The Monster at the End of This Book Part 1

A man took a comic book off the shelf as Dean, Sam and Angela entered. Sam and Dean were dressed in suits and long black coats while Angela was dressed in a white button up shirt, a black blazer and black pants. The man behind the counter looked up as they approached and took out their badges.

"Uh… can I help you?" the man asked.

"Sure hope so." Angela replied. "I'm Agent Kennedy and these are my partners Agents DeYoung and Shaw. Just need to ask you a few questions."

"Notice anything strange in the building, last couple of days?" Sam asked.

"Like what?"

"Well, some other tenants reported flickering lights." Dean replied.

"Uh, I don't think so." The man said. "Why?"

"What about noises?" Angela asked. "Any skittering in the walls? Kind of like rats?"

The man was getting skeptical. "And the FBI is investigating a rodent problem?"

"What about cold spots? Feel any sudden drops in temperature?"

The man started grinning. "I knew it! You guys are LARPing, aren't you?"

"Excuse me?" Dean asked.

"You're fans."

"Fans of what?" Angela asked.

"What is 'LARPing'?" Dean asked.

"Like you don't know." The man replied. "Live Action Role-Play! And pretty hardcore, too."

"I'm sorry; I have no idea what you're talking about." Dean said.

"You're asking questions like the building's haunted. Like those three characters from the books." The man replied. "What are they called? Uh… 'Supernatural.' Three hunters, use fake IDs; hunt down ghosts, demons, vampires. What are their names? Uh… Steve, Dirk and Amy? Uh, Sal, Dane and Angelica?"

"Sam, Dean and Angela?" Sam raised a brow.

"That's it!"

"You're… you're saying this is a book?" Angela asked.

"Books. It was a series. Didn't sell a lot of copies, though. Kind of had more of an underground cult following." The man went over to a table labeled 'Bargain Bin'. Sam, Dean and Angela followed. "Let's see. Um… ah. Yeah." He handed Dean a book. "That's the first one, I think. Before Angela came into it."

"'Supernatural' by Carver Edlund." Dean read. He flipped the book over. "'Along a lonely California highway, a mysterious woman in white lures men to their deaths.'"

Sam grabbed the book. "Give me that." He said. He looked at the man. "We're gonna need all the copies of 'Supernatural' you've got."

~/~\~

Dean and Angela were reclining on the bed, flipping through two books and frowned. Sam was seated by the window with his laptop.

"This is insane!" Angela exclaimed. "How's this guy know all this stuff?"

"You got me." Sam replied.

Dean got up and crossed to Sam. "How come we haven't heard of them before?"

"They're pretty obscure." Sam said. "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 the laptop towards Dean, displaying the website. "Ends with you going to hell."

Angela walked over. "I reiterate. Insane." Angela browsed the site. "Check it out. There's actually fans. There's not many of them, but still. Did you read this?"

"Yeah." Sam nodded.

"Although for fans, they sure do complain a lot." Dean said. "Listen to this, Simpatico says 'the demon story line is trite, clichéd, and overall craptastic.' Yeah, well, screw you, Simpatico. We lived it."

"Yeah. Well, keep on reading. It gets better." Sam said.

"There are 'Sam girls' and 'Dean girls', and what the hell is a 'shipper'?" Dean replied.

"As in… like, you want two people to be together." Sam shrugged. "You ship them."

Dean smirked. "Well, you and Angie are a pretty popular ship." Dean said. "You even have a ship name." he laughed.

"What is it?" Sam asked curiously.

"Sangie." Dean laughed. "Well, the uh, Sangie fans were pretty happy when you two finally got together."

Angela looked at the site. "Yeah… they even like… wrote stuff." She said. "Fanfiction?" she asked.

"Um… I would suggest not reading it." Sam said.

Dean shut the laptop. "We got to find this Carver Edlund."

"Yeah, that might not be so easy." Sam said.

"Why not?" Angela frowned.

"No tax records, no known address." Sam said. "Looks like 'Carver Edlund' is a pen name."

"Somebody's gotta know who he is." Dean said.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean and Angela were meeting with the publisher of the 'Supernatural' series: a young, attractive woman in a long sweater. She was eager but appeared a little nervous and somewhat skeptical of their intentions.

