Several days had passed since the most eventful day in the lives of the Winchester brothers, especially for Dean. For Dean, that day had truly been packed with events and an amount of information that forced him to periodically sink into his own thoughts and not notice what was happening around him.
And this had been happening to Dean quite often over the past few days, mostly during conversations. When this occurred, Sam would snap his fingers in front of Dean's face to pull him out of yet another stupor. And every time Sam asked what was going on, Dean would simply wave it off, showing that everything was fine and he was just lost in thought.
Sam, of course, had noticed the changes in Dean's behavior — after all, they had grown up together since childhood, and he knew all his brother's habits. Seeing Dean in this state, Sam wanted to know the truth. But unfortunately, Sam simply didn't have the time to once again figure out what was going on in his brother's head.
After all, they needed to find where Amara was and save Lucifer, even if none of them wanted to do it. And on top of everything, they had to clean up the mess that Chuck constantly left behind.
For Alex and Dean, these days were the calmest, unlike for Sam. They tried to have as little contact with Chuck as possible while maintaining the appearance that they were playing along with the written script. Alex spent most of his time in his room, assembling the trap for Chuck. Alex was sure that Chuck would stick his nose in with his usual "unobtrusive" questions.
And Sam didn't disappoint in this regard, telling Chuck about what Alex was doing in his room, including their plan to create a new cage for Amara. Dean, who was present during that conversation, confirmed Sam's words about their plan, which included a new cage for Amara.
After that, Dean went to Alex's room to tell him how Chuck's face had changed for a brief moment, as if he had found something interesting. Hearing this, Alex couldn't hide the amusement in his eyes. He was sure that Chuck would want to interfere with this trap, which would only play into their hands.
Left alone in Alex's room, Dean wanted to know the details of the plan involving the trap so he could understand how he needed to act. Setting his tools aside, Alex explained what he wanted to achieve with this trap. And the most important part of this plan was to take from Chuck the second half of Amara's power. After listening to Alex's plan, Dean couldn't help but comment, calling Alex a real villain.
In response to such words, Alex only laughed, continuing to work. Dean, not wanting to deal with Chuck and look at him again so that his emotions wouldn't get out of control, left Alex's room for a couple of minutes. Dean returned a couple of minutes later, holding a pack of beer in his hands. Alex didn't mind Dean's company, especially since the girls weren't in the bunker, and he felt a little lonely in the room.
This was how the days passed. Sam was busy searching for any possible traces of Amara that could point to where she was so they could save Lucifer. Alex and Dean occasionally interacted with Chuck so it wouldn't seem like they were avoiding him. Dean spent most of his time in Alex's room, pretending to help, although in reality that wasn't the case.
And on one of those days, Dean was in Alex's room, lying on the bed with a bottle of beer in one hand and his phone in the other. Alex was sitting at the table, practically finished with the double trap for Chuck. Deciding to take a break, Alex set his tools aside and reached for coffee.
As he was about to take a sip, Alex heard a knock on the door. Sighing wearily, Alex shouted that the door wasn't locked. A moment later the door opened, and Sam entered with a laptop in his hands. Entering the room, Sam walked over to the table and placed his laptop on it.
"Hey, guys, I have news," Sam said, turning the laptop so Alex and Dean could see the screen.
"Good or bad?" Dean asked, looking away from his phone screen.
"Both…" Sam said, shaking his head.
Hearing this, Dean groaned and began to get up from the bed. Setting the beer aside, Dean put his phone in his pocket and stood up. Alex turned on his chair, holding a cup of coffee, and shifted his gaze to Sam's laptop screen. Alex saw the news article that Sam had found.
Seeing this, Alex understood that Chuck had decided to play another card from his deck in the form of a prophet named Donatello. Walking around the bed, Dean sat on the edge and looked at Sam, waiting for the continuation of the not-so-pleasant news. Dean already knew that whatever disaster happened in the world, Chuck would be the culprit, wanting to continue playing out his spectacle. And noticing Sam's behavior, Dean already understood that Chuck had managed to pull off his next move.
"Let's do it as usual: first the good news, and then everything else," Dean said, taking a sip of beer.
"If we're talking about the good, then I found traces of Amara…" Sam began, nodding toward his laptop.
