Being a writer is hard

Harder than most assume, and harder for most to completely understand. You would think translating electrical signals in the brain into words on blinking piece of digital paper would be fairly easy, especially if you think as much as I do. In fact, you'd think it would be easier for me because I just write what I see. Literally. In my head. Seeing the boys and their adventures, getting into their heads, you'd think it would be easy. It's not like I'm making it up as I go, like 99% of the other writer's in this world.

Before you cock your head and give me a look, I swear I'm not. I'm not dictating what Dean and Sam do. Never have and never will. My role in this story is simply to relay it. Yeah, I know, "My Big Plan," and all, but I'm not pulling the strings anymore. I'm simply here to relay it because I did not trust anyone else with this story. I know, Metatron is my Scribe, but….well.

For an angel that is God's Scribe, he has terrible grasp of grammar, and basic story-telling. I mean, there's a reason the tablets are so difficult to decipher, and it's not just because I was speaking in poetic riddles at the time. The Winchester's Story is too important for a scribe like him to mistranslate. I also couldn't trust any human to write down my words accurately. I've seen the versions of the Bible on sale, and I've got to say that I'm actually not that big of manic asshole. Yes, I believe in tough love, and yes, I let bad things happen to good people and vice versa, but I'm not an uncaring parent.

That's why I came back to Earth, why I left Heaven. I left my angels to guard this world, and they did a decent job for a very long time, but then the time came for Sam and Dean. The siblings that Michael and Lucifer would use to begin and end the Apocalypse, were finally born.

I like Sam and Dean. If you go back through the older novels, I know what it looks like. That I'm a cruel writer putting these boys through Hell just for pity points and readership. However, that was not my intention. I simply wrote down what they did, because it needed to be recorded for posterity. I did not really intervene in the story, either. Well, not exactly. There was that creep that Dean was chasing during the hunt where they thought a priest's ghost was an angel. That "miracle" was me. That guy was more than likely going to get away, and I could not let that happen. Okay, I did not want to let that happen because I wanted to give Dean hope. Their lives were about to start circling the drain, and I wanted him to see that, well, there were those who would look out for him, for them. Sam had faith, and it made me smile. Dean did not, but that did not mean he did not deserve my Love. All of my Children are loved. Yes, even Lucifer. Spoiled brat though he may be.

Meeting Sam and Dean was…overwhelming for me. Yeah, I know. "Stop being melodramatic, Chuck, you're God." Just, hear me out, though. What if you had spent years writing down the stories of these two brothers, who literally went to Hell for each other, who fought for each other, who only had each other? What if those characters suddenly showed up on your doorstep? I was….surprised. Spending so much time on Earth apparently made me easier to startle, because I was shocked to see them there. Do you know that I wanted nothing more than give them a hug, and give them words of encouragement? The road ahead would be rocky, sometimes even impassable, but there was always a path to take. Well, I couldn't because I had to stay in character, in disguise. The whole story would be ruined if I suddenly started dictating things like the real me would. The Me of the Past, the one who had not lived in a human's shoes for a few centuries.

When Castiel showed up, unexpectedly, I had to concentrate a lot to make sure I did not speak in the True Voice, or that Dean's amulet did not start glowing. Castiel was in pain, he was rebelling, and I could do nothing to help him. He was trying to muddle through, and I wanted to hug him. I know, I'm a sucker for hugs. But I was so proud of him. He was starting to get it. Castiel, the lone angel, the one angel I never heard once call my human children a derogatory name. In fact, he loved humans as the works of art that they were. He loved them for their imperfections, for their flaws, for who they truly were. He loved Sam and Dean, he would even stand against Lucifer for them when the time was right.

Lucifer never understood my love for humans. No angels truly did. Even Joshua, my only true friend left in Heaven, loved them because I told him too, not because it was something he just did. Lucifer did have points, though. Humans were dangerous, to themselves and to others. They could be monsters worse than any vampire or vengeful ghost—unfortunately there's a reason demons are so powerful. However, the opposite was true, though, just the same. Humans could show more compassion and love than any angel, more loyalty and determination that is unfathomable to my angelic children. That is why I love them so much. True, they are imperfect, but it's the flaws that make them so beautiful to behold.

I played my part as a prophet, and everything was fine. I stayed hidden in plain sight, and then the true test was thrust upon them. The Apocalypse had started, and Lucifer was walking the Earth. I knew Sam and Dean were not just in a fight to save the world, they were in a fight to save themselves. After Raphael smited Castiel, I had to wait a while to resurrect him without my son catching me.

Raphael, if you ever read this, I did in fact think it was funny that you, the Archangel that was so convinced I was dead, had been guarding Me for weeks. Funny how life works like that. If you hadn't been so certain, you might have caught on sooner, but I digress.

Sam and Dean needed all the help they could afford. Though I swore I would not interfere (and I really didn't—putting them on that plane and bringing back Cas wasn't really interfering. I feel it's more like throwing a foul ball back into ball so the game can continue), it was hard not to want to help. But there was a plan. Not the Plan I of the past would have appreciated, and thus not one my Angelic children wanted to hear, but there was a plan. I hoped, really and truly hoped, that I could show the angels that free will was a beautiful thing. That love freely given was more powerful that love commanded. That power used for compassion was more potent that any demon's deal. Free will was the final stage of evolution for the Host, but they would never understand that if I just said it. They would follow the word simply because I spoke, not because they believed the words true.