"So you published the 'Supernatural' books?" Angela asked.

"Yep." She nodded. "Yeah. Gosh. These books… you know, they never really got the attention they deserved. All anybody wants to read anymore is that romance crap. You know, 'Doctor Sexy, M.D.'?" she scoffed. "Please."

"Right." Sam replied. "Well, we're hoping that our article can… shine a light on an underappreciated series."

"Yeah, yeah, because, you know, if we got a little bit of good press then m-maybe we could start publishing again."

"No, no, no, no." Dean cut in. "God, no. I mean, why, why would you want to do that? You know, it's, uh, such a complete series, what with Dean going to hell and all."

The publisher was getting very emotional. "Oh, my god!" she exclaimed. "That was one of my favorite ones, because Dean was so… strong… and sad and brave." She said. "And Sam and Angie… they were all each other had after that… and 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 he loved since Jessica and before he fully realized he loved Angie. And in 'Home,' when Dean had to call John and ask him for help." She turned away. "Gosh… if only real men were so open and in touch with their feelings. And Angie is such an amazing character, she is such an inspiration."

Angela smiled a bit at that.

"Real men?" Dean asked.

"I mean, no offense." The publisher started. "How often do you cry like that, hmm?"

"Well, right now, I'm crying on the inside." Dean said.

"IS that supposed to be funny?"

"Lady, this whole thing is funny." Dean said.

"How do I know you three are legit, hmm?"

"Oh, trust me. We, uh… we're legit." Angela smiled.

"Well, I don't want any smart ass article making fun of my boys and Angie."

"No!" Sam exclaimed. "No, no, no. Never." Sam stammered.

"No, that's…" Dean started.

"We, we are actually, um… big fans." Angela smiled.

"Hmm. You've read the books?"

"Cover to cover." Dean said.

"Um-hmm." Sam nodded.

"What's the year and model of the car?" the publisher asked.

"It's a 1967 Chevy Impala." Dean replied.

"What's May 2nd?"

"That's mi—Angie cut herself off. "Uh… Sam and Angela's birthday."

"January 24th is Dean's." Dean said.

"Sam's score on the LSAT?"

"One…" Sam looked at Dean at a loss. "Seventy-four?"

"The name of Angela's deceased boyfriend?"

"Tyler." Angela replied.

"Dean's favorite song?"

"It's a tie." Dean replied. "Between Zep's 'Ramble On' and 'Traveling Riverside Blues.'"

"Okay. Okay. What do you want to know?"

"What's Carver Edlund's real name?" Sam asked.

"Oh, no. I, no. Sorry, I can't do that." The publisher replied.

"We just want to talk to him." Angela replied. "You know, get the 'Supernatural' story in his own words."

"He's very private. It's like Salinger."

"Please." Sam said. "Like I said, we are, um…"

Off Sam's pointed look, Dean rolled his eyes and displayed his own tattoo. Angela displayed hers too. The woman licked her lips.

"Awesome." The publisher said. "You know what?" she turned around and hiked up her skirt. "I got one, too."

"Whoa. You are a fan." Dean replied.

"Okay." She scribbled something on a pad of paper. "His name's Chuck Shurley. And he's a genius, so don't piss him off."

~/~\~

Dean, Sam and Angela got out of the Impala.

They stopped in front of the door, shared a look and shrugged.

~/~\~

"'Then, with determination, Dean pushed the doorbell with forceful… determination.'" Chuck read. He tossed the pages down in frustration. "Ugh!" the doorbell rang. He looked up, nervous, then went to answer it.

"You Chuck Shurley?" Angela asked.

"The Chuck Shurley who wrote the 'Supernatural' books?" Sam asked.

"Maybe. Why?"

"I'm Dean. This is Sam and this is Angie." Dean replied. "The Dean, Sam and Angie you've been writing about."

Chuck closed the door. Dean rang the bell again and Chuck opened the door.

"Look, uh… I appreciate your enthusiasm." Chuck said. "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 tried to shut the door, but Angela put out a hand to stop it.

