Sorry this took a bit longer than expected, but read/review/follow/favorite/ENJOY! (p.s. - I own nothing!)
Chapter Twenty-Six:
A sweaty, exhausted, and completely annoyed Laura Norwood had finally made it back to the prophet's ramshackle home. Stomping up the steps, she tried to yank the door open, but it was locked.
"Dammit!" she growled, feeling her pockets for a bobby pin. After a moment or two she had the sinking feeling that she, yet again, forgot to keep one on her person. "Christ, Laura…"
"Such a fowl mouth from such a delicate thing," came a disapproving voice from right behind her.
Startled, Laura spun around, getting prepared to whip out the gun she had concealed in the back of her pants.
As if reading her mind, the middle aged and balding man smiled and calmly stated: "You won't be needing that."
"Who are you?" Laura demanded, eyeing him intently.
The stranger was tall, around 6'3", and though he was wearing a very expensive business suit, the psychic could tell he had quite the beer gut. He had an arrogant air about him, too, and although his dark blue eyes seemed pleasant enough, Laura couldn't help feeling a bit intimidated by him.
"I don't think that's the question you should be asking," he countered with a small grin, clearly enjoying himself while he toyed with her.
"I'll bite… what are you?" Laura asked snarkily. "Obviously not a spirit or a demon…"
The man chuckled a bit and nodded: "Ah, very good, very good. I see you're getting stronger."
"Are you gonna answer me or not?"
"Certainly not the fearful type either," there was a darkness behind his response as the man continued to steadily gaze at the young woman.
Laura merely folded her arms and refused to respond, so the balding businessman stated: "I am an angel."
Laughing and shaking her head in disdain, the brunette complained: "You guys are like gnats."
"Excuse me?" the angel said with a somewhat dangerous look.
"You guys tortured me and left me in the middle of friggin nowhere… so sorry I'm not thrilled to meet you," Laura pointed out snottily.
The warrior of Heaven's angry expression melted away as he feigned sympathy: "Oh yes. I did hear about that. Uriel was always a bit… militant…"
"Really? I didn't notice," Laura's words dripped with sarcasm.
The angel chortled and mused with a grin: "I see why Castiel has taken such a liking to you."
"Yeah, leaving me in Guam sounds like somethin' you do to a friend," the psychic snorted.
"He was just trying to keep you out of harm's way," the angel defended his own.
Laura raised her eyebrows at the middle aged vessel and responded: "Oh please… he was just making sure I wouldn't mess with Chuck's stupid prophecy."
"Interfering with the affairs of angels is not a wise thing to do… I'm sure you remember what happened to Pamela," the Heavenly host tried to suppress a smug smirk.
As Laura scowled up at him and tried to hold herself back from decking the prick in the face, she responded fiercely: "Well I all ready told Dean, and he's gonna stop it."
"Oh, he all ready did," the angel shrugged casually. Sighing, he added: "Lilith's long gone and miles away."
A bit surprised, but mostly relieved, the psychic smiled to herself, but soon a sinister thought popped into her head.
"So you're here to punish me then… for getting in the way right? Well do your worst," Laura practically dared the angelic being.
He merely laughed and shook his head: "I'm not here for that, you silly woman."
The brunette gave him an inquisitive look, so he explained innocently: "I just wanted to speak with you."
"About what?"
"Your abilities… they're quite extraordinary," he tilted his head to the side as if examining her.
"If you're looking for answers, get in line," Laura walked around the angel, and headed off of the porch.
The warrior of God followed her as she made her way around to Chuck's side door and began to look around.
"You should learn to have patience," he stated, as the brunette dug through the dried out and dead flower pots beside the door.
"Easy for you to say. You're not the one being sleep deprived," she muttered, now standing on her tiptoes and feeling the top of the doorframe.
"Ah, yes… those dreams would keep anyone up," he sighed, as if he knew something she didn't.
Laura paused as she checked under the faded welcome matt: "How do you know what I dream about?"
"We've been watching you for some time, Laura," he responded, still watching her with an uncomfortable amount of intensity.
"Well that's not creepy at all," she raised her eyebrows as she felt under the matt. Her irritated disposition immediately perked up once she had found what she was searching for.
Pulling out a rusted key, she unlocked the side door and allowed herself back inside the prophet's drafty home.
"He should really find a better hiding spot for this," she addressed the angel thoughtfully, tossing him the key.
"Don't change the subject," the angel commanded with a slight tone of ire.
With furrowed eyebrows, the psychic glanced up at him, whilst continuing to gather the things she left in Mr. Shurley's living room.
