"Everyone has a breaking point. A point where the 'fatal' outweighs the 'flaw,' and the world stops spinning just long enough to spit him out before carrying on as usual."
Chuck sleepily reached for his coffee before reading over what he'd written. Ever since his dramatic ending to "Swan Song," he had lost his will to write, but he'd had a traumatic vision, if his headache had anything to say for it, and he was determined to figure out what it was about.
He shook his head. "Sorry, Becky," he apologized before returning to his work, "this one isn't looking good for your Sam."
"Some breaking points are more drastic than others…"
Dean lay in bed, determined not to fall asleep. Mark-induced dreams were never pleasant, and he rarely had any other kind. He was coming to deeply regret his impulsive decision, but he knew that he'd always make it again given the choice. Knowing their lives, it might be a genuine possibility.
Outside his door, he could hear Sam, Charlie, and Cas still talking over dinner. They deserved some down time, and he wasn't complaining.
He heard Sam laugh at something Charlie had said, or maybe one of Cas' naïve eccentricities, and a smile graced his face as he thought of how their lives had changed since the days when he was the only one who could make Sam laugh like that. Remembering their childhood, though, and how he had trained himself to find the stupid joke in everything just to see Sammy smile once, only brought the kind of pain he was hoping to avoid.
Somewhere, through the maze of thoughts circling in his head, he heard Sam promising to take Charlie and Cas to brush up on their marksmanship, and he let a thrill of pride run through him at the sound of his little brother, all grown up, being the protector this time.
He must have dozed off, because he thought he heard Cas make a pop culture reference, and he had to check his arm to be sure that it was real. The mark glared back at him, and he laid back in wonder. When had the badass warrior, childlike wonderer found someone else to answer his questions?
A spark of jealousy entered his thoughts as he considered it. For that matter, when did Sam forget that Dean was the one who did the teaching, and who told Charlie she could make Sam laugh like that? They were probably finishing the pie that he didn't have an appetite for anymore, completely enjoying themselves, and just fine without him.
Well, the last part was obvious. He hadn't heard Sammy laugh this much since he first got the damned mark in the first place. His very presence, it seemed, was restraining Sam's happiness.
He rolled over restlessly, but the thoughts followed him there too. After years of self-sufficiency and responsibility, he had become the one thing he never thought he'd be: a burden. He was useless on a hunt because no one knew if it was him or the mark in charge. He was just more for Sam to watch out for, and what's worse, he was a liability. He made everything harder. He'd drawn a rift between Cas and Claire, for god's sake. He had no business being here anymore. All he did was bring people down and waste their resources.
He knew what he had to do.
Chuck woke up with his temple against the space key and swore endlessly as he backspaced fifteen pages to get to where he'd left off.
"The saddest thing about a breaking part, though," he resumed, "is that usually the epitome is only a false image. The consequences, then, come without warning to anyone else."
He shook his head to clear his thoughts a bit, shuddering at some of the images flitting across his mind. He reached for the lukewarm coffee before thinking better of it and heading for the kitchen. This one would call for something a lot stronger.
Sam knocked gently at the door. "Hey, Dean?" He was met with silence.
"Dude, I know you aren't sleeping. Don't even bother faking it. Just- well, if- yeah, I'm not having this conversation through a door, so zip up." He opened the door cautiously and fell back a step. "Oh shit. Shit, shit. Cas! Castiel!" he yelled, and two pairs of feet ran toward him.
"Sam? Is everything alright?" the angel asked, pausing to regard the human.
Charlie ran past him and looked into the room before retreating quickly, tears already welling up in her eyes. "Sam," she started helplessly, and he wordlessly engulfed her in a hug as Cas began to assess the situation.
"You can do something, right?" she asked tremulously.
Cas shook his head. "I… I don't think so. He would have to want to come back, and-"
"Cas!" Sam broke in harshly. "I don't care what you have to do, you bring my brother back right now, you understand me?"
Cas nodded briefly and walked away.
Sam returned his attention to the broken woman in his arms, although he was barely holding it together himself at the moment. A random fact about how a person in shock can possess a seeming calm flitted through his brain, but he dismissed it.
Neither of them thought to move for hours, clinging tightly to each other, each the other's last (human) friend.
"And yet, despite the severity, this would not be the end. For one person's breaking point will always be another's strongest hour."
Chuck finally let himself relax as the vision had, seemingly, played itself out. Early the next morning, he pulled himself out of his stupor and read it in its entirety, only to have his jaw drop at the end.
"What the hell? Even the goddamn visions end on a fucking cliffhanger?" He yelled at no one in particular.
There was a knock at the door, and he tilted his head in contemplative shock.
"Huh," he grunted as he rose to answer the door for his surprise guest. "Did not see that coming!"