Oooooh oooh

Creatures seem to scream and fade
Shadows bleed and the locks will break
Questions we could never solve
As answers in darkness evolved

Oooh oooh

Move in space but not in time
Choices made but nothing's right
Flakes of memory plagued by disease
Have I only seen what I wanna see

Oooh oooh

The dream I take to awake
When my mind's a mess

THE REAL GHOSTBUSTERS

Sioux Falls, South Dakota
Beth's POV

And just like that they vanished. I spun around, my hands stretched out to either side, glaring at the ornate church ceiling.

"Oh yeah?!" I shouted at the empty room. "Well, think again! You're wrong!" I could feel my heart thumping inside my chest. I wasn't just going to accept some Heavenly mumbo jumbo that may or may not be true. We made our own destiny, we wrote our own future, always had and always would.

"Beth?"

Dean's voice caused me to spin around, and then suddenly I was back in our room at Bobby's, staring at twinkling christmas lights that Dean had never taken down.

"Argh," I groaned, feeling my head spin as I realised I was lying on the bed. Dean was hovering next to me, a concerned look on his face.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah," I muttered, nodding and sitting up. I wrapped my arms around my knees and felt the satisfactory pull of my shoulder muscles stretching.

"Who were you shouting at? You sounded pretty pissed," he asked, dropping his duffel on the bed and starting to shove clothes into it without fanfare. I watched, my mind slipping back to the dream. It had been on repeat since I'd talked to Gabriel. Part of me didn't mind the whole off to start a family premonition, it was what we'd wanted when we moved to Minnesota. The more practical part of me was screaming in protest, the mission, we have a mission…. Never mind that the mission was to kill the Devil, and likely die in doing so. Even more reason to not make plans for the future.

"Beth?" Dean's voice and accompanying frown prodded me back into the room once more, and I let out a big sigh, reaching for an answer, settling on...

"God…"

Dean's eyebrow arched with amusement. He shoved a shirt into the corner of his bag with the same force of a kid trying to cram as much candy into a halloween sack as possible. Seemingly satisfied with his efforts, he shrugged and walked toward me. "Is he answering?"

I slipped my arms around his waist, melting into the warmth of his torso as I pulled him close, murmuring, "maybe… I don't know."

My frustration was echoed in the sound of Dean's reply. "Yeah," he said, the single word riding a heavy sigh. "That's what I figured." His arms tightened around my shoulders, squeezing me lightly. He paused, contemplatively silent, and then kissed the top of my head before returning to shove a final shirt into his bag.

"We going somewhere?" I asked, my brain finally kicking into some semblance of understanding that he was packing a bag.

"Ohio."

"What's in Ohio?"

"Chuck," he replied, pulling the teeth of the zipper together and tugging on the slider to get it closed. "Got a text, life or death situation."

"What the hell does that mean? He has the protection of an archangel."

"I don't know," Dean admitted, his shoulders slumping and betraying how tired he was, even after our short respite at Bobby's. "But… it's Chuck, prophet of the lord and all that. Figure we should go see what it's about. He ain't answering our calls."

I nodded and swung my legs off the bed, "I take it we're leaving now?"

Dean paused in the open doorway and glanced back, nodding.

"Figures," I sighed, picking up my own bag, which I noticed he had already packed. "Can't ever catch a break. These last couple of days have been… nice."

He grimaced and held out his hand to me, squeezing my fingers as I took it in my own. "Yeah," he agreed. He hesitated, and a thought I couldn't quite read flashed across his face, before sinking behind guarded eyes. "You know we could just send Sam," he suggested. There was something in the quaver of his voice, which I couldn't place, something that scared me more than I'd been scaring myself these last few days. I made a note to pick it up right after this latest drama, in the meantime, I parked it in the waiting bay of the drive through of my mind.

"To a life and death situation?" I asked, letting my amusement slide over my face. Dean mirrored my smile, and shook his head softly.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Not our best option."

"I don't think so," I smiled. "No, it's… it's Chuck. It could be important, we can pick up here once we're done."

Vermillion, Ohio
Dean's POV

I was exhausted. Not that I was letting anyone in on that. Our encounter with Gabriel had been nerve wracking to say the least and we had hightailed it back to Sioux Falls to let Bobby know what was going on, and also have some much needed rest. Two days was all we'd been afforded before Chuck's text came in.

Vermillion, Ohio.

That's where he was, and there was a matter of life and death. No further details, and we'd hit the ground running.

Vermillion. By the shores of Lake Erie, the perfect spot for water spirits, and we'd found a few ghouls here in our time. My mind ran over and over the various possibilities of what we might find when we got there. I was wound up as tight as an elastic band about to snap. If we didn't get a break on something to help with this insane mission to kill the Devil, I didn't know what we were going to do.

