The Wheels On The Bus Epilogue

He hasn’t left his room in weeks.

He takes to this, sometimes. Amara’s used to it, at this point. The month before this, he’d been alright with walking around, doing mundane things like shop for food or dine out, things he used to do as Chuck Shurley, prophet of the Lord, when Chuck Shurley was Chuck Shurley, prophet of the Lord and not the literal creator of the universe going on a nuclear rampage. He knows how to do this, how to take care of himself, but some days, he just shuts himself inside the motel, and he doesn’t eat, doesn’t go out. Amara’s not sure if he sleeps.

She wonders if he’s scared of death. Of oblivion. She wonders if people like them can have souls, powerless or not. Would he just cease to exist, after this? Or would he answer to the rules of his universe now, because Chuck Shurley, prophet of the Lord was born human, with a human mother and father and a human past, even if Chuck is technically the guy who kickstarted this whole universe in the first place. Would he answer to that now, then, with the deified part of him gone?

She knocks on the door, tentatively.

“Chuck?”

No answer. She could just show up in his room, but she doesn’t think that would help. It would probably just rub it in his face that he can’t do something as simple as that anymore.

“You have to eat, brother,” she says.

Still no answer. She tries the doorknob.

It turns.

The room he’s in isn’t messy. In fact, it’s very much in order, everything right where it was when he’d rented it.

It’s untouched. All he’s done since he’s gotten here is sit, or eat when he does eat, and lie down on the ratty mattress this stale little room has. He’s lying down there, now, staring at the ceiling, not asleep.

She sits on the edge of the bed.

“Chuck.”

“What are you still doing here?” he asks.

She sighs. “I’m worried about you, you know.”

He snorts.

“Worried,” he says. “You did this to me.”

“We’ve talked about this,” she says. “You know why it had to be done.”

“No, I don’t,” he says. “I don’t understand what is so hard to get about how this world is so flawed, so cruel to itself, and yet you – ” He turns to her then. He actually looks betrayed. “How could you?”

Amara doesn’t answer. She looks away instead.

Eventually, she lets out another sigh. “Do you remember,” she says. “The day you told me about your plans for creation?”

“Clear as day,” he says. “I wanted to make something, and you hated it.”

“I was jealous of it,” she says. “I can’t create, Chuck, and I was…I was terrified that I would lose you to your creations. We only had each other.”

He only hums.

“I couldn’t see what you saw in it, the possibilities you were talking about,” she says. “But you loved it, so much. So, so much. You were so excited, you were talking about a garden, and about something you’ve never tried before. You were talking about creating something you couldn’t control, something that could think for itself, and you were curious to see where it would go.” She smiles. “You were talking about free will, something your angels only had a sliver of, and you wanted to know what it could do. What the humans could do with it.”

He doesn’t answer her. The look in his eyes tells her he’s listening, though.

“You weren’t even thinking about stories at that point, yet, you just wanted to know what would happen,” she says. “But above all, there was that love, Chuck. There was that wonder. And that…scared me.”

She turns to him. “That scared me because I thought I already lost you to them.”

He frowns.

“There’s a lot to be talked about, but, I remember that,” she says. “Even after you locked me away, I remember that.”

“What are you saying?” he asks.

“What happened to you, brother?” she asks. “Where did all that love go? That passion? That wonder?” She smiles bitterly. “Did your pride get to you?”

His frown gets deeper, but he doesn’t answer, still. They’ve had this conversation so many times already.

“Do you recognize yourself?” she asks. “Don’t you remember how you were, when this all started? Did you let your ego get in the way of all the reasons you drove yourself to create?”

He looks away at that, turning over so he doesn’t have to face her.

“It’s not too late, you know,” she tries.

“Of course it is,” he says. “Look at me.”

“Your power had to be taken away because you were going mad,” she says. “But it’s not too late to remember how everything used to be. I know it’s been millennia, but didn’t it make you happy? It used to bring you so much joy. What happened?”

He still doesn’t answer her. Maybe he’s just as tired as she is about this whole thing.

