Air Date: 2 Apr 2009

INT. Chuck's HOME – NIGHT

Chuck is sprawled on a couch sleeping with papers clutched to his chest; the coffee table is littered with unfinished food and drinks. He is in the throes of an intense dream: we see quick flashes of Sam and Dean, the Impala, and Chuck himself. Cut to: INT. COMIC BOOK SHOP – DAY

A man takes a comic book off the shelf as we pan across to the door, where Dean and Sam are entering. They are in suits and long black coats: FBI costumes. The man behind the counter looks up as they approach and take out their badges.

Man Behind Counter: Uh... can I help you?

Dean: Sure hope so. Agents DeYoung and Shaw. Just need to ask you a few questions.

Sam: Notice anything strange in the building, last couple of days?

Man Behind Counter: Like what?

Dean: Well, some other tenants reported flickering lights.

Man Behind Counter: Uh, I don't think so. Why?

Sam: What about noises? Any skittering in the walls? Kind of like rats?

Man Behind Counter: (skeptical)

And the FBI is investigating a rodent problem?

Sam: What about cold spots? Feel any sudden drops in temperature?

Man Behind Counter: (grinning)

I knew it! You guys are LARPing, aren't you?

Dean: Excuse me?

Man Behind Counter: You're fans.

Sam: Fans of what?

Dean: What is "LARPing"?

Man Behind Counter: Like you don't know.

(off their confused looks)

Live-Action Role-Play! And pretty hardcore, too.

Dean: I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're talking about.

Man Behind Counter: You're asking questions like the building's haunted. Like those guys from the books. What are they called? Uh... "Supernatural." Two guys, use fake IDs with rock aliases, hunt down ghosts, demons, vampires. What are their names? Uh... Steve and Dirk? Uh, Sal and Dane?

Sam: Sam and Dean?

Man Behind Counter: That's it!

Dean: You're saying this is a book?

Man Behind Counter: Books. It was a series. Didn't sell a lot of copies, though. Kind of had more of an underground cult following.

(he goes over to a table labeled "Bargain Bin". Sam and Dean follow.)

Let's see. Um... Ah. Yeah

(hands Dean a book)

That's the first one, I think.

Dean: (reading the cover of the book)

"Supernatural" by Carver Edlund.

(he flips the book over, reads the back cover)

"Along a lonely California highway, a mysterious woman in white lures men to their deaths."

Sam: (grabbing the book)

Give me that.

(to the Man)

We're gonna need all the copies of "Supernatural" you've got.

An altered title sequence follows, with illustrations from the book that include Romance-novel-style illustrations of Sam, Dean, and other characters and ending with the title card: SUPERNATURAL

By Carver Edlund

INT. MOTEL ROOM – NIGHT

We pan across a motel bed strewn with copies of the book series. The episode title appears: "THE MONSTER AT THE END OF THIS BOOK"

Dean is reclining on the bed, flipping through a book and frowning. Sam is seated by the window with his laptop.

Dean: This is freakin' insane. How's this guy know all this stuff?

Sam: You got me.

Dean: (he gets up and crosses to Sam)

How come we haven't heard of them before?

Sam: They're pretty obscure. 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 turns the laptop towards Dean, displaying a web site listing the books)

Ends with you going to hell.

Dean: I reiterate. Freaking insane.

(browsing the site)

Check it out. There's actually fans. There's not many of them, but still. Did you read this?

Sam: Yeah.

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

Sam: Yeah. Well, keep on reading. It gets better.

Dean: There are "Sam girls" and "Dean girls" and – what's a "slash fan"?

Sam: As in... Sam-slash-Dean. Together.

Dean: Like, together together?

Sam: Yeah.

Dean: They do know we're brothers, right?

Sam: Doesn't seem to matter.

Dean: Oh, come on. That... That's just sick.

(he shuts the laptop in disgust)

We got to find this Carver Edlund.

Sam: Yeah, that might not be so easy.

Dean: Why not?

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

Dean: Somebody's gotta know who he is.

