"But if we just spoke, like we meant it

Would you reference

This open part of me

The minute I know the time we spent in

Came corrected, in my anatomy."

-"Cold War", Cautious Clay


"You did what?"

Castiel is sitting on the sofa next to him. A clinking of glasses in the kitchen is Sam and Dean grabbing a couple of beers out of the fridge.

"I'll explain everything," says Jack in a hushed voice.

Sam and Dean join them in the sitting room. Jack and Castiel are handed beers, but neither of them open them.

"Where are John and Mary?" asks Castiel.

"Over at Bobby's," says Sam. He glances at Dean, some unspoken message that only they can read, and at the moment, Jack feels nervous.

"So are you going to tell us?" says Dean suddenly.

Jack's heart skips a beat. "What?"

"Why you skipped out on us so fast at dinner the other night?" Dean doesn't blink. It's one of those stares that reminds Jack that Dean has always noticed more than he lets on.

Castiel doesn't move or make any indication that he knows anything.

"I, uh…" says Jack.

"Because I know you're all hyped up on God juice now," says Dean, "but you're still you. And I can tell—" He looks at Sam again. "We can tell when something is off."

Jack looks to Sam. "You told him?"

Sam, rather than looking guilty, says defiantly, "Of course I told him. I told him what I know."

"And what does that mean?"

"It means you're hiding something from us, Jack," finishes Dean. "So…spill."

Jack takes a deep breath and looks to Castiel. The angel looks defensive.

"I kept my word, Jack," says Castiel. "I didn't say a word of this to them."

Jack knows he's telling the truth, but Dean is particularly upset.

"You should have told us, Cass," says Dean roughly.

But Castiel shakes his head. "No," he says strongly. "I made a promise, even if I didn't agree with it. But I gave him my word, Dean. Surely you can respect that."

"Depends on what the kid's about to say," he grumbles.

"Well, Jack?" says Sam, a little more gently. "Will you tell us?"

With a furrowed brow, Jack considers his options. Clearly, Sam and Dean are worried—the very thing he was trying to prevent by keeping everything a secret. And clearly, even being around them was enough to give away that something was wrong.

"Alright," he says heavily. "I can see that you won't rest until you know the truth."

"That's all we want," says Sam. "The truth."

Jack rests his hands on his knees and sits up, rigidly. "The first thing you need to know," he says slowly, "is that having all of Chuck's power is…it's difficult."

"Are you hurt?" says Dean, setting his beer down.

"No, that's not what I mean," says Jack. "I mean about the responsibility. When you have the power to change the universe, you realize that there are choices that need to be made—hard choices."

"You mean like changing Heaven?" asks Sam. "Breaking Bobby out of Heaven's prison and Cass out of the Empty? Those were all good things, Jack."

"Yes, but where does it end?" says Jack sharply. "I can do…anything. Do you understand what that means?" They boys are silent. "I'll tell you," he says. "It means that when there was evil in the world and I didn't fix it, it was my fault. It means that when there were monsters on Earth, all of the pain and death that came from them was my fault. It's my responsibility to make things right—to make everything good again. Because if I don't…" His voice drops to a whisper. "I'm just trying to be good."

"Jack," says Sam in a hushed voice. "What do you mean…when there were monsters on Earth?"

Castiel is on the edge of his seat now, too. Jack hasn't told him this part yet.

"I made some changes," he says. "It started with saving a few people on Earth. Just a few at a time, and then a few more. But I couldn't keep up. There was too much evil on Earth. And it was my fault for not interfering. So…I took it away."

"You took…what away?" asks Sam.

"The evil," says Jack. "The monsters. Diseases. Hunger. All things bad. They're gone now."

It seems that whatever Dean was expecting was not this. "Like…gone gone?" he says incredulously. "No more monsters?"

"No more monsters," says Jack. "All of the demons back in Hell. No more bad things. Only paradise."

"Paradise," breathes Castiel. He is staring at Jack with renewed awe. "Like what you promised me before you were even born."

