#Finale fix-it

[bobwess]

SPN Finale Fix-it Fic

Posted here in its entirety given the times. When we're back online, please find me at Bob Wess on ao3.

Jack watched Chuck fade out of view through the back window, breathing in a slow sigh of relief. They succeeded. He was done.

"And we're sure sure that he can't figure out how to get his power back?" Dean confirmed, glancing up in the rear view mirror. "I mean, he was God. He knows literally everything."

"He doesn't anymore." Jack said softly, leaning his head back against the seat and closing his eyes. "That much knowledge would kill him, he's human. He can't remember."

"You doing okay back there, kid?"

"Yeah." He replied weakly.

Dean kept his gaze for a moment before he just turned back to driving.

Sam glanced back, doing his best to mask his concern. "You get some rest, Jack. You did good back there."

"Thanks." Jack failed to mutter. Closing his eyes didn't help, but once he had he forgot how to open them. He had existed his whole life… just one moment in one place.

Right now he was everywhere. Like electricity, a thought and he could see it. Anywhere in the world. He checked in on Donna, Eileen, Bobby, Charlie... He peered through the bunker. He looked in the silo. He could do all that from the car speeding down the highway, one single path through the infinite multitudes.

It was an adjustment.

Chuck's memory was fathomless, and it was spreading like wildfire across his brain, unfolding eons in seconds, cataloging an eternity in the void balanced with Amara and Death before he took breath and birthed the warriors of his sister's confinement. Jack saw the moment the horsemen split. He saw the big bang. He saw the creation of angels, crafted from the supernovas of a chaotic forming universe. He watched countless worlds rise from sparks into empires and fade to dust. He found himself catching up to the present. He watched Sam and Dean's life from birth, not sure if the tears were only in his head when he watched a demon slit his wrist over Sam's crib. He watched John Winchester impart his discipline on them. He watched a knife in Sam's back and hellhounds at Dean's ankles. He felt a physical punch to the gut when Castiel laid a hand on Dean's shoulder in hell.

Dean Winchester is saved.

"That was when the connection broke." Jack thought he had said it out loud, but when no one in the car responded he realized he was mistaken. It was too much of an effort to speak up again.

He watched it again, once, twice. It made him feel physically nauseous. All of the unfathomed cosmos were perfectly in tune with Chuck, the small flicker of an angel's doubt was like a lightning bolt. Angels obeyed. That was all they knew how to do. They weren't like his archangels with their own intuitions, angels were merely an extension of him, programmed to follow orders.

"He wasn't pulling the strings." Jack tried to assure them, but again he realized he hadn't moved his lips. "Chuck wanted to see the story… he didn't want to write it. Not until the end. That was all you…"

He watched Ruby corrupt Sam in parallel to Dean's corruption of Cas.

Castiel wasn't the first angel to pull away from heaven, but he was the first one to be tainted with the soul of a righteous man rather than the temptations of sin. It was fascinating.

Chuck never knew which path Dean would take, but he knew where every possible path could lead. Not a single prediction saw Dean get into that church. Castiel had achieved the unachievable. Providence was subverted. A thousand new paths opened up and the cosmic rush was intoxicating.

He almost forgot to reach through and pull Dean out of that church before Lucifer stepped into the world and melted the flesh off his bones. Sam too, why not?

He spent simultaneously millenia and mere hours, riding the high of being confronted with the true unknown. He was disappointed when the puzzle pieces started sliding into place, the picture clearing. New paths were cemented; The story was different now, but he could see it again. The loss was impossible to set aside.

Raphael had smited Cas so thoroughly there wasn't even enough to scrape into the empty. This provided him with a unique opportunity. He could pull him back together. He was careful, taking care, hundreds of years within frozen time. He had to get it perfect, he could not risk losing the small shard of Dean's soul that severed his bond with fate.

When Cas came back. the paths blurred and when it was done these three improbable rebels had averted the certainty of the apocalypse. Once again as the earth sealed over and the dust settled, Chuck had found himself already craving the uncertainty of Castiel. He went to work rebuilding him again.

The dread Chuck felt when Dean took the mark competed with the thrill of seeing where that led, and suddenly he felt connected to Dean in a way he never had any human before. Reconciliation with his sister, a trip through the cosmic potential at the edges of interminable realities, and by his return the story of Earth had been turned on end.