"Pineview Hotel, there it is," Beth stated, pointing to a little old fashioned wood sign hanging near a driveway. I took the turn without signalling, and roared up the pavement to the front of the building. I spotted Chuck pacing by the steps and he then disappeared from view behind some bushes. I felt an urgency bubble up inside of me that had been well masked until now.

"Come on, there he is," I said, jumping out of the car. As I rounded the Impala, I stopped short, staring. Looking to the left I saw a row of Impalas, black, all parked next to the hotel.

"What the…"

"Whoa…" Beth breathed next to me. "That's kind of…

"Weird," I finished for her.

"Yeah."

"Hey!" Sam called out to us, already several yards away. "Come on!" Sam sprinted ahead toward Chuck, who hadn't noticed us yet. The prophet's feet drug heavily on the bitumen at the foot of the stairs leading up to the hotel. "Chuck! There you are!" Sam announced as he approached.

Chuck's expression was not the relief I was expecting to see. In fact, he looked downright surprised at our approach.

"Guys?" He asked, his eyes widening, and then a frown creased his brow.

"What's going on?" I asked, stepping up to him.

"Ah, nothing. You know, I'm just kinda hanging," he replied with a shrug. His demeanour couldn't be less urgent, it certainly didn't fall into the life or death category of reactions.

"What are you guys doing here?" His question was genuine, which concerned me more.

"What do you mean, 'what are we doing here'?" Beth stepped in.

"You told us to come," I pointed out. Chuck shook his head, his curls bouncing slightly on his head.

"Ah, no I didn't," he said.

"Yeah,you did, you texted me. This address, life or death situation. Any of this ringing a bell?" Sam cut in. Chuck was looking just as perplexed as I was feeling. Was this some sort of joke?

"I didn't send you a text," he insisted. I felt my patience break, a telltale sign that our two days respite hadn't been enough.

"We drove all night!" I snapped.

"I'm sorry," Chuck said apologetically. "I don't understand what could…." he paused, looking as if a lightbulb went off inside his skull. "Oh no…"

"What?" I asked.

"Chuck? What's going on?" Beth said, crossing her arms over her chest, delivering him a stern look.

"Sam!" There was an excited squeal from the top of the stairs, and we all turned curiously at the noise, seeing a bubbly blonde jumping up and down near the front door. "You made it!" She quickly skipped down the worn cement stairs to land in front of our confused brother.

"Oh," Sam said, frowning and glancing at Beth who was kind of gaping in disbelief. "Ah, Becky, right?"

I recognised her once he said her name. The quirky little obsessed blonde who we'd met through Chuck about six months ago. She thought the world revolved around Sam, and that Beth was beautiful, and I was...not what she expected. Like what the hell did that mean anyway? I squared my shoulders and puffed out my chest, clearing my throat.

"Oh, you remembered," she said, staring up at Sam all moon-eyed. "You've been thinking about me." Her voice lowered and she tried to change her expression to something more seductive, but it just came off as slightly… psychotic to me. I rolled my eyes, looking over at Beth who was struggling to hide a smile.

Sam looked uncomfortably about. "I…"

"It's okay," she interrupted. "I can't get you out of my head either."

Chuck was looking more and more agitated by the minute, his eyes wide and sweeping between Becky and Sam.

"Becky, did you take my phone?" He asked pointedly. Becky's concentration on Sam was broken by the question, and she glanced sideways.

"I just borrowed it," she replied, "from your pants…" I couldn't tell if the little guy wanted to yell or cry, his face a mixture of frustration and embarrassment.

Chuck shook his head. "Becky…"

"What?" She asked. "They're gonna want to see it!"

My interest was instantly piqued, and terrified at the same time.

"See what?" I said in unison with Sam and Beth.

"Oh my God!" Becky squealed. "I love it when they all talk at the same time!"

"Is she kidding?" I muttered under my breath to Beth, who was looking as equally perplexed.

I found myself comparing the woman beside me to the erratic blonde practically panting in front of Sam. There was no competition. Beth's dark locks hung halfway down her back in waves, and she looked stylish and comfortable in jeans and a red shirt, with her black leather jacket over the top. Becky, on the other hand looked like something out of the Brady Bunch. Her long blonde hair was flawlessly straightened, a blue denim vest over a blue and white flannel shirt with short puffed sleeves. I didn't want to look again in case her attentions turned from my brother to me, but I was pretty sure she was wearing a brown skirt that hit her knees, socks pulled up to her knees and mary jane style shoes. I chuckled, thinking that you couldn't get two women more different.

