A/N - Okay, so this story started out as a dream I had, of Jo punching a fan-girl, who was trying to tell her she wasn't real. And then after watching Lost in Austen, couldn't resist writing the story.

A/N 2 - Originally Grace was a waitress, but I changed her to a doctor cos it fit better into the storyline later on. Just a bit of fun. I hope you enjoy it :). No romantic pairings in this story (maybe a little flirting but that's it)

Prologue

Grace sat and stared out the window, chewing on her bottom lip.

"Grace," an exasperated voice said across from her. "You know they're not real right?"

Grace turned and rolled her eyes, setting down the note pad she had in her hands on the table and leaning back in her chair.

"I'm not an idiot, Jenna," she replied, rolling her eyes. "I know Supernatural isn't real. It was just a touching episode. I never thought the Harvelle girls would make me cry. I mean Ellen, definitely, but Jo, man the way she went out, that girl was awesome this seas-"

"That," Jenna said, leaning forward and picking up their coffee cups, "is exactly what I'm talking about. Seriously, when I finish my fellowship, come and see me, I'll be your psychiatrist."

"Ha, ha," Grace said. "You should really watch the show, Jen, I think you'd like it."

Grace saw her friend roll her eyes out of the corner of her eyes. Sighing and standing up, she stretched, cracking her back and checking to make sure her pager was still attached to her belt. They only had two hours left until their shift was done. Grace loved working in the Emergency Department, but today, had been crazy. Working in the major trauma hospital meant that they got majority of the Priority One's.

"Just what I need," Jen snorted. "Another show to obsess about."

Grace smiled and threw her arms around her friends' shoulders.

"You don't know what you're missing," she said, before the two headed off in different directions.

"See you tonight," she called, not knowing just how her life was about to change in a few hours.

"Jones, what are you still doing here?"

Grace looked up into her senior's face, signing the last of her paperwork, before grinning.

"Just leaving sir," she said, standing up.

"Do you mind seeing one more patient for me?" he asked, handing her a file. "They're already in the room."

Sighing she took the file, nodding, then frowning as she looked at where the patient had been placed. She'd never seen anyone put in the room, it was one of the furtherest away from the E.D., and was usually left as a spare room.

"Weird," she muttered to herself. Walking to the room she read through the notes and opened the door, stepping into a dark, dusty, room, instead of the well lit room she had expected. Stopping short, she looked back behind her, into the doorway which still showed the hospital corridor, as the door slowly swung closed.

"Wh-" she started, looking back into the room. To one side, there was a large metal door, which looked oddly familiar, to the other, light coming down stairs, the room was obviously someone's basement. "Where in the world-"

She was cut off as a fist connected with her nose and she staggered backwards. Grabbing her nose, she backed up towards the door, leaning against the wall, she took her hand away and grimaced as she saw blood.

"Ow," she said. "What the hell was that?"

"Who the hell are you?"

Looking up, Grace froze.

"I've gone crazy," she breathed. The blonde in front of her raised an eyebrow, as she steadied the gun on her.

"Still doesn't answer my question," the woman said.

Ignoring the pain coming from her nose, Grace stared at the woman, taking in her outfit and face, before closing her eyes tightly. When she opened them again, she groaned as the blonde was still there, surrounded by a room clearly a basement, still with her gun trained on her.

"You don't exist," Grace said, shaking her head. "Jenna was right, I'm way too obsessed with this show. Because now I'm hallucinating that I'm standing in Bobby's basement, talking to one of the characters. I need help."

The blonde frowned, brow furrowed, eyes full of confusion.

"What are you talking about?" the woman asked, the anger and steel leaving her voice.

"I'm having a mental breakdown," Grace informed her. "Maybe it's the stress of the job. I didn't think it was stressing me out, but … I can't think of any other reason. Nope, maybe I will ask Jenna to be my psychiatrist, at least she already knows I'm crazy about the show. Nothing will shock her."

"Hey," the hallucination that was posing as the blonde said. "I hate to break your little mental breakdown ramble, but this is real, and I have a gun, and I want to know how the hell you got into Bobby's basement, without any of us seeing."

Grace banged her head against the wall, laughing a little hysterically.

"Great, okay," she said, calming herself and looking her mind's hallucination in the eye. "You are not real. You are a character in a show I watch, played by actors. You don't actually exist outside of the television. So I am obviously having some kind of mental break."

"Really?" the other woman replied skeptically. "Then why are you bleeding?"

Grace looked down at her hand, which showed the blood she had stemmed from her nose. Frowning, she looked back up.

"Clearly, I have a very good imagination," she reasoned, seeing the blonde roll her eyes.

Clicking her fingers, Grace slowly reached and opened the door, aware that the whole time the other woman had her gun trained on her. The look of suspicion and amusement turned into one of confusion, as the woman looked out into the hospital corridor. Grace was glad to see that she hadn't completely lost it.

"What …" the woman trailed off, walking past her and into the hallway. "What the hell is this?"

Grace looked at the other woman, shaking her head.

"I already told you," she said. "You're a character, you're not real."

"I'm real," the other said, as she stood just inside the hospital hallway. "My name is Jo Harvelle. This is some kind of tri-"

The rest of her sentence was cut off as the door swung shut, with a resounding bang. Turning to stare at the door, it took Grace a few moments before she reached for the doorknob, pulling it with all the strength she had.

The door remained shut.

"Jo," she whispered, not wanting to draw attention. "Jo can you hear me?"

She put her ear to the door, but couldn't hear anything. She banged on the door, adding a kick for good measure, with no affect.

"Great, not only have I gone crazy, but now I can't even get home," she muttered.

"It just got a whole lot worse," a deep voice said from behind her. Grace froze, putting her hands up as she turned, slowly, and took in the man now holding a gun on her. She felt her mouth go dry as she took in the handsome face and leather jacket.

"You're a lot taller than I thought," she said, shrugging and giving a wry smile, hands still up.

"You've got, oh, about four seconds, to tell me who you are and where Jo is, before I send you back to hell," Dean replied, cocking his gun.

Great, her imagination was going to kill her.