Alex, Dean, and Sam were in the small town of Hope Springs, where a truly nightmarish event had recently occurred. The entire town had been covered by a strange gray fog. Those who inhaled it instantly went mad and began attacking their loved ones and neighbors with inhuman fury.
But this whole bloody situation came to an end fairly quickly when the one who had orchestrated it all stepped onto the stage. The entity that had organized the massacre in Hope Springs wanted to arrange a truly spectacular appearance for itself in the role of savior. Like all avatars of Nyarlathotep, it thirsted for only one thing — to plunge the universe into an abyss of madness in order to eventually devour it completely.
This entire performance was arranged solely for one moment: to step onto the stage and be in the front rows. This whole spectacle staged by the entity served only one purpose — to become the main character of the story it had written itself. And now that its time had come, it was ready to play the role of the one who would save everyone.
Stepping onto the stage in the image of a savior, it was to come face to face with those it considered the main characters of its book. But in the eyes of this entity, Dean and Sam were nothing more than little puppets that it took enormous pleasure in manipulating, destroying their lives time and time again.
What amused it the most was how these two brothers again and again went through all the trials it sent their way, how they broke and still rose. For it, Dean and Sam had become its favorite toys, with which it was especially pleasant to play. But like any favorite toy, over time they began to bore it.
And now that these toys had stopped bringing the same pleasure, it was time to step onto the stage and play the role it had written for itself. Standing before Dean and Sam, the entity was already imagining their faces when it would tell them that it was He who had arranged their entire lives, all the deaths of their loved ones. And no matter how hard they tried, they would save no one else.
Now it appeared before Dean and Sam in one of its most successful guises, perfectly suited for such a scene — in the image of an unsuccessful writer named Chuck Shurley. Chuck looked at Dean, Sam, and Alex, calmly playing his role as the kind God who had decided to return to his creations and save them from the Darkness. A tender, carefully rehearsed smile shone on his face.
Looking at the stunned faces of Dean and Sam, Chuck saw exactly what he had expected. This immensely flattered his ego — when his toys were so sincerely surprised by his appearance. But Chuck still didn't like that his puppets had begun to rebel against him, especially Dean, who was gradually moving to Amara's side.
That was exactly why Chuck had arranged such a grandiose performance — to completely dispel all of Dean's suspicions that Amara might be good. Looking at Dean, Chuck maintained a warm smile, although deep down he wanted to kill him for the fact that his perfect script was starting to spoil.
Alex, Dean, and Sam looked at Chuck with completely different gazes. Dean held in his hands an amulet that glowed brightly, trying to understand what was happening here at all and why Chuck had suddenly appeared. Sam shared his brother's thoughts and was trying to comprehend what was happening with exactly the same goal.
For both of them, everything that had happened in these few moments had become another insane thing in their already insane lives. Only Alex looked at Chuck with a calm, almost indifferent gaze, hiding his true emotions behind a mask of slight bewilderment. Looking at Chuck, he was still surprised at how brazen such beings could be — they literally crawled out onto the stage themselves to show off their greatness.
That was exactly why Alex had always used this brazenness to lure them out into the open. Why search when they come out themselves? All that remained for Alex in this situation was to restrain the burning desire to attack Chuck and not ruin everything ahead of time.
No matter how much he wanted to beat this bastard, Alex wanted to force him to spit out everything he had ever consumed. Since Chuck wanted to play the role of the one seeking reconciliation with his sister, and then show that he was the real villain, Alex was ready to play along with him a little more in this play. Therefore, continuing to play the role of a bewildered friend, Alex pushed Dean in the shoulder, pulling him out of his stupor.
"What the hell does all this mean?" Dean asked, holding the glowing amulet in his hands and looking straight at Chuck.
"I will gladly satisfy all your curiosity. But first, it's worth going somewhere where we can sit calmly and discuss everything," Chuck began, perfectly playing his role and looking at Dean and Sam.
"We're not going anywhere with you. How do we know you're the real Chuck and not some wild spell… Or another piece of incomprehensible crap…" Dean began in a cold tone, looking him straight in the eyes.
