that flows through the river, or drops from the sky, while simultaneously being the dust on the wing of a bee sleeping in a flower, or the air molecules that travel through the lungs of the earth, is all a very serene sense of reality. 

Or, at least it was at first. Jack loved it, until he didn’t. He thought it was for the best, until he remembered that he used to be his own person too. He remembered that he used to have people who cared about him, a family, and once he remembered that, he started to hear them. 

He heard Castiel’s longing and grief—because of course Cas was the only exception to his hands-off rule. The world owed him that much—and he felt Castiel’s grace search for him every time he saw something that reminded him of Jack. He even heard Dean praying, as surprised as that made him. He heard Dean telling him how he was sorry for the way he treated Jack. How he’s grateful that Jack returned Cas to him. How he’d like to do better, if he got the chance. Even through Dean, he heard Castiel missing him, because Dean told him about it. 

And then Dean said; it isn’t right without you around, kid. I know you’re all one with the earth and everything, but if you could come visit sometimes, or be one with the earth from home, that would be… that would be great. 

And then Jack went home. 

And it was good, being home. Sam had started working on setting up a sort of online hunter’s guide, digitalizing the bunker’s library. Dean and Cas told him that they were together, as a couple, which confused Jack, because he had assumed that they already were, judging from how much love he could always sense was between them. 

Things were good. Dean took him fishing, taught him how to drive. Sam let him help with stuff. Cas went flying with him. They all had weekly movie nights. Jack had never been so happy. 

But after having watched his family do so much good for the world, have a purpose, Jack longed for that too. There was being god, of course, but after he altered the after-life to something worthy of his family, of humanity, there wasn’t much else to do. Jack was just Jack, no god-powers while on earth, only the nephilim ones he was born with, and he liked it that way. But he still didn’t have a purpose. He wanted to help people, but he didn’t want to be a hunter, he found out. 

So Jack did some research, and he decided to become a firefighter. 

Sam and Cas were very supportive about his decision. Dean was too, but in a more cautious way. Especially when Jack told them he’d be doing it in LA. 

“What, fires in Kansas not good enough for you?” Dean had asked. 

Cas had put a hand on Dean’s shoulder then, and the tightness in Dean’s muscles had eased. 

“I checked out a few stations, and I really like this one. They seem like a family, but they have crazy bad luck, and I want to help,” Jack had said. 

“Will you be living there, or at home?” Cas had asked. 

Jack told them that he’d still be living at home. Flying back and forth wasn’t even an issue, and he didn’t want to go too long without seeing his own family. 

It took a little while for Dean to come around to the idea, but he eventually did. Dean was actually the one who helped Jack get the fake ID’s and credentials he needed for the academy, since he doesn’t technically exist, and even if he did, his papers would say that he’s five years old, and that is not old enough to fight fires according to the law. 

After Jack graduated the academy—careful not to show off all his strength. He actually aimed for average, but he accidentally broke a few records, whoops—he joined the 118 as a probationary firefighter. 

He likes the job very much. He likes helping people. He likes working as a team. 

He especially likes his team, in particular. 

He likes talking to them, seeing them joke around and so easily include him even when he doesn’t understand something. He likes Bobby as their captain, and likes that he gets to have a Bobby just like Sam and Dean did, although it’s not exactly the same. But it’s his. It’s something Jack has worked for. It’s something he chose, something he gets to have outside of his own family. 

Even though Dean and Cas came to comfort him when he was sad about losing the woman, Samantha, on one of his calls, Bobby and Eddie still did their best to let him feel the grief, telling him it’s part of the job, and if he ever needs to talk, they’d be there to listen. 

They’re all such good people, and Jack cares about them very much. 

Which is why he feels panic rush through him when, on a call, Buck gets taken. 

To the rest of the team, what happens is that he falls down a cliffside. The rope securing him while he scales down to reach the car that went off-road suddenly snapped, and Buck fell further down than the vehicle, until they lost sight of him. That’s what his team sees, that’s what Eddie is trying to keep a cool head about, while in actuality he’s close to breaking down where he stands, the desperation oozing off of him so much that it affects Jack’s own emotions. 

That’s what the team sees, but not what Jack knows. Jack smells the odor in the air that warns of something supernatural. He reaches out with his grace and is met with the mindless hunger that comes from a chupacabra. 

The area they’re standing on is wide and open, which means Jack can’t sneak away to save Buck before the chupacabra hurts him. He can still feel Buck’s heartbeat. He’s alive, if a little bruised. From what Jack can tell, the chupacabra somehow managed to cut the rope and drag Buck into a little cave hidden from their view.

