A/N: This is my first submission for the 2018 Louden Swain Fanfic Fanart Project! This is such a tough song to interpret, and I’ve enjoyed reading the other fics for this song from the past two years. I got a feeling about it a few months ago, and decided I wanted to attack it this year. Special thanks to @oriona75 who took my babbling about free will vs. destiny and centered it in a season of the show. Mega beta thanks to @littlegreenplasticsoldier@manawhaat and @andromytta who all read this and ripped it up like I asked them to. Ali, in particular, helped me build a whole backstory for her, which I ended up not even using. Such is writing, I guess. Please, let me know if you find any errors or have feedback! I’m always extra nervous about the ones Rob will read! Thanks!
Summary: Chuck is challenged by his editor while he’s writing the final chapter of The Winchester Gospel.
Pairing: Chuck x Reader, sort of, but not really. It’s not romantic.
Warning: I can’t think of anything. Excessive liquid metaphors. Maybe go pee before you read this.
While Chuck stammers his way through an explanation of who Mistress Magda is, you pick up the messy notepad where he jots down his notes. You can hear Dean through the phone line, telling Chuck how Sam had said yes to Lucifer, his voice barely a croak- tense and nearly broken. As Chuck gives Dean the information he needs to find his brother, you read through the outline, hearing Chuck’s lie as he says it.
“I wish that I did. But I-I just—I honestly don’t know, yet.”
The bottom of the page in your hand says differently. Dean is left alone to bury the remains of his best friend, his surrogate father, and the memory of his fallen brother. Only his guilt at failing everyone stays by his side. Your breath catches and your eyes sting.
Chuck hangs up the phone, the sound igniting righteous fury in your chest.
“Liar!!” you accuse, blinking away tears.
Chuck doesn’t deny it. His gaze is steady, his breath even, though his eyes are sad when they meet yours. “You’re right. But he doesn’t need to know in advance what’s coming. Knowing won’t change anything.”
Slamming the notepad on the table, you shoot him your fiercest glare. “But you could. You could change all of it. With just a thought, you could cage Lucifer. Even better, you could change him! Make him the good and righteous leader he was supposed to be!” Stabbing the air near him with your finger, you finish your rant with, “You MADE this happen, and you can unmake it just as easily!”
Chuck simply frowns as your chest rises with emotion. He pours himself another glass of whiskey, letting the bottle hit the table a bit harder than it needs to.
“Hey, you created me for this. Don’t go getting mad when I do my job,” you grumble.
Chuck sighs. “I know. I just didn’t expect you to be so good at it,” he says, chuckling wryly into his glass.