INT. Publisher's HOUSE – DAY

Sam and Dean are meeting with the publisher of the "Supernatural" series: a young, attractive woman in a long sweater. She is eager but appears both a little nervous and somewhat skeptical of their intentions.

Sam: So you published the "Supernatural" books?

Publisher: Yep. 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."?

(scoffs)

Please.

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

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

Dean: No, no, no, no. 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.

Publisher: (getting very emotional)

Oh, my god! That was one of my favorite ones, because Dean was so... strong... and sad and brave. And Sam... I mean, the best parts are when they'd cry. You know, like in – In "Heart," when Sam had to k*ll Madison, the first woman since Jessica he really loved. And in "Home," when Dean had to call John and ask him for help.

(she turns away)

Gosh... if only real men were so open and in touch with their feelings.

Dean: Real men?

Publisher: I mean, no offense. How often do you cry like that, hmm?

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

Publisher: Is that supposed to be funny?

Dean: Lady, this whole thing is funny.

Publisher: How do I know you two are legit, hmm?

Dean: Oh, trust me. We, uh... we're legit.

Publisher: Well, I don't want any smart-ass article making fun of my boys.

Sam: No! No, no, no. Never. (stammering)

Dean: No, that's...

Sam: We – We are actually, um... big fans.

Publisher: Hmm. You've read the books?

Dean: Cover to cover.

Sam: Um-hmm.

Publisher: What's the year and model of the car?

Dean: It's a 1967 Chevy Impala.

Publisher: What's May 2nd?

Sam: That's my – Uh... that's Sam's birthday.

Dean: January 24th is Dean's.

Publisher: Sam's score on the LSAT?

Sam: One...

(looking at Dean, at a loss)

Seventy-four?

Publisher: Dean's favorite song?

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

Publisher: Okay. Okay. What do you want to know?

Sam: What's Carver Edlund's real name?

Publisher: Oh, no. I – No. Sorry, I can't do that.

Sam: We just want to talk to him. You know, get the "Supernatural" story in his own words.

Publisher: He's very private. It's like Salinger.

Sam: Please. Like I said – we are, um...

Off Sam's pointed look, Dean rolls his eyes and displays his own tattoo. The woman licks her lips.

Publisher: Awesome. You know what?

(she turns around and hikes up her skirt, showing them something off-camera.

I got one, too.

Dean: Whoa. You are a fan.

Publisher: Okay.

(she scribbles something on a pad of paper)

His name's Chuck Shurley. And he's a genius, so don't piss him off.

INT. Chuck's HOME – DAY

We begin on a close sh*t of a printer, which is spitting out several pages. Chuck comes into view wearing boxers, an undershirt, and a bathrobe, and stuffing the end of a slice of pizza in his mouth. He sits at the desk, pulls the pages from the printer, and clears his throat.

Chuck: (reading)

"Sam and Dean approached the run-down..."

(sighs, makes a correction on the page)

"...approached the ramshackle house with trepidation."

EXT. Chuck's HOME – DAY

Dean and Sam get out of the Impala.

Chuck (V.O): "Did they really want to learn the secrets that lay beyond that door?"

Sam and Dean stop in front of the door, share a look, and shrug.

Chuck (V.O): "Sam and Dean traded soulful looks."

INT. Chuck's HOME – DAY

Chuck (continuing)

"Then, with determination, Dean pushed the doorbell with forceful... determination."

(tosses the pages down in frustration)

Ugh!

(The doorbell rings. He looks up, nervous, then goes to answer it)

Dean: You Chuck Shurley?

Sam: The Chuck Shurley who wrote the "Supernatural" books?

Chuck: Maybe. Why?

Dean: I'm Dean. This is Sam. The Dean and Sam you've been writing about.

(Chuck closes the door. Dean rings the bell again and Chuck opens the door.)

Chuck: Look, uh... I appreciate your enthusiasm. 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 tries to shut the door, but Dean puts out a hand to stop it.)

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

(He shoves the door open and enters, forcing Chuck to back up into the house.)

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

Dean: Damn straight, it's not funny.

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

Chuck: I'm not doing anything.

Dean: Are you a hunter?

Chuck: What? No. I'm a writer.