Bobby is yelling out orders, one half of the team instructed to keep up the original plan of getting to the car, while the other half should scout out where Buck might have ended up and save him. Jack is on the first team, which is fine by him. The other team won’t find Buck without Jack’s help, but Jack can’t help Buck with the other’s watching, so it’s better for Jack to work on getting the passengers out of the car and let someone else take care of Buck. 

He prays to Castiel. 

Coming back from the empty again was, as Dean would say, an emotional rollercoaster. 

At first, Cas had been confused; how did he get back to the bunker? How did he escape nothingness? Who broke him out, and what was the price?

Then, he’d been simultaneously elated and sad. Jack let him out. No one paid a price, because Jack was god. Cas never wanted that for him, never wanted his son to have that kind of responsibility. He was especially saddened by the fact that he wouldn’t get to see him. He was proud, of course he was, Jack had proven what Cas had known all along; that he was good, right down to the core. Jack would bring upon the paradise he showed Castiel when he was still cradled in Kelly’s body.

He just wished that Jack would get to reap the benefits of their victory against Chuck the way everyone else got to. 

And did Cas ever get to. 

Dean was skittish and closed off at first when Castiel came back. Cas had assumed it was because Dean was uncomfortable with his confession, which is exactly the reason why he never planned to tell Dean about his true feelings in the first place. 

But then Dean told him his avoidance was because he was afraid that it wouldn’t last, that Cas would be taken away again, that something bad was going to happen, because good things didn’t happen to Dean Winchester. 

Cas told him that he was an idiot, and Dean gave him the gift of loving him back. 

Later, Dean also gave him the gift of convincing Jack to come back. 

Cas has never been happier. 

Jack becoming a firefighter was another point of pride for Castiel. Of course, having Jack with them at home was everything he could ask for, his family together, safe and intact, but he knew immediately when Jack started to grow restless. Everyone needs a purpose in their life. Angels are created with it, but when Castiel fell, he learned how to find his own like humans do. Jack is both angel and human, so he too would some day feel the need to establish himself in the world. 

Castiel knew it was coming. 

Dean did not. 

No one likes to see their loved ones hurting, and Castiel knew very well that Jack leaving the proverbial nest would hurt Dean, but there is also joy to be found in seeing Dean react so negatively to Jack going out into the world on his own. For Dean to dislike the idea, he has to like having Jack in the bunker first. Cas had always hoped Dean would come around and love Jack like he does, and a part of him always believed he would get there at some point, despite all the bumps in the road and hurtful things having been said in the past. 

Castiel isn’t unaffected by Jack’s decision, of course. He loves Jack, cherishes every second they get to spend together, but he doesn’t mind gently putting those feelings aside for the time being to stand by Dean and talk him through his own. 

Because he can do that now. Dean is his partner. Dean lets him in, lets Castiel be close to him in a way he never allowed before. 

Physically and emotionally.

Castiel gets to sit in the kitchen while Dean prepares food for his family. He gets to sit close enough to feel the heat emanating from Dean’s body when they’re watching a movie. He gets to hold Dean’s hand, kiss his cheek, and stand as close as he wants without being reminded of any sort of personal space. 

Castiel gets to lie in bed with Dean at night, give him pleasure, and embrace him afterwards until Dean’s breath evens out. He gets to hold him through his nightmares, soothe them with his grace, and he gets to watch Dean slowly blink his eyes open in the morning before Dean smiles at him, kisses him softly, and says morning, Angel.  

Happiness isn’t in the having, it’s just being, Cas had said once when he thought it was the last time he would ever get to lay eyes on the man that he loves. Castiel still believes this to be true, but he can admit that being and having is much, much better than just being. 

“Whatcha thinkin about?” Dean asks as he comes up behind Cas where he’s standing by the kitchen counter making him his morning coffee. Dean snakes his arms around Cas’ waist, rests his chin on Cas’ shoulder, softly kissing a smile into his neck. 

“You,” Castiel murmurs, because when isn’t he? The coffee maker sputters, indicating it’s finished, so Cas pours them both a cup. 

He doesn’t need to eat or drink; when Jack revived him, he gave Cas back all his previous powers, and then some, promoting Cas to an archangel and healing his wings. But Cas still enjoys drinking coffee with Dean in the morning, just like he ‘goes to sleep’ with Dean in the evening. 

“What about me?” Dean asks, amused. 

Cas turns around in his embrace, cradling Dean’s face in his hands and kissing him chastely on the lips, something he will never tire of, something that will never lose its novelty. 

“How much I love you,” Cas answers honestly. 

