Chapter Text
Castiel was not afraid that Dean would fail, which had come as a mild surprise given the circ*mstances. When Castiel saw Jack, as ill as his son looked, Castiel felt victorious.
When Jack was finished being sick, Castiel wrapped him in his arms but his eyes looked to Dean. Dean looked less elated than the circ*mstances justified, in Castiel’s opinion. They found a way to save Jack without losing anyone important, and that blessing was worth its weight in gold.
Jack was trembling.
“You’ll be alright,” Castiel said.
“Gabriel won’t,” Jack replied dully. “Neither will Crowley.”
Dean winced. Castiel released Jack and turned to where Gadreel was standing in Claire’s body. Words weren’t necessary. Claire’s eyes lit up for a second, and she came to. Jack shied away from Castiel.
“I need to talk to Amara,” Jack said. “She’s hidden my mother from heaven.”
Amara appeared.
“She’s still safe,” Amara said. “She’s asleep in a tree in purgatory. Nothing can touch her. I’ll retrieve her when the time comes.”
Jack slumped in relief, and Castiel felt similarly. They agreed to leave Kelly until Naomi could be handled. In exactly one hour, Amara would return to heaven with Jack to handle the next step in all this. Jack was to eat something and settle down beforehand. Truthfully, Castiel didn’t like that his son had this burden at all. He’d rather summon Naomi and tear her apart himself, if more mournfully than he did to Raphael. That look on Jack’s face, the look of a young man burdened by scorning another in the worst of circ*mstances because it had to be done, was a look that Castiel had long grown out of. But Amara was right; they needed to keep this in heaven now that Jack would be back to his full force.
There was much fussing after that, especially from Sam. Rowena made a quiet exit. John’s presence was quiet too. John was clearly still put out that Mary was cross with him, but he had Castiel’s respect for being willing to do whatever was necessary to keep Castiel’s family alive. Castiel nodded his head, and John nodded back before he walked away as well.
Jack was still shaken up, so Sam told him to let them worry about Naomi for a bit. They’d figure out a safe way to do this. Soon, the kids were with Mary in the Dean Cave, speaking quietly over a cartoon. Jack shooed Castiel off when he had tried to talk with him, and Castiel forgave him for his rotten attitude.
Except for John, the rest of the adults had taken the opposite corner of the room to discuss what would come next. As reluctant as Castiel was to leave Jack’s side, he knew that Jack wasn’t the only one shaken by what had happened. Castiel followed his partner into his safe haven, the kitchen, and waited for him to speak.
“We’re alright,” Dean finally said. “We can handle Naomi next.”
“Yes we can,” Castiel smiled.
“This is a quick recipe Sam would approve of. I’m not even hungry, but I figured I need to do something,” Dean said as he began chopping garlic.
“I’m not hungry either,” Castiel replied. “But once the adrenaline wears off, I’m sure everyone will appreciate how you keep us all going.”
Dean nodded and didn’t say much for a bit. Castiel tried to remain patient.
“I don’t like what we did,” Dean admitted. “It had to be done, but I didn’t like that Jack had to see me do it either.”
“He’s just shaken up,” Castiel dismissed. “He won’t hold it against you.”
“Yeah,” Dean sighed. “I might though.”
“Will you hold it against me?” Castiel asked, co*cking his head to the side and settling into a chair at the dining table.
Dean spun around and glared at Castiel fiercely.
“No,” he said slowly. “We aren’t doing that anymore, if we can help it.”
“What are we doing then?” Castiel asked.
“We’re sticking together,” Dean said. “We made a tough call, but we made it together. We protected Jack. We protected our family, heaven. We didn’t make the perfect call, but we made the right call. That’s what matters at the end of the day.”
“I agree,” Castiel nodded.
“I’m not happy now,” Dean admitted. “Now is not one of our top ten experiences together, but I love you.”
“I love you too,” Castiel grinned in the way that usually made Dean's neck blush.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Dean said. “I’m not in the mood.”
“Like what?” Castiel asked, continuing to smirk.
“Like you’re getting your appetite back,” Dean looked away. “This isn’t over yet.”
“It’s never over,” Castiel whispered. “I think I had a hard time accepting that until recently, but it’s not the end. That means loose ends and problems. That means grief and bad days.”
Castiel walked over, pecked Dean on the lips and sat back down with a high level of deliberation. Dean finally cracked a smile.
“You’re a menace,” he laughed.