"We don't know how you can do the things you can, or how powerful you will grow to become, but we do know why Lilith has taken such an interest in you," his blue eyes suddenly became darker.
Grabbing her keys and walking over to the make-shift bar, Laura poured herself a generous glass of whiskey and responded: "You gonna fill me in?"
"You are very important for how this whole thing will turn out," he said cryptically.
Taking a gulp from the burning liquid, Laura replied dryly: "So I've heard."
"Do you know of what's about to happen?"
Laura shook her head with a puzzled look.
"Lilith will raise Lucifer. It's inevitable," the angel seemed a bit too calm for spreading such horrific news.
Laura's blue-green eyes gazed steadily at the somewhat callous angel: "Well don't seem so broken up about it…"
"It's fate," he shrugged.
"Well we're gonna stop it," Laura replied as she was growing more and more disgruntled by the angel's passive attitude.
"Who?" he snorted with complete amusement. "You and the Winchesters? Good luck."
"Do you want the Devil running around up here or something?" she snapped, feeling completely offended. Why wasn't he taking them seriously? Or the situation, for that matter…
"Yes," the angel of the Lord honestly stated, as if it were a completely normal response.
Laura took another gulp from the glass before shaking her head and replying: "Did you get dropped on your head as a baby angel or something?"
"Once Lucifer walks free, we will be able to stop him forever," the balding angel explained.
"And how do you plan on doing that?" Laura inquired with a cocked eyebrow.
"It may take some time… but we will win, and my brother will be dead," he responded darkly.
Finishing the glass, Laura set it on the table and headed towards the front door: "Sounds great… but I think you're forgetting how many innocent people will die."
"No. I'm not. We guess it will be in the millions," he almost smiled.
Laura looked at the so-called righteous creature with disgust and hatred.
"Look at it like population control," he was clearly amused.
Shaking her head, Laura opened the front door and glared at the despicable being standing before her: "Well it's a good thing Lilith won't get the cage open then."
The angel sniggered a bit before becoming deathly serious: "You really need to drop the idea that you and the Winchesters can stop her."
"Call me stubborn," she turned her back to the angel and headed out the front door, but now he was suddenly right in front of her, blocking the psychic's path.
"You would do well to stay out of my way," he glared down at the puny female.
"Don't tell me you're scared we might win," she smirked cockily, trying to get a rise out of the powerful being.
His face twitched a bit, but he soon broke out into a fake smile: "Not at all. Try your best, but I should warn you… stopping Lilith is going to take a lot."
"I think I can handle it," she pushed passed him and headed towards the Stang.
As she opened the driver's side door and was about to hop in, the angel said something that made the psychic stop dead in her tracks.
"Can you handle killing Sam?"
Looking back over to where the angel asked her that disturbing question, Laura saw that the porch was vacant, leaving her alone with a mind full of questions and a churning, anxious stomach.
Chuck was asleep on his couch after the very long, very stressful day he had. The prophet was tossing and turning, as his once pleasant dream turned into a horrific nightmare. After a few minutes, the now sweating writer drunkenly shot up, gasping for air with wide eyes.
"Did you see it?" came a voice from behind him.
An alarmed Mr. Shurley jumped up from the couch, and turned to face who had spoken.
"Who are you?" he asked with a shaking voice.
The same suit-wearing, balding angel with dark blue eyes spoke with a dry smile: "I'm Zachariah. You've written about me."
"Oh…" Chuck muttered. He had had enough of angels and demons and hunters to last him a lifetime.
"Did you see it?" Zachariah repeated his question with a more assertive tone.
Chuck nodded solemnly and practically whispered: "Is it true? Is this really going to happen?"
The angel responded with eerie calmness: "You haven't made a mistake so far…"
Rushing towards the door, Chuck muttered to himself: "I've gotta warn Sam and Dean."
"You're not gonna do that," the angel said dangerously.
The prophet slowly turned to face the now completely serious Zachariah.
"People shouldn't be told of their destiny," the angel said threateningly: "And if you try to tell them, I'll stop you."
Chuck immediately began to walk towards the kitchen, and the angel followed him as the author grabbed a large kitchen knife.
A bit perplexed, Zachariah inquired as to what the man before him was doing.
"I'm gonna kill myself."
"Don't be overdramatic," the angel rolled his eyes. "Besides… you do that and we'll just bring you back."
"So what am I supposed to do? Wait for the world to end?" Chuck asked hopelessly.
"What you've always done, Chuck… write."