Chapter Fifteen, The Monster at the End of This Book

April 9th- April 11th, 2009

After a huge argument over Sam not celebrating Harley's birthday and actually ditching her for it, things had been rather icy and tense between the three Winchesters and between Sam and Bobby. Gabriel had been avoiding Sam, as his restraint on not smiting him was waning. Now, however, Bobby had found them a case which led to the three siblings ending up in an unusual place; a comic bookstore. Harley was getting bored while she waited on Sam and Dean to question the clerk about the victim, so she had taken to browsing the store when she spotted a rather peculiar set of books; books that were about them.

Picking them up hurriedly, Harley noticed that they were titled 'Supernatural' and were written by someone named Carver Edlund, probably a fake name. Flicking through the first book Harley noticed was about when they got Sam from college when they were hunting the Woman in White and searching for their 'father'. Panicked, Harley scooped up a handful of them and rushed over to her brothers, after a hurried conversation they paid for the books before booking it back to the hotel.
"How is it he knows everything?" Harley questioned, looking up from her bed and the book she'd been reading. "Something doesn't seem right bout this guy."
"I don't know Rosie. But if you feel that way we'll proceed with caution." Dean reassured her, looking up from the book he'd been reading. He knew just his sister's instincts with and without the Prophet's power, much like she always trusts his own instincts.

Sam shrugged from behind his laptop. "You
got me."
Dean shook his head. "Everything is in here. I mean everything. From the racist truck to-to me having sex. Wait. WHAT THE HELL! THERE'S EVEN ROSIE HAVING SEX IN HERE!" He got up chucking the book he was reading as far from him as he could get, and crossed the room to Sam. "How come we haven't heard of them before?"
Sam shrugged. "They're pretty obscure. I mean, almost zero circulation. Uh, started in '05. The publisher put out a couple dozen before going bankrupt. And, uh, the last one... 'No Rest For The Wicked?' He turned his laptop toward Dean and Harley. "Ends with you going to Hell."

Dean nodded. "I reiterate. Friggin' insane."
Sam scrolled through the website. "Check it out. There's actually fans. There's not many of them, but still. Did you read this?"
Sam nodded. "Yeah."
"What?" Harley asked.
Dean shrugged. "Although, for fans, they sure do complain a lot. Listen to this... Simpatico says 'the demon storyline is trite, cliched, and overall craptastic.' Yeah, well, screw you,
Simpatico. We lived it."
Sam nodded. "Yeah. Well, keep on reading. It gets better."
"There are 'Sam girls,' 'Dean girls,' and
'Harley girls'... and... what's a 'slash fan'?"
Dean asked.

"As in... Sam-slash-Dean," Sam said uncomfortably, "Some people even write some Harley slash-fics with either of us or both, but mainly with you Dean."
Harley screwed her nose up in disgust. "What does that mean?"
Sam frowned. "Like us... together."
"Like, together, together?" Dean asked.
Sam cringed. "Yeah."
Harley shook my head. "But we're family..."

Sam shrugged. "Doesn't seem to matter."
"Oh, come on. That - That's just sick." Dean complained, shutting the laptop in disgust. "We got to find this Carver Edlund."
Sam nodded. "Yeah, that might not be so easy."
"Why not?" Dean and Harley asked.
Sam shook his head. "No tax records, no known address. Looks like Carver Edlund is a pen name."
Dean shrugged. "Somebody's gotta know who he is."

* * *

The siblings decided to speak to the publisher, the three of them were acting as journalists. The publisher seemed somewhat sceptical and a little bit nervous.
"So, you published the 'Supernatural' books?"
Sam asked.
She nodded. "Yup. Yeah. Gosh. These books..." She walked over to a bookshelf and brushed her hands along the whole collection of books. "Ya know, they never really got the attention they deserved. All anybody wants to read anymore is that romance crap. Ya know... Doctor Sexy, MD?" She scoffed.

"Please." She shrugged. "I mean honestly, at first, I wasn't sure how it would do with the little sister. You know 'cause she can be so needy. And there's way too much codependency between her and Dean."
Harley and Dean felt offended by that comment, but a look from Sam stemmed their protests.
"I mean, I don't know about being needy, I would say she's lonely a lot and has to deal with quite a lot and the only one there for her is Dean. He is the one constant in her messed up life." Harley shrugged. "I think she's pretty cool."
She nodded. "Oh no, don't get me wrong. I love her. I mean everything that happened to her? How could you not?" She gestured to Harley.
"Plus, with the addition of Harlene, it helps bring in a younger audience, which is great for the books and well... me."