“And yet, you’re sticking with me,” Castiel smirked.
Rowena was devastated, that Sam was certain of. But he couldn’t help her now, especially when John and Dean were doing a crappy job at stepping up to organize everyone. As was typical, they seemed to blend into the background when it came to dealing with organizing a larger group than four people.
That left Sam and Eileen to work with his suspiciously quiet mother and Bobby. They were trying to figure out how they could get Jack some better backup than merely Gadreel, but it was a tricky mission considering the timeline they were working on. Their quiet discussion would occasionally cause Jack to stiffen up, and not for the first time, Sam felt a pang of frustration for being forced into a nurturing role that he really was not the best at. He could play at it, but it was something intentional that he had to put on. Without careful restraint and intentional softness, Sam was all sorts of broken and wrong underneath the costume he wore.
He shook that line of thinking off.
Sure, Sam was the kind of person who would bring his possibly pregnant girlfriend (?) into a life-or-death fight, but he was good for stepping up when it mattered. Whenever Dean couldn’t handle mother-henning without getting too attached, or John failed to live up to his own standards of what a strong man should be.
Dean and had rushed off to the kitchen to go be a super masculine man with Cas, apparently. Meanwhile, Jack was as shell-shocked as they come. Everyone was here, but there was so little to do at this point. Bobby seemed uncomfortable with it, along with the plan to send Jack up to heaven with Amara alone.
They had to focus on getting Jack into fighting shape ASAP. Claire was taking point on watching over Jack ever since he had seemed to recoil from Cas and Sam. Sam had quickly realized (okay, maybe he only realized when Eileen pointed it out) that hovering over Jack was making him less grounded, not more. They didn’t have time to deal with the trauma properly, Eileen had told him, just enough time to distract him enough to get through the rest of what was becoming an extremely long day.
Claire was being gentler than Sam ever could have imagined her being in kinder circ*mstances.
“I don’t like what happened,” Jack said.
“Tough,” her words were harsh but her tone kind. “Just breathe for a minute and look at the talking dog. You have time to relax for a few minutes.”
Sam tried to avoid feeling jealous of Claire; her abilities, opportunities and bravery. It was not for the first time. He could be selfish like that sometimes; it was okay if it was just in his own head.
The seconds ticked by, and Dean finally returned with soup. It was made of lentils, but Sam didn’t have the energy to poke fun at him about it.
“Not hungry,” Jack said.
Cas threatened to call Amara to tell Kelly, and Jack almost relented. Almost. He was staring off into the distance again. Sam didn’t know what to do, and Mary snapped at everyone to quit crowding him.
Then, for the first time in a very long time, Sam felt a rush of gratitude when he saw John peek his head in the doorway. John looked like all the other adults in the room: like he was itching to do something to fix the situation, but had no clue how.
“Jack, don’t you want to eat with grandpa? You two can go in the kitchen,” Sam blurted out before he could think too hard about his word choice or why he was even encouraging this. Really, he should be leaving John to lick his wounds after Dean’s most recent scene.
Sam knew John like he knew himself, and he knew John was on a hair-trigger right now. Things hadn’t gone along with John’s original plan, and neither Dean or Mary were up for comforting him this time. Sam shouldn’t trust John with Jack right now, and judging by Dean’s face, his brother agreed.
Maybe Sam loved his dad in some deep pit within him. But if Sam wanted to get through life, he needed to bury that part of himself deep under the facade; just like he buried the part of him that was broken when the world needed Sam to be a better man than his father. He shouldn’t be blinded by the little kid in Sam who still wanted John to be there for the people Sam loved when Sam didn’t know what to do.
“Sam’s right,” Eileen said as Dean opened his big stupid mouth to intervene. “Go get some quiet.”
Dean rolled his eyes and Cas seemed to be putting all his effort into not looking like a kicked puppy. Jack nodded and followed John. He brought his soup with him, which seemed like a good sign.
“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Mary asked.
“Whatever the kid wants right now is fine,” Dean snapped. “If he wants quiet, he can get some.”
“I hate to say it, but John’s company is better than being alone right now,” Claire added.
Cas said nothing. Sam straightened his posture. He took a breath and sighed it out.
“I was waiting for the right moment to mention this anyways,” Sam directed his words at Bobby but acutely felt the pressure of the whole room before him. “We could try to get to heaven as his backup, bringing the Scythe. It’s not like we haven’t been to heaven before. I know Jack will be against it, but we could also consider asking Gadreel for help getting in.”