Dean: Then how do you know so much about demons?

(he advances on Chuck, who falls onto the couch)

And Tulpas, and changelings?

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

Dean: No, it's not a "Misery" thing. Believe me, we are not fans!

Chuck: Well, then, what do you want?!

Sam: I'm Sam. And that's Dean.

Chuck: Sam and Dean are fictional characters. I made them up! They're not real!

EXT. Chuck's HOME – DAY

Dean opens the trunk of the Impala, displaying the arsenal. We pan up to Chuck's shocked face.

Chuck: Are those real g*n?

Dean: Yup. This is real rock salt, these are real fake IDs.

Chuck: Well, I got to hand it to you guys. You really are my number one fans.

(still very nervous)

That's, that's awesome. So, I-I think I've got some posters in the house.

Dean: Chuck, stop.

Chuck: Please. Wait. Please, don't hurt me.

Sam: How much do you know? Do you know about the angels? Or Lilith breaking the seals?

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

Dean: The question is how do you.

Chuck: Because I wrote it?

Sam: You kept writing?

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

Dean: Well, nice to meet you. I'm Dean Winchester, and this is my brother, Sam.

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

INT. Chuck's HOUSE – DAY

Chuck pours himself a large whisky and gulps it down, then sets the glass on the kitchen sink. He turns around, sees Sam and Dean, and groans.

Chuck: Oh! Oh, you're still there.

Dean: Yup.

Chuck: You're not a hallucination.

Dean: Nope.

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

Sam: You're not a god.

Chuck: How else do you explain it? 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.

Dean: Yeah, we're still in one piece.

Chuck: I k*lled your father. I b*rned your mother alive. And then you had to go through the whole horrific deal again with Jessica.

Sam: Chuck...

Chuck: All for what? All for the sake of literary symmetry. I toyed with your lives, your emotions, for... entertainment.

Dean: You didn't toy with us, Chuck, okay? You didn't create us.

Chuck: Dean: Yeah.

Chuck: Dean: Yes, that too.

Chuck: 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.

Dean: Chuck, you're not a god!

Sam: We think you're probably just psychic.

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

Sam: It seems that somehow, you're just... focused on our lives.

Dean: Yeah, like laser-focused. Are you working on anything right now?

Chuck: (realizing something)

Holy crap.

Sam: What?

Chuck: (picks up the pages he was reading earlier)

The, uh, latest book? It's, uh, it's kind of weird.

Sam: "Weird" how?

Chuck: It's very Vonnegut.

Dean: (intently)

"Slaughterhouse-Five" Vonnegut or "Cat's Cradle" Vonnegut?

Sam: (surprised)

What?

Dean: (defensively)

What?

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

INT. LAUNDROMAT – NIGHT

Sam is doing laundry as Dean sits nearby, reading Chuck's latest manuscript.

Dean: I'm sitting in a laundromat, reading about myself sitting in a laundromat reading about myself. My head hurts.

Sam: There's got to be something this guy's not telling us.

(Sam turns to toss his darks into the machine. Dean continues reading.)

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

Sam: Stop it.

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

(Sam turns away, scowling.)

"Sam turned his back on Dean, 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 sighs, exasperated. Dean looks down at the manuscript.)

You just thought I was a dick.

Sam: (turns around looking impressed.)

The guy's good.

INT. Chuck's HOUSE – NIGHT

END ACT ONE

INT. Chuck's HOUSE – DAY

Sam and Dean are back, and Chuck paces nervously, as if building up the courage to speak. He holds more pages in his hands.

Sam: So... You wrote another chapter?

Chuck: This was all so much easier before you were real.

Dean: We can take it; just spit it out.

Chuck: You especially are not gonna like this.

Dean: I didn't like hell.

Chuck: It's Lilith. She's coming for Sam.

Dean: Coming to k*ll him?

Sam: When?

Chuck: Tonight.

Dean: She's just gonna show up? Here?

Chuck: (sits, puts his glasses on)

Uh... let's see, uh,

(reading from the manuscript)

"Lilith patted the bed seductively. Unable to deny his desire, Sam succumbed, and they sank into the throes of fiery demonic passion."

