AN: Another chapter of SPN/Psych crossover! This actually focuses on Gus and Pamela, and how he's feeling about finding out God really is real. Lots of talking about religion. Rem-talking-to-Gus, because she's a fully powered angel, not like Cas and Woody. A little more light-hearted than the previous chapters, which were very angsty Lassiter chapters, mostly. And for those who do not know where she comes from, REM IS NOT AN OC! And the notebooks in the Reapers' Realm, Death's Library, are a real thing in Supernatural. Random Reapers know all the names and causes of death for every person ever and it's all written in a bunch of notebooks, which are more or less taken care of by the Queen of Death, a woman named Billie. Dean has about 100 books with different causes of death written down for him. "Burned to death by a red-haired witch" is my favorite cause of death. Rowena, my dear, you are so evil it's adorable. Also, McNab is an idiot. We all know this. A lovable, fluffy, happy idiot. Oh, and if you've seen ALL Psych episodes and S11 of Supernatural...you will know who the lawyer talking to McNab is. As for the multiverse, the Bad Place, and Dark Kaia the Dreamwalker...once again, spoilers for S13 and S14 of Supernatural if you haven't seen it. No problem if you don't plan on seeing it though. Rem explains it. No, Dobson and what Gus sees when he looks at him will never be addressed again. Dobson is more or less an NPC. He exists to be occasionally mentioned, never focused on.
Gus, basking in the afterglow of a passionate night with that sexy goddess, Pamela, walked into the police station, a cocky smile on his handsome face. Pamela was holding onto his shoulder with one hand and using her cane with the other. Occasionally, he felt that skilled hand snake down and give his bottom a nice, strong squeeze. Sweet God in Heaven, Pamela was the sexiest, sweetest, most forward woman he had ever met.
Since it was around noon, the station was quite busy. Shawn had called him and left a voicemail the other day. Something about McNab and...what had he said? Napkins? He couldn't remember. Shawn's telephone voice sucked. He'd decided to come down to the station himself the next night. After all, when Shawn had called, he'd been in the throes of passion for a third time. Pamela could go all night, and her psychic powers extended far beyond mere mind reading. She knew everything he liked. Everything he wanted. And she was more than happy to give it to him, and to ask for what SHE wanted. Damn, she was a goddess!
Gus shook off the oncoming arousal that images of his night with the blind goddess brought on. He was here to get to know more about the supernatural stuff. Particularly, God and angels and stuff. He'd always been a believer, a TRUE believer, but now...he was more than a true believer. He had proof right in front of his face. That coroner, who normally seemed like he was on drugs that made him extra stupid half the time, was actually an angel.
It...definitely changed his perspective on angels. And the way Pamela talked about Castiel, the gay, dirty-coat, blue-eyed angel. She talked about him as if he were a defective toy...and said he was an asshole, because he was the one who blinded her. And then never bothered to fix it. Apparently she was okay with it now, because it just increased her "inner eye"'s power. She could see things without having eyes. See...beyond, whatever the hell that meant. He'd also asked Father Wesley to meet him here, since this would give the Father proof of his religion, something Gus was sure he'd be happy to know.
Gus looked around. Shawn wasn't here? That was odd. Where the hell was he? Oh well. He wasn't really looking for Shawn. Just Woody. He wanted to hear more about Heaven. About angels. He felt a jab in his side. Pamela had stabbed him with the end of her cane. He couldn't tell, but she jerked her head in the direction of another woman.
The other woman...wow. What. Just...what. She had silver hair, with small, streaks of lavender, gold eyes, and dark purple lipstick. The pallid skin, whiter than any other white person he had ever seen, made the purple in her hair and on her lips stand out. Still, it was the eyes that really gave it away. He had never seen eyes that looked like literal gold. Metallic gold.
"An angel. With full power. I can see her true form," Pamela said softly, her head turned toward the white woman, "Odd, that...her true form isn't overwhelming or ugly at all, unlike Castiel's...the silvery hair and purple highlights...that seems to BE her true form. Go and speak with her. I'll be waiting."