"Hey Chuck!"

I looked up to the front of building and saw a chubby man with dark hair and a beard, holding a clipboard. "Come on pal," he continued. "It's showtime."

Becky let out a few short, excited breaths, and ran up the stairs after the man without any further words. Chuck grimaced, looking at us as if he was experiencing kidney stones. "Guys," he said, shaking his head. "I'm sorry…. For everything." Then he trudged ahead of us, up the stairs and disappeared from view.

"Well what the hell does that mean?" I asked, staring after him.

"I'm not sure I want to know…" Beth muttered under her breath.

"Only one way to find out," Sam said, taking the first step toward the stairs.

Beth's POV

Unlike the exterior, it was a hive of activity inside the hotel. As we stepped into the foyer a large, round faced man walked past in a brown leather jacket carrying a stein of beer. He looked us up and down and chuckled.

"Hahaha… hey Dean, looking good!" His familiarity with my husband was kind of creepy. How did he know who Dean was?

Dean frowned, watching as the man kept walking. "Who the hell are you?" He called out, clearly none the wiser over the stranger's identity than I was.

The man stopped and turned, a grin spreading across his face. For the first time I noticed the amulet hanging around his neck - the same one that Dean had always worn up until Cas took it to look for God.

"I'm Dean too," he said with a shrug, as if it were obvious. "Duh."

Something shadowy moved out of the corner of my eye and I startled, jumping back a step and drawing my gun.

"Hey, whoa!" Becky shrieked beside me. I felt Dean reach out, his hand not quite touching, but almost guiding me to relax. I took a deep breath, staring at the very same creepy scarecrow we'd come across in Indiana years ago.

The scarecrow turned to look at us, a scarred costume over his face. "Uh-oh!" He said, waving a can of soda in one hand, and his scythe in the other. "It's Dean and Beth, I'm in trouble now!" He did a little jig in front of us. "That things not real is it?" He asked, looking at my gun. I quickly tucked it into the back of my pants and he laughed, completely oblivious to how close I'd come to shooting him in the face.

"Have fun you guys! Aaaah!"

Becky was giggling beside us as Dean turned to look incredulously at her. "What is….?" His question was cut off by another shriek from nearby.

"Oh my god! You are the best looking Beth yet!" A blonde, in a halloween nurse's costume, declared. She ran up and started jumping excitedly in front of us as she looked me up and down.

"Uh what?" Dean asked. "Who are you?"

"Well, duh," she answered, putting her hand on her hip and rolling her eyes. "I'm Cole, your other sister! I know she's not as popular, but… she has sass." I looked over the girl and raised an eyebrow. I was pretty sure I'd never seen Cole get around in an actual nurse's costume, even when she was working at the hospital. Miss Cole seemed concerned at the raised eyebrow, quickly jumping in. "No offence, Beth is awesome too."

"Huh," I said with a glance at Dean who was staring wide-eyed in horror. "Yeah, thanks."

"Hey! We're all here, let's get a photo!" Said Cole. She handed Becky a camera and smiled. "Do you mind?"

Becky shook her head and jumped in front of the four of us before anyone could complain. "You guys look great!"

Nurse Cole struck a pose with us as Becky snapped a few pics, before giggling happily and taking back her camera. "Thanks guys, see you around!"

Dean was still staring with his mouth hanging open.

"You know Cole would shoot her if she could see this…" he said randomly and I laughed.

Becky started to walk further into the foyer, rounding a large pot plant that had been obscuring our view. I followed, and found a group of people assembled. I stopped short, Dean running into the back of me.

"Holy…" I was speechless. The room was filled with people dressed as every conceivable monster we'd ever come across - clowns, werewolves, demons, ghosts… I was pretty sure I could even see a skinny woman dressed in the same clothes Bobby wore...and Ash. Dotted around the room were tables with merchandise like coffee mugs sporting the Impala, the Supernatural books, posters of devil's traps and more.

"Becky, what is this?" Sam asked.

"It's awesome!" Becky replied as enthusiastically as she did everything else. "A Supernatural convention, the first ever."

Sam's facial expression said it all. This was not good. Dean still looked completely confused, as I returned to staring at other Deans, Beths and Sams in the room.

"Oh boy…" I muttered. This was going to be interesting.

Dean's POV

We were in my nightmares. I thought I'd had some pretty bad ones in the lead up to Hell, and worse after I'd gotten out. But even the ridiculous TV network gameshows Gabriel had put us through a week or so ago couldn't compare to this.