“Heaven is going to be completely unstable with Jack in his state and Naomi seizing control,” Bobby said.
“That’s never stopped us,” Cas pointed out.
“I guess not,” Bobby shrugged. “But if we all die, I’ll be haunting you boys again.”
John wasn’t sure why Jack got pawned off to him, but he decided not to question it when Jack rushed to follow John out. Clearly, the kid needed some space from his usual parental figures.
“Eat,” John said once they got settled at the kitchen table. He decided to be a good example and get himself a bowl of the vegetable (?) soup that Dean had made, no matter how unappetizing the brown sludge looked. It smelled fine, and John had eaten far worse in far better circ*mstances.
“I don’t need food,” Jack said.
“You just puked your cosmically-altered guts out and nearly lost your God-powers in the Empty,” John countered.
“And what were you doing during all that?” Jack demanded.
Good question. John was busy making a contingency plan that involved killing the kid’s dad. In the end, he was glad that his efforts went to waste, but he doubted that would give Jack much comfort at the moment. John just grunted and had some of the soup. It was good, and John really didn't have the patience for melodrama right now.
“You’re going back to heaven very soon,” John said. “If you don’t eat, if you don’t do your best to take care of yourself now, then it’ll be on you when things go wrong.”
A little fear of failure never hurt nobody when the rubber hit the road. Jack ate, but he glared at John something fierce. Seeing any sign of Jack’s spark warmed up the coldness inside him that had settled ever since Mary had admitted that he couldn’t love John when he was doing the hard things. Jack’s childish rage was like Mary- actually no, it was like Dean. It was like Dean and Mary. John's head spun with the threads that connected all of them. When Mary was gone, John spent so much time disgusted by the parts of Dean that reminded him of her. It was just a fact of the pit of despair he was in at the time. Really, he should have seen Dean's similarities with his mother as a part of her legacy to cherish. Shoulda was a loser word, except when it helped John do better for the following generation.
Comparing Jack to his many influences was hard. Everyone seemed to think the kid was a carbon copy of themselves, and as humble as they tried to appear about it, that was a function of ego. Jack was like the ink-blot that everyone projected their interpretations of onto. John was often afraid that Jack’s tendency to copy and mimic (as endearing as it was) would stop him from being his own person. He still sometimes found himself wondering if there was anything to Jack under it all, or if it was just empty space.
Maybe that’s why John and Jack could get along with each other during times like this: John didn’t have an expectation that Jack would be like him, because a part of John (that he didn’t like to fess up to) still thought the kid was a nobody underneath it all.
You’d think that after all their bonding time and pep talks, John would see him differently. Sure, John felt extremely protective of Jack and even liked the kid’s company, but John was stone. Yes, you could carve him, and he could erode. With enough pressure and heat he could reshape himself in a new image. However, John’s core was the same.
“What are you thinking about?” Jack asked suddenly, seemingly forgetting both his annoyance and alleged lack of hunger. John took the opportunity to refill the kid’s empty bowl. The fact that he didn’t have to face Jack when answering was just a bonus.
“I’m thinking about what it means for so many of us humans to be stone,” John said. “And what it means to be your own person independent from your many influences. Not ‘you,’ in a general sense, but you specifically, Jack.”
Silence. When John turned around and pushed the bowl in front of Jack, he was happy to see the expression that Jack had taken from Dean like a vulture: dropped jaw, wide eyes, gaping like a fish.
With some mild alarm, John realized that this expression on Jack’s face would have pushed John’s violence buttons in another life. What would have registered as the fraud of a changeling, now registered as a bit of Dean’s legacy on heaven and earth. And even with how Dean had thrown a fit over John conspiring to gank his sort-of loverboy, John was still so damn proud of Dean and Sam, despite everything. He wanted this all to be over so he could actually enjoy his childrens’ legacies.
“And I’m thinking about how I’ll be glad that even when Dean is long dead, that stupid expression will live on with you,” John said gruffly.
Jack smiled, then startled.
“Are you tricking me into forgetting about what happened by talking about silly things?”
“I like the suspicion, but no,” John blinked sheepishly. “I don’t know. This heaven situation is messy, and I want to handle it for you but it’s all way above my rank. I don’t have anything helpful to say, so I wasn’t saying much. But then you asked, so I answered honestly. What are you thinking about?”