"See, here's the thing." Angela replied. "We have a life. You've been using it to write your books."

She shoved the door open and entered, forcing Chuck to back up into the house.

"Now, wait a minute." Chuck said. "Now, this isn't funny."

"Damn straight, it's not funny." Dean retorted.

"Look, we just want to know how you're doing it." Sam said.

"I'm not doing anything." Chuck defended.

"Are you a hunter?" Dean asked.

"What? No. I'm a writer."

"Then how do you know so much about demons?" Angela advanced on Chuck, who fell onto the couch. "And Tulpas, and changelings?"

"Is this some kind of 'Misery' thing?" Chuck asked. "Ah, it is, isn't it? It's a 'Misery' thing!"

"No, it's not a 'Misery' thing." Angela rolled her eyes. "Believe me, we are not fans!"

"Well, then, what do you want?!"

"I'm Sam. That's Dean, and that's Angie." Sam said.

"Sam, Dean and Angela are fictional characters. I made them up! They're not real!"

~/~\~

Dean opened the trunk of the Impala, displaying the arsenal. Chuck was shocked.

"Are those real guns?" he asked.

"Yup." Angela popped the 'p'. "This is real rock salt, these are real fake IDs."

"Well, I got to hand it to you guys." Chuck replied. "You really are my number one fans." He said, still very nervous. "That's, that's awesome. So, I, I think I've got some posters in the house."

"Chuck, stop." Angela said.

"Please. Wait. Please, don't hurt me."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

"How much do you know?" Sam asked. "Do you know about the angels? Or Lilith breaking the seals?"

"Wait a minute." Chuck frowned. "How do you know about that?"

"The question is how do you." Dean replied.

"Because I wrote it?"

"You kept writing?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, even after the publisher went bankrupt, but those books never came out." Chuck replied. "Okay, wait a minute. This is some kind of joke, right? Did that, did Phil put you up to this?"

"Well, nice to meet you." Angela smiled. "I'm Angela Morgan, and these are my friends Sam and Dean Winchester."

"The last names were never in the books." Chuck frowned. "I never told anybody about that. I never even wrote it down."

~/~\~

Chuck poured himself a large whiskey and gulped it down, then set the glass on the kitchen sink. He turned around, saw Sam, Dean and Angela, and groaned.

"Oh! Oh, you're still here."

"Yup." Dean replied.

"You're not a hallucination."

"Nope." Dean shook his head.

"Well, there's only one explanation." Chuck said. "Obviously I'm a god."

"You're not a god." Sam replied.

"How else do you explain it?" Chuck asked. "I write things and then they come to life. Yeah, no, I'm definitely a god. A cruel, cruel, capricious god. The things I put you through, the physical beatings alone."

"Yeah, we're still in one piece." Angela replied.

"I killed you fathers. I burned your mothers alive." Chuck said. "And then you had to go through the whole horrific deal again with Jessica and Tyler."

"Chuck…" Angela started.

"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?" Dean replied. "You didn't create us."

"Did you really have to live through the bugs?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded.

"What about the ghost ship?"

"Yes, that too." Angela replied.

"I am so sorry. I mean, horror is one thing, but to be forced to live bad writing… if I would have known it was real, I would have done another pass."

"Chuck, you're not a god!" Angela exclaimed.

"We think you're probably just psychic." Sam shrugged.

"No." Chuck replied. "If I were psychic, you think I'd be writing? Writing is hard."

"It seems that somehow, you're just… focused on our lives." Sam said.

"Yeah, like laser focused." Dean added. "Are you working on anything right now?"

Chuck realized something. "Holy crap."

"What?" Angela asked.

Chuck picked up the pages he was reading earlier. "The, uh, latest book? It's, uh, it's kind of weird."

"'Weird' how?" Angela asked.

"It's very Vonnegut."

"'Slaughterhouse Five' Vonnegut or 'Cat's Cradle' Vonnegut?" Dean asked intently.

"What?" Sam asked, surprised.

"What?" Dean asked Sam defensively.

"It's, uh, 'Kilgore Trout' Vonnegut." Chuck replied. "I wrote myself into it. I wrote myself, at my house… confronted by my characters."