We were in a conference room, standing at the back of a small crowd, all seated and facing the stage opposite. The same man from earlier who had called out to Chuck stepped up to the microphone and smiled.

"Welcome to the first annual Supernatural convention. At 3.45 in the Magnolia room we have the panel, 'Frightened little boy, the secret life of Dean'. And at 4.30 there's the 'Homoerotic subtext of Supernatural.'"

Wait… the what?

What the hell was he talking about, homoerotic subtext?!

I must have bristled beside Beth, because her hand shot out to squeeze my arm and I frowned, wondering if I could possibly be more unhappy with the whole situation.

"Oh, and of course the big hunt starts at 7pm sharp." There was a round of cheers and applause as the man nodded happily. "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!"

Chuck walked out on stage to even more applause, he nervously peered out at the group and jumped as the microphone fed back into a squeal.

"Okay," he said, chuckling. "Okay good, this isn't nearly as awkward as I..." his voice trailed off and he attempted to clear his throat. "Dry mouth…" Chuck stepped to the side and grabbed a bottle of water sitting on a chair nearby, twisting the cap off as people watched and waited. He took several long gulps of water, the sounds echoing through the room as silence met him from the expectant crowd.

"Okay." Chuck finally finished his drink. Turning back to the microphone. "Uh...ahem. So I guess...questions?"

Every hand in the room shot up except for Sam, Beth and me. Chuck looked startled at the enthusiasm and then pointed to a guy. "Uh...you?"

The man leaped to his feet, revealing that he was just as tall as Sam, and also dressed like my brother. I deduced that he was going for that look, and leaned forward to look pointedly at Sam who scowled at my silent grin.

"Hey, Mr Edlund. Uh...big fan," he said with a goofy smile. "I was just wondering, where'd you come up with Sam, Dean and Beth in the first place?

I smirked and crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow as Chuck looked up at the three of us standing behind the group. This was going to be interesting.

"Oh," Chuck said nervously. "Ah, I… it just came to me."

I dropped my head back, looking at the ceiling and felt my eyes roll into the back of my head. I was in Hell. No doubt about it - he couldn't even come up with a good cover story. N my sleep, I could lie better than him. Before us, hands shot into the air again.

"Ok. Yeah. The hook man," Chuck said. Another tall man, this time sporting a long brown leather coat, and an elaborate pirate hat with a large plume, along with a fake hook on his hand, stood up.

"Ah yah. Vhy in every fight scene, Sam, Beth and Dean are having their gun knocked away by the bad guy? Vhy don't they keep it on some kind of bungee?" He asked in a heavy German accent. I felt slightly insulted at the insinuation that we were clumsy. To my right, Sam and Beth both looked curious at the question, watching Chuck for an answer.

"I...yeah, I really don't know," Chuck replied. Boring. Hookman didn't stop to comment, jumping straight into the next question.

"Ja, follow up. Why can't Sam be telling that Ruby is evil? I mean she is clearly manipulating Sam into some kind of moral lapse. It's obvious, nein?" Now he was talking, I nodded, glancing over at Sam.

"And why didn't Dean tell Beth about her?!" Another woman called out from the crowd. Beth turned to raise an eyebrow at me.

"It's a good question," she said, crossing her arms. I realised that the question hadn't really put Sam or myself in a good light and cleared my throat, shifting nervously closer to Beth who watched me with a slight frown.

Becky seemed more perturbed than any of us by the questioning. She was off, racing down the side of the group and coming to a stop closest to Hookman. "HEY!" She shouted. "If you don't like the books don't read em Fritz!"

Fritz, as Hookman's name seemed to be, glanced awkwardly at Becky and then back at Chuck. "Okay," the latter said, raising his hand placatingly to Becky. "Okay, just..okay, it's okay. so, next question." More hands shot into the air and Chuck pointed to a girl. "Yeah, you."

"Yeah, why did you bring a baby into the books at all?" She asked. "I mean, it just seems a little cruel to put Beth and Dean through that."

Oh boy.

Beth took in a sharp breath beside me, and I met eyes with Sam over her head, worried.

"Yeah, hasn't she lost enough?" This time the nurse Cole from earlier jumped up, chiming in to the question with a scowl.

"Lost enough?" Another woman, this one dressed as a demon, asked. "It was completely pointless to the plot. I mean, really? Who gets pregnant in the middle of all this?" Beth opened her mouth, but nothing was coming out. I had to get us out of here, and fast.

Chuck swallowed hard, looking back at us. "Uh…."

"Come on, let's go," I decided, slipping my arm around Beth's waist and guiding us to the door.

"Well…" Chuck started to answer as we attempted to leave, "sometimes…. Sometimes we need to experience great sorrow..in order to love...'"

