The End | {BOOK 5}

52| Welcome to The End

I walked out, joining Sam and Chuck as Chuck picked up and started playing with an archangel blade.

"I haven't seen one of these in forever," he said. "Where'd you get it?"

"Another world," I answered, voice pained.

Sam gave me his signature puppy dog look while Chuck winced in sympathy and set the blade down.

"Oh. Right."

"So..." Sam got Chuck's attention. "How many are there- how many other worlds or- or universes or realities or whatever?"

"I don't know. Kinda lost count. Most of them are boring. One's in reverse. In one, there's no yellow," he chuckled. "One- One of them's just all squirrels."

"So, Michael said you create these worlds and you just toss them away like failed versions of some book," I said.

"And you believe him?" Chuck raised an eyebrow at me.

"Was he lying?" Sam asked. "Is that what you're doing to us?"

"No. Sam... you, your brother, and Ellie, of all the Sams, Deans, and Ellies in the multiverse, you're my favorite. You're just so interesting. I mean, like that thing that happened at the office earlier today- that was crazy, right?"

"Do you watch us?" I queried. "When you're not here, are- are you... watching us?"

"Yeah," Chuck nodded, exhaling deeply. "I mean, you're my favorite show."

"Then why don't you do something?" Sam growled. "If I had your power-"

"Sam. We talked about this. Not the way it works."

I sighed, then realized something as Sam continued.

"Wait a second. Why, when the chips are down, when the world is- is failing, why does it always have to be on us?!"

"Because you're my guys. But right now, we have to focus on Jack. Ah, that kid. Whew!"

"Wait a second," Sam furrowed his brow. "You're scared of him."

"Aren't you?"

"Do you know where he is?"

"I do," Chuck nodded.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

"Oh, nothing. Dean's already gone," Chuck gestured over his shoulder, confirming my suspicions.

⁘

Chuck, Sam and I pulled into the cemetery Chuck had directed us to. Cass was laying on the ground a little ways away from Dean and Jack. Dean was holding the gun in his hand and Jack was on his knees in front of him. Sam jumped out, running toward his brother and the Nephilim. I was next, choosing to run over to Cass instead. Chuck was in the rear, taking his time as he approached. I helped Cass to his feet and we hurried over just as Dean un-cocked the gun and tossed it to the side.

"No!" Chuck yelled. "Pick it up! Pick it up."

"The hell, Chuck?" Dean asked.

"This isn't how the story is supposed to end," Chuck stated stubbornly.

"The story?" Cass inquired.

Chuck huffed, frustrated.

"Lookit, the- the- the gathering storm, the gun, the- the father killing his own son. This is Abraham and Isaac. This is epic!"

"Wait," Dean interrupted, confused. "What are you saying?"

"He's saying he's been playing us," Sam supplied. "This whole time."

"Come on," Chuck whined.

"Our entire lives," Sam continued, "Mom, Dad- everything. This is all because you wrote it all, right? Because- because what? Because we're your favorite show? Because we're part of your story?"

Chuck huffed, turning on Dean, getting desperate.

"Okay, Dean, no offense, but your brother is stupid and crazy. And that kid is still dangerous. So pick up the gun. Pick it up... pull the trigger... and I'll bring them back. Madelaine and Zeppelin."

"No," Dean said, taking a few steps back so he stood next to Sam and I. "No. I miss them, but they wouldn't want this. And it's not like you even really care. 'Cause Sam's right. The Apocalypse, the first go-around, with Lucifer and Michael- you knew everything that was going on, so why the games, Chuck, huh? Why don't you snap your fingers and end it?"

"Look, I-" Chuck started but I interrupted him.

"And every other bad thing we've been killing, been dying over," I scoffed, "where were you? Just sitting back and watching us suffer so we can do this over and over and over again- fighting, losing people we love? When does it end? Tell me."

"Dean, don't do this," Chuck pleaded.

"No, we're done talking," Dean told him. "'Cause this- this isn't just a story. It's our lives! So God or no God, you can go to hell."

"Have it your way."

Before we could react, Chuck had snapped his fingers and Jack screamed. His eyes lit up like he had been attacked by an angel and he fell to the ground, screaming and gasping. What followed next was too fast for me to register at once. Cass was by Jack, trying to help him, Dean was thrown to the side by Chuck and Sam had gotten the gun in his hands and shot Chuck in the shoulder.

"Fine!" Chuck shouted. "That's the way you want it? Story's over. Welcome to The End."

It suddenly switched from day to night, and Dean hurried over to help Sam up.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good."

Sam struggled to his feet, the brothers coming over to stand next to me. Cass was crouched on the ground next to Jack's body.

"Wait," I furrowed my brow. "I thought Chuck said that the gun was the only thing that could..."

I gestured vaguely to Jack's body on the ground.

"He's a writer," Cass stated. "Writers lie."

There was a loud rumbling sound, and I clutched onto Dean's arm as streaks of light started to shoot towards the sky. We looked around, watching as it happened several more times.

"What the hell is happening?!" Dean yelled.

"Souls," Cass breathed. "They're souls from- from Hell."

Several fissures like lightning bolts were shooting across the ground, crashing into tombstones. I moved closer to Dean as the dead started rising. We could only watch helplessly as the zombies surrounded us. Cass drew his angel blade while Dean moved away from me briefly to pull a few rods out of an iron fence, handing one each to Sam and I and keeping one for himself. We all stood back to back by Jack's body as the zombies closed in.