Chuck did not react in any way to Dean's rudeness and continued to maintain a calm, benevolent smile. In his eyes, Dean was just a little fun toy whose limbs could be torn off at any moment.
Chuck had done this more than once — killed them again and again, and then resurrected them to continue his entertainment. What was the point of getting angry at a screaming toy if it was just a toy? So Chuck calmly raised his hand and snapped his fingers.
When the snap sounded, they instantly found themselves in the bunker. Dean closed his mouth without finishing. They began looking around, then stared at Chuck. There were now four in the bunker, but the fourth turned out to be not Alex, but Kevin — the dead prophet of the Lord.
Kevin's fate was also on Chuck's conscience. Kevin had been an ordinary young guy who was preparing to finish school and go to college when he suddenly learned that he had become a prophet, and his ordinary life was over. He had gone through torture, imprisonment, and ultimately died at the hands of an angel who had possessed Sam's body.
Dean and Sam, seeing Kevin, momentarily forgot even that Alex had not returned with them. Seeing the Winchesters' faces, Chuck gave a barely noticeable smile — this was exactly the effect he had been aiming for with his performance. Kevin, for his part, was just part of the crowd that was supposed to help him fit perfectly into this play.
"Kevin? Is that you?" Sam said in surprise, seeing a very familiar face.
"Guys! Glad to see you… You're probably on edge right now…" Kevin said with a smile, looking alternately at Dean and Sam.
Looking at Kevin, Dean experienced a whole storm of emotions. He felt genuine joy at seeing him alive again, but at the same time sharp guilt. After all, it was he who blamed himself for Kevin's death — the guy had died at the hands of an angel who had possessed Sam.
Dean still remembered Kevin's mother's face when they had to tell her that her son, whom she had searched for so long and for whom she had endured Crowley's torture, was dead. Sam and Dean had blamed themselves for his death for a long time, and seeing him alive again was too strong a shock for them.
"That's putting it mildly…" Dean replied hoarsely, not expecting to see a revived Kevin.
"It shows on you, Dean… You shouldn't be afraid. Trust Chuck. He believes you can handle what is destined for you… As I always believed in you," Kevin said with a warm smile, standing next to Chuck and looking at the brothers.
"And look what came of it…" Dean said in a hoarse voice, looking at Kevin with pain in his eyes.
Seeing Dean's face, Kevin smiled strainedly. He knew perfectly well that Dean blamed himself for his death. Looking at Kevin, Dean wanted to say a lot — from simple apologies to questions about what was happening to him now. But every word stuck in his throat. Sam also wanted to say a lot to Kevin, but finding the right words to talk to someone who had died because of you turned out to be incredibly difficult.
Watching as Dean, Sam, and Kevin tried to express their thoughts to each other, Chuck was ready to get popcorn to enjoy watching everything from the front rows with even greater pleasure. But he needed to continue playing the role of the kind God who had returned to save everyone.
At the same time, Alex was standing in the middle of the road not far from the police station in the small town of Hope Springs. People were running around him, hugging and loudly crying, repeating how sorry they were for what they had done and that they hadn't wanted to. Listening to their voices, Alex maintained complete calm on his face.
Around him, people were rejoicing that they had survived, while inside him a strong irritation was growing. He was one step away from snapping and telling everything to go to hell. Taking a deep breath, Alex reached into his jacket pocket for a thin cigar.
Continuing to maintain outward calm, he brought the cigar to his lips, struck a match, and lit it. Inhaling the smoke and slowly exhaling it through his nose, Alex took a few more drags but still couldn't completely overcome the irritation because the bastard Chuck had teleported only Dean and Sam. Raising his gaze to the clear sky, he brought the cigar to his lips again.
"He's fucked…" Alex said quietly, breaking the thin cigar with his fingers.
Throwing the broken cigar aside, he headed toward Dean's Impala, which Chuck had forgotten to take. Getting behind the wheel, Alex started the engine with a completely calm face and drove forward. At the same time, a completely different plan was maturing in his head. If earlier he had only wanted to take the second half of Amara's power from Chuck and then throw him to be torn apart by those who had personal scores with him, now Alex had added one small but very important point to his plans.