“I’m thinking about killing Naomi,” Jack said. He began speaking quickly, which was another good sign that Jack was snapping out of it. “It would be so easy if I were angry, but I just feel cold on the inside. I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it. Amara can handle it again, but… it feels wrong. To approve of the dirty work so long as I don’t have to do it with my own hands. Either way, it’s my responsibility, right?”
“Sure is,” John said. “Welcome to being the man in charge. Sorry buddy, it’s not all fun. I know you care about your principles, and you’re right to do so. But sometimes you gotta make a tough call, and this is the right thing to do. You can’t let purity keep you from dealing with Naomi trying to screw up everything we’ve all worked for.”
“It all has to mean something,” Jack agreed. “That Gabriel is dead and Crowley is cursed. That we lost so much along the way to get to the world as it is now. I won’t let Naomi take that from us.”
Suddenly John’s mouth felt dry. He ate more soup. After they finished, they returned to the TV room in the basem*nt, but everyone was already in the library.
“You got your game face on?” John asked Jack.
“Yes,” Jack said solemnly. They entered the room.
Gabriel was many things, but dead was not one of them. ‘Pervert,’ however, may be one of them, so he took his brief opportunity to see Rowena before returning to heaven. She was distraught about something, but said she wanted to get down with Gabester-Junior anyways. Gabriel decided not to ask too many questions, even when she was riding him and her tears landed on his chest.
Witness protection as a demon was less glamorous than with the norse, but Gabriel would take what he could get at this point. Besides, he wasn’t sticking around long. He just needed to scram long enough to plan a sneak attack! And if Rowena’s post-coital spell work prepared Gabriel for battle in a way that nothing else could, well, that’s just good business.
Honestly, Gabriel was a bit offended that none of the Winchesters had figured it out and prayed to him yet. He’s pulled this trick like a gazillion times! But bygones are bygones, and Jack’s grief was palpable.
Hi Amara, Gabriel prayed. I’m about to handle some crap for you. Thank me later, and don’t say anything to Jack unless I get out alive. No point in having him grieve me again, don’t you think? It’ll just confuse the little bird brain.
Predictably, Amara didn’t show herself. She didn’t like hell much, and Gabriel couldn’t blame her, even if Rowena had made some significant upgrades. Hence, the margarita machines and vitality spell work. One last line of co*ke, and Gabriel felt awesome.
“Goodbye ponyboy,” Rowena’s smile was all plastic. “Do come by for another round when this is all handled. Jack hardly ever gives me timely updates.”
“Of course my lady,” Gabriel gave her a final smile to swoon about, kissed her hand, purred seductively (because yes, ladies and gentlemen, he still had it in him!) and rose up to heaven.
First, Gabriel was mildly happy to see Gadreel and Hannah fighting to get into Naomi’s office, all by themselves. Raphael must have been getting sloppy, or just plain old. Not Gabriel! Gabriel was as spring as when he sprung his first woody.
“Hello siblings!” Gabriel announced himself. “I am here to valiantly rescue you from a fiery death!”
“Gabriel?” Hannah demand. “I thought you were dead.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time you were wrong about that one, but who’s keeping score?” Gabriel winked. “So what’s the plan here? Brute force not working?”
“Naomi’s holed herself in there-” but before Gadreel could continue, they all felt heaven lurch at once.
Hannah and Gadreel appeared to burn up, but this was no smiting. This was another fall. Gabriel’s siblings poured out of heaven, down, down, down to reach the earth. Naomi must have realized Gabriel was here to help, and pulled some sort of panic button.
Gabriel’s good mood fell too, but he remained where he was. Thank you Rowena, you sly and sexually empowered witch! He snapped his fingers, and the doors flew open, light pouring into the now-dark hallway.
Naomi was never one for panicking much, but she panicked now. Her face betrayed nothing, but he could see it in her eyes. She knew what happened next.
“No,” she said.
“Yes,” Gabriel snapped. He wouldn’t have anyone denying him this; he was standing up and being brave as hell.
“How?”
“Performance enhancing drugs are really awesome,” Gabriel grinned.
He snapped his fingers, and they were in Jack and Gabe’s old stomping grounds. He had thought of picking a less important heaven, but ultimately decided he wanted to do this here. There was something symbolic about it.
Naomi tried to run a few times, but he had her bound before long. Now all Gabriel had to do was find a way to make an appropriate example out of her now that she had tossed out everyone else from heaven.