Dean rolls his eyes. He’s still not very comfortable receiving compliments or affection, but it’s something he’s working on, and Cas loves him even more for it. 

“You sap,” Dean whispers, taking his coffee and turning to the kitchen table, though not before he pecks Cas on the cheek. 

They drink their coffee in companionable silence like they do most mornings, and Cas savors every moment. Dean is almost entirely retired from hunting now. Sometimes, if no one else is available, they will still take on a case, but they’re few and far between. Castiel would like for him to fully stop hunting, but he knows that it’s a part of who Dean is, and he won’t demand for him to put that away more than he’s comfortable with. Besides, with Cas’ grace as strong as it has ever been, he’s not worried that he wouldn’t be able to save Dean should he need it. 

After the first cup of coffee, Dean is more talkative, and they discuss a few things he’s planning for the property he bought in the outskirts of the town. Dean wants to build them a house from scratch, a place for them to live outside of the bunker since Sam has been talking about opening it up as a safehouse for other hunters. Castiel loves that Dean wants to make them a home, and he loves listening to Dean talk about it with such enthusiasm. 

In the middle of Dean explaining the ins and outs of the type of patio he’s planning on building— ”I’m thinking it can face the garden, the one without the beehives, so I can make sure you’re not planting too many vegetables that you’ll force me to cook” —Castiel feels Jack reach out for him. His back straightens, which Dean notices immediately, used to Jack communicating with Cas this way, and falling silent while Cas listens. 

Castiel. I need your help. We’re on a call, and something took Buck. I can’t get to him with the team watching me. Can you make sure he’s alright until they retrieve him? Please?

Dean sends him a worried look, but Castiel waits to explain until he’s done talking with Jack, who sends Cas insight into what he knows of the situation. 

He will know about me, Jack. If I appear and disappear out of nowhere, if I take care of the chupacabra and he sees, he will have questions, Castiel warns. 

I know. It’s okay. I just want to keep him safe.

Then I will do so on your behalf. 

He explains the conversation to Dean shortly. Dean gets up and kisses him ‘for good luck’. 

“Got a mission from god, huh? Guess you gotta go be a good little angel,” he teases. 

Cas smiles at him, sneaking in another kiss just because he can. “It won’t be long. I can bring back some pie, if you’d like?”

“A very good angel. Alright, sweetheart, better not keep him waiting.”

With one last soft kiss, Castiel flies off to do as the lord (his son) commands (asked very nicely of him).

Buck’s head is hurting like a bitch. He’s not even sure what happened. One second he was being slowly lowered closer to the car that landed halfway down a cliffside, hoping that he could get the passengers out before the ground gave away under them, and the next he was suddenly free falling and then being yanked to the side by something he didn’t see. 

Now he’s here. 

Wherever ‘here’ actually is. He’s guessing some kind of cave? It must be, judging by the darkness and stuffy smell of it all. 

Taking stock of himself, he notices he got away with only a few scratches and bruises. However, when he tries to stand up, he realizes pretty quickly that there’s something wrong with his ankle. Are those… teeth marks? 

A clicking, almost growling sound echoes through the cave, something unlike anything Buck has ever heard. The closest thing he can describe it as is one of those dinosaur sound effects from a Jurassic Park movie, except way more terrifying and actually real . At least, he thinks it is.

There’s light coming from somewhere, Buck knows, but he’s not sure what direction. It’s faint, but it bounces off the uneven walls of the cave. He can see his own body if he looks down, but not much else. Every shadow could be an opening, or a dead end, or something hiding, but hell if he can tell the difference. Not that it would really matter; it’s not like he can run if he should need to. 

And he might need to, because whatever’s making that sound is coming closer, he’s pretty sure. Something is definitely moving in the shadows, and Buck holds his breath, sitting completely still. If he’s lucky, maybe it won’t see him if he doesn’t move. 

Buck is not lucky, though. He never has been, and he isn’t now. The– creature was for sure the right word for it, because as soon as it’s close enough for Buck to get a visual on it he can confidently say that it’s nothing he’s ever seen before. 

It’s about the size of a large dog, and it’s four legged, vaguely has something resembling a snout, maybe? But that’s where the similarities to the animal ends. It’s completely hairless from what he can tell, with huge hind-legs that sort of remind him of a kangaroo, and a prominent, almost spiky, spine. Its teeth are barred with foam coming out of its mouth. It clicks and growls at the same time again, and Buck is pretty sure this is how he dies. 