At that moment, he finally understood that it was time to let Dean in on everything and tell him the whole truth. If Chuck loved arranging such jokes, Alex was ready to help him play the role of the main clown in his own performance. Driving through the streets of Hope Springs, Alex headed toward the exit from the town, and a wide smile baring sharp teeth played on his face.
Continuing to smile, he took out his phone and wrote Amara a short message that the plans had changed a little. Amara's reply came almost immediately in the form of a question mark. Alex quickly outlined the new part of the plan in one message. A couple of moments later, Amara replied, agreeing to the changes.
"Agreed with Amara… Now Dean. I wonder what his face will look like…" Alex said with a grin, putting the phone back in his pocket.
Alex couldn't help but laugh, imagining Dean's surprised face. But at the same time, he knew perfectly well what would follow the truth. Alex considered Dean and Sam his family, even if they had spent only six months together. That had been enough to start feeling real emotions toward them.
He hadn't wanted to deceive them for so long, but there had been a good reason for it — Chuck had been watching too closely at certain moments. Alex was perfectly aware of how hard it would be for Dean to accept such "betrayal" in the form of a long concealment of the truth.
Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, Alex pressed harder on the gas pedal to leave the limits of Hope Springs as quickly as possible. It was time to put an end to all this. Driving beyond the town limits, Alex teleported along with Dean's Impala straight into the bunker's garage.
Shortly before Alex's return, Dean and Sam had managed to talk a little with Kevin before Chuck sent him back to Heaven. Now they were sitting in the bunker's main hall, looking at each other. A light smile still played on Chuck's face, as if everything was going exactly according to plan.
Sam was noticeably nervous, realizing who was standing before them. He definitely hadn't expected that God himself would be hiding under the guise of Chuck. Trying to comprehend this, Sam didn't know where to start the conversation. Dean was sitting on the stone steps leading to the library and looking at Chuck with a heavy, gloomy gaze.
He couldn't stop thinking about how many losses could have been avoided if Chuck had appeared much earlier. The opening of the gates of Hell, the breaking of the seals, Lucifer's arrival, the beginning of the Apocalypse, the opening of Purgatory, the Leviathans, the fall of the angels, and the appearance of the Darkness — Dean believed that all of this could have been prevented if Chuck hadn't been sitting on the sidelines.
Real anger toward Chuck burned inside Dean, because it was he who had allowed all of this to happen. Watching Dean and Sam, Chuck saw all these emotions in their eyes. What pleased him especially was the anger in Dean's eyes, which he wasn't even trying to hide. Chuck wanted to see even more of such emotions.
"Well, damn… So, um… Chuck… I probably shouldn't call you that?" Sam said in a nervous tone, looking at the calmly sitting Chuck.
"I like it. I've kind of even gotten used to this name," Chuck replied carefree, shrugging slightly.
"Alright… Let it be Chuck," Sam said nervously with a strained smile.
After these awkward words, silence fell again. Sam still didn't know where to start. Dean continued to look at Chuck with a heavy gaze, not intending to say what was currently boiling inside him. He understood that if he expressed all his feelings now, he would do it in a very rude form.
Feeling the awkwardness, Sam looked at Dean and saw that very look. He tried to show his brother with his gaze that he needed to calm down and pull himself together. But Dean ignored him and continued to look gloomily at Chuck. Seeing this, Sam understood that the situation could quickly escalate.
"Sorry, give Dean a minute to process what's happening. We didn't know you were still with us… Oh, I mean, we knew about Chuck… But we didn't know that Chuck was you… I mean, I hoped you were somewhere nearby. I prayed constantly… I hope my prayers didn't get lost in spam or whatever you call it," Sam said, trying to defuse the heavy atmosphere.
"Sam…" Dean said in a quiet voice, rubbing his hands and lowering his gaze.
"What?" Sam asked, turning to him.
"Shut up," Dean said without raising his eyes.
"Oh, sorry…" Sam replied quietly, closing his mouth and noticing his brother's state.