Auntie? A little help reversing that stunt?
Jack was trying to comprehend the idea of bringing his alive family into what was a very destabilized heaven. Now that Jack had eaten something, his senses were turned up a bit more and he could feel it. Castiel was insisting he would go with Jack, and a small part of him wondered if his dad just… missed this. Missed running into danger, being the angel who acted and changed the course of the universe.
After all, Jack had seen plenty of what happens when you yield power. Others take it. Jack could hardly blame his dad. He was beginning to agree and sort out how he'd deal with this compromise under cosmic law. But then, someone else changed their plans very quickly.
Heaven was gutted. It was like someone had poured Jack’s insides out for the second time in one day.
“Something’s wrong,” Jack turned to his father as panic threatened to engulf him.
“What are you feeling?” Castiel asked, calm as ever.
Jack didn’t know! Dean was beginning to pace, and Jack felt about ready to lose his soup. Luckily for the carpet, Amara appeared with answers Jack didn’t have.
“Gabriel is alive in heaven. Naomi purged the angels again. Gabriel has the upper hand, but he wants an audience. We go now and raise the angels with us.”
Castiel well and truly sputtered. “Take me with-”
But Jack was already on board with Amara’s plan. They could do this together. The protective anger that seemed to have withered and died was back in full force as soon as Amara’s revelation had dulled some of Jack’s grief. Gabriel was alive!
Amara and him were one again. There would be no pushing this burden off on her, not this time. It was always his responsibility anyways. Now he had to pay the price for the violence inflicted in his name. That’s what it meant to be a man, according to John anyways. Jack was no longer a passive bystander to what would be a horrific scene: Jack would smite Naomi with Amara and all of their combined power. All the angels would see. They would fear him after this, and that knowledge left a bitter taste in Jack's mouth.
They rose the angels like they rose the dead. They honed in on Gabriel’s direction and brought everyone. It didn’t matter how loyal or treasonous, every living angel would see what came next. Even Michael, who grumbled once they settled into the heaven where Gabriel would frequently indulge himself (and Jack) in all the drugs of the rainbow.
“You came!” Gabriel seemed absolutely manic, and it was contagious.
“Of course,” they said. “We have unfinished business.”
“Where’s Raphael?” Gabriel asked.
“Dead,” Naomi spat out. “And this boy will cause many more before this is over, mark my words.”
None of the angels moved, not even Michael. Naomi levelled her gaze upon Jack and Amara.
“So this is it? Rebellion is punishable by death? In the end you are no different than rulers past,” Naomi said. “You chirp and chirp about free will and how it could possibly be compatible with heaven’s structure, but you had no idea. You still have no idea how it all works, not really. Let this be a lesson to all: the era of Jack is just more tyranny with better branding. At least under me you would know what you were getting into.”
She jut out her chin expectantly. She was going to go to the gallows, just like that? A few last words and no contingency plan? Jack hesitated with Amara.
Gabriel didn’t hesitate. Silently, he appeared before her and extended his hand to where she presented her forehead, eyes wide open in something akin to disbelief.
Then, Naomi burned. Then, she was gone. And Jack had done it again: doomed someone to their death without getting his hands dirty.
The only sound left was Gabriel’s laughter, ringing in Jack’s ears.
“What do you have to say?” Michael asked after a few moments where they were all frozen in time. Jack realized he was looking to him. Everyone (with the exception of Gabriel, who was popping champagne) was looking to him to explain.
“We say this era is over,” Jack said. “Naomi’s right. It’s time we act, transparently and decisively without pandering.”
Some of the angels, especially those who had admired Naomi, seemed to cower in fear. That made Jack prickle with discomfort.
“Not like that,” he said.
Amara fell away into her own form, and Jack tried to plead with the angels for understanding.
“Naomi was a brilliant angel. She knew heaven better than anybody. We would be stupid not to heed her warning, may she rest in peace,” Jack went on. “I think heaven needs to change. I’d love to go through a process to make sure I make the right changes at the right time. I’d love all of your input. But right now, waiting for permission will only create more opportunities for the old regimes to rear their heads. I hope you will forgive me for what I am about to do, as I have already forgiven any of you who helped her launch her attack.”
“What are we gonna do?” Gabriel asked. “I mean, we have a massive power vacuum on the administrative side of things and that’s sort of my fault, so I’ll help where I can but-”
“Don’t worry about that yet,” Jack said. “Please stay here for a few minutes. I will handle everything if you put your trust in me.”