But then he does speak. He asks, “Why are you still here?”

“I’m trying to help you.”

“But why?” he asks. “You think I’m wrong. You think I’m going mad. You think I’ve let myself fall away into – into conceit. Why the hell are you still here?”

Amara pauses. She sighs again.

“Because despite it all, I do love you,” she says. “And I would like to try my best to help you, even if you hate it.” She looks up, towards the windows, covered by curtains. The sunlight is filtering in through the thin cloth.

“I love this world, brother. I love everything you’ve created, and it…saddens me that you can’t see just how wonderful everything you’ve created is,” she says. “I see it, now. All the things you were talking about years, and years, and years ago. I can see it now, brother.”

Gently, she puts a hand on his arm. “I just want you to remember that feeling again.”

He quiets again. She sighs.

As she starts to turn away, she feels a warm hand cover her own. It’s barely there, hovering lightly, but, he’s still done it.

She smiles.

It’s a start.

-

“And have you been sleeping on time?”

“Mom,” Jack says, looking scandalized even when there’s only three people in the kitchen. “I’m not a child.”

“You’re three years old, Jack,” Castiel says. Kelly motions to him with a hand as if he’s proven her point.

“Yeah, but I’m not like – ” He motions his hand to be somewhere around the height of the table they’re all sitting around. “Not like a child-child.”

“But is he taking care of himself, Castiel?” Kelly turns to Cas instead, seeing as her son isn’t giving her a straight answer. Jack sighs.

“He is,” Castiel says. “He’s had bad influences lately, but he’s still taking care of himself, for however long that lasts.”

“Mm, I should visit Earth, sometimes,” Kelly says. “Talk to your friends.”

“I’m finally feeling what teenagers feel when their parents try to talk to their friends,” Jack says, before taking a bite out of his jelly donut. Kelly laughs, loud and bright.

“That’s implying any of them are cool,” Castiel says. “Absolutely none of them are.”

“You know I’m joking, they sound lovely,” Kelly says. “As long as they stop encouraging you to steal things.”

“Aha, but it’s usually Hobby Lobby,” Jack says.

Kelly thinks it over for a moment.

“Fair enough,” she says, eventually.

Jack smiles, smug.

There’s a knock on the door. All three of them turn to see Michael poke his head in.

“Hello, Miss Kline,” he says, nodding his head in a greeting.

“Michael,” she says. “You want some coffee?”

“Perhaps next time,” he says. “We’ve business to attend to.”

“Oh, you’re ready, then?” Jack asks.

Michael nods. “Ready. I’ve left Gabriel and Raphael in charge.”

Jack hums, relieved. Even if Gabriel can be a little shit, Raphael will keep everything in line, her brother included. Idly, he wonders how Lucifer’s doing. He’s still on parole, not allowed in Heaven, especially with its fragile state, but it’s not like he wants to be here anyway; his powers have also cut to a fourth just so he doesn’t wreak any havoc on earth. He’s currently somehow slowed down on the urge to commit arson every few months or so. Maybe they should visit him today, just stop by for a little bit.

“Big day today?” Kelly asks.

Jack stuffs the rest of his jelly donut in his mouth, trying to chew everything down as he gathers up his empty plates and cup so he can place them in the sink. “Na iwwy, iff jus ga afew fings’a tay – ”

“Chew, Jack.”

He does, pausing for a few minutes to work through the donut. He swallows and clears his throat. “Not really, we’ve just got a few things to get in order.”

“It’ll only be for a bit, and then we’ll be back here,” Castiel says. “There’s still a lot of work to do in Heaven, after all.”

“Good luck, anyway,” she says, leaning over to press a kiss to Jack’s cheek. The young boy smiles. He loves it when his mother does that. He doesn’t get to visit her that often, even with the whole ‘new god’ thing. Hopefully, he’ll be able to, after this.

“Thanks,” he says.