~/~\~

Sam was doing laundry as Dean and Angela sat nearby, reading Chuck's latest manuscript.

"Angie and I are sitting in a Laundromat, reading about ourselves sitting in a Laundromat reading about ourselves. My head hurts." Dean said.

"There's got to be something this guy's not telling us." Angela said.

Sam turned to toss his darks into the machine. Dean continued reading.

"'Sam tossed his gigantic darks into the machine. He and Angela were starting to have doubts about Chuck, about whether he was telling the whole truth."

"Stop it." Sam warned.

"'stop it,' Sam said'" Dean continued. "Guess what you do next."

Sam turned away, scowling. Angela had to force herself not to laugh.

"'Sam turned his back on Dean and Angela, his face brooding and pensive.' 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, exasperated. Angela looked down at the manuscript.

"You just thought Dean was a dick." She said.

Sam turned around looking impressed. "The guy's good."

~/~\~

Sam, Dean and Angela were back, and Chuck paced nervously, as if building up the courage to speak. He held more pages in his hands."

"So… you wrote another chapter?" Sam asked.

"This was all so much easier before you were real."

"We can take it; just spit it out." Angela urged.

"You especially are not gonna like this."

"I didn't like hell." Dean said.

"It's Lilith. She's coming for Sam."

"Coming to kill him?" Angela asked.

"When?" Sam asked.

"Tonight."

"She's just gonna show up? Here?" Dean asked.

Chuck sat and put on his glasses. "Uh… let's see, uh," he started. "'Lilith patted the bed seductively. Unable to deny his desire, Sam succumbed, and they sank into the throes of fiery demonic passion.'"

Sam laughed. "You're kidding me, right?"

"You think this is funny?" Angela asked.

"You don't? I mean, come on. 'Fiery demonic passion'?" Sam replied.

"Well, I don't know, Sam." She replied. "She wouldn't be the first demon you slept with, now would she?" she raised a brow.

Chuck looked between them and cleared his throat. "It's just a first draft."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait." Dean cut in. "Lilith is a little girl."

"No, uh, this time she's a 'comely dental hygienist from Bloomington, Indiana." Chuck replied.

"Great. Perfect." Dean said. "So what happens after the… 'fiery demonic' whatever?"

"I don't know, it hasn't come to me yet."

"Look, there's nothing to worry about." Sam assured. "Lilith and me? In bed?"

Dean glared at Sam but spoke to Chuck. "How does this whole psychic thing of yours work?"

"You mean my process?"

"Yes, your 'process.'" Angela replied.

"Well, it usually starts with a headache." Chuck started. "A really bad headache. 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 dreamt about us?" Dean asked.

"It flowed. It just, it kept flowing. It still does. I, I can't stop it, really."

"You can't seriously believe—Sam started.

"Humor me." Angela cut him off.

Dean stood; Chuck held up the manuscript for him. "Look, why don't we, we just…" he took the manuscript. "Take a look at these and see what's what." He said. "You—he looked at Chuck.

"…knew you were gonna ask for that. Yeah."

~/~\~

Dean was driving. Sam sat beside him reading the latest chapter, and Angela sat in the back.

"Guys, come on." Sam said. "'The minivan accident wasn't that bad, but Dean and Angela were still seeing stars. Dean scratched absently at the pink flower Band-Aids on his face.'"

"So?" Dean asked.

"So, I've seen you both gushing blood. You two would use duct tape and bar rags before using pink flower Band-Aids."

"What's your point?" Angela raised a brow.

"My point is this, all of this, is totally implausible, it's nuts." Sam replied.

"He's been right about everything so far." Angela replied. "You think he's just gonna ground out at first now?"

Sam scoffed. "'Dean and Angela got into the Impala and drove off, the plastic tarp on the rear window flapping like the wings of a crow.'"

"A tarp?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. On the rear window. And you drive it like that."

"Well, he might be wrong about the details, but that doesn't mean he's wrong about the end result." Angela shrugged.

"So we're just gonna run?"

"Dude, we are a long way from ready for a face to face death match with Lilith." Dean replied.