"And the bad?" Alex asked, setting his coffee cup on the table.
"It looks like Amara's fog has covered another city," Sam said in a dry tone, moving aside so Dean could see the news article.
"And? Is it bad?" Dean asked, frowning slightly.
"This city wasn't as lucky as last time. Thousands dead. In short, everyone died. Except for one person," Sam said, scrolling through the news article and showing what had happened in the small town.
"How did Chuck miss this? Did you tell him about it?" Dean asked, frowning even more and setting the beer bottle on the table.
"He said it was Amara provoking him. And he's not going to fall for tricks like that," Sam said, shaking his head.
Hearing Sam's answer, Dean frowned even more, holding back his anger. It angered him that Chuck used tricks like this only to continue his spectacle. And once again used them to shift the blame onto Amara. Before Dean exploded with rage, he heard Alex's voice in his head, which explained everything to him.
Alex explained to Dean that the souls of these people had gone to the so-called Heaven, which was essentially a cage for souls built by Chuck. Hearing this, Dean calmed down but still continued to frown, showing that he didn't like it at all. Sam also nodded, showing that he didn't like it either, but they couldn't do anything about it. And they certainly couldn't force Chuck to save everyone.
"So he preferred to sit it out instead of stopping Amara's tricks again," Alex said, spinning on his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.
"Unfortunately… And he said we need to find her," Sam said, closing his laptop.
"So we'll go check on the last survivor. And where do we need to go?" Dean said, standing up from the bed and showing that he was ready to leave.
"To Lewis, Oklahoma. Maybe Amara wanted to send Chuck a message this way, or maybe something else. I don't know. But we really need to check this," Sam said, picking up his laptop and heading toward the door.
Alex and Dean nodded to Sam, saying they would grab their things and wait by the Impala. Sam nodded and went to his room for his things. When Sam left, Alex and Dean exchanged glances. Dean wanted to know what trick Chuck had pulled this time so he could understand the situation.
Putting away all his tools, including the almost-finished double trap, into his inventory, Alex explained to Dean the trick with the prophet that Chuck had pulled. Hearing this, Dean thought for a moment and nodded, understanding what was what. Leaving Alex's room, Dean went to his own room to grab his things.
Passing by the room where Chuck had settled, Dean heard Chuck once again singing his stupid songs in the shower. Grimacing in disgust, Dean entered his room and quickly gathered all the necessary things.
Taking everything he needed, Dean closed his room and headed to the garage. On the way to the garage, Dean's phone rang. Taking the phone out of his pocket, Dean's face twisted because of who was calling him. And the last thing he wanted right now was to talk to Metatron, who was almost on the same level as Chuck.
"What?" Dean asked in a direct tone, answering the call.
"As I understand it, your Scooby-Doo group has met Chuck," came Metatron's irritating voice from the phone speaker.
"If you called to brag that you were first, you can fuck off. I don't have time for this right now," Dean said irritably, about to end the call.
"Wait, I think you'll be interested in this, Dean. I have some… rather important information for you," Metatron quickly said, not letting Dean end the call.
"Fine, talk. And make it quick," Dean said, not wanting to talk to Metatron any longer than necessary.
"No. I'll tell you when we meet. I need to show you something," Metatron said, making it clear that it had to be an in-person meeting.
Dean wanted to snap at Metatron for this. But Metatron quickly named the address of the bar where they needed to meet and then ended the call. Dean looked at his phone and sighed irritably, putting it back in his pocket. Entering the garage, Dean told Alex and Sam who he had been talking to a couple of minutes ago.
Hearing who Dean had been talking to on the phone, Sam was quite surprised that Metatron had called himself. Getting into the Impala, Sam said that they still needed to meet with Metatron. After all, he might have something that could be useful to them.
Leaning back on the back seat of the Impala, Alex also agreed with this. After all, they wouldn't lose anything by meeting with this midget who in the past had wanted to take Chuck's place in Heaven. Dean looked at Alex and Sam, reminding them that they first needed to check on the last survivor.
"Alright, let's go already. Because if you don't do it, I'll teleport us straight there," Alex said, getting comfortable on the back seat of the Impala.
"Don't you dare teleport my Baby without my permission," Dean snapped, starting the Impala's engine.