Pamela pinched his ass, hard. Gus let out a grunt.
"Pamela...she kind of...scares me. Woody doesn't. I was just gonna ask him. Not this...weird one." Gus fidgeted with the edge of his pants pocket, the small knife inside not really going to protect him at all.
"She is powerful. But she is not malevolent. I can sense it. If you trust me, trust this angel. She...exudes kindness, I guess. It's a relief. An angel that isn't a monster. That doesn't look at us and think we're insects. How...interesting. I do think I will stay here, however. The last time I was face to face with an angel...I lost my eyes. Go on, Burton." Pamela gave him a little shove.
Gus looked at Pamela again. She was smiling and had her head tilted slightly, toward the pale woman.
"Alright...but, uh...is there any way to, you know, protect someone against angels? I really don't want to lose my eyes. Unlike you, I don't have a way to see without them," Gus gulped. He HAD trusted angels, but after learning Pamela's story, about how Castiel had taken her eyes...he was a little scared.
"It'll be okay. Trust me, Burton," Pamela said, pulling Gus into a deep kiss, her tongue flicking out, tasting his sweet, dark chocolate lips, "Mmm, so sweet...hurry up and talk to the angel...then maybe we can go back to your place, again."
Pamela slapped him on the ass as he turned to go talk to the silver haired angel woman. He took a deep breath. He would much rather be having steamy sex with Pamela than risking his eyes talking to an angel with full powers, not a harmless idiot like Woody….Zachariah...whatever. Gus sat down in front of the woman. She gave him a kind smile and reached out, running a pale, alabaster hand down his cheek.
"I won't hurt you. I promise. I used to take human lives...that used to be my job. It isn't anymore. I'm just an angel. And this body...it's mine. I didn't have to take a human vessel like Zachariah and Castiel. Father..gave me my own body," She said, still smiling softly. Her gold eyes gleamed with what almost appeared as actual light.
Gus licked his lips. He'd always KNOWN God was real, but...he was gonna be hearing about it from someone who had MET Him. Who had talked to Him. It was almost unreal. He really wished Father Wesley were here right now. Wesley's faith was strong, and he wouldn't be frightened in the least being in the presence of an angel.
"So, uh, hi. I'm Burton Guster. I guess you probably know that already, though. So, uh, Miss Angel, I-" Gus started, before the angel cut him off.
"My name is Remiel. Please call me Rem," She tilted her head in a bow, which was apparently her version of a handshake.
Gus bobbed his head back at her, not really sure what to do.
"Uh, okay. Remiel. Rem. So, uh. Hey. Angels. Man, that's some...wow. Just wow. I never thought I'd see one of you until I died. What about Him? Can I...you know...talk to Him?" Gus asked, nervously. He definitely wanted to talk to God in the flesh, but he was also terrified of the thought. What about all the sins he had committed over the years? Some without even knowing it? Would God forgive him? Would God hate him?
"God will not hate you. It is not in His nature to hate. He forgives sins. That's what He does. He even forgave someone who committed the greatest sin imaginable. Trying to kill Him. Small, human sins are nothing compared to that. And he forgave her, and loved her, and even apologized to her for the part He played in her entrapment." Rem said, making Gus even more confused. Who was 'she'? How could anyone come close to killing God? God was all-powerful.
"Please, do not ask me more, especially not about her. It is something those who know do not speak of. You have other questions. Ask. I promise, I will not take your eyes," Rem said again, giggling softly.
Gus blinked in bafflement. Something...someone...that even ANGELS didn't speak of? He wanted to know...but another part of him really, really didn't. He decided to go along with Remiel and just ignore 'her'.
"Okay, uh, Rem. Hey. So, Heaven is like, at your fingertips, huh? You can go there and stuff? Can you like, take people and let them see?" Gus asked, because, damn, he DID want to see Heaven. He wanted to see what it was like...without having to die, of course.