But then, appearing in the space between him and this otherworldly beast, a man appears out of thin air. He briefly looks over his shoulder at Buck, and Buck sucks in a sharp breath. The man’s eyes are glowing. Not glowing in a ‘he’s got suck bright eyes’ sort of way, but actually glowing glowing, like, they’re an actual lightsource . He only gets a quick look at the blue-white brightness the eyes bring before the man is looking ahead at the creature again, striding up to it without fear, and grabbing it around the neck like it actually is just a disobedient dog. 

More light starts to illuminate the cave, and Buck manages to notice that the man has dark hair and is wearing a trenchcoat before the brightness is too sharp and hurting his eyes enough that he has to shut them. 

When it seems like things have gone dark again, he opens them to find the man—wait, no, that’s Cas he’s pretty sure—crouching in front of him. 

“Hello, Buck,” he says before touching Buck’s temple with two fingers. 

Something happens then. Buck can’t for the life of him describe it as anything other than nauseating, but then they’re suddenly at the mouth of the cave, sunlight touching the tip of his boot from where he’s sitting against a wall. Cas’ fingers are still on his skin, and the nausea slowly disappears along with the ache in his ankle and the headache behind his eyes. 

When Cas retreats, now standing above Buck while looking down at him, Buck blinks up in confusion. What the hell just happened?

“How are you feeling?” Cas asks. 

Buck swallows, eyes never leaving Cas as he slowly stands up too on shaky legs. “Uh…”

“I’m sorry I didn’t heal everything, but your team might find it odd if they recover you entirely unscathed,” Cas explains with a frown, like he’s genuinely regretful that he didn’t take care of the few scraps Buck can still feel pulling at his skin. 

Which, what? 

“What just happened?” Buck asks. 

“My apologies, I don’t think I’ve even properly introduced myself. I’m Castiel, but people call me Cas.”

“Right, yeah, I, uh, I saw you a while back. Didn’t get a chance to talk to you, but I met your partner Dean.”

Cas smiles at the mention of his name. “Yes, Dean did mention you overheard our conversation.” 

“Sorry about that,” Buck says, his mouth running on instinct while his brain is still reeling, because what just happened?

“It’s alright,” Cas assures. 

“What was that back there? What did you do?” Buck finally manages to ask. 

Castiel’s face softens, his expression somehow familiar despite Buck not having formally met him before. It’s not unlike how any of his coworkers look when talking to a startled victim at an intense call. 

“You were taken by a chupacabra,” Cas says. “I took care of it.”

Buck doesn’t even know where to start. He’s heard of chupacabras before, on some random internet deep-dive he probably fell into instead of sleeping, but he knows next to nothing about them. Then there’s the whole… appearing out of nowhere thing, and the teleporting them both thing, and the healing thing, and, “Your eyes were glowing, man!” Buck sputters. “And– and what ? What do you mean chupacabra ?”

Cas smiles, it’s a little wonky, but it’s there. “The literal meaning of the word is ‘goat sucker’ but it hunts just about any mammal it comes across. It was going to kill you, so I killed it first.”

“T-thanks…” Buck says quietly, wholeheartedly meaning it despite how weird he’s acting at the moment. “How did you even know?” he asks then. “How did you get here so fast? Wait, wait, wait, how did you kill it? ” Because there was so much light in a place there shouldn’t be any, and he didn’t even see Cas do anything . 

“Jack called me, I flew, and I smote it,” Castiel explains. 

“You smote it?” Buck asks, his brain gradually slowing down, putting some vague pieces he has in his head together. Now that he’s thinking about it, there’s something about the name ‘Castiel’ that nags at him, like he’s heard it before. The nagging only gets more intense when he replays the light-show, and the description of it having been a smiting.  

There's a connection being made that Buck doesn’t want to see, doesn’t want to even think. Because it can’t be real. He must have carbon monoxide poisoning or something, because the answer to his next question is already in his head, but he doesn’t want to believe it. 

Buck takes a step back, needing some distance between them when he asks, “What are you?”

Castiel sighs softly, but otherwise doesn’t seem affected at all by Buck’s question or distance. 

“I’m an angel of the lord.”

“Holy shit,” Buck exclaims without thinking. He quickly slaps a hand across his face to stop any more words from escaping, but then thinks better of it and hurries to say, “Sorry! Uh, didn’t mean to, like, offend or anything, but holy shit.” 

To his immense surprise and relief, Cas—wait, is that too informal, to call an angel by a nickname? Probably, right?— Castiel chuckles, holding up a calming hand. “It’s alright.”

Buck nods, maybe a little too much. He’s never been the religious type, but how can he not believe after everything he’s just seen Castiel do? More dots connect in his brain without Buck having any say-so, more burning questions, and then one question in particular starts to haunt him. 