Alex laughed in response to Dean's words and then closed his eyes, intending to rest for the five hours on the road to the town of Lewis. Grumbling to himself that he didn't allow anyone to teleport his Baby, Dean drove out of the bunker garage. When the bunker was empty, only Chuck remained inside.
Chuck came out of his room, drying his hair with a towel, and for a brief moment his face unnaturally distorted, covered with a strange ripple like interference on a TV screen. As if the mask Chuck wore had slipped off for a moment. Running his palm over his face, Chuck returned to his previous appearance as a smiling unsuccessful writer.
Lowering the towel onto his shoulders, Chuck began to whistle a tune, walking lightly toward the kitchen. Entering the kitchen, Chuck opened the refrigerator and began taking out ingredients to make himself a snack. Standing by the stove, Chuck hummed a melody that would have made an ordinary person's ears and eyes bleed. After finishing preparing his snack and leaving a mess in the kitchen, Chuck sat down at the table.
"Everything is still going according to the script… Hmm… And what's next… Oh yeah. Saving my poor beloved son and playing family… I need to rehearse my role as a father longing for reconciliation… Or should I play the role of a father who knows what's best… Hmm… A difficult choice. But it's so fun," Chuck talked to himself with a wide smile, slowly moving his fork across the plate.
Talking to himself, Chuck thought only about what role he should play, not worrying at all that something might not go according to the script. He had already convinced himself that everything was moving the way he wanted, except for minor glitches that made the script even more exciting.
Chuck didn't even worry about the small glitch in the form of the appearance of the new Death, who had once again sided with the Winchesters. After all, he knew the rules of this universe, which he himself had slightly edited, thereby further tying Death's hands.
And even the trap for Amara that Alex was preparing, he intended to use for his own purposes. Thinking about the upcoming finale he had written, Chuck couldn't hide the smile on his face. After all, he so enjoyed playing with his toys before breaking them.
And this universe had become not only a toy in his hands, but also an upcoming grand feast. After all, he had been preparing for this grand feast for so long that his stomach had begun to feel hunger. Calming his hunger with the thought that his grand feast would soon take place, Chuck laughed. But his laughter soon died down when he thought about the others like him.
"Pathetic cowards… Hiding in their holes and begging for scraps in dying worlds… It makes me sick just to think that I am of the same kind as them," Chuck said with undisguised disgust in his voice, pushing the plate away from himself.
Chuck didn't hide his disgust for those who were born the same as him. But unlike the rest of his kind, he wasn't going to parasitize on dying universes like a pathetic parasite. No, he wanted more, and he had done it. By stealing half of Amara's power, he had merged timelines from different universes, turning them into one universe that developed the way he wanted.
At first he had been afraid while doing this, fearing being noticed by the woman from whom he and his kind had fled. But Chuck knew this woman's character perfectly and understood that she wouldn't care what he was doing. And therefore the only beings he could fear were the Lords of Order.
But Chuck knew one small loophole with which he had managed to deceive the Lords of Order. And that was why he had stolen half of Amara's power, becoming part of this universe, which looked as if he had always been part of this universe since its formation. That was why he had decided with such joy to play the role of the Creator and even, as a mockery, given the same names to the Angels.
"Hehehe, you think I don't know these rules. As long as half of this power is in me, I am part of everything… Even those bastards wouldn't have guessed to do something like this. As these cockroaches say: if you want to hide, hide in plain sight," Chuck laughed loudly, not holding back his amusement.
Chuck continued to laugh loudly, reveling in his own genius. After all, he was sure that of all his supposed family, he had acted smarter than everyone and would ultimately be the winner. After all, for his cover he had done so much that no one would notice anything until he absorbed this universe.
Chuck was well aware that absorbing one universe would be too little, far too little. Even if this universe, which had become his feeding ground, was special, it still wasn't enough to get revenge. The fear of that woman still lived inside him, and he would no longer act as recklessly as back then in the past when he and the others had decided to rebel against that woman.
Chuck didn't know what the rest of his relatives were doing now, and he frankly didn't care. They had always been each for themselves, and after the attempt to raise a rebellion against their creator, they had all scattered in different directions, trying to preserve the remnants of their wretched lives.