Sam: (laughs)

You're kidding me, right?

Dean: You think this is funny?

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

Chuck: It's just a first draft.

Dean: Wait, wait, wait, wait. Lilith is a little girl.

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

Dean: Great. Perfect. So what happens after the... "fiery demonic" whatever?

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

Sam: Dean, look, there's nothing to worry about. Lilith and me? In bed?

Dean: (glaring at Sam but speaking to Chuck)

How does this whole psychic thing of yours work?

Chuck: You mean my process?

Dean: Yes, your "process."

Chuck: Well, it usually starts with a headache. 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.

Dean: The first time you dreamt about us?

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

Sam: You can't seriously believe –

Dean: Humor me.

Dean: (He stands; Chuck holds up the manuscript for him.)

Look, why don't we, we just...

(he takes the manuscript)

Take a look at these and see what's what.

(to Chuck)

You –

Chuck: ...knew you were gonna ask for that. Yeah.

EXT. ROAD – DAY

Dean is driving. Sam sits beside him reading the latest chapter.

Sam: Dean, come on.

(reading)

"The minivan accident wasn't that bad, but Dean was still seeing stars. He scratched absently at the pink flower Band-Aids on his face."

Dean: So?

Sam: So, I've seen you gushing blood. You'd use duct tape and bar rags before you'd put on a pink flower Band-Aid.

Dean: What's your point?

Sam: My point is this – all of this – is totally implausible, it's nuts.

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

Sam: (scoffs, continues reading)

Huh. "Dean slid behind the wheel of his beloved Impala and drove off, the plastic tarp on the rear window flapping like the wings of a crow."

Dean: A tarp?

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

Dean: Well, he might be wrong about the details, but doesn't mean he's wrong about the end result.

Sam: So we're just gonna run?

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

They come to a roadblock and come to a stop. A Deputy leans over to talk to Dean.

Dean: What seems to be the problem?

Deputy: Bridge is out ahead.

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

Deputy: Yeah, afraid not.

Dean: Is there a detour?

Deputy: Nope.

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

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

Dean: How deep's the river?

Deputy: Sorry. Afraid you boys are gonna have to spend the night in town.

INT. DINER – NIGHT

Dean is now reading the manuscript as Sam looks over a menu.

Dean: Hey, this could be a good thing. I mean, if this is what puts us on the path to Lilith, then all we got to do is get off the path.

Sam: How do you mean?

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

Sam: Then we go right.

Dean: Exactly. 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. No research for you...

Sam: No bacon cheeseburger for you.

Dean: (looks slightly put out)

Yeah, no problem. I'll just order something else.

(the waitress approaches)

Hi, uh, what's good?

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

(Sam laughs)

Dean: Really?

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

Dean: I'll have the... veggie tofu burger. Thanks.

(She takes their menus and leaves.)

Sam: This whole thing's ridiculous.

Dean: Lilith is ridiculous?

Sam: The idea of me hooking up with her is.

Dean: Right. 'Cause something like that can never happen.

Sam: (starts to scowl, then controls himself.)

Dean, for the first time, we have warning that Lilith is close.

Dean: So?

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

Dean: Are you –

(trying very hard not to get angry)

It frustrates me when you say such reckless things.

Sam: Well, it frustrates me when you'd rather hide that fight.

Waitress: Cobb salad for you. And the tofu veggie burger for you.

Dean: Thank you.

(The waitress leaves; Dean leans in close.)

It's not hiding. It's being smart. It's picking your battles. This is a battle that we are not ready to fight.

(He takes a huge bite of his burger and his eyes widen in surprise.)

Oh, my god. This is delicious. Tofu is amazing!

Waitress: (approaching, flustered)

I am so sorry. I gave you the bacon cheeseburger by mistake.

(she takes his plate away)

Sam scowls.

EXT. TOREADOR MOTEL – DAY

Sam and Dean drive up to a very sleazy-looking motel and pull into the parking lot.

Sam: Dude, this place charges by the hour.