“Wait, but Jack said…” Buck starts, stopping to swallow, because he’s not sure if he actually wants the answer to this or not, but he just can’t help himself anyway. “Jack said that you’re related, like, by blood… Does that mean…? What does that mean? What does that make Jack?”

“You would have to ask him that,” Castiel tells him calmly. “Rest assured, no matter what he might answer, Jack is still the same as you’ve always known him. He is my son, and he is good.”

Even if Buck didn’t already like Jack, he can’t exactly disagree with a freaking angel who can smite people, so he nods his head vigorously. “Right.”

Castiel straightens up then, looking off to the side like he’s hearing something. Buck doesn’t hear anything, though. 

“I think your team is coming for you, so I’ll take my leave,” Castiel says. Then he looks back at Buck with a friendly smile. “I’m sure we’ll see each other soon.”

And then he disappears just as suddenly as he appeared before, except this time it’s in full daylight and Buck can’t blame the instance as a mind trick or something he convinced himself of happening because it was dark and he has a wild imagination. 

Seconds later, Buck hears Eddie and Hen’s voices call out to him, and he calls back to them on instinct while still staring at the spot where there once stood an angel. 

Taking advantage of the last moments he has before he needs to pull himself together, Buck quietly whispers into the empty space, “What the fuck?”

Castiel doesn’t immediately return to Dean after having said goodbye to Buck, no matter how eager he is to do so. His coffee is already cold; he can spare a few more minutes to make sure Buck makes it out of the cave safely. These people mean a lot to Jack, so they mean a lot to Cas. 

It’s unfortunate that he had to reveal his nature to Buck though. He knows how much Jack values this life he’s building, how much he likes being surrounded by people who just sees him as one of them and nothing else, but Cas thinks it will be alright. Buck might have been startled, but he took it very well in Castiel’s opinion.  

So, instead of flying home, he stands in the same spot as before, now invisible. Buck looks a little pale, but not enough for Cas to worry about his health. It’s a lot, Cas knows, to learn about the supernatural, not to mention angels. At least he’s still coherent enough to answer his friends when they call for him, and he has almost completely fixed his lost expression by the time they reach him, looking for all the world like someone spooked because they had a fall and not someone spooked because they’ve gained knowledge that may or may not change the way they view the world. 

The people appearing at the entrance of the cave make their way to Buck. Eddie—Cas remembers him from when they visited Jack after he lost someone. He liked him very much—runs to Buck and pulls him into a crushing hug. “Buck! Are you alright?” 

It reminds Cas of how Dean would cling to him after coming back from the dead. Or in purgatory. Cas sees their souls react to each other, pulsing in sync and soothing the troubled swirls of storms within. They are clearly very close. Castiel senses a lot of love between them. Some of it looks alike, like their souls have exchanged pieces between them, and some of it takes the same shape, like a shared love for something else. Christopher, Cas would guess, judging from what Jack has told him. 

The woman who is accompanying Eddie hugs Buck as well, relief oozing off her in waves. They calm each other too, though differently. There’s also love there, and a lot of it, though clearly not the same kind as with Eddie. 

Jack had told them that station 118 is like a family, and looking at the scene before him, Castiel can’t help but agree. 

“Are you hurt?” the woman—Cas nudges her soul gently to look for her name. Henrietta, no, wait, Hen—asks.

Buck smiles a little shakingly. “No, I’m– I’m fine.”

Hen squints at him with a stern look, her hands on his shoulders. “Let me decide that,” she says. She feels along his different limbs, asking him a few questions that sound routine, and after a few minutes she straightens up, looking surprised. “I’ll be damned. You’re fine.”

Buck spreads his hands out with a shrug and a chuckle. “I told you.”

Eddie pulls him in for another hug. “I thought you died , man.”

“Can’t get rid of me that easily,” Buck mumbles into his shoulder. When they separate, he continues, eyes quickly glancing towards where Cas stands. “Maybe some higher power has a plan for me.”

Eddie frowns. “Since when are you religious?”

“Since I almost died.”

Hen snorts while securing some rope to Buck. “Which time?”

“Just this one.” 

Castiel watches them leave with a smile on his face. So much love, so much camaraderie. Yes, Cas thinks, Jack picked a formidable team to be a part of.

Buck has been pacing around the locker room for ten minutes now. His shift is over, everyone is getting ready to go home, and Eddie is sending him these looks that Buck can’t focus on because he’s thinking.  

It’s been about a week since the cave, and Buck doesn’t think his mind will ever truly comprehend what Castiel had told him. Especially because ever since he didn’t outright deny that Jack isn’t not not human , Buck has been noticing things. His brain has made connections, theories, all without his permission. Buck doesn’t want to know this stuff! You really don’t get to appreciate being blissfully unaware of things before you suddenly become aware . 

