It was another lonely Friday night. Your roommate was working late and then heading out with her boyfriend. Once again you found yourself alone with nothing to do on a night when other girls your age would be out trolling the bars or going on dates. You didn't mind though, you preferred to be alone. And anyway, you'd gotten a notification earlier that a new chapter had been posted to the fic you'd been reading all week. It's not like you were that excited, but you really were. You'd been waiting all day to see what would happen with Sam and the witch, and it looked like it was about to get hot and smutty.

You poured yourself a glass of wine and sat down on the couch with your laptop.

Tumblr was busy tonight it seemed. You scrolled around a bit, reblogged a few gifs of Jensen singing and then clicked through to open the new chapter you'd been waiting for.

The story was great. Just one of those that pulled you in from the start. Sam and Dean were working a case in South Dakota and Sam got trapped by a witch, Dean was off doing some girl he met at a bar. It was great. Suspense, romance, action: just perfect. You snuggled down into the couch cushions and let yourself get caught up in the descriptions of Dean dragging his full lips over the girl's...

Did the lights just flicker? No... it's just your imagination. Back to Dean. 'Dean's full lips ghosted over Julie's milky white skin, his breath was hot against her. Goose bumps rose in his wake as he'...

OK, that time the lights definitely flickered. You put your empty wine glass down on the coffee table and reached over to the lamp next to you. You twisted the hot light bulb to make sure it was in correctly; it was fine.

'Goosebumps rose in his wake as he trailed down her neck, sucking a bruise just below her collarbone. Julie gasped, carding her fingers through Dean's short hair. He moaned against her and licked the mark'...

OK, what the hell is going on? The lights flickered a third time and you put your computer on the seat next to you. You stood up and looked around. "Hannah? Are you home?" You called out for your roommate, but you knew you were alone. There was no answer. You took a deep breath and relaxed; it was probably just the jitters of being home alone in a new apartment. You and Hannah had only moved in two weeks ago, and it didn't feel like home yet. It was still too new to you.

You sat back down and reached for your laptop. The screen suddenly went fuzzy, you smacked the side of it, but it did nothing. The lights flickered yet again and you stood up, this time you were scared. Your heart was beating fast, and your breath came out in a puff of fog; the room around you got very cold.

OK, you must be dreaming, you thought. There's no way there's actually a ghost in your apartment.

Just to be on the safe side, you ran into the adjoining kitchenette and grabbed a container of salt from the cupboard. You held it close to your chest with shaking hands. You looked around; there was nothing iron in this place. You didn't have a fireplace... OH! You remembered your grandmother's cast iron skillet that your mother had given you when you moved out. You had never used it, but it was in here somewhere.

You searched through the lower cabinets, pulling out Tupperware and bowls and throwing them aside until you found it. You stood up just in time to see the lights go off and on again. The hair on the back of your neck stood up and you spun around to see an old woman standing in your kitchen. She was small and gray; you could almost see through her. You stared at her, eyes and mouth wide with shock: you were totally standing next to a ghost! This was amazing.

The old woman walked towards you and you just watched her. She didn't look malicious and you were so curious you couldn't really move.

Suddenly the ghostly grandma lifted her hand and you went flying, slamming into the far wall, your head slamming back against the plaster. You slumped down to the floor, salt still in hand though you had dropped the skillet during your flight. The ghost moved towards you in a series of awkward, almost choppy movements. You quickly opened the salt and flicked the container, sending a blizzard of white granules at her. She disappeared instantly and you scampered to your feet, gripping the salt in your hands. You walked back towards the skillet and bent to pick it up. It flew out of your reach and you looked up to see your attacker was back and she was pissed. A curdled scream ripped through your throat as ghostly cold hands gripped your neck. She pushed you back against the wall and up with amazing preternatural strength. You dropped the salt and tore at the fingers crushing your windpipe.

There was a loud crash as your front door was kicked open. Your eyes flew to the doorway and you almost screamed again. Two flannel-clad men appeared rushing in from the dark hallway. One was very tall, with long flowing dark hair and large sad eyes. The other was shorter, but still very tall. Your mind raced, and your heart struggled to keep up with itself. Your eyes passed down from the man's bright green eyes to his plump full lips: it was Dean. And Sam! Sam and Dean Motherfucking Winchester were standing in your apartment!

"Dean!" You gasped, still being choked by the tiny ghost woman.

Dean looked over at Sam with a perfect "What the hell?" face upon hearing his name escape your lips.

Sam ran towards you and showered the ghost with salt. She dropped you and retreated. You fell down, clutching your neck and panting. Sam helped you up, "Hey, you'll be OK. We're here to help." he said, smiling sympathetically at you.

You stared up into his face, narrowing your eyes and making sure you were seeing what you were seeing. "Are you...real?" you squeaked out.

Sam gave a short laugh, "I think so. I'm Sam and this is my..."

