TITLE: Our Father, Who Art In

AUTHOR: Tiffany Park

STATUS: Complete

CATEGORY: Humor

SPOILERS: Oh, pretty much everything.

SEASON: Season Five

RATING: PG-13

CONTENT WARNINGS: Some mild profanity. Totally frivolous. Lots of very overused old jokes. Irreverent with a total lack of religious respect.

SUMMARY: The Heavenly Father returns! And He's not happy.

ARCHIVE: Please ask

DISCLAIMER: Supernatural and its characters are the property of the CW Television Network and a lot of other people and production companies that I don't know about. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

Our Father, Who Art In

by

Tiffany Park

The interior of an abandoned warehouse. Angels on one side. Demons on the other. All spoiling for the fight to end all fights.

All waiting for the final signal, the ultimate act that would, at last, draw the battle lines and initiate Armageddon, the end of the world.

All stymied by two stubborn human brothers.

"The time is now, Sam," Lucifer whispered into Sam's ear. "You've got to help me. We'll purify the world, make Our Father's creation perfect, the way it was meant to be. We'll stop my brothers and sisters from destroying everything, and we will rebuild Eden."

The archangel Michael loomed over Dean. "It is time, Dean. Be my Sword. We'll stop Lucifer once and for all. He betrayed us. He betrayed Our Father. He corrupts everything he touches. We must send him away, back to his Pit. Just like Our Father did. This is the way it must be."

Lucifer whispered to Sam, "Our Father doesn't understand us. He doesn't realize His children are all rebellious. He doesn't understand that they hate His youngest creation, that they are envious of the extra attention showered on the babies. But I understand. You understand. Look at them, the so-called Angels of the Lord. They are nothing but petty and jealous creatures, desirous of destroying the objects of Our Father's Love, so they can have it all for themselves."

Michael said to Dean, "Look at Lucifer. You know who he is. The Deceiver. The Prince of Lies. He must be stopped. At all costs, he must be stopped. Nothing else matters. He will corrupt this Earth, recreate it in his own image. A blasphemy beyond imagining. Do you want to live in Lucifer's vision of the world? Better it be destroyed. You and I, we can stop Lucifer. We can finish it. We can send him back to Hell. We can return this reality to its primordial clay, so Our Father can create anew."

Both human brothers still balked. The air crackled with celestial energy, waiting to be released in a final conflagration, yet both brothers still refused their pre-ordained roles. Angels and demons pressed forward, not yet daring to cross the line, waiting for permission, the final approval, from the only beings in the universe who could give it. From the ones both groups despised above all others.

Waiting for humans to make the final decision. Waiting for humans to signal their own world's doom.

Waiting, and all around them the air grew thicker, stormier, oppressive. It weighed down on Sam and Dean like a heavy, wet, woolen blanket, smothering, yet fiery and full of hot, choking ash. Weapons beyond human imagining were unsheathed, prepared for the ultimate bloodletting. Impossibly, the light darkened and brightened simultaneously.

And then...

"ENOUGH!" a mighty voice boomed. It shook the Earth, froze the violence out of the air. It rattled the warehouse to its very atoms. Chemical bonds shuddered as elemental forces hesitated to act according to the laws of physics, and for one horrifying instant, the whole universe slipped out of phase before reality snapped back in place.

The angels and demons froze, paralyzed with sudden terror and absolute knowing.

Sam and Dean also froze with terror, although without the knowing.

A door opened, and a small dog trotted into the room.

It wasn't much of a dog. Small, maybe weighing sixteen pounds at most. Mottled brown. Scruffy. Possibly a terrier mixed with pound puppy. A mutt. But it had beautiful, liquid brown eyes, a lovely tail that waved like a long-furred banner, and very sharp, white teeth.

Toenails clicking on the concrete with every step, it moved to the exact center of the cavernous room and stopped, waiting expectantly.

The angels and demons regarded it with trepidation.

Sam and Dean just stared at it.

It looked around at the actors in the cosmic drama, made a rude doggie noise, and then said in an authoritative tone, "Well? Does someone want to explain to Me just what exactly is going on here?"

There was a long, pregnant silence. Then the angels and demons started babbling all at once.

The cacophony was deafening. The angels and demons shifted to their native language, and their awesome voices rattled the building. Sam and Dean pressed their hands to their ears, praying they'd survive.

The dog snapped out, "Shut up! All of you!"

The catastrophic noise ceased. The dog said, "That's better. It's a good thing Castiel got hold of me, you stupid brats." Unnoticed, Castiel had slipped into the warehouse behind the dog and stood waiting on the sidelines. The angels and demons all glared at him, and he cringed ever so slightly.

"Traitor. You always were a tattletale," Zachariah jeered at him. "I told you not to--"

"Hey!" Dean protested, instinctively defending a friend. "You and your buddies all want to wipe out humanity and destroy the Earth. As far as I'm concerned, he did the right thing."

