I couldn't believe I was at a Supernatural convention; I had brought every book that Carver Edlund had ever written and now, he'd started writing again and there was a convention! Carver Edlund was going to be here too!
In the main hall, I leant against the hall and watched the con manager walk on stage.
"Welcome to the first annual Supernatural convention. At 3.45 in the Magnolia room we have the panel. Frightened little boy, the secret of Dean. And at 4.30 there's the Homoerotic Subtext of Supernatural."
'Eugh, I'll give that a miss,' I thought to myself.
"Oh, and of course the big hunt starts at 7pm sharp," the con manager continued and the crowd cheered and applauded.
I looked around at them and there were so many Deans and Sams and the odd Bobby; there was even things that the Winchesters had hunted, like the Scarecrow from season one and the evil Pennywhistle clown from season four.
"But right now, right now I'd like to introduce the man himself. The creator, the writer of the Supernatural books. The one, the only, Carver Edlund!"
I held my breath and watched the stage, eager to see what the amazing author looked like.
As he walked on stage, he looked quite timid and nervous; he was wearing a shirt with skulls on and a jacket on top, his brown scruffy beard and hair made him look handsome. Really handsome.
After some feedback on the mic, Caver started talking.
"Ok. Okay, good, this wasn't nearly as awkward as I . . .Dry mouth," he said after clearing his throat and took very long gulps from a bottle of water.
The room was deathly quiet and everyone sat waiting; I felt a little sorry for him, it couldn't have been easy to get up in front of all these people and he did look really nervous.
"Ok. Uh . . .ahem. So . . .questions?"
The moment the question had left his lips, every hand apart from mine, it seemed, was raised and Carver looked startled.
"Uh . . .you?"
The guy Carver pointed at jumped up, grinning. He was a tall, lanky looking guy who had come role-playing Dean; he definitely wasn't as good-looking as the Dean I'd got pictured in my head.
"Hey, Mr Edlund. Uh . . .big fan. I was just wondering, where'd you come up with Sam and Dean in the first place?" The guy asked.
'Hmmm, good question,' I thought to myself.
"It, uh, I . . .it just came to me," Carver answered and pointed to a guy dressed as a hook man.
In a heavy German accent, the man asked, "ah yeah. Why in every fight scene, Sam and Dean are having their gun knocked away by the bad guy? Why don't they keep it on some kind of bungee?"
I'd never thought about it before but hook guy was right, their guns were always getting thrown out of reach.
"I . . .yeah. I really don't know," Carver struggled to answer.
"A follow up. Why can't Sam and Dean be telling that Ruby is evil? I mean she is clearly manipulating Sam in some kind of lapse. It's obvious, nein?"
"Hey! If you don't like the books don't read 'em Fritz," a girl shouted to my left and I looked to see a short blonde woman walk down between the row of chairs.
"Ok, ok, just okay. It's okay, so, next question," Carver said after settling the blonde. "Yeah, you."
I couldn't help but wonder what his beard would feel like under my hands.
"Yeah, at the end of the last book, Dean goes to hell. So, what happens next?" A fan asked.
'Yes. Yes, what does happen next?' I thought, anxious to hear the answer.
"Oh. Well, there lies an announcement actually. You're all going to find out," Carver paused and looked around at the crowd. "Thanks to a wealthy Scandinavian investor, we're going to start publishing again."
The whole place erupted, people jumping from their seats, yelling and cheering and applauding and I had to join in, slapping my hands together.
'Oh my god, more Supernatural books!'
The blonde that had shouted, now standing by the stage, was jumping up and down, screaming.
Wow, and I thought I was crazy about the series!
After everything had calmed down and Carver had wrapped things up, everyone seemed to drift off to start the LARPing. I knew what it was but it wasn't something that had ever really caught my fancy so I moved around all the Deans and Sams, monsters and everything and headed to the bar.
With a drink in my hand, I sat at a table and let my eyes browse the people.
'All the Dean and Sam Winchesters here and not one of them is yummy,' I thought and rolled my eyes. 'Whoa, hold on.'
There were two guys at the bar, both in character, one wearing a leather jacket and the other, taller one was wearing his farmer-looking shirt with a jacket on top. The taller one, playing Sam, wasn't that bad looking with his longish brown hair but it was the shorter one, the one playing Dean, that got my attention.
He had put a lot of attention into becoming Dean, I mean, he really had the bad boy, ladies-man image going on and I really wanted to go and talk to him, if only I was brave enough.
I watched a girl that had been LARPing as a ghost, stand next to him at the bar and order a drink and he started chatting her up.
This guy was a really bug fan, just like the short blonde woman . . .and speaking of the devil.
"Hi, I'm Becky. You looked really lonely, do you want some company?"
I looked up at her and she was smiling positively at me.
"Erm . . .sure," I shrugged and nodded to the chair opposite me. "I'm Sherrie."
"So, Carver is publishing again," Becky clapped her hands. Man, this woman was bubbly.
"I know, it's so great, I kinda missed his books. What do you think to the convention so far?" I asked her.
"Oh, I'm having so much fun. I'm trying to sweeten up Ch . . .Carver."