Beth stopped short, turning to look incredulously at him. I locked eyes with her, my hand squeezing her arm.

"Is he kidding?" She asked, eyes flicking back to Chuck and the stage, where he was looking at us in terror..

"Beth…" I cautioned, hoping we could just get out of the room before we all shot Chuck dead.

"Really?" She asked louder.

Chuck cleared his throat as I pushed her toward the door.

"Uh, next question?" Chuck asked.

"Yeah, at the end of the last book, Dean goes to Hell. So, what happens next?" This time I stopped. Sam pushed the door in front of us open, but none of us were moving.

"Yeah, what about Beth? You can't keep them apart forever!" Nurse Cole called out.

"Forget about Beth! What about Sam? He has to feel so guilty, and it's not his fault!" Another voice from the crowd.

"Oh. Well there lies an announcement, actually. You're all going to find out," Chuck said. His gaze darted over toward the three of us, paused on the threshold of the room.

"Thanks to a wealthy Scandinavian investor…. we're going to start publishing again."

The room erupted into yelling and cheers, people leaped out of their seats, clamoring for a chance to clap Chuck on the back. Becky squealed in front of us, jumping up and down.

All I could think about was whiskey…. It was going to take a lot of whiskey to improve this day.

Beth's POV

Chuck and Becky were sitting at a little table, two elaborate yellow cocktails in front of them when we found them. Becky's eyes lit up as soon as she spotted Sam next to us, and she beamed a smile that could have doubled as a lighthouse on the cliffs of Dover.

"Oh, hi Sam!"

Sam nodded at her slightly, clearly uncomfortable with the attention, as Dean stepped in, peering at Chuck.

"Excuse us," he said. "In case you haven't noticed, our plates are kind of full, okay? Finding the Colt, hunting the devil. We don't have time for this crap."

Becky was batting her eyes and rolling her neck to flip her hair around in an obvious attempt to send Sam some come hither looks, and he was trying not to notice the poor smitten girl. Right now, I was too furious to even feel sorry for her.

"Hey, I didn't call you!" Chuck exclaimed.

"He means the books, Chuck. Why are you publishing more books?" Sam cut in.

Chuck shrugged, stumbling over his words. "Um...for food and shelter?"

"Food… and shelter?" I spluttered. Even though it was Chuck, there was a rage building inside of me that was telling me just pull my gun… and shoot him. Archangel protection be damned.

"Who gave you the rights to our life story?" Dean asked, leaning over the table and getting right in Chuck's face. That made me nervous for a moment, after all, when it came to going off on a tangent, Dean tended to jump faster than I did… I looked up, waiting for that piercing white light to appear if we pushed this too far.

"An Archangel, and I didn't want it!" Chuck replied without batting an eyelid. Dick, I thought.

"Well, deal's off, okay? No more books. Our lives are not for...public consumption." Sam glanced at Becky as he said this, and the hungry look in her eyes said it all. She turned slowly to stare at Chuck, her expression one of slight horror. She was clearly hoping he was going to have the balls to stand up to us.

"Ah..Becky. Would you excuse us for just a second?" Chuck asked.

"Uh-huh," Becky said, nodding quickly. Chuck stood up and led the way out into the hallway, the three of us following.

"Do you guys know what I do for a living?" He asked, turning to look at us with frustration.

"Yeah Chuck, we know," Sam replied. I glanced sideways at the man, frowning. I had no idea what he did really.

"Then could you tell me? Cause I don't, alright?" Chuck said. "I'm not a good writer. I've got no marketable skills. I'm not some hero who can just hit the road and fight monsters, okay? Until the world ends, I gotta live, all right? And the Supernatural books are all I've got. What else do you want me to do?"

A scream pierced the room, echoing down the stairs.

"Dean…" I said, already pulling my gun but leaving it at my side as I started to take the stairs two at a time. Dean was hot on my heels, followed by Sam.

Dean's POV

There was a woman who looked like a maid when we got to the top of the stairs. Sam dove in, his puppy dog eyes worried and piercing as he helped her to her feet.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asked. Beth had drawn her gun and dropped it to her side, even with the apparent danger gone, she didn't put it away. I raised an eyebrow in her direction, caught her looking at me. She shrugged. I shot her a look that basically said "are you crazy?" She shook her head at me, I scowled… she put the gun away with a frown.

"I think so," the maid was saying as she caught her balance.

"What happened?" I asked, turning my attention from trigger-happy wife to damsel in distress.

"I saw a ghost," the woman said.