"Yes. I can go there, whenever I wish. I cannot take you there. I will never take another human soul to the afterlife again. I am no longer a Reaper. It will not happen. I am no longer a monstrous taker of human lives. You will see Heaven when another Reaper reads your name in one of their notebooks, or lists, if you want, although they are really just notebooks with causes of death written down for humans," Rem sighed, pursing her purple lips, "Yes, those damned notebooks...foul things, especially if a human gets hold of one...that must never happen again. Normal reapers...they must take lives in the order of the names in the notebooks. If they do not, the natural order collapses around the person who disrupted the natural order. And the Reaper who failed in their duty goes to the Empty. Nothingness. Cessation of being."
Gus stared at her, licking his lips. So...right now...a Reaper was looking at a notebook with his name on it, full of various causes of death...deciding when, how, why. When time was up. How it was up. Even WHY it was the end. It was terrifying, knowing that a Reaper could at any moment come for him. That same, small, pale white hand gave his own dark hand a squeeze.
"No. And yes, I can read your mind. Reapers no longer decide who lives and dies. There is no fate, no longer. The Winchesters, those fake agents you saw a few days ago...they were the ones who completely obliterated fate. Oh, yes, Reapers still take lives when someone dies. They still have the damned notebooks, filled with names. Trillions and trillions of massive books, with different causes of death written down, different stories of that being's life...the massive realm of the Reapers, the impossibly huge library. The impossible amount of books and names…and yet, the names only appear when the person has finished their time on Earth, however. They just don't have the power to decide who and when. At least, no longer. And no human will ever again touch a Reaper's notebook. Such an evil will never again be allowed. Only Father knows when exactly someone's time is up. Only Father can change it. Father knows all. IS all. Trust me, you have nothing to be frightened of," Rem smiled again, apparently trying to comfort him. Her sheer inhuman-ness was disconcerting, however, no matter how much she smiled or reassured him.
Gus took a deep breath. Damn. This angel was shockingly...terrifying, despite her kind nature and beautiful appearance. She could read his mind, feel what he felt...everything. No wonder Pamela lost her eyes if Castiel's appearance was even MORE inhuman that hers.
"Okay...Rem. What is He like? Have you spoken to Him? Is He really everything the Bible says? Light, Creation, Being, Existence? All the is and ever was?" Gus asked, swallowing the lump in his throat.
Rem closed her gold eyes for a moment, a soft smile on her inhuman face. Her entire body seemed to glow, giving off a soft, silvery light that seemed to encompass the entire station. No one but Gus seemed to even notice. Except Pamela and Lassiter. He'd seen Lassie glance up and then back to the stack of paperwork he was reading. Pamela was simply looking directly at Gus and the angel. For a blind person, she could see more than a sighted one.
"Father...is. I can't truly explain it. I don't think anyone can. Only her. Because she is His equal and opposite. Part of what you said...it is right. He is the Alpha, Creation, and Existence, and all that entails. This world...us...humans and angels...we are, because He is. Grace...souls...free will...all because of Him." Rem was smiling, her eyes still closed, her body still softly glowing.
"I always believed...or hoped, I guess...that the Bible was right. That God really was the Light. That He really was in Heaven, waiting for us. I kind of...invited a friend of mine to talk to you too. His name is Father Wesley. He's a priest. His life was spent dedicated to your Father. To the Light of Creation. To Heaven. Will you...I dunno...like, talk to him?" Gus licked his lips almost nervously.
This angel practically exuded power, and it terrified the shit out of him. She was nothing but kindness, but so damn inhuman that anyone would, or should, be terrified out of their minds.
Rem's gold eyes finally opened, the glow around her still not fading. Gus looked closer and noticed a silvery-white outline of beautifully feathered wings trailing from the light behind her back. God. Such pure, angelic, heavenly beauty.
If she didn't scare him, he wouldn't have denied that he would have definitely found her attractive. No, she WAS attractive. Inhuman or not, this was beauty he'd never seen before, beyond human beauty. Literal heavenly beauty, made flesh, or something like it.
Gus felt Rem's small hand give his a tight, almost painful squeeze. A small grimace was on her once-smiling face.