But what Chuck didn't know was that all his little tricks had been noticed and that he had become yet another target of the one who hunted beings like him. And that the entire carefully written script had already been rewritten. And the chessboard on which he had been playing by himself had been flipped over.
But Chuck knew none of this and continued to revel in his own genius and the grand feast that awaited him soon. Having amused his ego, Chuck felt his appetite flare up. Pulling the plate closer to himself, Chuck returned to his light snack, thinking that he needed to return to his role before Alex, Dean, and Sam returned to the bunker.
Putting another piece of bacon in his mouth, Chuck couldn't hide the smile on his face, imagining the faces of everyone he had been playing with when the truth was revealed. Imagining such an amount of nourishing despair, Chuck slightly drooled in anticipation of the feast.
At the same time, Alex, lying on the back seat of the Impala, scratched his ear, feeling a slight itch. Not paying attention to it, Alex continued talking on video call with Enid, who couldn't help but share what was happening in Forks right now. Dean, despite sitting behind the wheel, listened very attentively to what was happening.
Even Sam turned off his podcast and listened with a serious face. Tired of just listening, Dean reached back, snatched the phone from Alex's hands, and attached it to the dashboard. Sighing wearily, Alex stood up and leaned on the front seats, looking at the phone screen with interest. Sam leaned closer, and Dean tried to watch with one eye what was happening.
"Do you think they'll fight?" Dean asked with undisguised interest in his voice.
"Hard to say. Judging by what's happening, probably not," Sam said with a serious expression.
"I bet ten bucks that Bella will try to stop them, and in the end Jacob won't hold back and attack Edward," Alex said, taking ten dollars out of his wallet.
"I support that. I bet ten bucks that Edward attacks first. And you, Sammy? You in?" Dean said, taking ten dollars out of his pocket and looking at his brother.
"Fine, I'll play with you. I bet that nothing will happen," Sam said, taking out his ten dollars.
While Alex, Dean, and Sam were making bets on what would happen, laughter from the girls and light whispers from the Cullen family, who had also decided to make their own bets, came from the phone. Especially Emmett, who didn't hide it and loudly announced what he was betting on.
Trying not to laugh out loud, Enid tried to hold the phone steady so as not to miss anything. While Enid tried to hold back her laughter, Alice took the phone from her, who could definitely film everything from the best angle. Meanwhile, Alex, Dean, and Sam watched it all as if it were their favorite soap opera that they weren't going to miss.
Dean even slowed down so as not to be too distracted from the road. With undisguised interest, they continued to watch through the phone screen as Edward and Jacob continued to argue with each other, while Bella stood between them, trying to stop the two of them. Soon a fight broke out, and Dean laughed loudly because he had been right when Edward attacked Jacob.
"Hahaha, I told you. Now your money is my money… Mmm, how it smells. Thanks for paying for my lunch," Dean said with a cheerful smile, waving the thirty dollars in his hands.
Looking at Dean's satisfied face, Alex kicked the seat he was sitting on. Even feeling the push, Dean didn't stop bragging about his thirty dollars, which he had won in a fair bet. Suppressing his irritation, Alex took his phone back and continued talking with the girls.
Sam also wasn't going to play along with his brother and put on his headphones to continue listening to the audiobook. Dean still continued to rejoice in his easy win, put the money in his jacket pocket, and pressed the gas pedal to speed up. A couple of hours later, the black Impala drove into a neighboring town near the town of Lewis.
Stopping to change into suits, they headed to the police station where Donatello was. Parking the car near the police station, Dean got out of the Impala first, slightly adjusting his suit.
Following Dean out, Alex slightly adjusted the gloves on his hands and followed Dean and Sam into the police station. Entering the police station, they immediately headed to the police chief to explain the reason for their visit. After a short conversation with the police chief, Alex, Dean, and Sam headed to the room where Donatello Redfield was.
"Professor Redfield. Federal Bureau of Control. We have a few questions for you," Dean said, entering the room first and showing his badge.
Alex and Sam followed Dean in and saw an elderly man with gray curly hair and a slightly overweight body. Donatello was dressed like a typical college professor, which he was. He wore a pair of thin-framed glasses on his face, but the most noticeable thing about his appearance was a small wound on his forehead, as if he had been hit by something.