Jack felt the wave of hatred for himself, and he imagined giving a weak smile at the emotional mess he'd have to sort through to reconcile that later. He turned his back, wishing to avoid reliving the pain and turmoil he himself caused from a whole new perspective. Chuck's omniscience seemed to flicker and fade after Sam's soul splintered into his shoulder anyway.

He rushed through to the end, desperate to catch up to the present in the diminishing hope that he'd be able to wrestle these memories under control. Time had been moving so fast at the start of… well, time itself. Now each second was painfully slow, and he aged centuries sorting through Chuck's analysis of every minute. "Sir, this is a radio shed."

Chuck was choking down on the reins, brushing right up against the his own applied limits to affect free will before finally tearing everything down in every reality but one. And then he began to deconstruct that.

Jack was distracted by feeling the pull of every soul as they were erased off the planet. An instant for any observer on earth, but each person one at a time for him.

He almost missed Cas and Dean run out of Death's library.

"When Jack was dying, I made a deal to save him.…"

Jack blinked back tears again, heart racing as he watched the scene continue.

The empty was tearing open. Cas tried to throw Dean to the side, but the hunter grabbed his arm, pulling Cas close and throwing his arms around him.

"Dean, please-" Cas shouted over the sounds of the slithering void reaching towards them. Jack could feel the second hand panic exploding out from both of them.

"I love you, Cas." Dean breathed, directly in Cas' ear. He arched involuntarily as he felt the ink touch his back, but he held on tight. His prayer was clear. You aren't going without me.

Jack felt Chuck himself invade the room, standing in the silence left behind, the violence of moments ago fading into absence, a world once again without Death, a world missing an impossible pair. And a wholly unsatisfying ending.

Jack felt another nauseating twist in his gut when he felt the idea blossom.

He'd just build another.

No.

It was easy, really.

Please no.

The memories continued, pushing through every attempt Jack made to slow them. His hands… the perverse hand of God, sewing together a human body, stuffing it with a hastily crafted approximation of a half finished soul. Cracked drywall smoothed over with reconstructed memories, edited to his liking. The story would be finished. He didn't rip everyone off this earth just to end it there.

Chuck left him on the floor, phone ringing on the ground, and a memory of staying silent while Cas was ripped from existence.

Jack tore his eyes open, gasping for air as he pulled himself out of it. He locked eyes with Dean in the mirror, and felt the shudder down his spine.

It wasn't Dean.

Dean was in the empty.

Dean was gone.

This isn't Dean.

"You sure you're okay?" Not Dean asked over his shoulder, suggesting to Jack his expressions had all been in his head.

"Yeah." He replied softly.

.

He didn't tell them.

The imposter was acting normal, and Sam was none the wiser, and with all of Jack's wisdom he didn't know what to do besides do nothing at all. He said his goodbyes and stepped out of time to think.

"You want to bring them back." Amara's voice wasn't accusing, but it wasn't necessarily approving either. "This is your idea of hands off?"

"I'm doing it."

"Interfering is what got Chuck in trouble in the first place."

"I'm not Chuck." Jack said firmly. "And I'm not leaving them there."

She looked across the bunker at the figure that couldn't see them. "What are you going to do about him?"

Jack closed his eyes. "I don't know."

"You know you won't be able to pull Dean out with that thing here."

"That thing is Dean… sort of."

"And that's the problem." Amara finished. "The soul can't exist in tandem like that. They'll consume each other as they try to merge."

"He doesn't have a soul." Jack said mournfully. "Not really."

"Close enough to cause problems."

"It's not fair anyway." Jack murmured. "To Sam…" Sam hadn't noticed yet, but Jack was counting the days. The new Dean was a bluff, a collection of memories and intent robust enough to ride out the last apocalypse to completion, but it was never meant to navigate the world any further. The seams were coming undone, and soon they would be without subtlety.

"I don't want Sam to know." Jack paused. "He shouldn't have to know how long his brother has been gone, or where.

"You're not going to be able to wait much longer."

"I'll figure it out." And he did.

Five inches.

The slightest adjustment, five inches to the left, letting a vampire and a poorly placed hook do the dirty work for him.

Jack kept his eyes on every corner of earth, heaven, hell, and purgatory to try to hide from tearful goodbyes from a whisper of his father. He blocked out Sam's despaired prayers, begging him to help.