"Yes…" Jack looks to his family, searching. "Do you…do you think it was the right choice?"

"Jack…" says Sam, "of course it was the right choice. You did what Dean and I had been trying to do our whole lives. Rid the world of monsters."

Relief floods through Jack like a wave.

"It's a win," says Dean, "the kind of win that we deserve—that the world deserves."

"I knew you were powerful, Jack," says Castiel. "But even so, what you have been able to achieve since you pulled me from the Empty is…it's nothing short of miraculous."

"You didn't have to keep that from us," says Sam gently. "We're not upset at you, Jack. We're proud."

But Jack doesn't smile. "That's not exactly the end of it."

Dean frowns. "'Cause that would be too easy."

"Jack?" says Sam.

He sighs and puts his hands out. "Okay, please don't freak out. It's only happened a handful of times—"

"I do not like where this is going," says Dean.

"—and so far, nothing that bad has happened."

"Just spit it out."

"There's these…voices…in my head," says Jack. Sam and Dean stare at him blankly.

"What like, prayers?" asks Sam.

"Well, those I hear too," says Jack. "But this is something different. At first it was a lot of voices, and then it was just one voice—my voice."

"You're hearing yourself?" says Dean.

"Just that one time," says Jack. "The strange thing is that whenever I hear this voice, it's like I black out. I don't know where I am. There's only…darkness."

"And what does this voice say?" asks Sam, looking worried.

"It tells me to wake up. To come find me. It offers me freedom—"

"Freedom?" says Dean sharply.

"I don't understand it," says Jack, staring into the distance. "I don't know what it wants or how it is contacting me. I have all of the power of God, but this voice it…it breaks through somehow. And it's…angry."

"What I don't understand," says Castiel, "is that, now that Billie is gone and Chuck is powerless, who could do this?"

"Or what," adds Sam. "Is there anything we can do?"

This time Jack does smile. He had been waiting for Sam to ask. "I don't have enough information," says Jack. "But I'll let you know when I know more."

Dean sits back in his chair and lets out a big breath of air. "Well, paradise was fun while it lasted," he says glumly.

"No," says Jack. "This is why I didn't want to tell you. You can still have your paradise. You don't have to get involved—"

"Jack," presses Dean. "You're family. And we don't abandon family—"

Jack feels it before it happens, like a tidal wave in the distance. This time is different. It doesn't swallow him without warning—this time it's like a creeping shadow. And the anger, he can feel it stronger than ever before, a desperation, almost like mania.

He turns to Castiel who is already fading before his eyes, the edges of his vision collapsing into darkness.

"Cass…" he breathes, "it's…it's here again…"

He hears his name being called, feels his body lose control. Someone grabs his arm, shaking him, but he is already fading. And then he sees no one and hears no one, and everything is darkness.

And then the voice—his voice—comes to him from the space of nothingness, like a scream of hatred, and he is afraid.

I OFFER YOU FREEDOM, AMARA, says the voice. RID YOURSELF OF THIS PRISON. COME TO ME. TO NOTHING. COME TO ME AND WE WILL RESTORE BALANCE.

Jack struggles, tries to wake himself up, but he has no body to move, no control of anything. And then, without understanding how, he hears himself responding.

I WILL.

And then it all comes rushing back. The sitting room, Sam and Dean and Castiel. And with reality comes a splitting pain across his face, like someone has slashed his skin, and something is dripping onto the carpet.

He is on his knees.

"Jack!"

As the darkness fades away, he blinks away beads of sweat that have fallen into his eyes. He is dazed, exhausted, like someone has given him a severe blow to the head. He puts a hand to his face and his fingers come away bloody.

"Jack!"

They move him onto a chair where he sits in a stupor. He looks blearily up at them, coughs a little, and says:

"I know. I know who the voice is and why it's calling to me." The pain across his face makes it hard to speak. Castiel's hand grips his shoulder firmly and it's like an anchor. "The voice," he whispers, "is the Empty. And it's calling to Amara."


Oooh the plot thickens! Stay tuned for more. Happy Holidays, everyone!