"…brother Dean." You interrupted him. "Yeah, I know." Your head was spinning. This had to be a joke. A big, elaborate joke. A big, elaborate, expensive joke masterminded by your friends who teased you constantly about your obsession with Supernatural. This wasn't real. They somehow got Jared and Jensen here to play a joke on you. You looked back and forth between the men and as you did that scenario seemed even less likely than the possibility that Sam and Dean were real.

"We don't have time for this Sammy, let's get her out of here." Dean was halfway out the door, beckoning you to follow him. You stood frozen in the little kitchen, unable to move your feet.

Sam put his hand on your arm gently and said, "I know this is a lot to take in, you just saw a ghost and all, but we really do need you to come with us."

You blinked and looked up at him. Same hazel eyes, long hair, and dimples as on TV; same three layers of clothing. Could this really truly be real? Had you French Mistake'd into their universe? What the hell was going on? You only had one glass of wine, right?

"It'll be OK." Sam said again, pulling slightly on your arm.

"Yeah… yeah… OK." You slowly gained control of your body and reached down to pick up the skillet.

"Just leave that. It's useless anyway. Gotta be pure iron to hurt a spirit." Dean said from the doorway.

You turned your lip up at him and dropped the skillet. "Yeah, well it could still whack you pretty well."

Dean looked at you and then Sam. "I like her. She's feisty." He said with a smirk. "What's your name anyway?"

"Y/N Y/L/N." You replied, grabbing your coat off the back of a nearby chair.

"Nice to meet you Y/N. Now let's roll."

The Impala was parked haphazardly outside your apartment building, street lamps casting perfect yellow halos on the shiny black hood. The freaking Impala. You squealed a tiny bit when you saw it, your heart leaping into your chest. Sure it was an awesome looking car, but it was also the most important object in pretty much the whole universe! Sam was holding your hand, practically pulling you out of the building towards the car.

Dean wrenched open the driver side door and it groaned loudly. You smiled at the noise and had to take a deep breath to quell your excitement. "Are you OK Y/N?" Sam asked, opening the back door for you.

You stared at the black leather seat and nodded, "I'll be fine. This is all just…weird." You slid into the car and ran your hands across the seat. It felt real; you were definitely sitting in a car.

Sam got in and Dean gunned the engine, peeling away from the curb with a quick turn of the steering wheel. "I know this is a lot to take in," Sam turned around in his seat and spoke to you softly.

"Oh you have no idea. This is insane." You said, eyes running all over the car. You slid fully across the seat and peeked into the driver's side ashtray. Tears appeared behind your eyes when you saw the little green army man stuck inside. It was real: this is The Impala. Maybe you were going insane. That had to be it. Supernatural is just a TV show. Sam and Dean aren't real.

"How you doing back there?" Dean asked, watching you from the rear view mirror. You blinked and looked up at him, tears falling down your cheek. "You crying? Sam she's crying."

"There's an army man… stuck in the ashtray." You managed to say.

Sam smiled, "Yeah, I kinda stuffed it in there when I was a kid."

"I know." You said, looking into his big eyes. "And it helped you fight back Lucifer enough to jump into the cage. I remember." Your breath was coming faster and faster; you were freaking the fuck out.

Sam and Dean looked at each other and then back to you. "How do you know all that?" Sam asked.

"What are you, another prophet? I thought we were done with those." Dean questioned, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

"I'm not a prophet." You said quickly. "I just… I know you both. I know everything. Oh my god, I can't breathe… I'm gonna pass out. This is too much." You clutched your chest, trying to control your breathing.

"The books? You read all those Chuck books?" asked Dean.

"No…they're not real books. I just… um… I can't breathe." You struggled to get air into your lungs, opening your mouth as wide as you could.

"Just relax." Sam cautioned, he was turned completely around in his seat watching you.

"Yeah, maybe put your head between your legs or something." Dean called.

You did as he suggested but it didn't help. "Can we… please stop the car." You gasped.

Dean turned the wheel and the car slowed to a stop. "It's OK, we're here anyway," he said.

You practically jumped out of the car and ran about fifty feet away from it. When you stopped running you looked around, trying to calm yourself down, and realized you were in a cemetery. "Oh just great." You murmured to yourself. You looked back at the car and saw the boys conversing near the trunk; Dean was handing Sam a shovel and Sam was pointing towards you as he spoke.

You turned away and tried to think. OK, ghost in your kitchen, Winchesters saved you. Now you're at a cemetery clearly about to aid in a Salt and Burn. This is pretty straight forward. But… what the fuck is going on? You must have suffered a nervous breakdown or something and you're sitting quietly in a padded room rocking yourself in a corner. That must be what was going on, because TV shows don't just suddenly come to life and drag you into them. That just doesn't happen. Well, except on Supernatural.

Sam cleared his throat behind you and you spun around, smiling awkwardly at him. "Hey, sorry. I… I'll be OK. I think. I might be going crazy, or gone crazy already possibly, but I'll deal with that. Hey, at least I don't have the Devil running around up here, huh?" You rambled on, pointing to your head.