Donatello himself, seeing the federal agents, felt great relief. After all, he didn't understand what was happening and how he should react to what he had seen. Donatello stood up from the chair, adjusted his clothes, and then extended his hand toward Dean.
"Call me Donatello. I was named after him," Donatello said, shaking Dean's hand.
"After the mutant turtle?" Dean asked in confusion, looking at Donatello.
"Dean, that's a sculptor from the Renaissance… Although it must be admitted, he has a very interesting view of art," Alex said, sitting down at the table and correcting Dean.
Dean turned to Alex and met his and Sam's gazes. Sam looked at his brother with a look that asked: "Are you serious or joking?" Alex covered his face with his hand, hiding the smile on his face and chuckling at what Dean had said.
Dean shrugged slightly and turned back to Donatello, whose face had a clearly forced smile. Clearing his throat into his fist, Dean suggested Donatello sit down so they could talk. When everyone had taken their seats, Alex and Sam took out their notebooks so that Donatello wouldn't have any suspicions.
"So, Professor Redfield. Would you like to tell us your version of what happened?" Alex said, tapping his pen on the notebook.
"The police think I'm a terrorist. I just teach chemistry at the university. I live quietly. I have a cat. Or rather, I had a cat," Donatello began, quickly explaining his version of what had happened.
"Sorry about your pet. But we still have a few questions," Alex said, making small notes in the notebook.
"Besides the fog that night, did you notice anything unusual… Or maybe someone unusual and strange on the street?" Sam said, asking the questions that interested him.
"Everything happened very quickly… I… I heard a strange noise on the street. I went outside and saw the fog. It came out of nowhere. We rarely have fog, especially like that. It was terrible," Donatello said, shaking his head as he recalled the events of that terrible night.
"What did you see when you went outside?" Dean asked, inviting Donatello to continue.
Hearing Dean's question, Donatello fell silent for a moment. The horrifying picture of dying people still stood before his eyes. What he had seen then was difficult to express in simple words. Still under the impression of what he had seen, Donatello slowly began to speak.
He started with how he had gone outside after hearing strange sounds. Falling silent again to choose the right words, Donatello continued. He began talking about how he had seen people banging their heads against the ground, walls, and even cars, loudly screaming for the voices in their heads to shut up.
Donatello described every detail he had seen in detail, and without realizing it, he described everything he had seen very thoroughly, including the strange black veins on the bodies of his neighbors. Finishing talking about what he had seen, Donatello fell silent again.
He ran his trembling hand to the wound on his forehead and lightly touched it with his finger, feeling the entire surrealism of what was happening, as if it were a nightmare from which he still hadn't woken up. After listening to Donatello's story, Alex, Dean, and Sam exchanged glances and then looked back at Donatello, wanting to hear the rest of the story.
"And then this happened," Donatello said, touching the wound on his forehead.
"What happened then?" Dean asked in a calm tone, looking at Donatello and inviting him to continue.
"I've never felt anything like it in my life. My head felt like it exploded… No, only from the pain, but also from… From knowledge and… from some kind of enlightenment! I saw things I never knew. Symbols and… and voices in languages I didn't know!" Donatello spoke quickly, struggling to find the right words for what had happened to him.
Hearing this, Dean and Sam immediately understood what had happened to Donatello. And they had already encountered people like this more than once, with whom the exact same thing had happened. Realizing that Donatello had become a prophet, it became clear to them how he had managed to survive that night when the town was enveloped in ominous fog.
Donatello himself couldn't stop, continuing to describe all the feelings he had experienced at that moment. Donatello talked about this unique feeling when his head had been filled with knowledge. But at one point his voice became quieter, and he began talking about how he had seen terrible things, deaths and destruction.
Rubbing his hands from nervousness, Donatello struggled to describe that feeling inside him when he had seen it. Dean looked at Alex and slightly nodded his head, showing that they needed to talk.
Alex nodded and closed his notebook, standing up from the chair. Before leaving, Alex and Dean looked at Sam, hinting to him that he should check Donatello to see if they had guessed correctly. Sam nodded and began writing in his notebook to check Donatello. Alex and Dean stepped away farther so they wouldn't be overheard.
"Is this that prophet trick you were talking about?" Dean said in a quiet voice, looking around to make sure they weren't being overheard.