I am helping. I can rescue him now.

Jack finally used the last spark of an imposter Dean's almost-soul to rip a hole into the nothingness beyond reality. He liked to think that this Dean had been Dean enough that he'd have willingly sacrificed himself for a chance to rescue his family from the Entity.

It was enough to steel himself for the task ahead.

With the presence of God and the audacity of a Winchester, he stepped through, and he wouldn't be leaving without his fathers.

---

Find me on ao3 (Bob Wess) when it's back, and if you are desperate for more fics right now, you can check out my fanfiction .net account. I've polished the fics before cross-posting to ao3, but they're all here.

[winchester-reload]

Hi Jackie, any suggestions for finale fix-it fic? I'm looking to diverge from my steady diet of Crackfic and Fluff into something a bit more *Cas quotes* "profound."

Oh, man. I've fallen a little (a lot) behind on fic recently. The only one I can think of atm is my own, but that's boring to rec. Anyone else have a few favorite suggestions for *profound* finale fix-it fics????? (for both me and anon, apparently!)

[imbiowaresbitch]

Wrap Your Hands Around Me

When Castiel rebuilt Dean after raising him from Perdition, he left traces of his grace behind to bind the scattered pieces of Dean’s soul together. Now he can feel it when Dean wields his angel blade, another piece of his grace. He was never prepared for the touch of Dean's hand against his very self. But he likes it very much. * The first time it happened, it was completely accidental. Castiel was low on juice, as Dean called it, and a demon got the drop on him as they investigated the supposedly empty warehouse, knocking his angel blade from his hands. It hit the concrete floor with a clatter and tumbled away. He could sense it, a displaced piece of his grace behind him and to his left, but he was too busy burning out the demon with the dregs of his strength to retrieve it.

As he climbed quickly to his feet and spun, looking for more demons, he saw Dean knocked sprawling right next to his blade. Dean was too good a hunter to pass up a perfectly serviceable weapon and scooped up Castiel's angel blade to dispatch the last demon. 

Castiel was not prepared to feel the touch of that competent, callused palm as though it were pressing intimately against his grace, and his knees buckled as a previously unknown pleasure threatened to swamp him. Dean immediately rushed to his side, dropping the blade in the process, and Castiel was able to recover his senses, passing off his weakness as being entirely due to the fight. 

Dean pulled him to his feet and clapped him on the shoulder, peering at him in concern. Castiel straightened, feeling the pull of his grace before him, only to realise with a shock it was Dean he was sensing. Infinitesimal pieces of Castiel's grace were scattered through Dean's body and positively hummed with tension. Castiel knew that he'd given part of himself to rebuild Dean after retrieving him from Hell, but this was the first time he'd felt such a resonance with him. He stared into Dean's soul, watching as his grace thrummed with energy, a steady pull that made him want to be closer. As he watched, Dean's soul brightened, warm and welcoming, even as Dean nervously licked his lips and his green eyes dropped to Castiel's mouth.

Castiel felt an unfamiliar swell of desire, and he stepped closer. Personal space, a small voice inside him warned, but Dean's soul called to him like his very own siren, promising everything he could ever want. "Cas?" Dean asked softly, his breath coming faster. His cheeks were flushed with exertion from the fight, his eyes wide and dark.

The slam of a door snapped Dean's head around, and Castiel shook his head, breaking the strange tension between them. He stepped past Dean to stoop and collect his blade. Tucking it away into the ether where his wings stayed when he wasn't flying, Castiel straightened his shoulders.

"We need to keep moving." *** Read the rest on AO3. Timestamp written and will be posted soon. Thanks to @nickelkeep for the beta!

[urne-buriall]

on this day of spn finale kvetching, might I remind you that Dean's heaven is full of shit and someone had to fix it

[hansoeii]

let time pass.