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

INT. TOREADOR MOTEL – DAY

Dean drops a bag on the bed and starts pulling out items. He takes a few small string-tied bags and places them around the room.

Sam: What are you doing?

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

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

Dean: (He reaches into Sam's bag and pulls out Sam's laptop, smiling.)

Sam: Oh, dude, come on.

Dean: Just call it a little insurance.

Sam: What are you gonna do?

Dean: Well, the pages say that I spend all day riding around in the Impala. So I'm gonna go park her. Behave yourself, would you? No homework. Watch some p*rn.

He smiles, pleased with himself, and leaves. Sam fumes.

EXT.– DAY

As Dean drives away from the motel, we pan up to the neon sign out front. The word "Toreador" sputters and several of the lights burn out. The remaining letters spell: RE D

ELSEWHERE, Dean parks the Impala and gets out. He checks the doors, then walks away across the street. Moments later, he looks back to see two teenagers attempting to break into the car. He runs towards them.

Dean: Hey!

A van careens towards him; he can't get out of the way in time, and it hits him. He is knocked to the ground, unconscious.

INT. "RE D MOTEL" – DAY

Sam opens the door to reveal Chuck.

Chuck: You wanted to see me?

Sam: Yeah.

Looking around shiftily, Sam opens the door wider and Chuck enters. He shuts the door behind him.

Sam: Thanks for coming.

Chuck: Ah, sure.

Sam: Um... I was just wondering how much you know. About me.

Chuck: What do you mean?

Sam: Have you seen visions of me when I'm not with Dean?

Chuck: Oh... You want to know if I know about the demon blood.

Sam: You didn't tell Dean.

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

Sam: Unsympathetic?

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

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

Chuck: But you keep going back.

Sam: What choice have I got? If it helps me k*ll Lilith and stop the apocalypse –

Chuck: I thought that was Dean's job. That's what the angels say, right?

Sam: Dean's not... he's not Dean lately. Ever since he got out of hell. He needs help.

Chuck: So you got to carry the weight?

Sam: Well, he's looked out for me my whole life. I can't return the favor?

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

Sam: What else would it be?

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

Sam: No. That's not true.

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

Sam: Does it? All rest on my shoulders?

Chuck: That seems to be where the story's headed.

Sam: Am I strong enough to stop Lilith tonight?

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

EXT. STREET – DAY

Dean wakes slowly, still lying in the middle of the road. A woman hovers above him; she has very long dangling earrings shaped like stars.

Woman: Oh my god. Just take it easy, you're gonna be okay.

Dean: (incoherently)

Stars.

Woman: What was that?

(He blinks and tries to raise his head.)

I'm so sorry. I just didn't see you. Are you okay?

(He sits up.)

And sorry about... you know.

(She indicates a young girl standing nearby.)

M-My daughter's going through a Doctor phase.

Dean: What are you talking about?

Girl: You're all better now.

We finally see the left side of Dean's face, which is covered in pink flowery Band-Aids. He looks across the street and stares in horror: The IMPALA's back window is shattered.

Dean: Oh, no...

He approaches the car, fuming. He catches a glimpse of himself in the side window and sees the Band-Aids. Frowning, he slowly peels one off.

CUT TO: EXT. ROAD – DAY

Dean drives along, still fuming. A tarp covers the rear window, flapping like the wings of a crow.

INT. Chuck's HOME – DAY

Chuck, carrying a bottle in a brown bag and six-pack of cans, unlocks the door to his house and enters. He walks in slowly and does not appear very surprised to find Dean sitting in his living room.

Chuck: Dean.

Dean: I take it you knew I'd be here.

Chuck: You look terrible.

Dean: That's 'cause I just got h*t by a minivan, Chuck.

Chuck: Oh.

Dean: That it? Every damn thing you write about me comes true; that's all you have to say is "oh"?!

Chuck: Please don't yell at me.

Dean: Why do I get feeling there's something that you're not telling us?

Chuck: What wouldn't I be telling you?

Dean: How you know what you know, for starters!

Chuck: I don't know how I know, I just do!

Dean: That's not good enough.

(He shoves Chuck against the wall.)

How the hell are you doing this?!