At that moment, Dean could no longer calmly look at Chuck. Anger flared up inside him that was becoming increasingly difficult to control. And he didn't consider this anger wrong — because it was directed specifically at Chuck. Continuing to rub his hands, Dean didn't even know how many people he had killed with these hands.
All this blood on his hands reminded him of what he had gone through and how many loved ones he had lost in order to ultimately see Chuck's smiling face, who had appeared as if nothing bad had happened before. And what was important, Dean's inner sense told him that Chuck was no God. He didn't understand why his intuition kept insisting on this, and he thought it was somehow connected to Amara. Placing his hands on his knees, Dean raised his gaze to Chuck again.
"Why..?" he asked in a hoarse voice, looking straight at Chuck.
"I see someone still has doubts," Chuck replied with a smile, looking him in the eyes.
"Listen… Chuck… With all due respect… Um… I suppose you came back to help deal with the Darkness, and that's great… It's just… fantastic. But you weren't here… for a very, very long time. And in those millennia, too much shit happened," Dean began, struggling to choose words so as not to snap.
"Dean, enough," Sam tried to stop him.
"No, I have to say this. For all the time you weren't here… Chuck… There were hundreds of epidemics, wars, mass murders. And what did you do? You wrote books and went to conventions with fans? Did you see all this? Or did you just prefer not to pay attention?" Dean continued, waving Sam off and struggling to contain his emotions.
"I saw everything, Dean. From beginning to end. I saw all of it," Chuck replied quietly, looking at him and hiding his anger behind a sad mask.
Chuck was holding back his anger because of Dean's questions. He didn't like that his toy had started asking questions. A good toy should stay silent and allow itself to be played with. But Chuck skillfully hid all these emotions. It wasn't the first time he had played on other people's feelings and manipulated those around him.
And if it weren't for the thirst to reach the finale of the script he had written, Chuck would have shown Dean what kind of entity he really was. But as a writer, he preferred to endure a little in order to see the planned finale. After all, he wanted to see despair on Amara's face when the one connected to her raised a hand against her. Chuck wanted to see Dean struggling with his feelings for Amara while raising a hand against her.
He wanted to see Sam egging his brother on. And when all this happened, Chuck would show everyone that it was he who had stood behind all the troubles. Only the thirst to reach this finale stopped Chuck from killing Dean and Sam right now. Sam, meanwhile, was looking at his brother and wanted to stop him. But Dean waved him off once again, showing that he wasn't finished yet.
"But you didn't do anything… I'm not trying to anger you. I somehow don't want to turn into a pillar of salt," Dean said in a hoarse tone, raising his hands in apology.
"Actually, I didn't do that. That was a completely different situation," Chuck replied embarrassedly, slightly looking away.
"Good… People… People pray to you. They build churches in your honor. They wage wars in your honor. And you do nothing about it," Dean continued.
"You're upset, Dean. I understand that. Believe me, I intervened… I really intervened… For a long time. I was sure that if I intervened, taught, punished, everything would get better. But nothing changed. And I realized that I should step aside…" Chuck began to say, speaking the truth but hiding it behind a sad tone and expression.
Listening to Chuck, Dean could no longer contain his emotions. Tears began to flow down his cheeks. All these words were not at all what he had wanted to hear. When Chuck finished, Dean wiped away the tears and simply stood up from his place. Descending the steps, he wanted to go somewhere to be alone. There was so much inside him that he could no longer control it and wanted to let it out somewhere.
Sam stood up from his chair to stop his brother, but he only raised his hand, letting him know that he needed time. With heavy steps, Dean began to leave the main hall. Coming out, he saw Alex, who was standing leaning against the wall next to the doors.
"Let's go to our usual place, have a drink and be quiet, as always," Alex said with a slight smile, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Dean looked at Alex with a heavy gaze. At that moment, he wanted to say a lot, but instead he simply nodded in agreement. Initially, Dean had wanted to go to his room and sit alone to process what he had heard. But hearing Alex's suggestion, he thought it would be better to go to their usual place where they usually just sat and drank.
