Disclaimer: See chapter one.

Author's note: So I've just decided I should never give you guys a timeline, just for the sheer fact that I never seem to follow them. Family came home from a long vacation, so I didn't have time to update yesterday. I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, it's kind of indirect, addressing some things I've read on some forums…I like it and yet I don't. I'm sure you'll understand.

This chapter has spoilers for the last episode 'Swan Song' of Supernatural season 5. So if you have not seen it, and intended to do so…I recommend reading no further until you do.

Brea45 (a very awesome writer and friend) requests a Supernatural crossover. Harry/Chuck pairing.

'Endings are hard. Any chapped ass monkey with a keyboard can poop out a beginning, but endings are impossible. You try to tie up every loose end…but you never can. The fans are always gonna bitch, there's always going to be holes…and since it's the ending it's supposed to add up to something.'

"So I take it this is it huh?"

The tired voice came out of nowhere- there had been no footsteps or the opening and closing of the front door that had signaled the other man's arrival. Chuck didn't jump from his seat at his old kitchen table, typing quickly at the keyboard at the computer almost as if the young man had never spoken.

"You have nothing to say at all to that?"

Chuck barely jolted as the nearly empty whiskey bottle suddenly flew up into the air on its own and slammed against the wall in front of him. It took another minute for him to finish his paragraph; before he turned and looked at his would be assailant behind him.

"I take it you figured it out?" Chuck asked quietly, straightening his pristine white button up shirt before turning to take in the upset young man that leaned against the wall next to the open doorway.

"It wasn't that hard once I started to think about it." Harry sighed tiredly as he slid down the wall, resting his arms on his knees. "You had a bunch of old guys write your last few books, and if Castiel and the other angels are right…they fucked it up. I guess if you want to get something done right you have to do it yourself huh?"

It had been nearly six months since Harry Potter, the Twice-Savior-of-the-Wizarding-World and nephew to John Winchester had met the Prophet of the Lord known as Chuck Shirley, writer of the 'Supernatural' series that would one day become known as the Winchester gospel. The wizard couldn't understand his interest in the older man; he was skittish, he drank alcohol like a fish, and had this horrible stutter that would show up when he was nervous or scared. There had been something though, a light that seemed to surround the man as time went by and he saw him more. At the time Harry had just thought it was the man's aura strengthening as he came into his own. But now with Lucifer gone and everything finally over…Harry knew the truth.

"So have you been just fucking with us the whole time?" Harry asked softly, his head resting on his knees now, and he never moved it even as Chuck came and kneeled on the filthy floor beside him.

"I started remembering after…well after I brought Castiel back to life." Chuck spoke quietly, almost to himself as he stared off at the flickering kitchen light. "Memories that weren't my own were occurring out of nowhere, ones that had nothing to do with Sam and Dean. Harry…why aren't you with Dean?"

"Aren't you supposed to be omniscient?" Harry's voice was muffled by his knees, easily heard by the man next to him. He didn't even bother waiting for a reply. "Sam and Lucifer...Michael and Adam. They're all dead, sealed away in the pit, or somewhere I imagine only you know. Bobby went back to South Dakota probably getting ready to go hunting again, and Dean…Dean went home."

"Harry, you should have gone with Dean. They would have welcomed you there." Chuck pulled the smaller man into his arms, holding him tightly even as he began to struggle and beat against the older man's chest; sobs growing as he screamed out his anger.

"Why? So I could just watch Dean stare at me, wondering why we both lived and Sammy died? He would have come to hate me, resent me for representing everything he had lost. So…I made them forget. I made them all forget I ever existed. As far they know…Dean and Sam Winchester never had a cousin." Harry shook as he looked up Chuck, furious through his tears. "Why would you do this to me? Why have you made me suffer so much? Was your pretending to care just another way to fuck with the life of Harry Potter?"

"No Harry…not at all. You were my chosen, my most beloved child." Chuck whispered softly against Harry's dark locks. "All those chosen, they have their trials. Their burdens that are shoved upon them just for being loved…those picked by vampires, demons, pagan gods…and especially me."

"So...what do we do now?"

"We live Harry. Not in ruling in heaven, and certainly not in Hell. We will just simply be. Together if you will have me."

"…Shouldn't you already know the answer to that?"

Nothing else was spoken between them, and as the light above the kitchen sink flickered one final time…they were gone as if they never were.

'No doubt, endings are hard. But then again, nothing ever really ends.'

Please review!

And for those of you who submitted ideas for 'If wishes were crossovers' that have yet to be written for…don't think I won't ever write them okay? I'm coming back to this. It's not over for good. I'll still be writing these oneshots in between other stories, I just won't be posting them for awhile.