AN: I did not write this, strange as that feels to say. Written by my lovely best friend LMedora for the jointfic I talked her into writing with me. =) Tell us what you think! Next chapter is mine.

Disclaimer: For the both of us; no, we do not own them, though sometimes we like to pretend we do. We have as much control as Chuck. So, like, none. XP

Chuck

I opened my eyes slowly blinking away the blur that turned my living room ceiling into mere shapes and colors. I sighed when I realized that I had passed out on the floor again. Last night, the stream of visions had been too much. I wasn't even a part of it and I still wanted to shout my head off and make it all right. But I knew I couldn't. All I could do was sit at my computer and press a bunch of keys for something that nobody will survive long enough to read anyway.

A mess of sandy blond hair suddenly ticked my face and the excited, wide-eyed girl looking down at me grinned. Becky had been living with me ever since the Supernatural convention, having invited herself into my home. I'd tried being in love with her for a few weeks, I honestly did, but it was too awkward for both of us and she was too obsessed with the Winchesters to be satisfied. So she assigned herself as my unofficial caretaker. Dutifully on queue, she held up a steaming hot mug of coffee.

"So?" she said anxiously as I attempted to sit up, despite my pounding head. "Is Sam alright? I know he must have been just torn after killing Brady, even though he really deserved it, but then again, Sam's been kind of dark lately. And what about Crowley? Did you send him away like I asked you to?"

I rolled my eyes as I struggled to stand. Becky seemed to have it in her head that my being the author of the books meant I actually got to decide what happens in them. Honestly, what kind of a writer has that much control?

"Nope, I don't think he's going anywhere soon," I groaned, stretching out my sore limbs. Becky grabbed my shoulders to help me stand up faster. She steered me towards my cluttered desk where the only open space was the monitor and keyboard.

"So what was the vision then?" she demanded, seeming confused. "You were shouting in your sleep which was really getting annoying, so I think you should tell me before you start writing it."

I resisted rolling my eyes again. She was really enjoying being the only Supernatural fan in the world getting the story directly from my head. I knew that within ten minutes, the whole community of fans within a thousand mile radius would have the story update memorized.

"Sam's going to say yes to Lucifer," I said, turning on the computer. "Everybody's going with his plan and hoping for the best. Sorry, Becky, I think he's going to die."

"No he's not," she said simply with a light shrug, sipping from her own mug.

"Um…" I frowned at her as she looked away carelessly. "Yes, I think he is."

"Not if you want a drop of vodka the next time your head hurts, he's not," she said threateningly in a way that really gave me the creeps. Fangirls…my worst enemy.

"Becky, I can't just change the gospel because you don't like what's inevitably going to happen," I said, trying, to make her understand. "I'm sorry, but I think he's really going to do it."

"NO…HE'S…NOT!" she screeched, making sure to get it right in my ear so that it rang through my hangover. She stood up and stormed out of the room, slamming the door to her bedroom.

I didn't have enough time to allow my headache to ease before the phone suddenly rang, making me jump and wince painfully.

"Hello?" I moaned bitterly upon answering.

"Chuck, it's Bobby," said the gruff voice on the other line. "We need to talk."

"Yeah, I know," I said, rubbing my eyes. "Is it really that late? You weren't supposed to call until the afternoon."

"Listen," he continued, ignoring my question. "Remember that future Dean was sent to?"

"How could I not?" I scoffed. "It's been a constant nightmare for months. Why?"

"Well, it seems to be happenin' around us," he said tiredly. I could tell it had been stressing him out for a while. "Croatoan's been released, Sam's heading out to Detroit in a few days, Castiel's battery has run out…it's happening. You better get down here so we can start up our happy club of demon hunting friends."

"But it's going to be different than what Dean said," I offered with slight hope. "I mean, for one, you're walking again. How is that, by the way?"

"I've got my freakin' legs back, you idjit, how do you think it is?" he shouted, not in an unkind way.

"It's just…" I shifted awkwardly, glad Bobby couldn't see my expression. "I know you've been feeling strange since it was Crowley who gave them back."

There was silence for a few moments and I knew Bobby was turning red. I'd seen it in my vision. "Just haul your ass down here, Chuck. Don't make me reinforce the Beckster."

"It's not like I can leave her behind, so it wouldn't matter," I shrugged. "You don't think anyone will be too upset by her being there?" But Bobby had already hung up. I set the phone down on my desk and leaned back in the chair, willing for my headache to disappear.

"Becky," I called out. She marched into the room, arms folded, glare in place. "You want to say your final goodbyes to Sam in person, or what?"

Her face instantly lit up like an archangel's glow and her jaw dropped in her most piercing fangirl scream yet. She ran over and tackled me in a hug that sent the chair flying backwards.

An hour later, we boarded the first flight we could catch to South Dakota. Like every public outing, Becky spent her time pointing out everybody in the terminal who looked suspicious, asking me if they were demons of some sort, waiting to abduct us. But we safely made it onto the plane and began take off. It was then that my headache returned.

"Is it another vision?" Becky asked in a dramatic whisper that everybody nearby could have heard. I meant to speak with her about subtlety…

"I think so," I gasped, grabbing fistfuls of my hair in an attempt to distract myself from the pain. Colors and lights flashed before my eyes—images trying to break through.

"STEWARDESS!" she shouted, waving her arms in the air.

Then the airplane disappeared and I was at a crossroads in the middle of a forest. Everything there was peaceful, quiet. A thick layer of fog covered a foot of ground as far as I could see. But everything had an unnatural glow to it which I recognized as the residue of angelic light. Something had just happened…something I was meant to see. I looked all around, taking in every detail as Becky had been instructing me to do. Any detail I missed was exactly what she pestered me about until I remembered. Then I saw the object of my vision.

At the very center of the crossroads was a naked, motionless body. I was surprised to see that I recognized him. There were the dark shadows of the eyes, the sharply pointed features, and the short blond hair. Everything about him prudently read Winchester, but it was neither Dean nor Sam.

"Adam?" I whispered in disbelief.

But then the vision shivered and I was ripped back to the airplane where everything was noisy and painful and my headache ruled all. I blinked my eyes at the too bright lights, wincing as Becky's frustrated shouts rang through my ears. I stood up and stumbled out of my seat.

"Where are you going?" Becky demanded, grabbing onto my wrist.

"Go…" I gasped. "Not this plane…yet. We go…this way."

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