Chapter Text
Chuck Shurley tapped out the last paragraph of his book, staring at the screen intensely. But his furrowed brow slowly began unknotting as the words seemed to come out rather simply for it being the end of his series….
“So what's it all add up to? It's hard to say. But me, I'd say this was a test... for Sam and Dean. And I think they did all right. Up against, Good, Evil, angels, devils, Destiny, and God himself, they made their own choice. They chose family. And, well... isn't that kinda the whole point? No doubt - endings are hard. But then again... nothing ever really ends, does it?” (Taken from 5.22 Swan Song)
Chuck took his nearly empty glass in his hand and tipped it back against his chapped lips as he sank back into his chair. He was tired, but felt surprisingly light and refreshed as the tingle of alcohol sat on his tongue. He was going to miss this. The long days and nights that melded together as he sat hunched in front of his computer, or slumped in frustration on his couch dozing through the summer afternoons of heat induced sluggishness. He would miss the occasional home invasions, or the moments where he really hated being a prophet. He would miss those damn Winchesters, and the Angels, and damn it he was even going to miss a demon or two as well. He would miss Supernatural. He would miss the headaches and hangovers. He couldn’t explain it but as he sat there in his old worn out chair at his desk, he somehow knew his work was over. He knew it was finished. And as Chuck set his empty glass back down on his cleared desk, he smiled and was content. He could rest now…
But it couldn’t be that simple could it? Because just as the writer felt his resolve he vanished into nothingness and opened his eyes in a house he didn’t recognize, in a bed he didn’t know, in clothes he didn’t own.
“What the hell?” Chuck said softly his voice cracking a little bit as he felt his relaxed shoulders tense up again. He resisted the urge to puke as his stomach twisted and churned and he looked around the unfamiliar room for anything to help him get his bearings on where he was. He saw a cell phone on a nightstand and picked it up flipping it around in his hands. There was a name engraved on the metal backing, it read: “Robert Benedict, Beloved Husband. From: Mollie.”
“Husband?!” Chuck squeaked a little too loud to be indiscrete, and slapped his hand over his mouth. ‘Oh God, I’m not in some married dudes bedroom, or having an affair with this guys wife! How the hell did I get here? I didn’t drink THAT much did I?’ Chuck stared wide eyed at his feet trying to recall anything that happened between the blank spot in his memories between finishing his book and waking up here. For the life of him he couldn’t think of anything. Book, Booze… nothing. Book, Booze…. nothing. He couldn’t remember a thing. And then the phone rang. Chuck jumped at the shrill pings and trills of notes, and tried to steady his hands as he flipped the phone around to look at the caller ID.
“Richard? Now who’s Richard?!” Chuck debated what to do but didn’t have to think too long because it went to voicemail after about 5 rings. He waited for a minute not sure if he should listen to ‘Robert’s’ voicemail. But he needed something to go off of. He didn’t know where he was, and maybe something in this phone would help him figure out what the hell he was doing in a really nice, clean house, in a king sized bed that clearly had two nightly occupants, and he was apparently one of them last night. Ever so reluctantly he unlocked the phone screen which luckily didn’t have a pass code and went to the voicemail, pressing play and held it close to his ear.
The voicemail began: “Hey Rob. It’s Rich. I've been at the café awhile now. I'm still waiting for you. It’s not nice to make your dates wait you know. Hope everything’s all right. Call me back when you get this, okay? Thanks, Bye.” The voicemail seemed pretty simple. But it left Chuck to wonder if the owner of the phone wasn’t here, or at least didn’t have his phone on him, then why wasn’t he where he was supposed to be today? Chuck sat there for a minute trying to think of other ways this could make sense, but opted that getting out of this strange house was the most important thing right now. So Chuck stood up and walked over to the window to look out at his surroundings.
“Palm trees?” Chuck said quite baffled and swiped the phone screen again to bring up the GPS map. As he waited for the map to load his location he tapped his foot and looked around the room nervously. He knew he should get going but he wanted to gather as much information as he could before leaving. When the map loaded his location he was so shocked it took all of his concentration to not yell out loud how flabbergasted he was! “I’m in California??? That’s like HELLA far away from my house. Shit.” He shouted under his breath.
He looked around, and then darted to the door. He decided to take the cell phone with him. Just in case. He had no money on him and he was still wearing his white shirt and jeans from home. “Well at least I'm not in my robe and boxers. That would be kind of awkward.” He whispered to himself and cracked open the door careful not to make too much noise. He wasn’t sure if he was in the house alone, but he didn’t want to find out the hard way. When he saw no one in the hall of the upstairs he stepped out, careful not to make the floor creak or shift. But since he didn’t know the floors, that probably wouldn’t work very well. Still, he would try his best.
*Creeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak*
The floor sounded like a cat being murdered. He tensed up and paused, gritting his teeth and hoping no one would call out. Alas, no such luck. “Robert? Are you still home? I thought you had a little ‘date’ with Richard today?” A female said loudly enough to be heard up the stairs.
‘Crud.’ Chuck thought as he stood still. He knew he couldn’t say nothing or she would come and investigate. There didn’t seem to be any other way out of this house besides going downstairs, and for all he knew, he was an unwanted intruder in this house. But he had been sleeping in their bed…. So he had to try something. “Uh…..” he stuttered. ‘Oh, great start Chuck. Way to be a man.’ He scolded himself. “Uh, yeah… Just running a little late because I couldn’t find my phone.” Chuck said. Maybe with his luck his voice would sound like this Robert’s voice and he could still sneak out.
