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Chuck isn’t well. His fight with Amara had taken its toll. God himself was at Death’s door.
Dean sat down at the Men of Letters table with two glasses too full of whiskey. He sat and slid a glass to Chuck.
“What’s going to happen to you, if...you know.” Dean said gesturing vaguely.
“If I die?” Chuck took a tentative pull at the whiskey. “Well creation will be in trouble, the whole balance of darkness and light thing.”
“What about you you? The Chuck you?”
“No idea.” Chuck sat back in his chair, looking pale.
“Is there anyway you could pop over to another universe, save yourself?” Sam joined them. He was anxious that Team Free Will was sitting back and imbibing instead of making a plan.
“I could have earlier, but not now.” Chuck let one corner of his mouth curl up to a grin.
“How many alternate universes are there?” Dean asked.
“Hundreds, maybe thousands. But not infinite, though that is fun to think about.” Chuck put the whiskey down and pointed to the water pitcher behind Cas. Cas nodded and poured a glass for him.
“Why? D’you make those too?” Dean reached over to claim Chuck’s abandoned drink.
Chuck rubbed at his forehead, grimacing. “I may have seemed like an absent father, but I stepped in to save creation more times than you’d think. Instead of letting catastrophes happen I would do a kind of ‘copy paste’. Save this universe, the main show. And let the catastrophes play out in the alternate.”
“Those are the places that don’t have Angels, or Demons.” Dean said.
“Right” Chuck nodded “Some are empty husks, all the humans gone too.”
“Remember that one that Balthazar sent us to?” Sam said with a faint smile.
“Yeah, Padalecki. Ackles remembers.” he grinned.
Chuck laughed a little. “That’s a good one. One of my favorites.”
Crowley sauntered up to the table, bottle in hand. “Well, do tell. Let’s hear about some of the other good ones. Distract us from the inevitable.”
“The one that’s the most similar is the one Sam and Dean went to. I don’t even remember it’s origin or what I saved them from. It’s just a bunch of people, no angels, demons, ghosts, wendigo, shifters, anything. It’s just people.”
“The one I’ve visited the most is also pretty similar. I had to save this world from a huge fold in time,..a failed Tesla experiment. Dean ends up being born in 1947, Sam in 1951. Castiel is there too, as a man. They meet in the fall of 65 and fall madly in love.”
Dean choked on his whiskey. Cas seemed unaffected.
“I messed up and intervened a little too much in that realm. I hurt Dean pretty badly. So I gave them a daughter of their own, born on their 10th anniversary. Sam’s wife graciously agreed to be the surrogate mother, between their 1st and 2nd child. They had a 3rd later. That’s a happy one, I like going there.”
Everyone sat silent for a moment. Trying to imagine any happiness on a day like today was too much.
Rowena watched Cas stare at Dean. “It’s not that hard to believe is it?” she asked under her breath, getting a chuckle out of Crowley and Sam.
“Come on, let’s hear some more. There’s got to be one that isn’t boring.” Crowley refilled his glass and slid his bottle around for the table to share.
“There is another favorite of mine where the Earth’s magnetic poles are out of whack. So most people turn to ghosts when they die, their residual energies left scattered all over.”
“Are there more hunters to deal with them?” Cas asked.
“Not too many more, but it is less dangerous. Aimless lost ghosts instead of angry spirits. But I love the Winchester crew there.”
Chuck looked around the room gauging their mood, undecided if he should continue.
“A blonde, brunette, and a red-head walz in, salt guns blazing and take care of most of it.”
Dean snorted, but didn’t interrupt.
“Sam & Jess’s daughter Abigail, the blonde. She’s the brawn of the group and the oldest. The ‘Dean’ in a way. Bobby and Ellen’s daughter Madeline, the brunette. She’s the brains, adorable little librarian looking girl with horned rimmed glasses. Dean and Cas share a nephilim, Angel name Sigghveritiel, mostly called Holly Grace Winchester. She dyes Cas’s messy hair red to complete the trio and bring out her Dean green eyes. She’s the mouth, and wings.”