"Please, simply call Him Father. Or, if you must, Creation and Being. Calling my Father by the name of Light...I find it insulting. I would rather not tell you why, but calling a beautiful, holy, wonderful being like my Father by the name of Light...it...makes me nearly sick," Rem licked her lips, silvery liquid coating the purple lipstick.
She really did look sickened by the name Light for some reason. Gus had no intention of pissing off a powerful angel, so he decided to stick with God for now and leave the reason for her hatred of the word Light alone.
"Oh...okay. I won't do that then. So, God...so what is He like? Is He...can I talk to Him? I just...I want to talk to Him. I mean, I went to church. I read the Bible. All of it. Every version. I just want to talk to God. I want to know...why. Why everything," Gus forced a smile, "Like...why isn't Pluto a planet? I mean, have you heard about Pluto?"
Rem laughed at this. Gus felt his face redden. What the hell. Why had he used the most awful pick up line the universe on an ANGEL? An angel he couldn't imagine having a relationship with at all, because of his sheer terror of her. It had just...slipped out. Like the way stupid things slipped out of McNab's mouth.
It happened, because it always did. Just like McNab and stupid things always happened. Gus held back a laugh when he remembered McNab saying something like he still had half of one good toe and fine feeled, all with a huge, stupid grin on his puppy dog face.
"I do not know why...everything. I only know why...humanity. Only Father can tell you why...everything. And why Pluto isn't a planet," Rem laughed softly.
Gus took a deep breath. Did he REALLY want to know? Did he want to ask her? Of course he did. If he didn't, it would eat at him until he knew. If he didn't find out, he probably wouldn't even be able to enjoy his bedroom activities with Pamela. He just had to know why. Why humans.
"Part of me wants to know. So badly. Another part of me...thinks it's a really bad idea. I just know that if I don't ask...I won't get anything done until I find out. Not even the hot sex with the blind goddess," Gus sighed and gazed at Pamela's gorgeous body, "Shit. Sorry. I guess angels aren't really cool with the sex stuff. Wait. Or are they? I mean, I've heard a lot about Woody's adventures, uh, under the covers, and I'm pretty sure trenchcoat guy, Castiel, was totally feeling up the short blonde guy. Dean, right? So...uh, sorry, maybe? Okay, now...why? Why humanity? Why does the Creator care SO much more about us than any other race in the multiverse?"
Gus knew the multiverse theory, and now had proof it was real. Some of the things Rem had said didn't seem to line up with what the Winchesters had said, what Pamela had said. She'd told him that in another universe, she had died, but in this one, she had lived.
Apparently, being touched with the full power of Castiel in his true form had given her sight beyond the physical and even spiritual plane of this exact universe. She could see the multiverse with her "eyes", or lack thereof. Angel eyes...that's what Gus had decided to call her white, glassed eyes, the eyes that saw universes, spirits, truth.
"Humans are special. Humans have souls. Father's greatest, most powerful creation. It wasn't the universe. The multiverse. Time. Existence. It was the soul. The soul can travel through all of these, TO all of these places, without being ripped apart. The human soul...it cannot be ripped, torn, or broken apart. Father's greatest creations are literally unbreakable. Even she could not destroy a soul. Only send it to the Empty." Rem's gold eyes had closed again, and she was smiling. And glowing. Those nearly transparent silvery wings were spread out wide behind her.
"Some souls even have the power to choose a universe. Hunters call these people Dreamwalkers. The most powerful Dreamwalker alive is currently a woman named Kaia. She originates from a universe she simply calls 'the Bad Place'. She thinks her soul is two parts...Kaia of the main universe, and Dark Kaia of the Bad Place. It isn't. No soul can be in multiple parts. All souls, in all universes, are one." Rem took a deep breath and sighed, opening her eyes to Gus. She was finished.
Apparently, humans were here...they existed...and were important...because of souls. That was it. Because humans had souls. Nothing special about humans at all. Gus was a bit annoyed. He was hoping she would say humans had secret X-men powers hiding or super strength or some super power, but no. They had souls. That was it.