Sam nodded. "Right. Well, we're hoping that our article can... shine a light on an under-appreciated series."
"Yeah, yeah, because, you know, if we got a little bit of good press, then may- maybe we could start publishing again." She smiled happily.
Dean shook his head. "No, no, no. God, no." He cleared his throat when he realised how upset he was making her. "I mean, why- why would you want to do that?" He chuckled nervously. "Ya know, it's, uh, such a complete series, what with Dean going to Hell and all."
"Oh, my god!" She shouted, starting to look a little emotional. "That was one of my favourite ones because Dean was so... strong... and sad and brave.

And Sam... I mean, the best parts are when they'd cry. You know, like in- in
'Heart,' when Sam had to kill Madison, the first woman since Jessica he really loved. And in 'Home,' when Dean had to call John and ask him for help." She turned away, wiping her misty eyes. "Gosh... if only real men were so open and in touch with their feelings."
"Real men?" Dean asked.
She shrugged. "I mean, no offence. How often do you cry like that, hmm?"
Dean chuckled. "Well, right now, I'm crying on the inside."
"Is that supposed to be funny?" she asked, annoyed.
"Lady, this whole thing is funny," Dean said.
She rolled her eyes. "How do I know you three are legit, hmm?"

"Oh, trust me. We, uh- We're legit," Dean said.
She scowled at Dean. "Well, I don't want any smartass article making fun of my boys... and Harley, of course." She added as an afterthought, which just pissed Dean off.
"No! No, no, no. Never," Sam stammered.
Dean shook his head. "Now, see -"
"We- We are actually, um... big fans," Sam said.

"Hmm. Have you read the books?" she asked sceptically.
Dean and Harley nodded. "Cover to cover.'
Sam nodded. "Mm-hmm.
"What's the year and model of the car?" She asked, with an eyebrow raised.
"It's a 1967 Chevy Impala." Harley said.
"What's May 2nd?" She asked.
"That's my-" Sam cleared his throat. "Uh... that's Sam's birthday."
"January 24th is Dean's. And April 2nd is Harley's birthday." Dean said.
"Sam's score on the LSAT?" she asked.
"One....." Sam thought for a second and looked at Dean, almost at a loss. "Seventy-four?"
"Dean's favourite song?" she asked.

"Uh, it's either Zep's Ramble On or Travelling Riverside Blues." Harley stated.
She sighed and nodded. "Okay. Okay. What do you want to know?"
"What's Carver Edlund's real name?" Sam asked.
She shook her head. "Oh, no. I- No. Sorry, I can't do that."
"We just want to talk to him. Ya know, get the Supernatural story in his own words," Sam said.
"He's very private. It's like Salinger," she said.
"Please," Sam begged, "Like I said... we are, um..." He unbuttoned his shirt, cringing slightly, and revealed his demon-protection tattoo. "Big... big fans." He glanced over at Dean and Harley who rolled their eyes and then also revealed theirs.

She licked her lips a little and then smiled brightly. "Awesome. Ya know what?" She turned around and pulled up her skirt, revealing one on her butt cheek. "I got one, too." Collecting herself with a throat clearing from Harley the woman turned around and got to business. "Okay." She smiled and scribbled something on a pad of paper. "His name's Chuck Shurley." She handed the paper to Sam. "And he's a genius, so don't piss him off."

* * *

The sibling trio pulled up to Chuck's house, then we walked up to the front door and rang the bell.
A couple minutes later, a man answered the door. He was wearing a bathrobe, and he had bags under his eyes. He looked extremely stressed out.
"You, Chuck Shurley?" Dean asked.
"The Chuck Shurley, who wrote the Supernatural books?" Sam asked.
"Maybe." Chuck furrowed his brow. "Why?"
"I'm Dean. This is Sam. And this is Harley.
The ones you've been writing about," Dean said.
Chuck nodded. "Right." Then he shut the door in their faces. Dean shook his head and rang the doorbell again.

Chuck opened it. "Look, uh... I appreciate your enthusiasm. Really, I do. It's, uh, it's always nice to hear from the fans. But, uh, for your own good, I strongly suggest you get a life." He started to shut the door again.
Dean put his hand on the door to stop him.
"See, here's the thing. We have a life. You've been using it to write your books." He shoved the door opened, forcing Chuck back, and then we walked in.
"Now, wait a minute. Now, this isn't funny!" Chuck whined.
Dean nodded. "Damn straight, it's not funny."
"Look, we just want to know how you're doing it," Sam said.
Chuck shook his head. "I'm not doing anything."