"Yes, that's the one. Through Donatello, Chuck will point the way to Amara's hiding place. And we just need to play along, especially you," Alex said, nodding and answering Dean's question.
"I got it… Damn, I need coffee… My head is already spinning from all this," Dean said, rubbing his forehead and feeling another headache coming on.
"Want me to help?" Alex asked, raising his index finger and offering his help.
"No, thanks. The last time was enough for me when Cas pulled that mind-calming trick. The trick is cool, but I prefer the old methods," Dean said, pouring himself coffee into a paper cup.
"A cup of coffee and a handful of headache pills?" Alex asked, looking at Dean with a blank gaze.
"Exactly," Dean said, winking at Alex and taking a bottle of headache pills from the inner pocket of his jacket.
Chuckling, Alex shook his head, watching as Dean got rid of his headache in his usual way. Pouring himself some coffee too, Alex and Dean turned to Sam, who waved them over, showing that it was exactly what they had thought.
Having confirmed that Donatello was a prophet, Sam called Alex and Dean over so it would be easier for them to explain everything to Donatello. And the simplest way to do this was to trick Donatello into the Impala and explain everything on the way. After all, they had done this more than once, leaving no chance to escape.
And they had already learned this the hard way. Convincing Donatello was not difficult, telling him exactly what he himself wanted to hear. Alex sat in the back seat with Donatello to hold him in case he tried to jump out of the moving car. Driving out of town, Sam began explaining to Donatello what had really happened to him.
"I can't be a prophet! I'm an atheist and a chemist. I believe in molecules, not in God," Donatello said after hearing the whole truth about what had happened to him.
"All the prophets before you didn't know who they were either… Well, until God touched them," Dean said in a calm tone, letting Donatello know that everything was fine.
"God touched me?" Donatello asked, swallowing hard and touching the mark on his forehead.
"You could say that. I think it has to do with his sister Amara," Sam said, turning to Donatello.
"He has a sister?" Donatello asked in surprise, not believing what he had heard.
"Yeah. They have, how to put it, family feuds on a cosmic scale. He hides from her, she wants to kill him or drive him away, and then destroy everything. That's roughly how it goes," Alex said in a lazy tone, not taking his eyes off his phone screen.
"What?" Donatello asked, completely confused by what he had heard.
"Amara and God are one and the same. And you are connected to her. And with your help we can find her," Dean said, looking at Donatello through the rearview mirror.
"Why do you need to find her?" Donatello asked in an even more shocked voice, becoming even more confused about what was happening.
"To save her nephew Lucifer from her hands. They have, let's say, not the most pleasant relationship either. And we need him alive… And that's where you'll help us find him," Dean said, explaining why they needed Donatello.
"God, God's sister, Lucifer, Angels… No-no-no. This is all bullshit, let me out. I didn't sign up for this," Donatello said in a panicked tone, trying to open the doors of the moving car.
"Don't worry, Donatello. Death is sitting next to you, and he definitely knows when you're going to die," Dean said with a chuckle, watching Donatello's panic.
When Dean's words sounded, Donatello froze in place and slowly turned his head back, looking at Alex. Alex turned to Donatello, and their gazes met. Alex lazily yawned, and for a brief moment a scythe appeared in his hand.
At that same moment, Donatello's eyes rolled back, and he lost consciousness, hitting his head against the glass. Hearing the sound of the impact, Dean and Sam turned their heads and saw Donatello slowly sliding down the glass, unconscious. Sam looked at Dean and sighed heavily.
"Did you really have to say that?" Sam asked, looking at his brother.
In response, Dean only laughed, showing that he had done it just for fun. Alex, sitting behind Dean, also chuckled slightly and then buried himself in his phone screen again, continuing to reply to messages. Listening to the laughter of the two idiots, Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to think positively. After all, while Donatello was unconscious, it made their task of delivering him to the bunker easier.
To be continued...
(I guess I shouldn't have watched the series until the sun came up. But I couldn't help it; I was interested. Okay, now to the plot, everything is moving as it should. And we're moving in the right direction, namely, towards the finale. And the closer the finale gets, the more I think about the world that should be next. As I promised, it will be school. And the more I think about it, the more I lean toward my original choice. But I'll think about it some more. Okay, I'll go eat. Peace, love, and who's that in the sky? It's a flying sneaker.)
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