"That's it?" Rem laughed and laughed, until tears streamed down her alabaster cheeks, "Souls ARE a superpower, in the multiverse. Souls are more powerful than HER. Souls are more powerful than Archangels!" Rem continued to laugh, as if Gus had just told her the funniest joke in the world, even though he had only thought that souls were useless and powerless. Damn mind-reading angels!
"Souls are why Nephilim are seen as abominations! Why they are almost immediately killed upon birth. Nephilim are greater than humans, angels, and even the archangels. Possibly even Her. They may even be on equal footing with FATHER. A Nephilim is a human-angel...half-breed. The child of a human and an angel. What makes them so powerful is the soul from their human parent. That, combined with the Grace of an angel...it is powerful enough to rip apart worlds. Tear universes in half. If humans could harness the power of the soul as a Nephilim, a grown Nephilm, can...they would be even more powerful. Don't ever, ever say that souls are weak. That just because you aren't super strong, can't fly, or can't teleport...whatever...it doesn't mean you're weak."
"Burton Guster...humans aren't just bodies with souls inside. You're souls, made flesh. A pure soul, without a body, it's the power of raw creation. Father's power. Humans are souls with bodies, Father's power made flesh. Nephilim, fully realized nephilim, can harness this power of creation and use it, along with their grace. Humans are blessed, chosen amongst all of Father's beloved creations, because of the soul."
"But...you do seem to desire something. Shawn, your best friend, has his amazing observational skills. Pamela has her visions. You...you think that you have nothing. You can't see the power you truly possess. I can give you a gift. A small thing, but perhaps useful. Not as useful as when humans were allowed to be given a Reaper's book of death, but still useful," Rem gently placed her small, nearly translucent hand on Gus's face.
Fear tingled through him. His eyes burned. Dear God. Was she...taking his eyes? Like Castiel had done to Pamela? He didn't want to be blind. He didn't want...oh. Her hand was gone now. That was oddly...fast. What had she even done? He looked at her and just raised an eyebrow in confusion.
"Uh...what was that? Did you just...want to like, touch my face? Never touched a black dude before?" He asked, confused by Rem's actions.
"Look around you. You will understand," Rem stood, the glow and wings fading and her form becoming more human, "I must find my partner. He always assumes he can solve everything by himself. Admitting you need help is actually one of humanity's greatest strengths."
The pale angel turned and walked elegantly away, down the stairs toward the morgue, where her partner, whoever that was, apparently waited. She had lavender streaks in her white hair, Gus noticed. That was really weird. It looked natural, too. Not dyed. She wasn't like Castiel at all. Castiel was wearing what Pamela had called a "vessel". Rem...Remiel...the shining, white, winged beauty was her true form. The lavender hair. The nearly silver skin. It was all real. All her. Not a vessel. Rem had no vessel. Her body was her own. Gus momentarily wondered how exactly that happened. Apparently, not even archangels had their own bodies in the human world.
After watching her vanish down the stairs, her lavender streaked hair swinging back and forth down her back, Gus took her advice. He looked around. A strangled gasp and a curse that would never be repeated escaped his mouth. Numbers. Names. Above the heads of people. Everyone. Not to mention, things were sharper. Like he could see the truth and makeup of all things, even a simple chair.
He ran his hands over the arm of the desk chair he was sitting in. Each tiny grain was perfectly visible to his eyes now. And...touchable. He could see and feel every bump in the wood, knew instantly how to take it apart. Knew who made it, without knowing how. Remiel's gift. The angel had given him eyes similar to Pamela's. Not as powerful. At least, he was pretty damn sure. He couldn't see tears in reality like she could. He couldn't sense his multiverse selves. Just...see things more clearly. EVERYTHING more clearly.
In amazement, he glanced around, taking in the dozens of names and numbers, the exact, perfect details of objects that he would normally never notice. It was damn amazing. Rem was amazing for giving him this. He wondered how he would use this angelic gift to help Shawn. He could see things even Shawn couldn't, for once. He could know someone's name, just by looking at them...he could be a psychic. No...not really. The eyes only seemed to let him see more details. They didn't give him lifelong observational training like Shawn's father had given Shawn over the course of his life.