They came to a roadblock and came to a stop. A deputy leaned over to talk to Dean.

"What seems to be the problem?" Dean asked.

"Bridge is out ahead."

"We're just trying to get out of town." Dean said.

"Yeah, afraid not."

"Is there a detour?"

"Nope."

"There's not a side road that takes us to the highway?"

"To get to the highway, you have to cross that river. To cross that river, you have to take that bridge."

"How deep's the river?"

"Sorry. Afraid you three are gonna have to spend the night in town."

~/~\~

Dean was now reading the manuscript as Sam and Angela looked over the menu.

"Hey, this could be a good thing." Dean said. "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 do you mean?" Sam asked.

"It's a blueprint of what not to do. I mean, if the pages say that we go left—

"Then we go right." Angela nodded.

"Exactly." Dean nodded. "We get off book. We never make it to the end. It's opposite day. It says that we, uh, we get into a fight. So, no fighting. Angie, in the Impala you ride up front. No research for you, Sam…"

"No bacon cheeseburger for you." Sam smirked at Dean.

Dean looked slightly put out. "Yeah, no problem. I'll just order something else."

The waitress approached.

"Hi, uh, what's good?" Dean asked.

"Well, if you like burgers, Oprah's girlfriend said we have the best bacon cheeseburgers in the country."

Sam and Angela laughed.

"Really?" Dean asked.

"I'll just have the cobb salad, please." Sam replied.

"Me too, thanks." Angela said.

"I'll have the… veggie tofu burger." Dean said. "Thanks."

The waitress took their menus and left.

"This whole thing's ridiculous." Sam scoffed.

"Lilith is ridiculous?" Dean asked.

"The idea of me hooking up with her is."

"Right." Angela laughed a bit. "'Cause something like that can never happen. Not in a million years." She said sarcastically.

Sam scowled a bit. "For the first time, we have warning that Lilith is close."

"So?" Dean asked.

"So… we've got the jump on her. If we know when she's coming, we know where she's, this is an opportunity."

"Are you—Dean tried not to get angry. "It frustrates me when you say such reckless things."

"Well, it frustrates me when you'd rather hide than fight." Sam said.

"Yeah, well, Sam we can't fight if we're not ready." She glared. "And we aren't ready."

"Cobb salad for you two." The waitress smiled. "And the tofu veggie burger for you."

"Thank you." Dean said. The waitress left; Dean leaned in close. "It's not hiding. It's being smart. It's picking your battles. Angie is right, this is a battle we are not ready to fight." Dean took a huge bite of his burger and his eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, my god. This is delicious. Tofu is amazing!"

The waitress approached, flustered. "I am so sorry. I gave you the bacon cheeseburger by mistake." She took his plate away.

Sam scowled.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean and Angela drove up to a very sleazy looking motel, Angela riding upfront. The pulled into the parking lot.

"Dude, this place charges by the hour." Sam said.

"Yeah, well, the book says Lilith finds you at the Red Motel." Dean replied. "Hence, the uh, hooker inn. It's opposite day, remember?"

~/~\~

Dean dropped a bag on the bed and started pulling out items. He took a few small string tied bags and placed them around the room.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked.

"Couple of hex bags ought to Lilith-proof the room."

So, what? I'm supposed to just hole up here all night?"

Angela reached into Sam's back and pulled out his laptop.

"Oh, Angie, come on." Sam groaned.

"Just call it a little insurance." She replied.

"What are you and Dean gonna do?"

"Well, the pages say that Angie and I spend all day riding around in the Impala. So we're gonna go park her." Dean shrugged. "Behave yourself, would you? No homework. Watch some porn."

Dean smiled, and left with Angela. Sam fumed.

~/~\~

As Dean and Angela drove away from the motel, the word 'Toreador' on the neon sign sputtered and several of the lights burned out. The remaining letters spelled: RE D

~/~\~

Dean parked the Impala and he and Angela got out. He checked the doors, then they walked across the street. Moments later, they looked back to see two teenagers attempting to break into the car. They ran towards them.

"Hey!" Angela yelled.

A van careened towards them; and they can't get away in time, and it hit them. They were knocked to the ground, unconscious.