"Are you a hunter?" Dean asked.
"What?" Chuck furrowed his brow and then shook his head. "No. I'm a writer."
"Then how do you know so much about demons?" Dean asked, approaching Chuck, which made him fall onto his sofa. "And Tulpas, and changelings?"
"Is this some kind of Misery thing? Ah, it is, isn't it? It's a Misery thing!" Chuck shouted, now looking terrified.
Dean shook his head. "No, it's not a Misery thing. Believe me, we are not fans!"
"Well, then, what do you want?!" Chuck yelled.
"I'm Sam," Sam said.
"I'm Dean," Dean said.
"And I'm Harley." Harley stated.
Chuck shook his head. "They are fictional characters. I made them up! They're not real!"

Harley, more than a little suspicious of Chuck Shurley, had Chuck follow the three of them out to the Impala, where Dean popped the trunk.
"Are those real guns?" Chuck asked with wide eyes.
Dean nodded. "Yup." He reached in and patted a burlap bag. "This is real rock salt."
He popped open a box full of IDs. "These are real fake IDs."
Chuck nodded. "Well, I gotta hand it to you guys. You really are my number one fans." He smiled nervously. "That's, that's awesome." He turned and started walking toward his house. "So, I- I think I've got some posters in the house."
"Chuck, stop," Dean said, starting to follow after him.

Chuck put his hand up. "Please. Wait. Please, don't hurt me."
"How much do you know? Do you know about the angels? Or Lilith breaking the seals?" Sam asked.

Chuck furrowed his brow. "Wait a minute. How do you know about that?"
"The question is how do you?" Dean said.
"Because I wrote it," Chuck said.
"You kept writing?" Sam asked.
Chuck nodded. "Yeah, even after the publisher went bankrupt, but those books never came out." He shook his head. "Okay, wait a minute. This is some kind of joke, right? Did that- Did Phil put you up to this?"
Dean nodded. "Well, nice to meet you. I'm Dean Winchester, and this is my brother, Sam, and my sister, Harley, but I call her Rosie."
Chuck shook his head. "The last names were never in the books. I never told anybody about that. I never even wrote that down."

* * *

Chuck let the Winchesters follow him back into his house, where he poured himself a large glass of whiskey and gulped it down. He set the glass down on the kitchen table, took a deep breath, and then groaned when he turned to them. "Oh! Oh, you're still there."
Dean nodded. "Yup."
Chuck sighed. "You're not a hallucination."
Harley shook her head. "Nope."
"Well, there's only one explanation." Chuck laughed. "Obviously, I'm a god."
Sam shook his head. "You're not a god."
"How else do you explain it?" Chuck asked. "I write things, and then they come to life. Yeah, no, I'm definitely a god," he said, starting to sound like he was losing his mind. "A cruel, cruel, capricious god. The things I put you through..." He shook his head shamefully.
"The physical beatings alone."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, we're still in one piece."
"I killed your father." Chuck looked down at Harley. "I tortured Harley on several occasions." He looked back up at three of them. "I burned your mother alive." He turned to Sam. "And then you had to go through the whole horrific deal again with Jessica."
Sam shook his head. "Chuck-"
"All for what?" Chuck asked. "All for the sake of literary symmetry. I toyed with your lives, your emotions, for... entertainment."
"You didn't toy with us, Chuck, okay? You didn't create us." Dean said.
"Did you really have to live through the bugs?" Chuck asked.
Harley nodded. "Yeah."
"What about the ghost-ship?" Chuck asked.
Dean nodded. "Yes, that too."

Chuck shook his head and looked at the siblings sympathetically. "I am so sorry. I mean, horror is one thing, but to be forced to live with bad writing... if I would have known it was real, I would have done another pass."
"Chuck, you're not a god!" Dean shouted.
"We think you're probably just psychic," Sam said.
Chuck shook his head. "No. If I were psychic, you think I'd be writing? Writing is hard."
Sam shrugged. "It seems that somehow, you're just... focused on our lives."
Dean nodded. "Yeah, like laser-focused. Are you working on anything right now?"
Chuck gasped. "Holy crap."
"What?" Sam asked.
He picked up a stack of papers next to his computer. "The, uh, latest book? It's, uh- It's kind of weird."

"'Weird' how?" Sam asked.
"It's very Vonnegut," Chuck said.
"Slaughterhouse-Five, Vonnegut or Cat's Cradle, Vonnegut?" Dean asked.
Sam looked at him in shock. "What?"
"What?" Dean asked defensively.
"It's, uh, Kilgore Trout, Vonnegut. I wrote myself into it. I wrote myself, at my house.. confronted by my characters," Chuck said.