Castiel: (appearing out of nowhere, as usual)

Dean, let him go!

(Dean releases Chuck and turns to face Castiel.)

This man is to be protected.

Dean: Why?

Castiel: He's a Prophet of the Lord.

END ACT TWO

Chuck: You... You're Castiel... aren't you?

Castiel: It's an honor to meet you, Chuck. I... admire your work.

Castiel picks up one of the books and starts paging through it.

Dean: Whoa, whoa, what? This guy, a prophet? Come on, he's – he's... he's practically a Penthouse Forum writer.

(to Chuck)

Did you know about this?

Chuck has stumbled over to his armchair; he cracks open a fresh bottle of whisky and pours himself some.

Chuck: I, uh, I might have dreamt about it.

Dean: And you didn't tell us?!

Chuck: It was too preposterous. Not to mention arrogant. I mean, writing yourself into the story is one thing, but as a prophet? That's like M. Night-level douchiness.

He finishes this tirade and desperately gulps down the whisky.

Dean: (more quietly, to Castiel)

This is the guy who decides our fate?

Castiel: He isn't deciding anything. He's a mouthpiece – a conduit for the inspired word.

Dean: The word? The word of god? What, like the new new testament?

Castiel: One day, these books – they'll be known as the Winchester gospel.

Dean and Chuck (unison)

You got to be kidding me.

Castiel: I am not... kidding you.

Chuck: If you'd both please excuse me one minute.

He stands, still clutching the bottle, and disappears upstairs.

Dean: Him? Really?

Castiel: You should've seen Luke.

Dean: Why'd he get tapped?

Castiel: I don't know how prophets are chosen. The order comes from high up on the celestial chain of command.

Dean: How high?

Castiel: Very.

Dean: Well, whatever. How do we get around this?

Castiel: Around what?

Dean: The Sam-Lilith love connection. How do we stop it from happening?

Castiel: What the prophet has written can't be unwritten. As he has seen it, so it shall come to pass.

EXT. "RE D MOTEL" - NIGHT

Dean drives to the motel, parks, and gets out of the car. He notices that the altered sign now reads as Chuck's manuscript predicted. He shakes his head and goes to the room.

INT. MOTEL ROOM - NIGHT

Dean: Come on. We're getting out of here.

Sam: What? Where?

Dean: Anywhere, okay? Out of this motel, out of this town. I don't care if we got to swim, we are getting out.

(He looks around, confused.)

Dude, where are all the hex bags?

Sam: I b*rned them.

Dean: You what?

Sam: Look, if Lilith is coming, which is a big "if" –

Dean: No, no, no. It's more than an "if." Chuck is not a psychic. He's a prophet.

Sam: What?

Dean: Cas showed up, and apparently Chuck is writing the gospel of us.

Sam: Okay.

Dean: Okay. Let's get the hell out of here.

Sam: No.

Dean: Lilith is gonna slaughter you.

Sam: Maybe she will, maybe she won't.

Dean: So what? You think you can take her?

Sam: Only one way to find out, Dean, and I say bring her on.

Dean: Sam...

Sam: You think I'll do it, don't you? You think I'll go dark side.

Dean: Yes! Okay? Yes. The way you've been acting lately? The things you've been doing?

(Sam looks up, startled.)

Oh, I know. How you ripped Alastair apart like it was nothing, like you were swatting a fly. Cas told me, okay?

Sam: What else did he tell you?

Dean: Nothing I don't already know. That you've been using your psychic crap, and you've been getting stronger. We just don't know why, and we don't know how.

Sam: It's not what you think.

Dean: Then what is it, Sam? 'Cause I'm at a total loss.

(He grabs his bag and heads for the door. He stops and looks back.)

Are you coming or not?

Sam: No.

Dean turns back to the door, pauses again, then drops the bag forcefully on a chair by the door before leaving.

EXT. "RE D MOTEL" PARKING LOT – NIGHT

Dean drops coins into a soda machine, fuming. He takes a step back and looks around.

Dean: Well, I feel stupid doing this. But... I am fresh out of options. So please. I need some help. I'm praying, okay? Come on. Please.