"You idiot!" Zachariah said. "Do you have any idea what he's done? You think things were bad before?"

"I don't know anything except that you take orders from a talking dog." Dean paused. "And could someone please tell me what's up with that? I mean, a talking dog? What is this, a cartoon?"

Looking horrified, Sam said, "Dean, I think maybe you'd better shut up."

"Listen to your brother, you fool," said Zachariah. "You have no idea--"

"I said, everyone shut up!" the dog ordered. "Zachariah, leave your brother alone. He did the right thing. Dean, you do as your brother says and maybe you'll learn something here." The dog gave everyone a hard look. "Now I want you all to explain yourselves. One at a time. Michael, you first."

Lucifer protested, "It's not fair that he gets to go first. This isn't my fault--"

"I said Michael goes first. You'll get your turn." Once again, reality shook. Lucifer subsided, grumbling like a sullen child.

The mighty archangel Michael looked humbled and timid. "Father," he began.

"Father?" Dean blurted out incredulously.

Sam whispered, "That's what I was trying to tell you." Dean stared at him, then at the dog. Dumbstruck at The Almighty God, The Lord of Hosts, The Creator of the Universe. Who was a small, unimpressive, brown mutt.

Michael continued, "Father, Lucifer decided to get out of Hell--"

"From what I understand, that was a group effort," said The Holy and Righteous One.

Michael stared down at his feet. "Um, yes, well, anyway, he was going to remake Earth and humanity..."

Lucifer said hotly, "I was going to make them better, like Father always wanted."

The Divine Most High bared his teeth and snarled. "Lucifer, wait your turn!"

Michael sneered at Lucifer and continued, "We had to stop him and make him go back to Hell."

"You always were a bully," Lucifer grumbled.

Michael snapped at him, "You shut up!"

"No, you shut up!"

The Almighty Lord shouted, "You both shut up!"

Both shut up.

"Michael," the High and Lofty One said in a very annoyed tone of voice, "it sounds to me like you just wanted an excuse to pick yet another fight with Lucifer."

Michael winced. "I wouldn't put it quite that way."

"I would. You're grounded for the next half-millennium. Go to your room and think about what you've done."

"Father--" Michael whined.

"Do I have to count to three? One, two..."

Michael disappeared in a flash of flame-tinged light.

"Oh, boy," Sam said worriedly.

Dean said, "No kidding."

"I wonder if we can take cover."

The Almighty Mutt answered him, "Nope. There's nowhere in the universe you can hide." He looked at the angels and demons. "That goes for all of you. Now, Lucifer, it's your turn. What dumb stunt were you pulling this time?"

Lucifer kicked at the floor. "I just wanted You to be proud of me."

"By remaking the Earth? How arrogant. You should have stayed where you were."

"At least I didn't want to destroy it like they did!" Lucifer pointed at his celestial siblings.

"And why would they want to do that?" The Father of Glory surveyed His not-so-angelic children.

"Because they were tired of babysitting Earth. They're a bunch of selfish, jealous quitters."

"What? Jealous? Of what?"

Zachariah jumped in. "Screw you, Lucifer. Father, why do You like humans better than us? We were Your children first!"

The Lord God Most High stared at him. "Is that what this is really all about?" His doggie lips turned down. "Hmmmm." He returned His attention to Lucifer. "So you only wanted to save humanity, is that it?" He said with patent disbelief.

Under that unwavering, holy attention, Lucifer slumped. "I was tired of Hell," he admitted. "You didn't have to ground me for so long."

"Obviously, I did, and this is exactly the reason I enforced it the way I did, too," said The Maker of All Things. "You were being a brat, and needed a time out. I see you haven't learned your lesson yet."

"But Hell--it's just not like home. It's a nasty Pit."

"Oh, so now you want to come home? Lucifer, you didn't like living under My roof, so I gave you your own place. At the time, I made it very clear that Hell was yours to do with as you pleased. It's not My fault you're living in a Pit."

"But Father--"

"Don't you 'But Father' Me. It's your place. You don't like it, clean it up. Redecorate. Whatever. This isn't rocket science, you know."

"Father--" Lucifer protested.

"Didn't you hear Me? I said, go clean your room! Now!"

Lucifer vanished.

The Everlasting Lord turned His doggie eyes on the rest, and they quailed. "I just don't know what to do with you. I go on one short little vacation--the first one since the Big Bang--and what do you rotten brats do? You start fighting--again!--and almost wreck My favorite diorama in the process! And all because you were lazy and jealous of humans? Unbelievable."

"Wait," Dean said. "Vacation? They said You'd abandoned them."

"Abandoned them? Give me a break!" The Supreme Being glared at the angels and demons. "Because I sure needed one. Do you have any idea how damn needy these brats can be? I've only been gone for two measly millennia." He scowled at His angelic and infernal children. "You were supposed to watch over your younger siblings, not fight among yourselves and wreck up the place. What's wrong with you? You shouldn't need constant attention at your age! For Heaven's sake, you'll be adults in another few eons!"