There’s no doubt that Jack is waiting for him to say something. No shot that Castiel hasn’t told him about what they talked about in the cave. Any good parent would give a heads up to their kid about something like this. It’s just logical. 

What isn’t logical is the fact that Castiel is an angel. A real one. Buck even looked him up after the fact. Castiel, the angel of Thursday, of solitude, shield of God. And Jack is related to him. Biologically. Which must mean that he can do at least some of what Castiel can, right? Buck had tried to convince himself that that wasn’t the case, but as established, he’s been noticing things. 

Like how Jack is strong. Buck knew he was, of course, as a firefighter you have to be, but once Buck started to pay close attention, he realized it was unreal how strong Jack actually is. Just a few days ago, Buck saw him lift a table one handed. A table that was bolted to the floor. He’d let go of it pretty quickly once he realized himself that was the case. Jack lifted a table, one handed, that was bolted to the floor, because he didn’t notice that it was. It didn’t even phase him! If anything, he just looked sheepish and a little nervous about anyone seeing him.

Then there’s the fact that there’s never any casualties when he helps someone treat a victim. It could be coincidence, since they usually delegate the lesser injuries to Jack for the time being, but Buck talked to Eddie who mentioned something about having seen a few instances where he thought the patient’s condition was more critical before Jack checked them over. 

Castiel healed Buck. Has Jack been healing people too? 

It’s driving Buck nuts, all this wondering and speculating. He’s aware that he could just put himself out of his misery and ask Jack about it, but then he’d know, and then he’d have to deal with knowing, and then there’s no more blissful unawareness left to be had. 

Although he doesn’t have much of that right now anyway. 

How much worse can it really get? If Jack confirms his assumption that he’s an angel, or something close to it, then what will really happen? Buck will know, yes, but isn’t that better than whatever this is? 

Maybe, maybe not, Buck’s not sure, but he can’t keep going like this for long, so he needs to just bite the bullet here. 

He walks out of the locker room. Most of his team is already in their cars, pulling out of the driveway, but Bobby, Eddie, and Jack are still here. Jack is talking to Bobby, and Eddie is making his way over to Buck. He asks him something, but Buck can’t really focus on what, because Jack looks his way and he has this expression on his face. Like he knows. Maybe he’s talking to Bobby to give Buck the opportunity to pull him aside? 

“Buck?” Eddie asks. 

“Huh? What?”

“I was just checking if we were still on for tomorrow?” 

Right. The zoo. Chris. He’s been talking about it all week. 

Buck nods. “Yeah, yeah of course.”

“You okay?” 

“Yup. Just, ah, need to… do something. You don’t have to wait for me, I know Carla’s ready for you to take over at home.” 

Eddie looks skeptical. “You sure?” 

Buck nods with a confidence he doesn’t feel. “Yeah! I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He doesn’t exactly sell the image he’s going for here—cool, calm, and collected—but Eddie seems to decide not to pry about it right now, which Buck is extremely grateful for. He needs about two to five business days more to deal with what Castiel told him, and probably a lot longer to deal with everything else depending on how his conversation with Jack unfolds. 

As soon as Bobby steps away, Buck walks up to him. Jack turns his way immediately, like he’s been expecting it. 

“Hi, Buck,” he greets, as if they’ve not just been on an entire 24 hour shift together. 

Buck rubs his already sweaty palms against his thighs. “Can we talk?”

Jack nods, motioning for them to step outside where they can speak privately. “Of course.”

They walk a good ways away from where anyone should be able to overhear them, and Buck’s not sure if he likes the idea that Jack might have led them here because he’s about to blow Buck’s sense of the world away so much that they would need the privacy.  

“So…” Buck starts, clearing his throat. “I met Castiel.”

Jack smiles. “I know.”

“Right, of course you do. He said you called him.”

“I did.” If Jack’s at all nervous about this conversation, he doesn’t show it. Then, like it’s nothing, Jack reveals, “I prayed to him, actually. Cas told me you know. About him.”

“Yeah, he, uh, he said he… smote? The– the chupacabra?” If Buck’s voice breaks multiple times during that sentence, that’s between him, Jack, and his angel dad, probably.

“He did.”

“Because he’s an angel?”

“Yes.” 

The confirmation shouldn’t hit him like a punch to the soul—because Buck already knew that, didn’t he?—but it does anyway. He’d like to think that the hard part of this interaction is over, but it’s not, because with that established now comes all the questions that've been haunting him. 