"A ghost?" A deep… fake… voice said from behind me. "Could you tell us what it looked like?" I turned to find myself face to face with the tall skinny, Sam wannabe from the audience earlier.

"Why don't you leave this to the grownups pal," I said, but I was largely ignored as I turned back to the woman, now speaking, and looking a lot less worried for her safety.

"A woman," she said. "She was in an old fashioned dress. Really old. Like a school marm, or something?"

"Did she say something to you?" This time another voice. I caught Beth carefully eyeing the crowd gathering behind us. Then the maid smiled.

Not really what you'd expect by someone traumatised by a ghost.

"Okay," she said, holding her hands out to her side, then raising her voice. "Gather close everybody, for a terrifying tale of terror. I saw, a ghost!"

"Oh...my...God," Beth muttered, shaking her head.

""None other than the ghost of Leticia Gore herself! I was on the third floor getting ice for a guest…"

Sam shot our resident actress-maid one of his bitch face expressions and then turned and walked. Beth and I followed him down the hallway a couple of yards.

"Ooooh, the LARPing's started!" Becky exclaimed, pushing around the crowd and joining us. Her expression was filled with the excitement of a ten year old at a Barbie birthday party.

"The...What is that again?" I asked.

"Live Action Role Playing? It's a game. The convention puts it on," she supplied, then handed Sam a piece of paper. I tried to get a closer look, it was a plain old piece of copy paper, but Sam's face turned sullen as he read it.

"What's it say Sam?" Beth asked, moved beside him.

"Dad's Journal," Sam replied. I looked up sharply, my eyes locking with Beth's as he continued to read. "'Dear Beth, Sam and Dean, this hotel is haunted. You must hunt down the ghost. Interview witnesses, discover clues, and find the bones. First team to do so wins a $50 gift card to Sizzler. Love Dad'."

"You guys are sooooo gonna win!" Becky said.

"This is ridiculous," I exclaimed.

"Yeah, for a start, Dad and I barely talked, so why am I mentioned?" Sam asked.

"He's got a point," Beth agreed. I couldn't believe they were even arguing the point on this one. There was so much more than just a phony diary entry to take contention with here, I didn't even know where to start.

"Uhhh…. It's uhhhhh," Becky was struggling to find words. I found myself a little relieved that she didn't have an answer for everything. That whiskey was looking a lot better from where I was standing. I was a couple of shots away from getting in the Impala and going back to Sioux Falls.

Beth's POV

The LARPing had quickly turned into one major treasure hunt. The majority of the Winchester wannabes had changed into suits, accompanied by their fake FBI badges, and were currently badgering the convention manager.

"Well yes Agents Lennon and McCartney, as manager of this fine establishment I can assure you that it is indeed haunted," said the dark haired man from earlier, clearly playing his part. "This building was once an orphanage, run by mean old Leticia Gore. 100 years ago this very night, Miss Gore went insane, and butchered four little boys before killing herself. Now folks say that the souls of those poor little boys are trapped here and the evil spirit of Miss Gore punishes them to this very day."

"Well that's just about all the community theatre I can take," Dean commented randomly.

"Yeah, this cannot get any weirder," Sam said.

The tall guy from the conference, and chubby Dean from when we arrive wandered past, deep in conversation, oblivious to us standing nearby.

"Dad said…. He said I may have to kill you," Dean said to the startled looking brother.

"Kill me? What the hell does that mean?" The tall Sam replied.

"I don't know," his partner replied. They wandered out of hearing range as I turned to lock eyes with Dean, the same reaction clear in his expression. We'd just hit a point of no return, and there was only one thing to save us from the joy of all the participants in our very own nightmare conference.

"I need a drink," we said at the same time.

Whiskey. Straight up. And keep 'em coming.

Dean's POV

Beth had wandered off to the bathroom, I was in charge of lining up the drinks, and making sure we didn't run out. I downed a shot glass of whiskey and waved the bartender over. Sam slid onto the stool beside me, a beer in his hand, as he stared into the frothy substance.

"Pour me six, barkeep…. And keep 'em coming," I announced, slapping a hundred dollar bill down on the smooth wooden surface before us. I had two options, my morose and sulking brother to the right, or, to the left…a woman dressed in an old fashioned dress with white foundation on her face…. Letitia Gore ghost perhaps? For a ghost, she was incredibly with the times, tapping on her phone. I smiled, and summoned a line.

A ghostly vision. No.

A pale copy of the original… uh, no.

A talented… oh screw this.

"How you doing?" I asked, going for the old tried and true, Joey Tribbiani. God I watch too much TV.

"Busy," she replied, not even looking up. I rolled my eyes, clearly I had to do better.