“You too, Cas.” She takes the plates and cup from Castiel’s hands, waving him off as he starts to protest that he can help her. “Don’t worry about it, there’s barely anything to do here in Heaven. I can do a few chores to stave off the boredom.” She laughs. “Besides, Earth’s a little more time-sensitive.”

“True,” Castiel concedes.

“We’ll be right back,” Jack promises. His mother only shakes her head fondly.

“I know,” she says. “Go on. Michael’s waiting.”

Michael doesn’t look like he’s bothered by having to wait though, instead looking at the three of them in understanding. Still, Kelly’s right, so Jack and Cas each give her a hug goodbye, before joining following Michael out of the house and into the hallway, headed for the gateway to Earth.

Heaven’s hallways are always so pristine, gleaming white with tile and metal and glass, but at least they’re not very clinical and cold, these days. There’s actually bit of a calming energy to them now. Michael’s told Jack that it’s reflective of his powers and his demeanor, and Belphegor’s confirmed as much, chortling at something about the power of love and all that.

Jack opens his eyes to a playground as the gateway to Earth opens. He steps out the sandbox he, Michael and Castiel have landed on, breathing in petrichor. He’s always loved the rain. He’ll miss it. There’s probably memories of rain in Heaven, but he’s going to miss it anyway.

“Heya!”

The three of them turn to the monkey bars. There’s a child sitting at the very top, in a bright yellow raincoat. He waves at them, smiling brightly, eyes flickering grey for a moment. It’s one of the Shedim.

“Hello,” Jack says, lifting his hand up in greeting. “Are Belphegor and the others around?”

“Oh, yeah, they’re back at the bunker,” the demon says. “I’m just on gateway duty today, I’m not here to give you any emergency news or anything.”

“Oh, thank you. Good to know.”

Considering the crisis of Heaven being barely held up by angels, at least pre-Hosts-resurrection, Jack had issued a mass recall as soon as possible. They’re still sorting through the numbers and restructuring everything upstairs, but in order to keep things running smoothly on Earth, Belphegor’s had Hell put some shifts in.

The Shedim are more than happy to guard some gateways on certain days. It beats being stuck in some unknown pocket of Hell.

With all three of them on Earth, it’s only a breath away from the bunker. They fly there, quicker than any human can even blink, appearing at the old, seemingly-abandoned entrance that works to deter people from getting any closer, for fear of getting tetanus or getting lost in an old building.

The others are, true enough, gathered around the table when they get inside. Sam’s reading something, Dean and Adam are both sitting across each other, a chessboard between them, and Rowena is in a loveseat nearby, a book in her hands. Belphegor appears to be in an argument with one of the Shedim that’s showed up for something. It’s the one that had carried him around during the attack at the school, months ago.

“But I don’t want to rule Hell,” Belphegor says.

Ah. Power vacuum issues.

“Kinda too late for that, boss,” she says. “You already do.”

“But don’t want to.”

“Shoulda thought of that before you used Lilith’s Crook, huh,” she says.

“Ruling Hell?” Castiel asks as he descends the stairs. The others look up at the sound of footsteps. The frown on Dean’s face from his game of chess with Adam eases.

“It’s a mess,” the Shedim says, falling back into an empty seat that suddenly moves itself away from the table and right where she is, so it catches her. “Like, yeah, most of everyone’s back downstairs but…what are we supposed to do, you know?”

“Be hellish,” Belphegor says.

“There is an order to these things,” she says, slapping the back of her hand onto her palm to emphasize her point. “Even I know this, and I’ve literally been living under a rock for years. You know this. You were a pencil-pusher.”

“Exactly, I was a pencil-pusher. I don’t do well ruling anything,” he says. “Have you met me?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Can you secede power?” Michael asks.

“If there was someone next in line, sure,” Belphegor says. “But all the top demons have been dead for years. Sam’s the Boy King by birthright, but he doesn’t want to rule Hell – ” Sam waves a hand as if brushing that aside as he says that. “ – so that leaves me, the idiot who used Lilith’s Crook. Nobody’s doing a coup right now, for some fucking reason.”