* * *

After Chuck gave the siblings his manuscript, they left his house and went to a laundromat to get some laundry done. While Harley (reluctantly) helped Sam with the laundry, (she was still extremely mad at him), Dean read over the manuscript.
Dean shook his head. "I'm sitting in a laundromat, reading about myself sitting in a laundromat reading about myself. My head hurts."
"There's got to be something this guy's not telling us," Sam said and threw some laundry into the washer.
"'Sam tossed his gigantic darks into the machine. He was starting to have doubts about Chuck, about whether he was telling the whole truth,'" Dean read.

Sam shook his head. "Stop it."
''''Stop it,' Sam said," Dean read and looked up at Sam. "Guess what you do next."
Sam scowled and turned away.
Dean looked back down at the book. "Sam turned his back on Dean, his face brooding and pensive."" He shrugged. "I mean, I don't know how he's doing it, but this guy is doing it. I can't see your face, but those are definitely your 'brooding and pensive' shoulders."
Sam sighed, annoyed.
"You just thought I was a dick," Dean said as he started reading again.
Sam raised his eyebrows and nodded. "The guy's good."
"Haha." Dean muttered sarcastically.

* * *

Chuck called because he had written another chapter and felt like they needed to read it. So, when they got there, he paced back and forth nervously with the pages in his hand. He looked like he was building up the courage to tell them what was going on.
"So... you wrote another chapter?" Sam asked.
Chuck sighed and shook his head. "This was all so much easier before you were real."
"We can take it. Just spit it out," Dean said.
Chuck looked at Dean and Harley. "You two especially are not gonna like this."
Dean shrugged. "I didn't like Hell."
"I didn't like losing Dean or being tortured by the ghost of our so-called mother." Harley grouched, glaring at the man. There was something definitely not right about him. "So, let's hear it."

"It's Lilith," Chuck said nervously. "She's coming for Sam."
"Coming to kill him?" Dean asked.
Chuck nodded.
"When?" Sam asked.
Chuck sighed. "Tonight."
Dean shook his head. "She's just gonna show up? Here?"
Chuck sat down with his manuscript. "Uh... let's see, uh..." He flipped some pages and started reading, 'Lilith patted the bed seductively. Unable to deny his desire, Sam succumbed, and they sank into the throes of fiery demonic passion.'"
Harley frowned, just thinking about that grossed her out.
Sam laughed. "You're kidding me, right?"
"You think this is funny?" Dean asked. "After the thin ice you're already on for the stunts you pulled?!"

Sam furrowed his brow. "You don't? I mean, come on. 'Fiery demonic passion'?"
Chuck shrugged. "It's just the first draft."
"I don't think the way it's written is the issue here, Sam," Harley snarled.
Dean shook his head. "Wait, wait, wait. Lilith is a little girl."
"No, uh, this time, she's a..." Chuck looked down and read, 'Comely dental hygienist from Bloomington, Indiana.'"
Dean nodded. "Great. Perfect. So what happens after the... 'fiery demonic' whatever?"
Chuck shook his head. "I don't know, it hasn't come to me yet."
Sam sighed. "Dean, look, there's nothing to worry about. Lilith and me? In bed?"
"I mean, in all honesty, it wouldn't be that shocking especially as you've hooked up with Ruby." Harley stated, shrugging her shoulders, ignoring the glare Sam sent her.

Dean glared at Sam but continued to speak to Chuck. "How does this whole psychic thing of yours work?"
"You mean my process?" Chuck asked.
Dean rolled his eyes. "Yes, your process."
Chuck sighed. "Well, it usually starts with a headache. A really bad headache, kinda like how Harley gets when she gets a vision from her Prophet of the Lord powers, but less intense then hers. However, Aspirin is useless, so... I drink. Until I fall asleep. The first time it happened, I thought it was just a crazy dream."
"The first time you dreamed about us?" Dean asked.
Chuck nodded. "It flowed. It just kept flowing. It still does. I- I can't stop it, really."
Sam shook his head. "You can't seriously believe-"

Dean put his hand out and interrupted Sam.
"Humor me." He walked over to Chuck with his hand out, but he was already holding the manuscript up for Dean. "Look, why don't we
- we just..." He took the papers out of Chuck's hand. "Take a look at these and see what's what." He raised an eyebrow at Chuck.
"You-"
"Knew you were gonna ask for that." Chuck nodded. "Yeah."