So, I made a plan, hoping it would change the one I had created previously. I was no longer the angry Father my sons remembered. Time spent among my creations tempered me a bit, it seems. So, I hoped that by making Sam and Dean so similar to Michael and Lucifer I got my son's attention. I hoped the vessels would change their minds. If they saw that Sam and Dean could go through Hell and still forgive each other, love each other, than so it could be in Heaven, too.

So, the boys fought. They fought Heaven, they fought Hell, they fought each other. Castiel looked for me, and it almost broke my heart. I wanted to stroke his cheek warmly and look into his eyes, into those blue galaxies he had for eyes, and show him I was alive. Show him that I did, in fact, care, yet I couldn't . This test was as hard for me as it was for them. No one understands that! You really think I wanted to let this mess get so out of hand? Of course not! But, tough love was the only thing that would make this story happen, and so I had to play my part as the uncaring God. Even told Joshua to tell the boys when they visited Heaven that they were on their own.

[Have to give credit to Castiel, an angel on a bender is unfortunately hilarious, adorable, and terrifying. Also, I will admit, having a human body was perfect for my next action. Never, EVER, EVER, tell anyone this, but I actually had their names, and "Team Free Will" tattooed across my shoulders. I know, I can see you laughing.

God with a tattoo of the Winchesters?

Well, sorry, Becky, but I'm sort of of the boy's number 1 fan.]

Anyways, they fought, they kicked and screamed and almost gave in but didn't. Even with Zachariah pulling out all the angelic mojo to convince to say yes, they never did. (Never thought I'd say this but Zachariah was more terrifying than Lucifer when it came to manipulation. I was starting to think I put the wrong Angel in the Pit. I am not above admitting that I cheered and toasted Dean on a job well done when he killed Zach. I was really starting to dislike him.)

Gabriel suddenly showed back up. I knew he'd been hiding on Earth, but as the god Loki? That was both clever and, once explained, too easy to see through. He loved pranks, loved his brothers. Seeing Lucifer stab him, cry over him…it was heart-wrenching. I'm glad Gabriel was able to get away, though. Lucifer might have taught him all of his own tricks, but he had not lived as a god for several millennia. I'm sure Gabriel will show back up somewhere, at some point.

Sam, Dean, Castiel, Bobby. The Winchesters passed with flying colors, they saved the world. Unfortunately, my sons were still stubborn fools, so the ending was not as happy as it could have been. Sam dragged Lucifer, Michael, and Adam into the Pit, leaving a broken Dean behind. The Winchester boys (Adam included) had saved the world, yet I was still saddened. The story was done, though. My time of work was done, and it was now time to let the world go on the path it would make itself, without me there to guide it. That was the plan, except….

Well, I'm not exactly one for stagnant planning. One has to adapt to new changes and developments. It's what writers do.

I resurrected Castiel. I gave him the power of an Archangel-just not the title of one since none of them were actually dead. He healed Dean, brought back Bobby. When he managed to quell the civil war brewing in Heaven, he actually formed a friendship with Crowley, the new King of Hell. That was an interesting side effect I was not expecting. Together, they made sure all the spheres kept spinning in the right direction. I knew there was a reason I like Castiel, and I actually feel good if I leave this planet with him in charge of the Host.

Sam was brought back. I left him in the pit for a while because I hoped that Lucifer and Michael, with nothing to do except deal with the pain and betrayal they been harboring for centuries, would work things out. Maybe with Sam's help as an arbiter or at least as an example that loves trumps all. He understood love, forgiveness, and redemption better than most. They may or may not; archangels are stubborn like that. Unbeknownst to them though, if they do, Lucifer's door will open, and they'll be free. Love is the only thing that pops the latch from the inside. So, if Lucifer and Michael work things out, they can leave their time-out corner. Though I suspect, if the door does happen, it will be for Lucifer pining over Sam. That boy certainly has a sway over angels. Lucifer, Gabriel, even Castiel to a point seem to like him more than just friendly camaraderie.

Dean will be happy with Sam, and unfortunately no one else will make Dean quite as happy as his brother will. I liked Lisa and Ben very well, but Dean's stubborn. Maybe If I send him a card that says "Dean, pull your head out of your ass and kiss Castiel already.—God" he'll listen to it?

Probably not. Still, if Castiel ever asked, I might intervene once more for that particular magic to happen. I mean, I was the one who had to write all those long stare into the books, remember? I was the one who had to watch them over and over again in my head—and this wasn't some part of the big plan either. Dean and Cas hit it off without me lifting a finger. So, if anyone's invested in them finally doing something, it's Me.

So, there you go. I hoped this might help people understand some things. Though the story I wanted to tell is over, I might stick around a while longer. Sam and Dean make things interesting around here, and I love them to death. Even when they're threatening to kill me, and give me killer headaches and heartaches. Part of me wants to tell the truth of who I am just to get a rise out of them, but that seems a little…petty for God don't you think?

AN: So, I hoped you like this! It's basically my headcanon on what Chuck is up to during Supernatural seasons 4-5. The end is canon-divergent so I could use the wiggle room later for other fic ideas! Anyways, I hope you enjoy it :)