“All the top demons in Hell are dead, you just said,” the Shedim says.

Belphegor points at her. “You throw a coup. Kill me. Right now. Kill me.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Jack says, patting his shoulder as he comes to a stop beside him. “At least your body’s not trying to kill itself every two seconds.”

“You fuckers are just lucky I’ve built up an immunity,” he says.

The Shedim snorts. “You didn’t.”

It had been tricky, considering everyone’s anxiety of what would happen if Hell was let loose again, but, after everything had been stuffed back into where it was supposed to be – the ghosts of the dead back in Hell and every demon had been recalled back downstairs, Belphegor had slowly started giving everyone’s autonomy back. They’d sorted out a rough outline of duties after, with him choosing to honor the contract with the Shedim. He may not be controlling them, but he’s still hyperaware of everything Hell does, courtesy of the Crook and all, so if any of them try anything funny, he’ll know it.

None of them have tried, so far, much too fascinated by the world. They’re just curious, apparently. There’s not much of a lust for destruction with them when they don’t really know what the fuck they’re supposed to destroy and why.

“But someone’s still got to take the job,” Belphegor says, sighing.

“I’ve been living under a rock, I can’t do it, don’t even think about it,” the Shedim says. “None of my siblings are capable either.”

“Damn it,” Belphegor says. “If I put an ad out to Craigslist, will someone answer?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Rowena says, closing the book she’s been trying to read for the past five minutes and has failed to do so. “I’ll do it.”

Belphegor turns to her, stars in his eyes. “For real?”

“It’s an open position and you hate the job,” she says. “Nobody else is stupid enough to hand out the throne to Hell for free.”

“Thank you,” Belphegor says, fake-wiping at his eyes even when there’s no tears coming out of them. “Thank you, I love you.”

“Disgusting,” Rowena says. “But – this is on condition that you get to keep the killer headache. I’ve got enough to think about already.”

“If it means I don’t have to worry about Hell, then deal,” he says. It’s not like any of the Shedim would let anyone use the Crook and get power over them, anyway. He’s earned their trust with him vouching for them to be able to walk the Earth, but he’s aware of their wariness of everyone else, even if they’re on the same team as him.

That, and he’s also a demon. There’s some solidarity to be invoked there.

“I declare you Queen of Hell, and myself a free man,” Belphegor says, eyes flashing yellow for a moment, sending the declaration down to every single poor damned bastard in existence. Must be one hell of a news report, Jack thinks, to just be minding your own business and then hear that there’s a new ruler in Hell, but hey, it’s how Belphegor does things.

Still, he does say, “There’s gonna be a demon arriving to show you around in a few hours. Redecorate and do whatever the fuck you want and all that, but try not to fuck around with the weapons. Ask me questions for that, because some of those are…unstable.” He grimaces. “Lilith and some of the others had a knack for experimenting, but not perfecting.”

“Noted,” Rowena says.

Jack chuckles, amused. He’s missed this. He’ll missthis, but some things must be done. They can’t just fix the universe halfway, after all. He takes a seat at the table, Michael and Cas finding other empty seats to fill in. The Shedim, sensing the need for privacy gives a small bow as a polite goodbye and vanishes in the next blink.

It’s just them now.

“So,” Dean starts. “What do you have to talk to us for?”

Jack shares a look with Cas, and then with Michael. He draws in a breath.

“We’re leaving for a while,” he says. “Cas, Michael and me.”

Sam frowns. “What for?”

“Heaven’s still a wreck,” Jack says. “It’s steadier now, a lot more stable, but the angels have no idea what they’re doing, or what they’re going to do, and if we don’t help them and get everything in order, I’m afraid the chaos might lead to something more dangerous.” He pauses. “Not to mention, some of them aren’t taking the…changes too lightly.”

“That’s fair,” Adam says. “I mean, they barely know you.”

Jack nods. “But, well, Heaven’s a pillar of the universe. If we’re fixing the whole thing, we’ll have to fix that, too,” he says. “And I can’t secede power like Belphegor, not when I’m actually holding onto the power, and not just a title.”