Looking around the station, he pretty much knew everyone's names already, but apparently...some used aliases to become officers or detectives. Like Dobson. He knew who Dobson was, but had never spoken to him. He looked at the man who called himself Dobson, whom everyone else called Dobson, and did not see 'Dobson' anywhere in the name shining above his head. He looked at McNab. Of course, it said 'Buzz McNab' in shining white letters. The only thing weird was the numbers. They weren't numbers. They were symbols. Symbols he couldn't read at all. Didn't matter. It was just McNab, the office idiot.
Gus looked at Lassiter. Lassie raised his head, eyes boring into Gus's own. Pain filled his head. He saw nothing when he looked at Lassiter. No name. No symbols. Nothing at all. Not even a sharp, white, aura he saw around the others. What. The. Hell. He looked at the other people, paying more attention now. Just names and numbers. Only Lassiter and McNab were different, and McNab's 'numbers', whatever they meant, were probably messed up because they couldn't make sense of whatever was in that empty head of his.
Gus was too happy with his new "super power" to go back to Pamela. He'd already looked at her. She was more magnificent and sexier than ever. Her name was really "Pamela Barnes", written in shining white above her head, underneath, a set of jumbled numbers that made zero sense, followed by an unusual dash, followed by nothing but zeros. He guessed that had something to do with the death of herself in the other universe she mentioned. This was awesome, as long as he didn't look at Lassie. That had hurt.
Standing up, Gus decided to take a stroll around the police station, taking in the sights. Everything looked brand new and different with his sharper, better vision. The only other black person in the room, Darren Morris or something, glanced up at him. Oh, oops. Darryl. That's what his new eyes said. Darryl Morris. Okay. Good to know. At least he wouldn't have the problem of calling people by the wrong name anymore.
McNab watched as Gus finished talking to the shiny angel and started looking around as if this were his first time here. McNab totally understood. Sometimes, he too forgot what the station looked like. He shook his head sympathetically at Gus in understanding. McNab picked up the paperwork he'd been doing for a lawyer that had been sitting in the Chief's office for some time now. McNab worried that the lawyer would be upset that he'd taken so long. Oh no! What if he...GOT YELLED AT!? Would he be fired? His kitty wouldn't have a daddy anymore! Wait...what? McNab shook his head. Of COURSE his cat would always have a daddy. Even if he got fired, he wouldn't die from it! How silly!
McNab hummed happily as he walked toward the Chief's office, carrying the stack of papers. He instantly fell over a chair due to the fact that he was walking with his eyes closed again. The papers scattered. Oh well! That was okay. He liked picking stuff up! It made him feel useful to others. Wait. This was his mess. How was he useful to other people? It didn't matter! McNab began to hum again and started picking up the paperwork.
A pale hand bumped his. McNab's eyes widened. Oh no! What if he touched someone, and they didn't WANT to be touched!? He might be guilty of sexual assault, he might be-
"O-oh...I'm sorry. I just saw you trip and thought, maybe, I should...help? If not, I can go away. I-I was just waiting on some paperwork. I'm kind of a bad lawyer. I'm only good at defending the innocent, not prosecution. That-that makes me feel bad, especially when I know they're innocent and they get called a criminal. It's the eyes. You-you can see the innocence in someone's eyes, you know? Oh, please, excuse me. I'm kind of babbling. I just wanted to help you, and I thought maybe...uhm...I guess I'll shut up. Sorry." The man who had bumped McNab's hand said all this very fast, but with a very soft, gentle voice.
McNab looked at him. Soft brown hair, neatly trimmed beard, pale skin, and...the bluest damn eyes he had ever seen in his life, and he had seen LASSITER'S eyes, and that gay angel's blue eyes. They were nothing compared to this man's eyes. McNab couldn't help but suck in a breath of shock. He never expected a lawyer, the lawyer he was doing all this paperwork for, to be like THIS. He didn't look or sound like any lawyer McNab had ever met. Even his off-white suit was slightly rumpled and his briefcase looked a bit battered, like someone had stepped on it a few times.
