The small army of do gooders touched down just outside of the bunker, and as soon as Chuck's feet connected with the solid Earth, his face fell, his stomach bottomed out, and he swallowed hard. "I think our job just got a lot harder." He said to no one and everyone.
"What do you mean?" Mary asked as she stepped forward.
"Abbadon is gone."
"Well, hell, wasn't that part of the game plan?" John asked.
"Johnny, you don't understand. Chuck here, he's a prophet, when he says 'harder' he means damn near impossible. What happened Chuck? What do the boys need us to do?" Bobby asked readjusting his trucker cap on his balding skull.
"Dean is dead." Chuck blurted. Mary's hands went to her mouth, John stood more rigid, and the rest of the team starred wide eyed, except for Bobby, who shook his head.
"Come on, we all know that don't mean nothing in this world. Them boys, Dean especially, have been dead more than they've been alive in the last couple of years." Bobby sighed. "We just need to find us an angel, force him to do his magic and bam, Dean's back among the living."
"It's not that simple this time." Chuck said softly. He turned to face the crowd, his face grave, his eyes sad. "It appears that the Mark of Cain has finished its mission. Crowley had come to collect his prize."
"What in the hell are you talking about?" Ellen asked.
"Dean's soul has been corrupted." John supplied with grim realization. "They talked about it in hell. They hoped it would happen to me. They wanted me to become one of them, because wouldn't it be a hoot if the famous demon hunting John Winchester became a demon himself? I survived for a long time there, trying to keep myself…myself." John took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "The demons won. They got Dean."
"What do we do?" Mary asked. And the rest of the hunters began talking all at once, asking questions, suggesting possible outcomes, until Bobby finally said, "We need to talk to Sam."
"What can Sam do?" Ash asked.
"Probably everything." Mary said. "Those boys are connected."
"But I can guarantee you that boy is in no condition to do anything." Ellen said.
"Especially if he saw that Dean was a demon." Bobby included.
"Well, then, I guess we get my son off of his ass and back into the saddle." Mary said.
"Where is he?" John asked.
"Inside here." Chuck said pointing towards the bunker.
"Then I say we use some of your fancy magic and get our asses in there." Jo said. Chuck nodded, and as soon as he turned, he felt it, like a punch to the gut, a force so intense that he almost fell to the ground, his faltering steps gave him away, and John and Bobby were at his sides, helping him up.
"You okay Chuck?" Bobby asked.
"I'm fine, Sam isn't." Chuck took a deep breath. Coming to Earth clothed in a human disguise meant the father was subjected to all of the pains, the joys, the loves, the hates, the fears, the worries, the full gamut of human thoughts and feelings. And his children went through all of these emotions daily, and he normally would smile at their fortune, and empathize with their heartaches, because when he made these beings he knew that their lives would have a lot of each, and that their joys and pains would inspire them to do great things. However, when pain as intense as Sam's emanated, a pain so pure, so solid, so great, even the father, from his hiding spot, would be moved to do something about it.
So, being here, dressed in his human disguise, at the epicenter of the pain, and being connected to the Winchesters as he was, it was almost impossible to get himself together, to get himself to appear normal enough that his little army out here wouldn't panic, and that he could convince Sam, again, that he was nothing more than a prophet, took more effort than it ever had before.
Jessica came forward, Mary by her side. "Is Sam hurt?" Mary asked with all the concern that a mother, a mother who gave her life for her son, could ever express.
"Sam is okay in body, I think." Chuck said taking a deep breath.
"He's not okay emotionally." Jessica said.
"That, he is not."
"I could go in there and talk to him. I was the one who always talked him down at school." She offered.
"No. No. He thinks you're dead. Thinks all of you are dead. He doesn't need any more shocks to his system while he is like this." Chuck took one more deep breath and steadied himself on his feet. John and Bobby both slowly let go of the shorter man. "I will lead you to a place, and I need you guys to stay there, don't leave. Not until I come and get you, give you the all clear to see Sam. I want to do this slowly, so he doesn't lose any more of his sanity. Agreed?" A round of nods greeted him. "Okay. Let's go."
After shutting the door on the room with his small army tucked restlessly inside, Chuck headed towards the back of the bunker, where his supernatural hearing could detect the frantic heartbeats of Sam Winchester. As he approached he could hear the man wordlessly screaming, and he could hear the crash, bang, thud, of things being over turned, things being thrown, and things being smashed.
When he came upon Sam, it was in the midst of a tornado of the tall man's making. He had run out of things sitting on tables to throw, so he began throwing things that had already been thrown about the room. His wordless screams echoed through the underground safe house, his cries were full of anguish, anger, and anxiety.
Chuck cleared his throat, took a deep breath and said, "Sam." As calmly as anyone watching a 6 foot 5 inch angry, possibly insane, man could.
It didn't work. Chuck raised his voice and said, "Sam!" again. The wordless scream stopped and Sam whirled around and faced Chuck. The shorter man stepped back at the sight of Sam Winchester, his eyes were wild, red rimmed, his hair askew giving him a wild almost feral look about him, his clothes were stained with the blood of his brother and he was breathing heavily like a bull zeroing in on the red cape the bull fighter was holding.
Chuck was about to say something, when a projectile flew at his face, he ducked just in time, but when he stood back up there was a gun in his face.
"What the fuck are you?" Sam asked rather unceremoniously.
"It's me. Chuck Shurly?" he said putting his hands up in an 'I'm innocent please don't hurt me' gesture.
Sam pressed the gun into the tender skin of Chuck's forehead. "Chuck is dead. Kevin.." his voice cracked on the name. "Kevin was the replacement prophet."
"I never died. I just….left."
"You expect me to believe that? Really? I'm not some green hunter who just showed up on the scene."
"No you aren't. You are Sam Winchester, the vessel for Lucifer. You are the son of John and Mary Winchester, you are a man of letters by way of the Winchester side, and you are a hunter by way of the Campbells." Sam's gun hand began to shake.
"Anyone can know that." He whispered.
"I know that you have the amulet that you gave Dean in your pocket. I know that you carry it with you every single day, I know that you threw it away when you found out that Dean tricked you into letting Gadreel possess you, and I know that you only let it sit in the trash can for a day before you put it back in your pocket, because no matter how mad you were at Dean, no matter what you said to your brother, you didn't hate him, you didn't want him dead, you didn't want him gone." With each passing sentence Sam's eyes filled with tears, and by the end of the statement Sam broke. Tears flowed down his face and he began to sob like a child. He dropped the gun and put the heels of his hands into his eyes and screamed the anguish scream of someone who has lost half of themselves.