"There's so many Deans and Sams here but so far I've only seen one Dean that's good looking, all the others look a bit . . .like losers," I whispered the last part and then looked over her shoulder to the two guys sat at the bar.
Becky turned her head to follow my eyes and looked back at me, her grin even bigger.
"Ohh, THAT Dean? I know him so come with me and I'll introduce you," Becky stood up and held her hand out to me, suggesting I go with her.
"Oh, I don't know. Um . . .sure," I said, suddenly overwhelmed with nerves.
As I walked over, no one in the room, not even the REAL Sam and Dean were aware that there was a cupid in the room, watching and listening to everything; she was there, determined to get revenge for the witch that was once her lover, the cupid that they had killed.
When she heard me say that I liked Dean and that Becky was going to introduce us, it was too much to resist, there was too much fun to be had so, with a wiggle of her finger, things were set into motion and she disappeared with a smile on her face.
"Hey guys, I want you to meet someone," Becky said behind the two men and they jumped slightly, almost like they dreaded the sound of her voice. "This is Sherrie, she is a fan of the books . . .obviously."
Becky giggled and the guys turned around to face me; oh they were definitely the best looking men I had seen at this conference, besides Carver, of course.
"Hey," the Dean wannabe said and looked me over.
'Damn, sexy much?' I thought to myself and smiled.
"Hi, so you're fans too? How did you decide who gets to be who? I supposed the height difference made it easier, right?" I asked, trying to make conversation.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Becky smiling with a certain look on her face, almost as if she knew something I didn't.
"So, are you friends or . . .or, you know . . .partners," I stumbled with my words, hoping they weren't gay.
"What?! No!" The Dean wannabe screwed up his face. "Hell no!"
The other guy, the Sam wannabe, hadn't said one word so I looked in his direction to see him staring at me, mouth open slightly.
I couldn't help blushing, even though I wasn't interested in him. It was the Dean guy I wanted.
When the Dean wannabe continued talking, I looked back to him.
"Anyway. No, I am not a fan. Not fans," he waved his hands back and forth to him and the Sam wannabe, who was still staring at me. "In fact, I think the Dean and Sam story . . .sucks. It is not fun. It is not entertaining. It is a river of crap that would send most people howling to the nuthouse. Their pain is not for your amusement. I mean, do you think people enjoy being treated like . . .like circus freaks?"
'Wow, talk about taking the role too far,' I thought before answering, "uh . . .I don't think they care, because they're fictional characters."
"Oh, they care. Believe me, they care a lot," the Dean wannabe huffed, leaving me staring.
"Okay, no need to be a dick about it. So, what? You gonna tell me Dean and Sam are 'real'?" I asked, using air quotes.
I looked from the guys to Becky, who had a glint in her eye. Surely she wasn't buying into this!
"How stupid do you think I am?" I hissed.
"Shall we take her to Chuck? Let's take her to Chuck," Becky cried and ran off.
I decided to make the most of the convention and go along with their little 'play' and I followed Becky, and the Sam and Dean wannabes followed me.
"Hi, I didn't get to introduce myself," the Sam wannabe walked beside me.
"Let me guess, you're Sam?" I had to look up at him, he was really tall when he was on his feet.
"Err . . .yeah," he smiled.
"Sure. So, you guys take this stuff seriously, huh?" I aimed at the Dean wannabe, ignoring the other guy.
"Yes. Just save your questions for Chuck and after we've proved that we're real," the Dean wannabe rolled his eyes.
"Do you wanna get a drink after this is all done with?" the Sam wannabe asked, still at my side.
"No."
His eyes fell to the ground and it felt like someone had twisted a knife into his chest. It wasn't normal for him to feel like this so I must have been . . .no, he didn't believe in soul mates, he must just really like me. He kept quiet as he followed the small, blonde Becky.
In a hotel room, I covered my mouth with my hands when Becky took me to Carver Edlund.
"Oh my god, hi. Oh wow, seriously, wow," I gushed, not knowing what to say.
"Chuck, she doesn't believe that the books are real, that everything is real," she said to him and turned to me.
"Why is she calling you Chuck? Who's Chuck?" I asked, confused.
"That's my real name. I'm actually a . . .a prophet and . . .and the stories came to me in, uh, in dreams but they were, um, actually, err . . .visions," Carver or Chuck said.
"So, you're using Carver as an . . .alias? You're the prophet that Dean and Sam find out has been writing about them . . ."
"It took me a while to come round to the idea but really! That is really Dean Winchester and this is really Sam Winchester!" Becky out her hands on my shoulders.
I started to laugh, thinking I'd been chosen as the victim of a joke, that the author had some kind of warped sense of humour, but as I looked around each of the four faces surrounding me were serious.
"You-you're . . .I mean, everything is-is . . .ghosts and-and angels and-and . . .you guys are real?" I stuttered, failing to fight off the belief that was taking over.
"Yes! Finally," the guy that I thought was a Dean Wannabe rolled his eyes.
It occurred to me then that he wasn't a wannabe, he was the REAL Dean Winchester; human, breathing, real Dean and not just a character in a book.
I spun round to look at the REAL Sam and he just nodded at me.
"Oh god, I think I need to sit down."