Sam shook his head, "How do you know about all that?" he asked again.

You shrugged. "Well…"

"Hey, are we doing this?" Dean called over from across the cemetery. He stood in front of an old crumbling headstone, shovel swung over his shoulder.

"You coming?" Sam asked. You nodded and followed him over to Dean.

Thirty minutes later and the boys had only dug two feet down. You sat on the wet grass beside the grave and watched them. "This goes so much faster on TV." You said.

"Hmm?" Dean looked up from his work, questioning your statement.

"Oh, I just… I thought this would be faster." You said with a small laugh.

"You wanna jump down here and do it yourself?"

"No, I'm good, thanks."

He snickered and went back to work. Sam stood up and wiped the sweat off his brow with his canvas sleeve. He turned his eyes to you. "So you gonna tell us what's going on?"

"Me?" You asked, pointing to yourself innocently. "You're the professionals. You tell me."

He laughed. "Well you knew about ghosts and salt and iron; you screamed Dean's name when we busted in, and you practically had a panic attack after seeing the car. You know us, we don't know you. The question is, how do you know us?"

Dean stopped digging and looked up at you, also waiting for the explanation.

You took a deep breath, "You're gonna think this is nuts. And I know, you've heard it all. But… OK. You guys aren't real. You're just characters on a TV show. Sam and Dean Winchester are just made up guys who fight ghosts and demons every week on the CW. None of this is real. I know everything about you because I've been obsessively watching the show for years. I've rewatched it a dozen times on Netflix. I read and write fanfiction about you! None of this is real! I must have gone insane and this is my delusion. I mean, I'm not complaining, but what else could it be?... Oh my god… Maybe I'm dead. That's it, I died. And this is my heaven. I knew it! I'm dead!" You leaned back and looked around. Huh, well if this is Heaven it isn't too bad. Adventuring with Sam and Dean for all eternity? It could be worse.

Dean started laughing and Sam just stared at you.

"Honey we are real, sorry to break it to you." Dean said, shaking his head and lifting the shovel again.

"Oh really? Then explain it all to me. If you've got something better, then I'm all ears." You said.

"Dean, maybe she got pulled into our universe like we did when Raphael sent us through the window. Maybe she's from that world, and got sent here." Sam said, nodding in agreement with his theory.

"Yeah but how? And why?" Dean asked.

"I don't know." Sam shrugged.

"Great." You said. "So either I'm dead or in another dimension. Either of you have a Tardis I can borrow to get me home?"

"What's a Tardis?" Sam asked.

You rolled your eyes "Are you telling me there's no Doctor Who here? Motherfu-"

"Got something!" Dean yelled, his shovel hit something hard beneath their feet.

You stood up and leaned over the hole, watching as Dean cracked open the old wooden coffin. There were bones inside, and you winced at the sight; you'd never actually seen a dead body before, let alone a mostly decayed one.

The boys climbed out and you picked up the large metal container full of salt. You looked at them with excitement in your eyes. "May I?" You asked. Dean nodded and you proceeded to pour salt over the body while Sam squirted lighter fluid from the other side of the grave.

Dean flicked his lighter and you let out a tiny yelp of glee. He looked at you in concern. "Sorry, just… this is exciting. Please… light her up!" You smiled like an idiot at him.

Dean shook his head "You are so strange," he said and dropped his lighter onto the coffin below.

The grave instantly filled with flames, they jumped up at least three feet above ground level. You stepped back and shielded your face with your arm; you didn't realize it would be so hot. Dean laughed at the sight of you. After a moment your dropped your arm and you all stood around watching the fire burn. It was kind of nice, it reminded you of camping with your grandfather when you were a little kid. Well, minus the graveyard setting and the corpse turning to ash underneath your feet.

No one spoke for a long while and the flames kept on burning. You turned to Dean after a while and stared at him with narrow, investigating eyes. He was absolutely perfect looking; the glow from the fire illuminating his gorgeous profile, his green eyes sparkling in the light. You could see the hard lines around his eyes and mouth from when he laughed, the stubble darkening his jaw, his full juicy lips that…

"What are you staring at me for?" He asked suddenly, pulling you out of your trance.

You jumped and looked away, embarrassed. "I was just wondering how long this is gonna take." You said, pointing to the bonfire. "On the show you're usually back at the car having a beer by now. It's been like an hour."

Dean let out a big laugh at that. "We're burning a body. It takes a while!" He bowed his head and enjoyed himself for a second. "A beer sounds good though."

"Yeah I'll buy you one as soon as we're done with this felony." You joked.

"You know you might be crazy, but I think I like you Y/N," he said with a wink.

That's the moment you realized you were probably in Heaven, because if you could survive a wink from Dean Winchester, you'd have to be dead already.

TO BE CONTINUED…