The Internet is for Porn
by Liss Webster
"Always hated ghosts," says Ellen, methodically cleaning her shotgun as Jo checks her email. "I told your daddy, he came back as a ghost I'd empty a shell of rock salt in his ass and make a bonfire of his bones."
"Dad was cremated," Jo says absently, as she deletes three offers to enlarge her penis and an excited well-wisher wanting to give her five million bucks, and flicks over to Google. She and Ellen spent three days of the previous week pretending to be from the CDC, and they've found from others' experiences that it's best to keep an eye on whether anyone's picked up on either fake or real IDs.
Her mother's still bitching about ghosts and how salt really messes up a gun's action, and Jo types in Jo Harvelle, and reaches round for her water. She googles herself all the time, and knows exactly what the search brings up: a bunch of genealogy pages, a research chemist in Canada, book listings for the same person, and an alumna of a high school in Maine.
When she looks back at the screen, she can see that's not what she's getting this time.
oOo
The shrill beep of his phone wakes Dean Winchester, and he flails blindly in the direction of the nightstand. He accepts the call without bothering to see who it is, and starts the ball rolling with an inarticulate, "Mhmph?"
"Dean Winchester, why the fuck is the internet full of stories about us screwing like monkeys?" a woman shouts down the line, and it takes more than a few moments for him to get the picture.
Supernatural.
Fans.
Internet.
Porn.
"Hey, Jo," he says.
"Who is Carver Edlund, why are there books about you and Sam, and why are we fucking our way across the internet?"
"Be reasonable," says Dean, sitting up in bed and glancing across at the other bed, "me an' Sammy are getting a whole lot more action. Apparently he has a thing for me in a corset."
"Get rid of it!"
"I can't! Believe me, I'd like to. Turns out, you can't delete the internet."
"I hate you!" The phone hangs up. Dean stares at his cell for a second.
"Right back at you, sweetheart," he says, and smiles a bit as he settles back down to sleep. Fanfiction about him is fifty kinds of creepy, and him n' Sam can barely look at each other till they're fully dressed now, but he kinda likes those stories with him and Jo.
oOo
Later, Dean thinks it's pathetic, reading stupid stories about him and a girl long dead hunting demons and having babies.
He does it anyway.