“Did you find it? I thought I saw it on the bedside table this morning when I got up for work.” She called out again. She didn’t seem suspicious. Not even a bit…. Strange.
“Um, yeah. I found it. Guess it just fell on the floor while I was sleeping.” Chuck said slowly, trying to find the most believable story to tell.
The woman could faintly be heard chuckling under her breath before replying with another comment. “Yeah, well you did toss and turn more than usual last night. I almost got kicked in the shin!” She said and giggled louder.
“Yup… That’s me, nothing but Jell-O limbs.” Chuck said and slowly began to step towards the stairs and began walking down slowly.
“Oh, Rob, will you be home for dinner tonight or do you think you and Rich will be out late?” She inquired. Then Chuck could hear footsteps on linoleum turn into clicks on hardwood. The very same hardwood he saw at the base of the stairs. He retreated back up a few steps and then he saw her. Golden brown hair, brilliant white teeth, a woman’s business suit, and well, minus the kitchen knife in hand, she was a vision. The perfect woman he’d say. “I’m thinking about making Roast Beef, but if you won’t be home I don’t want to make a big meal just to put it in Tupperware.” Chuck could hear her talking but all he could focus on was how beautiful she was. “Rob? Did you hear me? You look kind of spaced out… Did you oversleep?”
“Um, yeah. Kind of. I’m not sure when I’ll be home. Why are you calling me Rob?” Chuck asked rather confused and as much as he should probably just get the hell out of there, whoever this ‘Rob’ guy was, he was a lucky bastard to have her.
The woman looked a bit confused but just gave him a funny grin and said “Oh, sorry ROBERT, I guess it’s just because everyone at those conventions call you ‘Rob’. I didn’t realize I had picked it up from them. Does it bother you?” She questioned and began to step towards the stairs. Chuck took that as his cue to bolt down the steps and slide past her to the door across from the landing at the base of the stairs.
“Y-yeah, kinda. But just when you say it.” He said, trying to act casual as he slipped on a pair of brown men’s shoes. Surprisingly they fit his feet perfectly and he didn’t even have to untie the laces. “Well I’ve got to dash…. Um…. See you later…” He said it more like a question but he didn’t know what else to say, and it was already really strange so he just turned the knob and went to dip out of the house.
But just then he felt a hand on his shoulder and she spun him around and planted a kiss on his lips. Tender, and loving, and he blinked his shock wide open eyes a few times before kissing back just a bit, then she pulled away and said. “You’re always rushing off somewhere. You know the kids probably run around less than you do. Try and take it easy Robert. I don’t need you going and collapsing on me again.” She stated seriously with an edge of jest as she twirled the pointed edge of the kitchen knife in his direction threateningly. He knew by the casual way she said it that it wasn’t a real threat, but just the same, he felt like he had walked into someone else’s life. And as weird and confusing as it was, it was also kind of nice. Well, at least he knew the kiss was super nice. He wasn’t sure about the whole ‘kids’ comment. And he didn’t plan to stick around long enough to find out. So he just nodded and stepped out the door, closing it behind himself.
“Phew!” He sighed and started to walk down the sidewalk to the street. He was in a nice little cul-de-sac area in what seemed to be an out of the way street near the heart of the city. Now, only thing left to do was figure out transportation.
“ROBERT! WAIT!” He heard the woman throw open the door and come high-heels a clicking towards him her hands clutching a couple items. “Honestly! You probably left your brain upstairs too, but here. You forgot your wallet AND your keys. You can’t get down to Espresso Cielo Café without your car!” She let out an exasperated sigh as she grabbed Chucks hand and shoved the keys into his palm and slid the wallet into his back pocket and kind of patted his butt a bit after it had been properly placed into his jeans. Chuck jumped a little when she did that. But he still stood there, completely silent in shock. She had just handed over a full wallet and car keys to him, and he didn’t have a clue why. Honestly, the more he knew, the more he DIDN’T know.
“Th-thanks….” He said and glanced around to see if he saw a car in the driveway that matched the key set he was holding.
“Are you okay Robert? You seem extra out of it today. Maybe you should call Richard and tell him you need to stay home. You can always reschedule your little outing right?”
“Uh, No! No… I um, I'm mean, I'm fine, I just have something I need to talk to him about… TODAY. And um, it can’t wait.” Chuck said. He didn’t know what he was saying but he knew it would only be worse if he stayed here. So he leaned forward and kissed her cheek, said “Thank you.” And scampered off to the car that lit up when he pushed the unlock button on the key.
“Drive safe! I love you.” She called out after him.
Boy, if that wasn’t strange and wonderful all at once, he didn’t know what the heck would equal what he felt right now. He sat in the car and pulled up the GPS map again. He decided maybe whoever these people thought he was, maybe he could use ‘Robert’s’ face to get more clues to how he got here. Heck at this point he thought maybe HE was the crazy one. Maybe he really WAS this Robert guy, and he just hit his head and got amnesia in the middle of the night. It was unlikely, but at this point, he didn’t really have any other ideas.
So he brought up the route to the “Cielo Café” and backed the car out of the driveway and drove to the café. Strangely enough, the radio was on a station he liked. And the song was one of his favorites, “If God Was One of Us” by Joan Osborne. He sang along to it and hummed along with the other countless songs that he got through before pulling up in front of the café. ‘You have reached your destination. Destination on left.’ The GPS voice stated promptly as he parked his car and plugged the meter with some spare change he found in the unused ashtray.
“All right ‘Robert’, time to go meet this ‘Richard’ guy.” Chuck said to himself as he walked up to the café entrance.