Seeing the agreement, Alex smiled and walked forward, putting his hands in his jacket pockets. Dean quickly followed him. They left the bunker through the garage and walked along the path leading to their favorite place. Alex and Dean headed toward the old wooden pier, which was a ten-minute walk from the bunker. They always came there when they needed to think about something or just sit in silence.
They continued walking in silence, not talking. Alex didn't ask Dean a single question — he knew perfectly well how he was feeling right now. Alex wanted to say a lot to Dean about how the Creator had not abandoned his creation and that he did care about what was happening in different worlds. But Alex only sighed, understanding that it was still too early to talk about it.
After a ten-minute walk through the forest, they reached the old wooden pier. A light summer breeze blew over the water, everything around was calm, and that was exactly why they loved this place so much. Stepping on the creaky wooden planks, Alex and Dean approached the homemade wooden bench that they had once assembled from what they had found nearby.
"It's been a while since we've been here," Alex said, sitting down on the bench.
"A couple of months, I guess… So much has happened during this time… And here we are again," Dean replied in a tired tone, hunching over and covering his face with his hands.
Alex looked at Dean and for the first time saw his friend in such a state. Dean hadn't just gotten upset over a small problem — he had completely fallen apart, as if everything around him had bored him. Placing a hand on Dean's shoulder, Alex thought about using a spell to calm the mind, but at the last moment he abandoned the idea.
Removing his hand, he took a very rare bottle of alcohol and a couple of glasses out of his inventory. Opening the bottle, Alex poured the drink and handed one glass to Dean. Dean's nose twitched when he caught the pleasant, unfamiliar aroma. Dean felt such a sweet, floral smell for the first time.
Straightening up, he looked at the offered glass. Alex smiled, seeing his reaction, and suggested trying it. After hesitating a little, Dean took the glass and took a small sip. When the alcohol touched his tongue, Dean felt the most pleasant taste he had ever tried in his life. The drink was so soft and refined that it seemed as if he was drinking not alcohol, but nectar.
"What is this? I've never tried anything like it. Where have you been hiding such alcohol all this time?" Dean asked in surprise, looking at the clear liquid in the glass.
"Do you want the truth or my usual bullshit about where I get all my alcohol from?" Alex asked, bringing his glass to his lips.
"I've had enough of the bullshit for today. I need the truth," Dean replied seriously, looking intently at Alex.
"This is Ambrosia. Or the nectar of the gods. I received it as a gift after I saved one world from Ragnarok," Alex said in a calm tone, taking another sip.
Dean looked at him with a blank gaze, making it clear that he had asked not for another tall tale, but for the truth. Alex only shook his head, perfectly understanding how difficult it was to believe such words. Finishing his glass, he took the bottle and offered Dean more.
Without waiting for an answer, Dean extended his glass, allowing Alex to fill it. Continuing to drink, Dean continued to enjoy this incredible taste. He became more and more interested in where Alex had gotten such alcohol.
"And honestly, where did you get this?" Dean asked again, turning to Alex.
"I already told you. In one universe, the gods decided to destroy humanity. And I stopped it and reconciled both sides," Alex replied in a lazy tone, looking at the water and resting his cheek on his palm.
"Listen, this isn't funny anymore. I asked you to tell the truth. I'm already fed up with all this half-truths…" Dean began to get irritated, until his voice suddenly cut off.
Listening to Dean, Alex simply sighed and reached his hand toward his head. When Alex's finger touched Dean's forehead, his voice instantly cut off. Dean's eyes clouded over for a moment, and dozens of images flashed before him. Dean saw everything — from Alex's arrival in Valhalla to his machinations with the tournament.
He didn't just see every battle against the gods that Alex had participated in — he literally experienced every moment on his own skin. Dean's forehead became covered with large drops of sweat, and his face quickly turned pale. Seeing his state, Alex sighed heavily — he had forgotten to cast the spell that calmed the mind.
So instead of the role of an outside observer, Dean had to experience everything himself. Before Dean could fall off the bench, Alex managed to grab him by the arm. Only a couple of moments had passed, and the flow of memories stopped. But for Dean himself, these were not moments, but much more.
"Convinced?" Alex asked with a smile, looking at Dean's pale face.
