"Well Chuck, it's been… interesting meeting you, to say the least," Ella said, as she and Oshea and Sam and Dean stood in Chuck Shurley's living room/office area once more.
"Just so you know, we'll be keeping in contact. So if I were you, I'd keep writing. You never know when we'll just randomly pop by," Dean said, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at Chuck.
Chuck shifted uncomfortably, staring down at his feet. He gave a nervous, joyless chuckle. "Oh goody…" He said quietly.
As they left Chuck's home and piled into the Impala, Ella looked back at the house. "Poor guy, I kinda feel sorry for him."
"Why?" Oshea said, looking out of the window as the houses started to go by. "He just sits on his butt all day and writes… we're the ones who have to live it…"
Dean glanced back at Oshea in the backseat and then sighed, looking away from her. The images that Chuck had written were still fresh in his mind as they started down the highway.
xx
Chuck was laying under a pile of old tattered blankets on the couch, sleeping restlessly. He tossed and turned and some of the blankets slid off of him onto the floor as he groaned and panted heavily. Suddenly, he jerked awake and gave a tiny whimper, breathing heavily as he stared up at the ceiling.
"Did you see it?"
At the sound of the voice, the prophet lurched upward and whirled, pressing his back against the back cushion of the couch. He did not relax his stiff posture as he saw the older, balding man dressed in a neatly pressed suit standing in front of him. "Who are you?"
"I'm sure you know me from your writings," The man said with a small smile.
Chuck swallowed and ran a hand through his hair. "Zachariah…"
"Did you see it?"
Chuck nodded weakly and as he lowered his hand, he noticed them trembling. "Is it going to happen?"
"Have you ever been wrong before?" Zachariah countered, furrowing his brows slightly.
Chuck stood from the couch, letting the blankets fall away and pool in the floor at his feet. He started to step toward the kitchen. Zachariah shook his head. "I'll stop you if you try it." Chuck paused midstep and looked to him.
"But I have to warn them…"
"No. Just let things run their due course." Zachariah said, his eyes traveling over the home briefly.
Chuck swallowed, looking thoroughly miserable as he stepped by Zachariah.
"Where are you going?" The angel asked without turning to look at him.
"I'm going to kill myself," Chuck said weakly.
"Don't be so melodramatic, Chuck," Zachariah said, his voice sounding amused. "We would just bring you back to life."
Chuck froze and closed his eyes swallowing hard a moment to try to keep himself composed. He turned around to face the angel. "Then what should I do?"
"What you always do," Zachariah said. "Write."