Buck takes a preparing breath. “Jack, you– you said, you told the team that you and Castiel are related, by blood, I mean, so…” Buck trails off, not sure how to end the sentence. Not sure how to ask. 

Jack’s pleasant, almost carefree, expression falters, a guilty frown taking its place as he tugs at his own fingers. “I’m… sorry that I haven’t been honest with you guys,” he says quietly. “It’s just a lot to take in, the truth. I don’t like lying, but I really wanted to be treated like I was normal.”

And… okay. Buck can understand that. Also, angel business aside, seeing Jack like this, insecure about himself in a way he hasn’t been around Buck before, tugs at his heartstrings, and he wants to fix it. “Right. Right, Castiel said that you’re still the same person,” he says, trying to sound reassuring. 

“I am.”

With a careful voice, Buck asks, “But you’re also…?”

“My mom was human, my biological dad was… an archangel.” Jack winces after he says it, like the thought of that particular angel leaves a bad taste in his mouth, then elaborates, “Just not a very nice one, which is why I don’t consider him my father.” 

“Right…” Buck can understand not getting along with a parent. He can understand children disowning said parent. He wonders which angel made Jack, but decides that now, if ever, isn’t the time to ask. 

“I’m a nephilim,” Jack says. “That’s the word for half-angel half-human.”

Buck takes a deep breath and lets that sink in. Jack seems in no hurry to fill the silence, which he appreciates. After a long moment, head feeling less like it’s gonna explode, Buck has the need to voice his thoughts. 

“So angels are real. What about ghosts? Vampires, werewolves?” A horrifying idea occurs to him then, and he looks wide eyed at Jack. “Shit, are demons real too?”

Jack winces on his behalf, then shrugs almost apologetically. “Yeah. Most mythical creatures are real.”

“Bigfoot?” Buck quickly asks.

Jack tries to suppress a smile, which was kind of the point of Buck's question. To ease the mood a little. 

“No.”

“Huh. Wait, what about God?” Buck asks. He almost slaps himself when it comes out. This is one of the things he’s gonna regret knowing the answer to, he can feel it. Judging by Jack’s expression, he thinks so too. 

“Uh… Yes, god is real.”

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound, Buck thinks. “Have you met him? I assume Castiel has, since he’s a full blown angel?”

Jack is tugging on his fingers again. Clearly, he’s not enjoying this conversation any more than Buck is. 

“That’s… complicated. There was a… change, a few years ago.”

Buck doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t. He has a chance to preserve a little bit of the blissful unawareness he has left, but he just can’t help himself, because he can never help himself. This is why he always ends up losing sleep; he just can’t stop digging deeper for any type of obscure information he can get his hands on. It’s a disease, honestly. 

“A change?”

Jack takes a deep breath, then explains, “Dean, Cas, and Sam, they’ve been fighting monsters for over a decade, Sam and Dean for longer. They’ve saved the world countless times, and when Chuck, that’s the god that created the universe, started acting… not so nice, they sort of, uhm, demoted him?”

Buck… stares. He might be staring for a while, actually. That is… so much information. Too much. What do you even– What even is– 

“… your– your parents demoted God? ” Buck stutters. No freaking wonder Dean intimidated him so much, the man has the power to take down the creator of the universe! The name of said creator rattles in his brain then, and he can’t help but add, “Wait, God’s name is Chuck? ”

“Yeah. It’s… a long story. He’s human now, Chuck, so he isn’t a threat anymore, you don’t have to worry,” Jack assures him, like Buck even has the capacity to feel anything other than a strong sense of what the hell is happening?

“So who’s God now?” Buck hears himself ask. Because since God apparently exists, he can’t just disappear, right? Jack used the word ‘demoted’, which means someone else must have taken up the position. 

Jack freezes up at his question, like he’s afraid to answer it, which just makes Buck even more scared to hear it. 

“I don’t want you to freak out,” Jack says. 

“Little too late for that,” Buck answers in a tight voice. 

“Right… sorry, uhm…” Jack sighs, scrunching up his eyebrows and hunching in his shoulders, like he’s trying to appear smaller than he is. Then he starts talking, everything exploding out of him so quickly it might as well have been one word. “I sorta, kinda, absorbed Chuck’s powers? Also, since I’m being honest, I’m not 19, I’m six.”

Momentarily too shocked to freak out, Buck blurts out, “Six? How can you be six?” Then the first part of what Jack just said registers in his mind and he sweeps a hand through the air as if to erase his first question from the space between them. “Wait, scratch that, hold on, you’re God ?”

“Only in title!” Jack is quick to exclaim. “And only when I’m in heaven. On earth I’m just Jack.”