Castiel: Prayer is a sign of faith. This is a good thing, Dean.

Dean: So does that mean you'll help me?

Castiel: I'm not sure what I can do.

Dean: Drag Sam out of here, now. Before Lilith shows up.

Castiel: It's a prophecy. I can't interfere.

Dean: You have tested me and thrown me every which way. And I have never asked for anything. Not a damn thing. But now I'm asking. I need your help. Please.

Castiel: What you're asking, it's... not within my power to do.

Dean: Why? 'Cause it's "divine prophecy"?

Castiel: Yes.

Dean: So, what – We're just supposed to sit around and, and wait for it to happen?

Castiel: I'm sorry.

Dean: Screw you. You and your mission. Your God. If you don't help me now, then when the time comes and you need me... don't bother knocking.

Dean brushes past Castiel and begins to walk away, but he stops at Castiel's voice.

Castiel: Dean. Dean.

Dean: What?!

Castiel: You must understand why I can't intercede. Prophets are very special. They're protected.

Dean: I get that.

Castiel: If anything thr*at a prophet, anything at all, an archangel will appear to desTroy that thr*at. Archangels are fierce. They're absolute. They're heaven's most terrifying w*apon.

Dean: And these archangels, they're tied to prophets?

Castiel: Yes.

Dean: So if a prophet was in the Same room as a demon –

Castiel: Then the most fearsome wrath of heaven would rain down on that demon. Just so you understand... why I can't help.

Dean: Thanks, Cas.

Castiel: Good luck.

INT. Chuck's HOUSE – NIGHT

Chuck is sprawled on his couch when Dean enters; this time, Chuck does look surprised to see him.

Chuck: What are you doing here? I didn't write this.

Dean: (manhandling him)

Come on. I need you to come with me.

Chuck: What? Where?

Dean: To the motel where Sam is.

Chuck: That's where Lilith is.

Dean: Yeah, exactly. I need you to stop her.

Chuck: Are you insane? Lilith? I know what she's capable of, Dean. I wrote her.

Dean: All right, listen to me. You have an archangel tethered to you, okay? All you got to do is show up and boom! Lilith gets smoked.

Chuck: But I-I haven't seen that yet. Th-the story –

Dean: Chuck, you're the only sh*t that I've got left.

Chuck: But... I'm just a writer.

Dean: This isn't a story anymore, man. This is real! And you're in it! Now, I need you to get off your ass and fight. Come on, Chuck.

Chuck: No friggin' way.

Dean: Okay, well, then, how about this – I've got a g*n in my pocket, and if you don't come with me, I'll blow your brains out.

Chuck: I thought you said I was protected by an archangel.

Dean: Well, interesting exercise. Let's see who the quicker draw is.

INT. MOTEL ROOM - NIGHT

Sam hears a knock at the door and approaches it slowly. He turns the handle carefully, then flings the door open. The doorway is empty. He closes the door, turns around and sees: Lilith

Hello, Sam.

Sam: I've been waiting for you.

Her eyes turn white.

END ACT THREE

Lilith: Where's the Kn*fe, Sam?

Sam: On the nightstand. By the bed.

Lilith begins walking toward the bed, then stops. She stoops down and lifts the rug: beneath it is a Devil's Trap. She rolls her eyes and touches the edge of it with a finger; the mark flares and burns away. She stands to face Sam.

Lilith: You're gonna have to try a lot harder than that.

Sam: How 'bout this?

He reaches out a hand and concentrates; a wind rises and blows her hair back, but he has no other effect on her.

Lilith: You're strong. But you're not that strong. Not yet.

Sam: So why don't you throw me around then?

Lilith: Because I can't, and you know it. You're immune to my charms. Seems we're at a stalemate.

Sam: Why are you here?

Lilith: To talk.

Sam: (scoffs)

Yeah, well, I'm not interested.

Lilith: Hmm... even if I'm offering to stand down? From the seals... the apocalypse... all of it?

Sam: You expect me to believe that?