"Well you sure look lovely tonight. Especially for a dead chick," I commented. She practically snorted, still staring down at her phone.

"Buddy, I have heard that line 17 times tonight, ok? And all from dudes wearing MacGyver jackets…" her voice faltered slightly at the end of her rant as she looked up and got the full Dean treatment. I grinned, waiting. Finally a smile as she assessed.

"But you seem different," she said, leaning forward slightly and running her eyes up and down my body.

"How so?" I teased, knowing I had her hook, line and sinker.

"Well," she replied, sliding off her stool and taking a step closer. "You don't seem scared of women."

Movement pushed in between us in a black leather jacket, a flurry of wavy hair, as Beth reached out and grabbed a shot from in front of me, lifting it to her mouth and then flipping her head back as she downed it in one mouthful.

I turned to watch appreciatively as she flipped the shot glass upside down and slammed it down on the bar, taking the next in line.

"That's…" She paused her thought to knock back a second shot. "...because he's married to one," Beth said, the second shot glass quickly joining the other. "Right Dean?"

It had been a long time since I'd seen a flash of insecurity, or jealousy, from Beth. It gave me pause for thought. Had I really been flirting with ghost girl? More than usual? I opened my mouth to answer Beth when a raucous started behind us.

"For the last time I'm not making this up, okay?" Said a clearly upset guy in a Sam-style khaki jacket, to a scrawny little guy in a leather jacket (clearly wanting to be me). "She's upstairs, a real live dead ghost!" It was then that I noticed the blood trickling down the side of the guy's face.

I exchanged a curious look with Sam, whose body language had changed instantly from morose to intrigued, and then kissed Beth on the cheek.

"Excuse me," I said to both the ladies, pushing away from the bar and walking toward the pair.

"I'm sure it was just one of the ghost actors," fake Dean was trying to reassure his friend.

"Who beat the hell out of me and then vanished?" fake Sam asked.

As I started to open my mouth, Beth pushed past me and smiled at the boys. "Hey, I'm Beth, you want to tell me what happened? You saw a ghost?"

"What happened?" Sam asked, looking at her, and then at his friend. "What… are you for real, this isn't a joke!"

"Who said I'm joking?" Beth asked, her face sober.

"You saw something?" Sam stepped in.

"This isn't part of the game, jerk," he said to Sam, before looking at his friend. "Look, I'm getting out of here and you should do the same." Without further argument the guy turned on his foot and walked out of the room.

"Alex, wait," his friend called out. "Hey, come back!"

The three of us watched together as the pair moved quickly into the crowded lobby.

"What do you think?" Sam asked.

"I don't think that guy's a good enough an actor to be acting," I replied. The night was starting to get interesting.

Beth's POV

This was going to be a long night. I had lost out on the vote to return to the bar and keep drinking. I agreed with Dean, something had clearly upset Alex, but right now I wasn't sure I cared.

"Why yes agents Jagger and Richards. As manager of this fine establishment I can assure you it is indeed haunted…." the conference manager was in fine form, spieling his script for every Tom, Dick and Harry around. We were headed for the front desk, where hopefully there was a greater likelihood of getting real information.

"Excuse us, mind if we ask you a few questions?" Dean asked, getting there first. The Hotel Manager, a middle-aged balding man in a dark suit, rolled his eyes when he saw us.

"Look, I don't have time to play Star Wars guys. Go ask the guy in the ascot," he said, looking back down at his paperwork.

I slapped a fifty dollar bill down on the desk, and slid it across to him. "We'll only take a minute of your time," I said, Dean nodding beside me.

"Yeah...we ah...really want to talk to you," he added.

The manager looked appreciatively at the money, looking from Dean, all the way to me. "Okay," he said with a chuckle. "You guys are really into this."

"Story of our life buddy," I commented.

"You have no idea," Sam agreed.

"What do you want to know?" He asked, taking the money and sliding it into his jacket pocket.

"All this stuff they're saying. This place being haunted. Leticia Gore. Any truth to it?" Sam asked, looking around the lobby.

The man nodded slightly, and leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping. "We generally don't like to publicise this to...normal people...but yeah. 1909 this place was called 'Gore Orphanage'. Miss Gore, killed four boys with a butchers knife, then offed herself."

"And is tonight really her anniversary?" Dean asked, mirroring my thoughts exactly.

"Yep, guess your convention folks want authenticity," the manager confirmed.

My stomach was sinking, and it wasn't just the whiskey shots. Part of me was starting to see how all our hunts started, before we got there to save the day. I didn't like it any better knowing that we were possibly ahead of the game this time.

"There been any sightings?" Sam continued.

