The day had become a nightmare with the snap of a finger. Literally.

All you'd wanted was to help Jack. When the Winchesters had called you about his powers growing too strong too fast, you'd rushed to find him. And that's how you ran into Chuck. You hadn't seen him since he left with Amara for some cosmic sibling bonding time, but you'd always liked him. Even when he was a washed up writer who rivaled Dean in daily alcohol consumption.

Chuck had offered to help. Which meant nothing could go wrong, right? I mean, how could it when God was on your side?

Dean had raised the Equalizer, prepared to shoot the nephilim. That gun was the only thing that could kill beings like Jack. But he'd hesitated, and that's when things went downhill. Sam and Dean had become enraged at Chuck when they realized human lives-theirs especially-were just entertainment to them. And it was horrible, but you couldn't help but see reason in it. Chuck was God, and surely God got bored all alone.

And Chuck had snapped his fingers, smiting Jack.

You and Castiel were knelt over Jack's body, the eyes burned from the socket. Dean was sprawled in the grass after Chuck threw him with his power.

Then you heard Sam shout Chuck's name, and load the gun.

You were up before you even registered that you were moving. "No don't shoot him!" you cried, jumping over a grave to block Sam. The gun went off in a single, ear-splitting shot. And then there was blood leaking from your ribcage. Sam had shot you. Sam went down as a matching wound appeared on him, an effect of the Equalizer. But all you could focus on was the white hot pain and sticky wetness of you chest.