***

The Winchesters left Chuck's to get out of the town before Lilith could show up, but as they drove, Sam read the manuscript.
"Dean, come on." Sam scoffed and read, 'The minivan accident wasn't that bad, but Dean was still seeing stars. He scratched absently at the pink flower band-aids on his face.'"
"So?" Dean asked.
"So, I've seen you gushing blood. You'd use duct tape and bar rags before you'd put on a pink flower Band-Aid," Sam said.
Dean shook his head. "What's your point?"
Sam rolled his eyes. "My point is this... all of this... is totally implausible, it's nuts."
"He's been right about everything so far. You think he's just gonna ground out at first now?" Dean asked.
"Huh." Sam scoffed and continued reading.
'Dean slid behind the wheel of his beloved
Impala and drove off, the plastic tarp on the rear window flapping like the wings of a crow.'"
"A tarp?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded. "Yeah. On the rear window. And you drive it like that."
Dean shrugged. "Well, he might be wrong about the details, but that doesn't mean he's wrong about the end result."
"So we're just gonna run?" Sam asked.
"Dude, we are a long way from ready for a face to face deathmatch with Lilith," Dean said, but then we pulled up to a roadblock. He rolled his window down, and a deputy leaned in. "What seems to be the problem?"
"Bridge is out ahead," the deputy said.
"We're just trying to get out of town," Dean said.
The deputy nodded. "Yeah, 'fraid not."
"Is there a detour?" Dean asked.
The deputy shook his head. "Nope."
"There's not a side road that takes us to the highway?" Dean asked.
"To get to the highway, you have to cross that river. To cross the river, you'll have to take that bridge." The Deputy informed them.

"How deep is the river?" Dean asked with a chuckle.
The deputy shrugged. "Sorry. Afraid you kids are gonna have to spend the night in town."

* * *

Unfortunately, they turned around and headed back into town. Dean decided to stop at a diner to get some food before heading to a motel.
"Hey, this could be a good thing," Dean said, looking up from the manuscript. "I mean, if this is what puts us on the path to Lilith, then all we got to do is get off the path."
"How?" Harley asked, rubbing her forehead, a migraine was starting which often herald a vision.
Dean shrugged. "It's a blueprint of what not to do. I mean if the pages say that we go left
Sam nodded. "Then, we go right."
Dean nodded. "Exactly. We get off-book. We never make it to the end. Today is opposite day. It says that we, uh, we get into a fight. So, no fighting. No research for you." Then he looked at Harley. "No reading Harry Potter for the thousandth time."
"Urgh!!! Okay." Harley grumbled.

Sam shrugged. "No bacon cheeseburger for
you."
Dean frowned. "Yeah, no problem. I'll just order something else." He looked up at the waitress when she stopped at our table. "Hi, uh, what's good?"
The waitress shrugged. "Well, if you like burgers, Oprah's girlfriend said we have the best bacon cheeseburgers in the country."
Sam and Harley laughed.
"Really?" Dean asked, looking a little sad.
"I'll just have the cobb salad, please." Harley smiled.
Dean sighed. "I'll have the... veggie tofu burger. Thanks."
"And I'll have the..." Sam smirked at Dean.
"Bacon cheeseburger."
"Great choice." The waitress smiled and walked away.

"You did that on purpose." Dean scowled.
"No way," Sam said sarcastically with a smile, before he shook his head. "This whole thing's ridiculous."
"Lilith is ridiculous?" Harley asked, an eyebrow raised.
Sam shook his head. "The idea of me hooking up with her is."
Dean nodded. "Right. 'Cause something like that can never happen."
Sam scowled and then swallowed his anger.
"Dean, for the first time, we have a warning that Lilith is close."
"So?" Dean asked.
Sam shrugged. "So... we've got the jump on her. If we know when she's coming, we know where she's-" He sighed. "This is an opportunity."
"Are you-" Dean shook his head and held back his fury. "It frustrates me when you say such reckless things."

Sam nodded. "Well, it frustrates me when you'd rather hide than fight."
"Cobb salad for you." The waitress set Harley's food down in front of her. "Bacon cheeseburger for you." She put Sam's food down in front of him. "And the tofu veggie burger for you." Then she put Dean's down and walked away.
"Thank you," Dean said and then leaned forward. "It's not hiding. It's being smart. It's picking your battles. This is a battle that we are not ready to fight." He picked up his burger and took a huge bite out of it, and his eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, my god. This is delicious. Tofu is amazing!"
Sam took a bite out of his, gagged, and then spit it out onto his plate. "Best burger? This thing is disgusting!"