No one dared make another joke about Dean and Castiel being together. The atmosphere around them had changed. It was like there was an invisible string holding them together that they didn’t seem to want or want to obey.
“I bet they kick ass.” Dean said solemnly. Chuck nodded, Sam smiled.
“Guys, c’mon. This is nice, maybe even a little comforting thinking that there are other parts of us that could go on. But we could stop day dreaming and make a real plan here. We can’t give up now.” Sam paced around the table urging them on.
Rowena proposed to them her idea for a soul bomb. Sam perked up immediately, he would rather fight and die with a sketchy plan than sit around talking about other worlds filled with ‘ could haves’ and ‘maybes;.
Dean and Sam went out and collected souls at the Waverly Hills Sanatorium. It wasn’t enough and they knew it. Billie the Reaper came to them, and deposited the souls from the veil into the bomb.
The strange mismatched group of God, Witch, King of Hell, Angel, Righteous Man, and Boy King gathered together once more to review their plan. Dean asked that they stop by the cemetery to say goodbye. The soul bomb is planted inside of him and he knows he’s not coming back to this bunker with this crew.
“One more happy story before we go. Another universe, anything.” Dean said to Chuck.
“Alright, uhm.” He sat again, feeling weak. “There’s another realm where there’s a Winchester family band.”
Dean smiled but shook his head. “Of course.” he sassed.
“They make an honest living, traveling and playing music, but there’s more to it. They’ve got real, deep, and true old world, pre-language music magic. It’s enchanting and super cute. It’s the next generation again, Sam’s daughter and two sons, Dean’s “ Chuck stuttered and paused for too long, “Dean’s daughter.”
“I assume from your awkward pause she’s my daughter as well.” Cas stated flatly.
“Well yeah. I wasn’t going to mention it.” Chuck smirked.”They sound good, and can incapacitate a group. Or grow a whole tree, cleanse a lake, put out a fire. It’s a wonder to behold, truly.” Chuck looked lost in thought, remembering and weakening.
“Alright. Well. That’s nice. Let’s load up and go Partridges, no time like the present.” Dean swung his arms and ushered the group towards the door.
Eventually Dean and Cas were all that remained in the bunker.
“Cas, Listen. If, when this works. Sam, he’s gonna be a mess. So look out for him, okay? Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”
“I could go with you.” Cas offered.
“No, no no. I gotta do this alone.”
Dean heaves in a heavy breath, his tongue hovers just behind his lips with words he’s struggling to say.
“Does it bother you, the things Chuck said about us in other dimensions?” Cas asked calmly.
“Nah.” Dean blushed. “Like Rowena said,...not that hard to believe.”
“It bothers me.” Cas frowned.
Dean closed the gap between them, standing closer than he usually dared.
“I wish I was coming home today. We could fix this, move through it, or into it.” Dean reached out and braced his arm against Cas’s shoulder.
“Does it need saying?” Cas couldn’t tear his eyes away from Dean’s face. Trying to commit each and every freckle and scar to memory.
“No. There’s nothing left unsaid.” Dean broke his own trance and stared at the floor for a moment.
“Dean.”
“In another life, or uh, another universe.”
“I’ll find you.”
“I know you will. I’ll be waiting.”
They crashed into a deep desperate hug. The way Cas’s head nestled into Dean’s neck made his knees go wobbly.
Dean pulled back first, the soul bomb burning away inside of him needed to be released.
He pressed his forehead against Cas’s, eyes squeezed shut.
Cas was as still as a statue. Dean’s lips ghosted over Cas’s. Cas’s lips didn’t reply.
“Angel.” Dean whispered.
Cas’s hand crept up and cradled Dean’s face. Dean turned his head into his calloused palm, pressing it in.
Dean closed his eyes and backed away. If he was going to take out Amara, it had to be now. No more waiting around. No more ‘ could haves’ and ‘maybes’.
If it weren’t for the fear of total oblivion, Cas wouldn’t have let him go. A new piece of him had just been awakened, and vanquished.
The Righteous Man went, and he saved the world. Again.