And yet, his mere presence...that voice...those eyes...it seemed to exude...Dear God...what? Something. Something powerful. Not strange-powerful like the angels or the demons. Powerful...but familiar, and not at all scary. Powerful...love? That was literally the only word McNab could think of. Of course, he was a man of few words...probably because he didn't really know that many large words. He considered himself to be kind of an idiot...just like everyone else at the police station considered him an idiot. Despite the man's babbling and apologizing, McNab couldn't help but feel like he should...do something. Say something. That this man was far more than just a lawyer with a messy suit and a stutter.
The man helped McNab gather up his paperwork and he beckoned McNab to follow him into the Chief's office. McNab wasn't supposed to be in the Chief's office while she was gone, but something told him that whatever this man asked of him, it would never be something bad. Buzz simply could not understand these feelings. They were similar to what he felt with his wife, but far from romantic. Love...but...what kind of love? It made no sense.
The lawyer sat down at the table the Chief normally reserved for briefings.
"Uh-uhm...please, Officer McNab. Would you mind, you know, sitting? I just...want to talk to you a little, that's all. Really," The man bit his lip, almost looking nervous. McNab just KNEW that this man had nothing at all to be nervous ABOUT. He was curious, though. And he wanted to find out. Find out what was...not wrong, no...special. Different, about this man with the bluest eyes in the world.
McNab sat down silently, saying nothing. Knowing himself, he would say something stupid or offensive. He thought about just apologizing like he always did for everything, but...once again, something about this man made him feel no need to ask for forgiveness. It seemed absolutely stupid for some reason. At least right now. Right here, with this blue-eyed lawyer.
The man opened his briefcase and added the stack of papers McNab and he had collected to an already large stack inside. He shut it and sighed softly to himself, almost sadly. He reached down and pulled up a laptop, sitting it on the table. Turning it's screen to face McNab, he gave the young officer an expectant look.
McNab examined the website the lawyer was showing him. It looked like...a list of books? Supernatural by Carver Edlund. What did that mean? He'd never read those. He wasn't a big reader. When he did read, it was mostly old-school comics, like Superman. McNab had always wanted to be like Superman. A hero. Someone special, someone who could go around saving lives, someone people called on for help. Not just someone who, when spoken to, always heard a sentence that ended in "you idiot" or, Lassiter's favorite response to anything Buzz asked "get me coffee!".
"Books? Are these part of the case you're working on? I don't get it," McNab said. He didn't want to sound stupid to this man, but he somehow felt that...the man would not care. He could be Forrest Gump and the man would not care.
"They are books, yes. Carver Edlund is a pen name, though. The name the writer really goes by is Chuck Shurley. They're books about the supernatural, if the title didn't give it away," the man's stutter and stammering was gone, "They're about them. Those brothers. The Winchesters. And now, things are taking a different turn. Different than what the books say."
"I...okay. Do you want me to read them? Is that why you're showing me?" McNab asked. He was truly confused.
The lawyer chuckled slightly.
"No, not at all. They're awful. Especially 'Bugs'. Don't ever read that one. Please!" He laughed.
McNab couldn't help but smile. The man's happiness was...infectious.
"Do you know the writer? Do you know Mr. Shurley? Are you his friend? Or do you not like him and you're trying to tell me to never read his books? And why would anyone write about the Winchesters? They're monster hunters, but...if it's real...why read about it?" McNab sighed, still unsure of what the man wanted from him.
"No, no. I don't know Chuck Shurley. You see...I AM Chuck Shurley. Hah. At least, that's what I prefer, anyway. Call me Chuck," the man, Chuck, held out a hand for McNab to shake.
"Oh, God! I'm so sorry I insulted your books! Oh my God! Did I insult them? If I did, I didn't mean it! It just happened! Sometimes I say stuff without thinking and it just pops out and then I-" McNab was silenced as Chuck grabbed his hand, giving it a firm squeeze.