Suddenly, their waitress ran over, flustered. "I am so sorry. I gave you the wrong plates by mistake." She switched Sam's plate with Dean's and then hurried away.
Sam scowled.
Dean looked down at his plate and frowned.
"It's got your half-chewed bit on it."
Sam shrugged. "Might make it taste better." Then he took a bite out of one of the best burgers he had ever eaten.

* * *

Afterward, the siblings pulled up to a sleazy place called The Toreador Motel.
Sam scoffed. "Dude, this place charges by the hour."
Harley watched as a woman in short shorts and a tight, low-cut top led a man into one of the rooms with a smile on her face.
"Yeah, well, the book says Lilith finds you at the Red Motel. Hence, the uh, hooker inn. It's opposite day, remember?" Dean asked.
As they walked into their room, Dean and Harley started pulling little pouches out of their bags and placing them around the room.
"What are you doing?" Sam asked.
"Couple of hex bags ought to Lilith-proof the room," Dean said.
"So, what? I'm supposed to just hole up here all night?" Sam asked.

"That's exactly what you're gonna do, okay?
And no research. I don't care what you do... use the Magic Fingers or watch an Erotica on Pay-Per-View," Dean said with a smile as he pulled Sam's laptop out of his bag.
"Oh, dude, come on," Sam said as he stepped forward to take his laptop back.

Dean put his hand out. "Just call it a little insurance."
"What are you gonna do?" Sam asked.
"Well, the pages say that I spend all day riding around in the Impala. So, I'm gonna go park her. Behave yourself, would you? No homework. Watch some porn," Dean said and then pointed to me. "You're coming with me.
No motel."
I shrugged. "I don't have a problem with that, but where am I supposed to sleep tonight?"
Dean put his arm around my shoulders.
"Looks like you're sleeping outside." Harley scowled at him.
He laughed nervously as we walked out.
"Obviously, I'm kidding. I'd never do that to you Rosie. To Sam yes, never to you."

***

Dean and Harley drove the Impala a couple blocks over and parked it. They got out, he locked the doors and checked them twice before they started walking back toward the motel. The brother and sister duo had only walked a little ways away when Dean turned back and yelled, "Hey!" Then he started running toward the Impala.
Harley turned and saw two teenage boys trying to break into the Impala, so she chased after Dean. She watched Dean run into the middle of the street and saw a minivan-driving straight toward him.
"Dean! Look out!" Harley screamed and then gasped when the van hit him, and he fell to the ground, unconscious. "Oh, my god!"

She ran over to him, and as Harley knelt next to him, the kids smashed through the back window of the Impala.
Then a woman with huge star earrings and a little girl jumped out of the van and ran over to them. As they did, the kids went running.
Harley shook Dean. "Dee, please wake up."
"I'm so sorry! I didn't see him!" the woman yelled as she knelt next to them.
The little girl pulled some pink flower bandaids out of a little backpack and started putting them on Dean's face.
Dean took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

Harley gasped. "Dean? Are you okay?"
"Just take it easy, you're gonna be okay," the woman said.
"Stars," Dean muttered as he stared at the woman's earrings.
"What was that?" the woman asked.
Dean blinked a couple times and sat up.
"I'm so sorry. I just didn't see you. Are you okay?" the woman asked. "And sorry about.. ya know." She indicated her daughter. "My-My daughter's going through a doctor phase.
Dean shook his head. "What are you talking about?"
The little girl smiled. "You're all better now."
Dean took a deep breath and then looked across the street to the Impala in horror.
"Oh, no..." He stood up, fuming.

"Just take it easy," the woman said.
He pushed past her and continued to the Impala, and Harley followed after him.
"Are you okay?" Harley asked.
He shook his head. "No, look at her."
Then he caught a glimpse of himself in the backseat window, rolled his eyes, and then ripped the pink band-aids off of his face.
"Get in," he said.
Harley did as he asked and waited for him to finish taping a tarp that he had pulled out of the trunk to the back window, and then they took off.

* * *

They pulled up to Chuck's house, but he wasn't there, so Dean picked the lock, and they waited in his living room for him to get back.
A little while later, Chuck walked in with a brown paper bag and a six-pack of beer.
"Dean. Harley." He nodded at them.
"I take it you knew we'd be here," Dean said.
"You look terrible," Chuck said.
Dean nodded. "That's 'cause I just got hit by a minivan, Chuck."
Chuck nodded. "Oh."
"That's it?" Harley demanded, as Dean stood up. "Every damn thing you write about us comes true. That's all you have to say is 'oh'?!"
"Please don't yell at me." Chuck coward.
"Why do I get the feeling there's something that you're not telling us?" Dean asked, stepping closer to Chuck.

