Author's Notes: This is a 'verse, so the ficlets are all separate, not really chapters, I just thought it would be less messy to have them as one fic here. The 'verse is pretty light, sometimes almost crackish, with small dosages of angst sprinkled about.
Warnings for the 'Verse: mpreg, some language, and some implied things.
Pairings for the 'Verse: Sam/Lucifer/Adam/Michael and Dean/Cas

Title: Plans Within Plans
Summary: Chuck and Death have a talk.

"You know that sinking feeling when a plan backfires terribly?" Death quips from behind Him, not bothering to hide his amusement.

Chuck turns to shoot Death a nasty look. "How do you know this wasn't My plan?" He asks, crossing His arms defiantly.

Death arches an eyebrow at Him. "Your eldest sons and the two younger Winchester's have spent the last five decades using Your infamous Cage as the setting for their unending drunken orgy. I don't think You could say anything that will convince me that was Your plan."

"Okay, maybe not," Chuck frowns sullenly. "How is this even fair? I don't even want to save them anymore."

"Oh, please," Death looks slightly disgusted. "Of course You still want to save them. You also sound like a spoiled child. They are merely making the best of a bad situation."

Chuck snorts derisively. "That is not even – " He stops mid-setence, and a slow, plotting grin pulls at His lips. "Making the best of a bad situation," He repeats, sounding awed.

Death eyeballs Him warily. "I do not even want to know," he declares in a put-upon voice.

"Making the best of a bad situation!" Chuck repeats gleefully, bouncing on the balls of His feet, practically brimming with excitement. "Making the best of a bad situation!"

"Yes," Death agrees slowly. "So you said. Care to elaborate?"

Chuck cackles delightedly.

Death makes a pained face. "…really," he says disapprovingly, shaking his head.

"Just watch," Chuck tells him, staring into the Cage intently.

Death nearly chokes. "…you have got to be kidding me," he manages, honestly horrified.

Chuck smirks. "Nope," He answers brightly, popping the P. "It's been a very long while since anyone made Me a Grandfather, and after the horrifying things those four have forced me to witness recently, I ought to get something in return."

"Grandchildren," Death repeats stupidly. "Who will be Winchester's and angels. You honestly think this combination is a wise idea? …Am I seeing that right?"

"Twins," Chuck agrees, voice absolutely chipper. "See? I feel so much better now. I may even let them out in the near future."

Death rubs his forehead, trying to fathom what he's ever done to deserve this. "Two wouldn't have been bad enough. You had to aim higher. Four Winchester-angel hybrids. Didn't we just finish preventing an apocalypse? You're so eager for another already?"

Chuck pauses again. "Four grandchildren," He repeats, His tone verging on whining. "That's not good enough," He complains. Death's eyes widen in alarm. "I think I need to go have a talk with Castiel," Chuck declares, nodding to Himself. "Nice talk, Death. Pizza next weekend?" He offers.

"Someone kill me," is all Death manages, and Chuck doesn't bother replying to that with anything but a vastly amused grin before He disappears to find Castiel.