It'd been a long time since Chuck had had a good dream. Years, in fact. He couldn't even remember the last time, and that was saying a lot, because in spite of the fact that he was pretty much a sugar-addicted alcoholic, Chuck had a pretty good memory. (So good that sometimes he wondered if little things like forgetting where he'd put his keys or what he'd had for breakfast that morning or what his last good dream was was all the fault of his current career as Chief Cameraman of The Sam and Dean Show. It had to take a toll, basically living out the lives of two other people. All that data had to go somewhere.) The thing was, most of his memory--and most of the memories he was making--had to do with the Winchesters and their increasingly grisly adventures. Every sleeping moment was another episode of The Apocalypse: As Hosted by the Winchester Boys! and almost every waking moment was spent frantically writing down every detail and word in the hopes that somewhere along the line, there might just be a clue that the Apocalypse wasn't happening. It was all Sam this, Dean that, and THE APOCALYPSE in huge, flashing, neonbright red text in the background, complete with demons, wendigos, angels, throw in a few vampires for spice... between Alaistair and Raphael and Ruby and Lilith, Chuck was exhausted. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. It'd be nice to get an ordinary dream once in while, but no one seemed to care what would be nice for Chuck.

Even an ordinary nightmare. Chuck's nightmares had been bad when the dreams about Sam and Dean first started (The Woman in White? He'd had to have a nightlight lamp on his room for weeks, after), but now that he knew all of that stuff was real? Was happening to two people he knew? People he had met? And THE APOCALYPSE going down any day now?

Yeah.

It had gotten a lot worse, and Chuck didn't see it quitting any time soon--the Winchesters were just too busy for him to take a break, and that's what made tonight weird, even to Chuck's somewhat sloshed unconscious.

Tonight, there was no Sam and Dean. Not even Castiel made an appearance (Chuck wouldn't have particularly minded if he had. Castiel was awesome understood the whole prophet thing.) It was all Chuck, every bit of him, and one part especially was receiving... extra-special attention right now, from two very special ladies, a brunette and a redhead, both of whom were very, very skilled, and--

--"Mr. Riordan? Mr. Riordan--"