Chuck shook his head. "What wouldn't I be telling you?"
"How you know what you know, for starters!"
Dean shouted.
"I don't know how I know! I just do!" Chuck yelled back, nervously.
"That's not good enough." Dean grabbed
Chuck by his collar and pushed him up against the wall. "How the hell are you doing this?!"
Castiel appeared out of nowhere behind
Dean. "Dean, let him go!" Dean did as he asked and then turned to face him. "This man is to be protected."

"Why?" Dean asked.
"He's a prophet of the Lord, like Harlene but not as powerful." Castiel said.
"You- You're Castiel... aren't you?" Chuck asked.
Castiel nodded. "It's an honour to meet you, Chuck. I... admire your work." He reached down and picked up one of Chuck's books and started flipping through it.
Chuck stumbled over to his armchair, opened a fresh bottle of whiskey, and poured himself some.
Dean shook his head. "Whoa, whoa, what?
This guy, a prophet? Come on, he's- he's-he's practically a Penthouse Forum writer." He looked at Chuck. "Did you know about this?"
"I... uh-" Chuck stuttered and took a swig of his whiskey. "I might have dreamed about it."
"And you didn't tell us?!" Harley shouted.

Chuck shook his head. "It was too preposterous. Not to mention arrogant. I mean, writing yourself into the story is one thing, but as a prophet? That's like M Night-level doucheiness." He gulped down the rest of his whiskey.
"This is the guy who decides our fate?" Dean asked Castiel quietly.
Castiel shook his head. "He isn't deciding anything. He's a mouthpiece... a conduit for the inspired word."
"The word?" Dean asked, "The Word of God?
What, like the new New Testament?"
Castiel nodded. "One day, these books.. they'll be known as the Winchester gospel."
"You gotta be kidding me," Chuck, Dean, and I said in unison.
Castiel shook his head. "I am not... kidding you."

"If you'd please excuse me one minute,"
Chuck said, still clutching his bottle of whiskey and then disappeared upstairs.
"Him? Really?" Dean asked.
"You should've seen Luke," Castiel said.
"Why'd he get tapped?" Dean asked.
Castiel shrugged. "I don't know how prophets are chosen. The order comes from high up on the celestial chain of command."
"How high?" Dean asked.
"Very," Castiel said.
"Well, whatever. How do we get around this?"
Dean asked.
Castiel shook his head. "Around what?"
"The Sam-Lilith love connection. How do we stop it from happening?" Dean asked.
Castiel sighed. "What the prophet has written
can't be unwritten. As he has seen it, so it shall come to pass."

***

Dean and Harley pulled up to The Toreador
Motel, but when I stepped out, I looked up at the sign and realised all the letters were no longer lit up except for R, E, and D.
"Dean, look," Harley said and pointed up to the sign.
He shook his head and put his hand on Harley's back. "Hurry."
They ran into their room and immediately grabbed their bags.
"Come on. We're getting out of here," Dean said.
Sam shook his head and stood up. "What? Where?"
"Anywhere, okay? Out of this motel, out of this town. I don't care if we have to swim, we are getting out." Dean looked around, confused. "Dude, where are all the hex bags?"
Harley looked and realised they were all gone.
"I burned them," Sam said.
"Are you out of your Damn mind!!" Harley screamed at her Irish twin who she hardly recognised anymore.

Sam sighed. "Look, if Lilith is coming, which is a big if_"
Dean shook his head. "No, no, no. It's more than an if. Chuck is not a psychic. He's a prophet."
"What?" Sam asked.
"Cass showed up, and apparently Chuck is writing the gospel of us," Dean explained.
Sam shrugged. "Okay."
Dean nodded. "Okay. Let's get the hell out of here."
"No," Sam said firmly.
Dean shook his head. "Lilith is gonna slaughter you."
Sam shrugged. "Maybe she will. Maybe she won't."

"So, what? You think you can take her?" Dean asked, getting progressively angrier.
Sam nodded. "Only one way to find out, Dean. And I say bring her on."
Dean shook his head. "Sam-"
"You think I'll do it, don't you?" Sam asked.
"You think I'll go dark-side."
"Yes!" Dean shouted. "Okay? Yes. The way you've been acting lately? The things you've been doing?"
Sam looked at him, startled.
Dean nodded. "Oh, I know. How you ripped Alastair apart like it was nothing... like you were swatting a fly. Cass and Gabe told me and Harley, okay?"