[clown-owo]

been replaying the Portal series I think this is where its heading

[unpretty]

the thing about having been really broke. averaging $500 a month in a good year broke. using a gamestop credit card i shouldn't have qualified for to buy taco bell gift cards for food broke. is that i am SO bad with money. i have a degree in accounting and i am so bad with money. i do not think of myself as superstitious at all but money feels so cursed. not in a spiritual way, i mean literally. practically.

having 'too much' money feels so bad. money is a thing you spend as soon as you get it because it's so cursed. the more it is the more cursed it is. i save too much money and bad things will happen that cost all my money. money is a thing that summons expenses. if i have no money and the car breaks down i find a way to make it work. i scrounge and resell and pass the hat and talk to my mom's friend's friend who knows a guy and in the end i'm so relieved to be right back where i started. but if i were saving my money for a new computer and then the car broke down, the money is just gone. i spent the money i saved for a thing i wanted on a thing i needed instead and after all that hoping i'm right back where i started.

i get a windfall and i set the money aside because if i'm careful that's enough to pay for gas for months. but then i need to pay for heat and i apply for assistance and they look at my bank account and see i have money and now they won't help pay for heat. soon it's just a habit. i get the money and i spend the money. immediately, as soon as possible, get this money away from me. don't even save enough for cigarettes. i can find money for cigarettes, somehow i can always find money for cigarettes. cigarette money is a weird magical fake money i summon from dark corners whenever i run out of cigarettes. i don't know how it works either. i've tried to summon the cigarette money for things that aren't cigarettes and it never works. just get this out of my bank account. get it out of here before something notices there's money here.

anyway i'm working on it but god it's hard

[egophiliac]

don't think I'm not still deep in the episode 7 brainrot. because OH BOY AM I

(also one more extremely, obnoxiously self-referential thing, I'm -- I'm so sorry)

[ssseriema]

releasing the docmaid from the @mcyt-trios propaganda now that lifesteal finale is REAL!!!! YAY

[fruit-sy]

Genius Society 🤓🤓

Just the dudes by themselves below bc why not lol

[i-like-to-look-at-your-back]

Sleeping off

[sailorsallyart]

and there is happiness

[lovetositinsilence]

you’ll make it back

[johnnyutah]

[valentimmy]

sephora at the grocery store 🔥🔥🔥

[bet-on-me-13]

Wes ruins everything

Wes had finally done it, he had finally realized why nobody ever belived him about Fenton and Phantom! It made so much sense now, he had been looking for an answer for years, thinking he was going crazy because everybody refused to see the Obvious!

He was Cursed!

He literally had an Ancestoral Curse on his Bloodline that made it so that all those born with the gift of Prophecy would be ignored! A Gift of Prophecy that he apparently had.

It was Cassandra's Curse, the one from Greek Myths. Apparently she was his Great×1000 Grandmother and passed down the Gift (and Curse) of Prophecy to him. And he knew how to break it!

All he needed to do was gather the right resources, chant the correct incantations, make sure not to accidentally summon a Demon in the process, and he could just foist the Curse onto some other poor schmuck. Sure it would suck for them, and he would loose his Gift of Prophecy, but Wes had been ignored for Years at this point, he needed validation!

So he did the Ritual, and he didn't mess it up, and he managed to get rid of the Curse.

Now all he had to do was convince everybody that he was right for the first time in his life! This was going to be great!

...

Cass didn't know what was going on.

A while ago, she had started getting these...gut feelings that she couldn't explain.

She would look over the details of a Case her Family was working on, and see a patern that the others were seemingly ignoring. Like when she realized that The Penguin was about to raid the Docks on the East Side, but the others were convinced it was going to be on the West.

But when she had tried to tell them, they had brushed her off. "We've already concluded that he will begin the Raid on the West side, no need to go to the East."

She had gone anyways, and low and behold she had been right. But nobody even acknowledged that she had been right at all, they had just wondered how they had missed the signs, not even questioning how she had known.

It wasn't limited to Cases either. Even small things, like telling her brother's where the TV remote was were brushed off, and hours later they would still be looking, never even having checked where she told them.

It seemed that no matter what, nobody cared about her point of view anymore. They kept brushing her off, telling her she was wrong, actively ignoring her ideas.

And it was getting worse. They were starting to ignore her more and more, forgetting she was in the room, not calling her down for Dinner, even forgetting to check in on her during Patrol.

She knew that there must be something going on, Magical or otherwise, but when she tried bringing it up with her Dad or JLD, they would also Brush her off.

Her Family was forgetting her. And they didn't even realize it.

...

Danny was not okay at the moment.

When he had gone to school a few weeks ago and noticed everybody staring at him, he didn't give it much thought. Maybe Dash or Paulina had spread another Rumor about him again, not too out of the ordinary.