~/~\~

Sam opened the door to reveal Chuck.

"You wanted to see me?" Chuck asked.

"Yeah." Sam nodded.

Looking around shiftily, Sam opened the door wider and Chuck entered. He shut the door behind him.

"Thanks for coming." Sam added.

"Ah, sure."

"Um… I was just wondering how much you know. About me."

"What do you mean?" Chuck asked.

"Have you seen visions of me when I'm not with Dean or Angie?" Sam asked. "Though, I think she already knows…"

"Oh…" Chuck said. "You want to know if I know about the demon blood."

"You didn't tell them." Sam said.

"I didn't even write it into the books. I was afraid it would make you look unsympathetic."

"Unsympathetic?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, come on, Sam." Chuck shrugged. "I mean, sucking blood? You got to know that's wrong."

"It scares the hell out of me. I mean, I feel it inside of me. I… I wish to god I could stop."

"But you keep going back."

"What choice have I got?" Sam asked. "If it helps me kill Lilith and stop the apocalypse—

"I thought that was Dean and Angela's job." Chuck said. "That's what the angels say, right?"

"Dean's not… he's not Dean lately. Ever since he got out of hell. And Angie's not strong enough to do it without Dean. They need help."

"So you got to carry the weight?"

"Well, Dean's looked out for me my whole life? I can't return the favor?"

"Yeah, sure you can." Chuck nodded. "I mean, if that's what this is."

"What else would it be?"

"I don't know. Maybe the demon blood makes you feel stronger? More in control?"

"No." Sam replied. "That's not true."

"I'm sorry, Sam. I know it's a terrible burden, feeling that it all rests on your shoulders."

"Does it? All rest on my shoulders?"

"That seems to be where the story's headed."

"Am I strong enough to stop Lilith tonight?"

"I don't know." Chuck shrugged. "I haven't seen that far yet."

~/~\~

Dean and Angela woke slowly, still lying in the middle of the road. A woman hovered over them; she had very long dangling earrings shaped like stars.

"Oh my god." The woman said. "Just take it easy, you two are gonna be okay."

"Stars." Angela mumbled incoherently.

"What was that?" the woman asked.

Dean and Angela tried to raise their heads.

"I'm so sorry." The woman apologized. "I just didn't see you. Are you okay?" she asked as they sat up. "And sorry about… you know." She indicated a young girl standing nearby. "M-my daughter's going through a doctor phase."

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked.

"You're all better now." The girls smiled.

Dean and Angela's faces were covered in pink flowery Band-Aids. They looked across the street and stared in horror. The Impala's back window was shattered.

"Oh, no…" Angela breathed.

They approached the car and Dean was fuming. Dean and Angela caught of glimpse of themselves in the side window and saw the Band-Aids. Dean frowned and peeled one off. Angela peeled all of hers off.

~/~\~

Dean and Angela drove along, Dean still fuming. A tarp covered the rear window, flapping like the wings of a crow.

~/~\~

Chuck, carrying a bottle in a brown bag and six-pack of cans, unlocked the door to his house and entered. He walked in slowly and did not appear very surprised to find Dean and Angela sitting in his living room.

"Dean. Angela."

"I take it you knew we'd be here." Dean said.

"You look terrible." Chuck said.

"That's 'cause we just got hit by a minivan, Chuck." Angela replied.

"Oh."

"That it?" Dean asked. "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 said.

"Why do I get the feeling there's something you're not telling us?" Dean asked.

"What wouldn't I be telling you?"

"How you know what you know, for starters!" Angela snapped.

"I don't know how I know, I just do!"

"That's not good enough." She said. She shoved Chuck against the wall. "How the hell are you doing this?!"

Castiel appeared out of nowhere. "Angela, let him go!" Castiel exclaimed, pulling her off of Chuck.

She turned to face Castiel.

"This man is to be protected." Castiel said.

"Why?" she asked, calming down a bit.

"He's a Prophet of the Lord." Castiel replied.

A/N: Hey guys, sorry I haven't posted in like a week. I took a small writing break, but I'm back now. Hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Don't forget to review, review, review! Love y'all!

~Emily