Buck presses a hand against his forehead, leaning back against the wall, suddenly feeling a little sick. “Oh fuck, heaven and hell are real, aren’t they? Shit.”

“Don’t worry! I changed all that. I don’t think eternal suffering was a good choice on Chuck’s part, so now it’s more of a, uh, therapy retreat? Not a lot of people end up there anymore, and those who do get to work on themselves until they’re ready for heaven. It’s really nice, I promise!”

Buck takes a moment to look at Jack while he takes some of those deep breaths Dr. Copeland has been trying to teach him to use outside of their sessions. Jack looks… vaguely terrified. Like it’s important to him that Buck isn’t scared, or like the prospect of Buck not liking the afterlife he’s apparently altered is anxiety inducing to him. Oddly enough, it sort of reminds him of when Chris has done something he shouldn’t and is waiting for Eddie to find out, waiting to see how much trouble he’s in. 

Suddenly, the thought of Jack actually being six doesn’t seem so far-fetched anymore, despite how old he appears to be. And that… helps. A little. Somehow. 

“Right,” Buck says, the word coming out more like an exhale than anything. “Right. Okay. That’s… good. This is a lot.”

Jack looks down at the ground like a scolded child. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Despite himself, Buck can’t help but chuckle at that. “I can’t believe God is apologizing to me.” 

Jack looks up then, rolling his eyes a little. “Buck, I’m just Jack.”

“Right. Right. Still the same person, except, you know, also a cosmic entity,” Buck teases. 

Jack laughs quietly, looking a little more at ease. “I don’t want anything to change,” he says, something vulnerable and small in his words. And just like that, Buck doesn’t feel like he’s looking at God, or even an angel, Buck feels like he’s looking at Jack; the young, happy, ray of sunshine that he really enjoys working with, that him and his team has made a secret oath to protect at all cost, because he’s just so damn precious. 

Buck places a hand on his shoulder, making sure that Jack is looking him in the eyes when he speaks. “Hey, hey, I’m sorry. Nothing will change, okay? I just need a minute to process,” he reassures him, giving him a warm smile. 

“Promise?” Jack asks, voice small. 

And he just reminds him so much of Chris it’s startling. 

And wow, isn’t that just a testament to how much he adores that kid that he’s actually comparing him to literal God?

Buck thinks of Christopher when he first met him—he’d been older then than that Jack is now, which is something Buck tries not to think about too hard—and he tries to imagine him becoming God at that age. The thought saddens him, fills him with worry, because that’s gotta be a lot to deal with, right? The whole world is literally on his shoulders, and Jack is six. Of course he wanted to go out and feel normal for a while. Buck can’t blame him. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I promise,” Buck says softly, and he means it. He’ll still need some time to get used to knowing all of this, some time to deal with it, but he will. Castiel was right. Jack is still Jack, at the end of the day. 

When he still looks a little insecure, Buck adds, “You’re a good person, Jack. I’m sure you’re a good God too.” 

They smile at each other for a few seconds, and then another thought occurs to Buck. “Also, we can never, ever, let Bobby find out. He’s a practicing catholic, I think his heart would give out if he finds out he’s been giving God orders and telling him to watch his table manners.”

Jack laughs, and it sounds genuine. “I would just heal him!”

Buck laughs too, pulling Jack in for a side-hug. “I don’t doubt it, bud, but better not take that chance, huh?”

Jack smiles at him brightly. “Right,” he agrees. Then he leans into Buck’s side a little more firmly and mutters, “Thanks, Buck.” 

Buck squeezes him gently before he lets go. They walk back to the parking lot, but when Buck turns to him to say goodbye, Jack is already gone, disappearing the same way Castiel did. Huh. 

Buck’s not gonna lie to himself and say that he’s totally chill about everything he just learned, but he can honestly say that he doesn’t feel completely rattled out of his skin, or like his world is falling apart. 

Jack is still Jack, and Jack might be God, but he’s also just a kid. He’s six. He’s the team’s baby. He’s a good guy. Buck can find a way to deal with this. 

(And even if he couldn’t, he’d do his best to pretend to, because he suddenly has a new fear unlocked about getting on the bad side of Jack’s parents. He’d rather live through a hundred more tsunamis than risk pissing off Dean and Castiel.)

When Buck drives home, two thoughts are most prominent in his mind. 

The first one being: If God has to be real, then the world could do a lot worse than have Jack fill that role. 

And the second one: Buck needs to make some sort of joke or hint towards Jack being God in the most subtle, blink-and-you-miss-it type of way in front of Eddie, just in case he ever finds out the truth about Jack, so Buck can have the pleasure of saying ‘I told you so’.