Something like lightning went up McNab's spine. He couldn't explain it. It didn't hurt. In fact, it was the best feeling in the entire world. Not even when he was full of morphine after that bomb could compare to the warmth he felt simply touching Chuck Shurley's hand.
"Stop it, please. Chuck. It's just Chuck," he laughed, and then smiled at McNab, a warm, soft smile that reminded him of a beautiful summer day.
"What's just Chuck? Oh, no. Did I accidentally call you another name, one you don't like? Did I call you Carver Edlund? That's an awful pen name, and I didn't mean to call you that you know, it just-"
"Buzz McNab. Will you please be silent for a small moment?" Chuck asked, a soft laugh escaped him.
McNab instantly shut up and stared into Chuck's magnificent blue eyes. He felt a slight burn in his chest before realizing he was holding his breath. He took a deep breath, hoping Chuck wouldn't be offended, since that had technically broken his silence.
Chuck just gave him a deadpan stare, eventually giggling softly.
"Breathe, Buzz. It's alright. You didn't offend me you. You did exactly what you were asked to. My paperwork. Thank you. I was...going to tell you something...but now I don't think I should. Not because you did anything wrong! Don't think that!" Chuck immediately said, since McNab started to apologize, "You're a beacon of light and pure innocence in this hellhole. Believe me when I say some parts of Hell are better than this. Crowley has a soul. He isn't a bad king of Hell. In fact, he wasn't always a demon. Or even a human, at that. Never mind. It isn't important. Just...well, thank you. For keeping the peace. When someone says 'idiot' in reference to you, ignore them. You aren't an idiot. You are special. Soon, you will know. If you can believe me, please do."
For some reason, McNab DID believe this man, from the bottom of his heart. It was almost like he got the feeling that the man couldn't tell a lie. Everything he said was true, and pure, and...perfect. McNab fought back the tears welling in his eyes. To be told he was special by someone like this...even though he had no idea what Chuck was...it just felt true. Honest. Absolutely believable.
"I do. I really don't know why I do...I mean, not that I'm saying you're a liar or you look like a liar or anything, but you know in this world you can't really trust everyone, right? I try to, but sometimes that gets me into really bad situations, like this one time I opened the door for this guy I barely knew and then he threatened to kill me, then there was the British guy who asked me to get noodles for him which ended up with a bomb going off, and this other time there was this OTHER bomb-" McNab rambled, before noticing the amused look on Chuck's face and shutting up.
"I know, don't worry. It's okay, really. So, uh, thanks, Buzz. I can say with a hundred percent certainty that I will indeed see you again! And, well, I hate to be THAT guy, quoting old songs and all, but...carry on, my son, there will be peace, not just when you're gone. And...Tell...tell my grandson...that I'm so sorry. Excuse me," Chuck stood up and grabbed his briefcase, giving McNab a nod and looking into his eyes with his own blue eyes, reminding him, at this moment, so much of Lassiter for some reason (Buzz briefly wondered if Chuck and Lassiter were related), before giving a wave, walking out of the police station as silently as he had came in. Not a single person noticed him, not even Lassie or Gus, and Gus was still staring at things for some reason.
McNab sat down at the table and stared at Chuck's open laptop. He knew that Chuck had 'forgotten' it on purpose. Chuck wanted him to read the books. Supernatural. He didn't know why, but Chuck had had a reason. McNab, always the trusting idiot, trusted Chuck and knew there was a purpose behind it. Behind everything Chuck had said and did ever since McNab first saw him. Buzz didn't know why. Why this stranger seemed so important. Why he absolutely believed everything Chuck had said. It wasn't just blind trust. No, it was something special. Something about Chuck. The lawyer...he couldn't have been human. He had looked human, acted human, seemed more human than anyone else. The strange comfort, peace, meaning...whatever he felt with Chuck, that wasn't human.
Eyes brightening, McNab happily noted that the Supernatural books were actually ON the laptop, in e-book format or whatever that new crap was called. He could sit here and read them! Forgetting about his job at the moment, McNab grinned and opened the first book, clicked the title "Pilot" and started to read.