When his name had been called over the Intercom, he hadn't thought much of that either. His grades were falling even more than usual, so he assumed his Guidance Counselor wanted to have another talk with him.

When he walked into the Principals Office to see both of his Parents and some GIW Agents, that's when he realized something big must have happened.

He didn't have much of a chance to react when the Shields went up, but he did react when the first Ecto-Blast scorched the wall behind him. His Parents began to scream at him as they fired their Blasters, something about replacing somebody? He didn't know, he was pretty preoccupied at the moment.

It took more effort than he cared to admit to escape the Room, but a stray shot to the hidden Shield Projector under the Principals Desk proved to be his saving grace. Unfortunately the moment he escaped the Office, he was met with a veritable Army of GIW Agents, all armed to the Teeth with Weapons he had never even seen before.

He managed to get away for a moment, hiding in the Bathroom as the Agents chasing him passed it by. That's when he met Wes.

He obviously hadn't been expecting him, but the moment he saw him Wes put on a smug look. "Oh hi Fenton, trying to get away from the other students?"

Danny had replied with confusion, "What the hell are you talking about?!"

"I finally managed to convince everybody about you, now everyone knows that you're Phantom! I'll bet you're hiding from all of the other Students hounding you for questions right?"

"...it was you?"

"Yeah, so? I finally get to be right!"

"...You absolute MORON-"

That was the last Danny got to say to Wes before an Ecto-Blast launched him through a Wall, seeing his face morph into a look of Shock just before the dust cloud covered it up.

Since that day, Danny had been on the Run. Nowhere was safe anymore now that the GIW knew both his Human and Ghost's faces, but he had to keep running. He crossed state Lines already, and was on his way to the next Ecto-Rich City he could sense, somewhere in New Jersey.

He cursed his Fenton Luck every day. Why had everybody believed Wes this time?! Nobody had ever belived him before, nobody even seemed to acknowledge his existence after a while! What had changed?

Danny just wanted to rest already.

...

Cass had taken to Patrolling alone recently. She had taken to doing a lot of things alone, actually.

After the first month, it seemed that nobody could remember that she was in the room with them, even if she was within their eyeline, she just faded into the background. By the 2 Month Mark they had stopped talking to her entirely, although occasionally she would get a Text or two from her dad. By the 3 month Mark she was completely invisible, and By the 5th she had been forced to get used to it.

She didn't know what was going on, was it a Meta Ability? Magic? Alien Tech? She had no idea.

She had begun to cook for herself after the first time Alfred forgot to set her Plate at the Table. The same with Washing her own Clothes, Cleaning her Room, and Paying her Phone Bills. At the very least the Automated Allowance Payments to her Account had kept up, or she wouldn't have been able to go to her favorite Cafe anymore.

It was bittersweet for her. She used to go to that Cafe every week with Alfred, but he didn't even come on his own anymore. Had he only come for her? Did she really mean that much to them? It hurt, she finally had a family that cared for her and suddenly she didn't exist to them.

She sat alone at a Table, ignored by everyone in the Cafe as usual, when a new face walked in. He looked about her age, a little roughed up, walking with a sort of cautious gaint, as if he was scared of something. His Body Language seemed to agree with her assessment, as his body practically screamed "Worry" in its movements.

Cass stopped watching at that point. Just another Gotham Teen, probably worried over something like getting not having enough money or getting mugged on the way home. It was a Common sight in Gotham.

She attention was pricked again for a moment when she heard a voice speak up. "Uh, can I sit here?"

She ignored it, he wasn't talking to her.

"Um, excuse me? Miss? Could I sit here?" He repeated.

She ignored him again, he wasn't talking to her. Nobody talked to her.

"Hello? Do you have Earbuds in?" He said, and he waved his hand in front of her face.

Her face. He waved his hand. In front of Her Face.

He was talking to her.

She looked up at him sharply, seeming to startle him for a moment before he asked, "So, is that a no?"

"You can see me?" She asked.

He looked a bit bewildered, but replied "Uh, yeah? Why would I not? Are you...a Ghost?". That last part sounded a bit suspicious.

"No. Not a Ghost. But nobody sees me. Ever. Nobody remembers me." She replied. She had never spoken this much to anybody outside of her Family, but in the past few weeks she had been starved for interaction.

He seemed slightly interested, and sat down at her table. He looked her in the eyes, and said "Do you...talk about it?"

She smiled. He could see her.