"Father, please don't be so angry--" Castiel said beseechingly, holding out his hands. Zachariah, Gabriel, and the other angels and demons all cowered behind him.

"Oh, no, not this time. Castiel, you're the only one I'm not mad at right now, but don't try My temper." The Divine Sovereign of Heaven's eyes again swept over the angels and demons. "I'll deal with the rest of you when I get home. Right now, I want all of you--" The Almighty's Angry Presence seemed to swell until He filled the entire building. He pointed a paw at His huddled children. "I want all of you to Go. To. Your. Rooms! NOW!"

The whole angelic pack vanished in a flash of brilliant white light. The demons disappeared just as fast in clouds of black smoke.

The God of All Grace huffed, turning away. "Teenagers," He said in tones dripping with parental aggravation. "What can you do?"

Dean silently mouthed to Sam, "Teenagers?" Sam shrugged, looking totally weirded out.

The Living God eyed Sam and Dean. "What a pain. I sure hope you humans don't act the same way when you get to be their age."

Feeling treed, Sam and Dean just nodded. "No, sir," they said in near perfect unison, then stared at each other.

The Fortress and Protector of Creation snorted in disbelief. He sat down, sneezed, then tilted His head and scratched His ear with a shaggy hind leg.

Dean worked up his courage and said, "That's it? No Apocalypse? No End Days? Nothing, nada, zip?"

The Judge of All the Earth just looked at him and said, "Don't tell Me you wanted the world to end?"

Sam jumped in. "No, that's not what he meant. We're grateful it didn't end--"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, grateful. Really grateful."

Sam continued: "It's just, all this buildup, and now..." He made a helpless gesture. "It just seems so...anticlimactic."

The Light of Nations managed to make His doggie shoulders shrug. "I like the Earth. I didn't want My kids to trash it just because their noses are out of joint with Me."

"Okay," said Sam. Apparently, that was all the explanation they were going to get.

"I also like you two, which is why I'm still talking to you. I'm pleased that at least some of My children have some common sense. It's just weird that it's the youngest ones." Exasperation covered The Ancient of Days' puppy-dog face. "The older ones just will not look after the babies properly. First the Watchers, now this. I just don't get it. Where did I go wrong?"

Sam and Dean prudently kept their mouths shut.

The Tower of Strength regarded Sam and Dean again, and said, "You two are to be commended for your steadfastness to My Purpose. Very few can say no to Michael and Lucifer, especially when under that much pressure."

Sam and Dean looked at each other. Dean opened his mouth to proclaim that they weren't interested in anyone's purpose but their own, but Sam knew him very well and kicked him into silence. Sam said instead, "Thank you."

"Hmmmm," said The Father of Mercies, not fooled in the least. "This is My reward for valuing Free Will. Oh, well."

Dean whispered to Sam, "God needs a reward?" Sam shushed him.

"You have something to say, Dean?" The Shepherd of Creation asked. His tail wagged.

Dean winced at that strange sight. Then he said, "Actually, I have a question."

The Majestic Glory said, "Just one?" He thought about it. "Okay, just one, since that's traditional. Shoot."

Sam mouthed, "Shoot?"

Dean plowed ahead. "Can You please tell me why You decided to come charging in here dressed up like a dog?"

"Dean!" Sam said, appalled.

"No, Sam. This is too weird. I wanna know."

The Eternal and Limitless Light said, "You humans do like to waste your one traditional question on ridiculous trivia. And you always take things so seriously. This is what you really want to know?"

Ignoring Sam's restraining hand and pleading expression, Dean pressed on, "Yeah, I really want to know. I mean, You're God, right? You can be anyone or anything You want to be. So why a dog?"

The Lord of Lords cocked His head and sighed. His little pink tongue lolled out one side of His mouth. "I just don't get it," He grumbled. "I know I gave humans a sense of humor when I created them. I'm sure I did. So what the Hell happened?"

"Um," said Sam, frowning in thought. His eyes widened suddenly, and his jaw dropped.

"Yes? And?" Dean said to The God of Might. "This means?"

The Great Architect of the Universe regarded the two humans before Him. "It means that the old jokes are still the best jokes."

"What?"

There was a blinding flash of light, the building shook, and the whole world shifted out of sync. Then everything settled back to normal. Sam and Dean were alone.

Dean shook both fists at the ceiling. "Just what was that supposed to mean? Dammit, answer the question!"

Sam said quietly, "Dean, He did."

"What?"

"Think about it. God. Dog."

Dean looked blank.

Sam sighed, understanding the Holy Spirit's frustration. "Dog spelled backwards is..." He pantomimed "this is obvious" with his hands and a comical facial expression.

Dean stared at him, and suddenly got it. He gaped like a landed carp. "Oh, God," he said.

- end -

November, 2009