For the first time in his life, Jack knew the meaning of conviction. Gadreel was right: the rot in heaven had to be torn out from its core. Naomi’s death was just one part of that, but it was an unfortunate necessity. Naomi was the rot, but the rot went beyond Naomi.
“We will wait,” Michael’s agreement halted any murmuring in the crowd of angels that could have led to conflict.
Jack went to the Empty alone. Even Amara stayed put.
“Crowley?” Jack called into the abyss.
“What do you want?” the red-eyed Shadow asked. “Don’t you think it’s a bit early for favors considering what you did to me?”
“Yes,” Jack acknowledged. “It is far too early for favors. But I will commit to helping you after today if you can do one thing for me.”
“At least I can still make binding deals,” Crowley grinned. “Make your ask. Quickly. I’m a busy Entity.”
Jack wondered what Crowley could possibly be busy with, given that he had just become ruler to the abyss less than a day ago. He shook off the stray thought like he did to his doubt.
“I need you to hold all of the souls and angels in heaven safe in the Empty for a while. It won’t be long, and it should work fine since neither heaven nor the Empty is designed to create new experiences. When I bring them, the souls should simply dream of their memories as usual. I’ll take care of making sure its not the bad memories. The angels might be more difficult, but I need them out of the way while I do this. I promise I won’t leave them here long.”
By the time he was finished speaking, Jack felt embarrassed by how clumsy he was explaining his idea. Was he doing this for the right reasons, or just because he had something to prove?
“Your promises mean very little to me,” Crowley said finally. He pulled out a scroll from the abyss. “Let’s get all that in writing. In exchange, you owe me big time.”
“Nearly any favor you need will be yours,” Jack agreed.
“Nearly?”
“Nearly.”
“I also want to know why you want this after you’ve done whatever you need to do,” Crowley said.
“I can do that,” Jack said. “After.”
“Sign here,” Crowley instructed. Jack wrote his full name.
Jack returned to heaven.
“Shortly, you and all the souls will go on a vacation to the Empty-” Jack started.
Michael’s face gave him pause.
“I won’t leave you there long, I promise. And all the angels will remain awake,” Jack rushed to say.
“No,” Michael said. “I will return to Earth. If I should fall again, I will be glad for it.”
Michael was gone, and if Jack didn’t act quickly, the rest of the angels would follow his lead. Jack snapped his fingers to activate the deal. All the contents of heaven, but for Amara and Jack, fell into Crowley’s care. Gabriel’s betrayed expression burned into Jack’s brain.
“I’ll explain everything to them after,” Jack said.
“Are you sure about this?” Amara asked.
There were many answers Jack could give. The most honest answer would be ‘no, Amara, I am not sure about anything anymore. Everything that seems simple always turns into a mess, and even as the universe’s most powerful being, I am helpless.’
Instead, Jack said: “yes. I will rebuild their trust as we work to rebuild heaven.”
“What are you doing now?” Amara was curious, not panicked. That gave Jack some sense of calm.
“I’m burning this place to the ground,” Jack said slowly. “Then, I’m rebuilding the core of heaven.”
“How?” Amara asked.
“I don’t know,” Jack swallowed. “Please can you watch over my mother while I do this? I don’t want you to get hurt if something goes wrong.”
“You want me safe so I can rescue you if everything goes wrong,” Amara smiled. “Smart. You’re learning. Alright, get to work then.”
Amara left. Jack was the last being powering the host, and the lights flickered like they did before Jack had absorbed Chuck’s power.
Jack took a deep breath. He exhaled.
He took another breath. Exhaled.
On the third inhale, he found within himself what Death had told Jack he could do all along. Jack found out what happened when he unrestrained himself without the threat of hurting a bystander.For half a second, he paused to enjoy the sensation.
Then, he exhaled. His breath ignited the fire that quickly spread across all of the host’s corridors, the souls’ heavens, Naomi’s office, and of course, the cosmic core that could not be burned like any physical thing but was slowly falling away into nothingness.
The core took a while to burn. Jack smiled amid the flames and opened his mouth in a victory cry. He could hardly hear himself over the crackle of fire. Hot smoke burned the inside of his mouth.
When it was all over, Jack’s mouth tasted of salt and heaven was no more. All that was left was the blinding blue of the firmament, and Jack’s hand of Creation.