Lilith: Honestly? No. You were always the smart one. But it's the truth. You can end it, Sam. Right here, right now. I'll stop breaking seals, Lucifer keeps rotting in his cage. All you have to do is agree to my terms.

Sam: Why would you back down? Why now?

Lilith: Turns out, I don't survive this w*r. k*lled off, right before the good part starts.

Sam: What do you want?

Lilith: For it to go back to the way it was. Before I had angels to deal with 24/7. The good old days, when it was all baby blood all the time.

Sam: And what do you want in return?

Lilith: Your head on a stick. Dean's, too. Call it a consolation prize. So what do you say, Sam? Self-sacrifice is the Winchester way, isn't it?

Sam: You really think I'm stupid enough to fall for this?

Lilith: I make a deal, I have to follow through. Those are the rules, and you know it. Are you really so arrogant that you would put your life before the lives of six billion innocent people? Maybe it's all that demon blood pumping through your pipes. Man after my own heart.

Sam: You think I'm like you? I am nothing like you.

Lilith: Then prove it. Going once.

(She turns and walks to the bed)

Going twice.

Sam: Fine.

Lilith: (She turns back.)

Swell. By the way, a contract with me will take more than a kiss.

(She sits on the bed.)

A lot more. Don't worry. The dental hygienist in here? She wants it bad.

(She pats the bed.)

Sam approaches; Lilith runs a hand up his leg as her eyes turn white. She takes him by the collar and pulls him down on top of her. When he gets close enough, he grabs the Kn*fe and tries to s*ab her with it. She counters his att*ck and flips him over, grabbing the Kn*fe. Before she can att*ck, the door bursts open and Dean and Chuck enter.

Chuck: I am the prophet Chuck!

Lilith: You've got to be joking.

She leaves Sam and approaches Chuck.

Dean: Oh, this is no joke.

(The room begins to tremble, and a great white light pours in through the windows. This builds over the following.)

You see, Chuck here's got an archangel on his shoulder. You've got about 10 seconds before this room is full of wrath and you're a piece of charcoal. You sure you want to tangle with that?

Lilith gives Sam one last look, then pours screaming out of her vessel's mouth.

END ACT FOUR

EXT. ROAD – NIGHT

Dean is driving, Sam is in the passenger's seat. The rear window is still busted, still clumsily covered in a tarp flapping in the wind.

Dean: So a deal, huh?

Sam: That's what she said.

Dean: To call the whole thing off – angels, seals, Lucifer rising, the whole nine?

Sam: That was the gist of it.

Dean: Huh.

Sam: What?

Dean: You didn't think once about taking it?

Sam: You kidding me? Dude, you spent all day trying to talk me off the Lilith track.

Dean: I'm just saying...

Sam: She would have found some way to weasel out of it. And all it would have cost us was our lives.

Dean: Yeah, I guess you're right.

Sam: Anyway, that's not the point.

Dean: What's the point?

Sam: The point is, she's scared. I could see it. Lilith is running.

Dean: Running from what?

Sam: Don't know. But she was telling the truth about one thing.

Dean: What's that?

Sam: She's not gonna survive the apocalypse. I'll make sure of that.

INT. Chuck's HOUSE - NIGHT

Chuck is asleep on the couch, having another dream. We don't see what he's seeing. He wakes suddenly, violently.

Zachariah: Did you see it?

Chuck: Who are you?

Zachariah: I'm Zachariah. You may know me from your work.

Chuck: What do you want?

Zachariah: Did you see it?

Chuck: (he nods)

Is it true? Is all of that... really going to happen?

Zachariah: Have you been wrong so far?

Chuck: (getting up and heading for a door)

I've got to warn Sam and Dean.

Zachariah: I wouldn't advise it. People shouldn't know too much about their own destiny. You try... and I'll stop you.

(Chuck stops; then starts going off in another direction)

Where are you going?

Chuck: To go k*ll myself.

Zachariah: Don't be melodramatic, Chuck. We'd only bring you back to life.

Chuck: What am I supposed to do?

Zachariah: What you always do. Write.

END EPISODE
{"type": "series", "show": "Supernatural", "episode": "04x18 - The Monster at the End of This Book"}