“How long are you gonna be gone for?” Sam asks.

“A while,” Jack says. “I can’t specify any time, I don’t know how long this will take, but, a while.”

“We’re helping him. The angels listen to Castiel and myself better than they do him, at least for now,” Michael says. “Besides, Heaven is still a home to us, regardless of everything that’s happened.”

“We’ll visit,” Castiel adds in. “Every now and then, we’ll drop by.”

“And if you ever need us, you can call us,” Jack says.

“It’s not going to take years, is it?” Dean asks.

Jack doesn’t answer.

“We don’t know,” Michael says.

“It’s not forever,” Jack says. “I’m – I’m not going to interfere with this world. Not in the way Chuck did. I’m not…running a story, or a production, or anything like that. I promised that the world would simply exist and simply be and I’m standing by that.” He nods, more to himself than anything. “But I also promised to fix the universe from destroying itself.”

He looks to Adam, then to Michael, then to Belphegor. They were gathered in the bunker, like this, once.

“So I’m going to fix it, and then…”

“Then?” Sam asks.

“Then the rest of whatever happens, happens,” Jack says, smiling, a little sadly. “If I fix every problem in the world, people won’t learn. People won’t grow and realize that as they live, their actions have consequences, for themselves, and for their children, and for everyone around them, and they can’t learn.” He shakes his head. “I can’t hold humanity’s hand, not like that.”

He sighs. “And I’m not going to take away its freedom, either. I’m done with that. Heaven is done with that. No more of the Winchester Gospels, or whatever theatre for an audience of one that Chuck is running. No more messing about,” he says. “Just everyone living their lives.”

He smiles. “And…well, when people have to be their best? They can be.”

“You’ll visit?” Sam asks.

“We’ll visit,” Jack says. “I don’t see the harm in it, as long as you don’t ask me for anything too ridiculous.”

Dean raises a hand. Adam swats it down.

“We’ll visit,” Michael says, turning to Adam.

Dean grumbles something that sounds like, “You better,” hazarding a glance at Castiel. Jack says nothing about it.

“Don’t worry,” Jack says. “We’re always nearby, you know? Angels over your shoulder and all that. Divinity in everything…”

He stands, letting out a laugh, eyeing the shelves of the bunker, the initials scuffed on the table, even the way the chairs are arranged. He’d grown up here. He’d never forget this place. It feels silly to be committing it to memory when he knows he’s going to return, but he does it anyway. Who knows how long he’ll be away?

“We’ll always be this close,” he promises, a hand over his heart. If he’s in the rain, he can watch over his family. If he’s in the wind, he can watch over his family. If he’s in the earth, he can watch over his family.

Sam walks over to him, pulling him in for a hug. “We’ll miss you.”

Jack nods, holding him close as well. “I’ll miss you too.”

Dean steps forward, taking a turn to wrap his arms around him once Sam steps away. “Come here, kid.” He’s been a little more open with his affection since Chuck’s gone. He’s wary, and there’s always cautiousness in his movements, but, he’s trying.

Jack sees Adam and Michael across the table, saying their temporary goodbyes.

“Hey,” Belphegor says, when Dean’s let Jack go. “Good luck up there.”

“Thanks,” Jack says.

“You’ll need it,” Adam says, coming over to stand beside the demon.

“I really do,” Jack says. “Angels can be stubborn.”

“Tell me about it,” Adam says, glancing towards Michael, who frowns.

“I resent that,” Michael says.

Jack puts a hand to his mouth, laughing, Adam snickering with him.

“But really,” Adam says, sobering. “Good luck.”

“To you guys too,” Jack says. “Who knows what’s going to happen next, after all?”

“Yeah,” Sam says, but there’s no fear in his eyes. Just relief, contentment. “Who knows?”

“I know one thing,” Dean says, smiling so widely in a way Jack hasn’t seen him smile in months. He looks happy. He looks like he’s finally gotten some well-deserved rest, for once.

They all do.

“We’re free.”