Dean wanted to open his mouth and snap back, but at the same moment he felt a strong nausea and dizziness. Clutching his mouth, he immediately vomited everything he had managed to eat that day at his feet. Alex instantly moved away so as not to get dirty. After vomiting everything, Dean breathed heavily, wiping the saliva with his shaking hands.
Still feeling dizzy, he raised his gaze to Alex with one simple question in his eyes: what the hell had he just seen. Without changing his expression, Alex took a bottle of water out of his inventory and handed it to Dean. He snatched the bottle, drank half in one gulp, and poured the rest over his head to come to his senses.
"So let's do it again… What the hell did I just see?" Dean asked, wiping his face and looking straight at Alex.
"The truth you wanted so much… Cool, right? Other worlds, gods who are stronger than those pieces of shit you and Sam killed. A villain who manipulated everything from behind the scenes… And, of course, me in the role of the villain's conqueror," Alex said in a cheerful tone, pointing his finger first at Dean and then at himself.
"Alright… Alright… Let's say. What are you? From what I saw, you're definitely not Death, but something else," Dean said in a heavy tone, looking intently at Alex and trying to read something in his eyes.
"If you want to know the whole truth, then you'll have to follow me. Do you agree?" Alex said, standing up from the wooden bench and taking the bottle of Ambrosia in his hand.
Dean looked at him and thought for a moment. Thoughts raced from one extreme to the other. Not knowing what to answer, he suddenly heard Amara's voice in his head, which he hadn't heard for several days. Amara told him to follow Alex, and then the truth he so wanted to know would finally be revealed.
Hearing that even Amara was advising him to follow Alex, Dean slowly nodded. Seeing the agreement, Alex raised his hand, and the pentagram on his white gloves glowed slightly. At the same moment, blood began to seep from Alex's shadow, causing Dean to involuntarily step back.
He watched as the blood that had appeared from the shadow flowed in one direction, turning into a large puddle. A moment later, a Red Door began to appear from this puddle of blood, along which pulsating red veins flowed. Seeing this, Dean swallowed, feeling his heart clench at the sight of these doors. When the Red Door fully materialized, Alex lowered his hand and approached it.
"Let's go, Dean. We need to change the place for our heart-to-heart talk," Alex said, grabbing the bloodied door handle.
"Is there no more suitable place for a conversation? It seems to me that on the other side of the doors there will be a place worse than the hell I've been to more than once," Dean said, shifting his gaze from the Red Door to Alex.
"And you're not wrong. On the other side is a world where all possible human nightmares live. But at the same time, this door also leads to other places. So stop acting like a coward and follow me," Alex said, opening the Red Door.
"Who are you calling a coward? Are you trying to dare me?" Dean snapped, taking a step forward with a serious expression on his face.
"You guessed it. So if you don't want to be called a pussy… You'd better not fall behind," Alex said, fully opening the Red Door.
When the Red Door fully opened, Dean saw what was on the other side. Before him was a long corridor hung with creepy paintings. The first thing Dean thought when he saw this corridor was that it was some kind of nightmare museum. Peering into it, Dean cautiously approached closer.
And as soon as he was at the threshold, Alex decided to help him take the last step. Standing behind Dean, he raised his leg and kicked him in the ass, literally pushing him inside. Dean's eyes instantly widened from the blow. Stumbling over the threshold of the Red Door, he fell face-first onto the floor of the creepy museum. Alex didn't stop smiling as he stepped over Dean, who was lying on the floor.
Stepping over Dean's body, Alex slammed the door behind him, not giving him any chance to escape. When the Red Door slammed shut, the old wooden pier plunged into silence again, and the door itself slowly dissolved into the shadow. The pier became empty, as if no one had been there a moment ago.
To be continued...
(And so here I am again, ending the chapter on a convenient moment, like the most terrible person. But you should be used to this by now. You know how it happens. So what's next in the story? Talking to Dean and answering questions and all that. And then helping Dean become much stronger than he is now. And then moving on to the next stages of Alex's plan. So let's move on. The end of this arc is not over. So, forward to the end. And I'm going to go get something to eat. Peace, love, and let me in.)
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