"What else did he tell you?" Sam snapped.
Dean shrugged. "Nothing I don't already know. That you've been using your psychic crap, and you've been getting stronger. We just don't know why, and we don't know how."
Sam shook his head. "It's not what you think."
"Then what is it, Sam?" Dean asked and then shrugged. '"Cause I'm at a total loss." He grabbed his bag and then gestured for Harley to grab hers . Harley followed him to the door, and then he stopped and turned to Sam. "Are you coming with us or not?"
Sam shook his head. "No."
Dean turned back to the door, threw his bag on a chair, and then stormed out.
"So, did Cass and Gabriel really tell him, or did you?" Sam asked.
Harley turned to him angrily. "What?"

"Did they tell him or you!?" Sam snarled at his sister.
"You know what? I don't know you anymore. You're an addict Sam and the more we try to help you the more you run straight back to the demon-bitch Ruby for your next fix." Harley spat. "So you know what? Do whatever you like. You'd do it anyway." She scoffed, picking up her bag and storming out of the room.
'Don't worry my Rosie, I'll never leave you or make you feel second best. If you need help with Lilith being so close, call me and I'll come. I love you.' Gabriel said in her mind.
'I love you too.' Harley whispered.

***

Dean drove them to Chuck's house, where they charged in to find him sprawled out on his couch.
"What are you doing here?" Chuck asked, looking surprised this time. "I didn't write this.'
Dean grabbed him by the shirt and manhandled him up. "Come on. I need you to come with me."
"What? Where?" Chuck asked.
"To the motel where Sam is," Dean said.
"That's where Lilith is," Chuck said, looking terrified.
"Yep." Harley nodded. "And you're going to help us stop her."
"Are you insane? Lilith?" Chuck asked and ripped his arm away from Dean. "I know what she's capable of. I wrote her."

Dean nodded. "All right, listen to me. You have an archangel tethered to you, okay? All you gotta do is show up and boom! Lilith gets smoked."
"But I- I- I haven't seen that yet," Chuck stuttered, "The- The story-"
Dean shook his head. "Chuck, you're the only shot that we've got left."
Chuck shook his head. "But... I'm just a writer."
"This isn't a story anymore, man. This is real!" Dean shouted, "And you're in it! Now, I need you to get off your ass and fight."
Chuck walked away, thinking for a minute.
"Come on, Chuck," Dean pleaded.
Chuck shook his head. "No friggin' way."
"Okay, well, then, how about this..." Harley stepped toward him. "I've got a gun in my pocket, and if you don't come with us, I'll blow your brains out."

"I thought you said I was protected by an archangel," Chuck said.
Dean nodded. "Well, interesting exercise.
Let's see who the quicker draw is."

***

After Chuck reluctantly agreed to go back to the motel with them, they charged into their room and found a blonde whom Harley assumed was Lilith, straddling Sam with a knife held above him.
"I am the prophet, Chuck! And this is the prophet, Harley!" Chuck yelled, adding Harley into the plan which caused Dean to whack him across the back of the head.
Lilith turned and rolled her eyes. "You've got to be joking." She got off of Sam and walked up to Chuck.
Dean shook his head. "Oh, this is no joke."
The room began to tremble, and bright light poured through the windows.

"You see, Chuck here's got an archangel on his shoulder. You've got about ten seconds before this room is full of wrath, and you're a piece of charcoal. You sure you want to tangle with that?" Dean asked as the light grew brighter, and the trembling grew more intense.
Lilith looked at Sam one last time and then smoked out of the girl she was possessing.

* * *

Finally, the siblings hit the road, and Sam informed them that the reason Lilith came was to talk to him about a deal, but he denied it. Dean told Harley to sit up front with them because the back window was still busted with a tarp on it.
Which made the car loud and cold back there.
"So, a deal, huh?" Dean asked.
Sam nodded. "That's what she said."
"To call the whole thing off... angels, seals, Lucifer rising, the whole nine?" Dean asked.
"That was the gist of it," Sam said.
Dean nodded. "Huh."
"What?" Sam asked.
"You didn't think once about taking it?" Dean asked.

"Are you kidding me? Dude, you spent all day trying to talk me off the Lilith track," Sam said.
Dean shrugged. "I'm just saying-"
"She would have found some way to weasel out of it. And all it would have cost us was our lives," Sam said.
Dean nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right."
Sam shook his head. "Anyway, that's not the point."
"What's the point?" Dean asked.
"The point is... she's scared. I could see it.
Lilith is running," Sam said.
"Running from what?" Harley asked.
Sam shook his head. "Don't know. But she was telling the truth about one thing."
"What's that?" Dean asked.
"She's not gonna survive the apocalypse. I'll make sure of that," Sam said with determination.