"Yep, over the years. A few maids have quit saying they heard the boys or saw them. A janitor even saw Miss Gore once."

"Where did Miss Gore carve up the kids," Dean cut in, straight to the point. The manager hesitated, glancing around at our surroundings.

"Look, I don't want you stomping all over the joint. A lot of this place is off limits to nerds," he said. That was my cue. I slid another fifty across the desk to him, and leaned forward, showing off some of my cleavage in the tight red shirt I was wearing.

"Do we look like nerds to you?" I asked sweetly. Part of me was still smarting from Dean's innocent flirtation with the ghost girl earlier, I wasn't even sure why.

The manager reached a hand toward the fifty, but his eyes were all on the one place I intended them to be. He swallowed and then whispered softly. "The attic."

Dean's POV

It was a tight fit getting into the attic through the half-door crawl space, especially with big boofhead Sam, but as soon as we were in there the EMF was going wild.

"The EMF's going nuts," Sam announced unnecessarily. I looked warily around with the room, not seeing much of anything given we only had flashlights to go by. The few items lit up by our light were covered in dust, as if they hadn't been moved in decades. An old doll's pram, some shelving, books and boxes of random items.

"Great," I muttered, glancing sideways as Beth wriggled into the room beside me. "We got a real ghost, and we got a bunch of dudes pretending to be us poking at it."

"Awesome," Beth chimed in. "So we just found our life and death situation. Thanks Chuck!"

"No way this ends well," Sam agreed.

"Yeah well serves them right," I replied, earning a light getting shone in my face by Sam.

"Dean…." his tone was a warning.

"I'm just saying," I answered.

"I'm getting sick of other people's stupidity being our responsibility," Beth added in.

"Well," Sam paused, clearly trying to think of a good answer. "You know you guys could…"

"What?" I jumped in. "Retire, Sammy? Because we already did that…. Kinda."

"You know, no one asked you to come after me," Sam countered. I bristled, feeling my back muscles tighten, shoulders pull back as I pushed out my chest involuntarily, and I squinted at him under the cover of darkness.

"Yeah well, wouldn't have stopped you killing Lilith…. you were being stupid!"

"Like I said…" Beth muttered under her breath.

"No one made you guys the goddamn saviours of the planet," Sam retorted.

"Huh. Well, Cas kind of did…" I said.

"Cas pulled you out of Hell to be a puppet to a bunch of dick angels."

"Yeah, to save the planet from the Devil!"

"By wiping it off the map, good one Dean," Sam snorted.

"My mommy loves me."

"Did you hear that?" Beth asked beside me.

I froze, then spun around in the direction a little kid's voice.

"Yeah," I replied, trying to focus in on where the sound had come from, shining my flashlight to the left. "Sounded like Sammy, whining again…."

"Shut up Dean!" Sam cursed, and then his light hit on something crouched in the corner.

"There!" Beth said, focused. She shone her light where Sam's had been pointing, and I saw a little boy hunched over and holding his head. Beth stepped in closer, crouching down a few feet away while Sam and I moved up behind her. The boy spotted us, and peered up at Beth.

"I said my mommy loves me," he repeated.

"I'm sure she does," Beth replied gently.

"My mommy loves me this much!" The boy moved his hands away from his head and I took a step back, stifling a gasp of disgust. The kid's hair had been partially scalped away, leaving a huge chunk of bloody skin. Then he vanished.

"What the….?"

"Yeah," Beth said, standing up and I could see the fury in her eyes, lit up by the light from our flashlights. "This isn't gonna end well."

Beth's POV

Sam had been given the unenviable task of tracking down what history knew of Letitia Gore and the demise of the children in Gore Orphanage. I stood in the bathroom, hands resting against the cold porcelain sink as I stared in the mirror. The eyes looking back at me seemed alien, as if somewhere in the last few months I'd lost touch with the person I'd once been. I reached down and cupped my hands under the running water, and splashed my face.

"When it comes to Sam, Jess was the love of his life," a woman's voice said as the door to the bathroom swung open. A trio of giggling twenty-something girls barrelled into the room in jeans and leather jackets.

"No, seriously, Ruby. He loved Jess, but Ruby was practically his soulmate," the brunette said, her hair pulled back in a high ponytail.

"Ruby? She was a demon, she didn't love him at all!" The blonde retorted, leaning closer to the mirror beside me. "Right honey?"

"I wouldn't know," I murmured, shutting off the water.

"Well, you wouldn't," she replied with a raised eyebrow. "You're clearly a Dean girl."

"Yeah… clearly," I said, grabbing a piece of paper towelling and drying my hands.

"I think Sam's soul mate was Jo," said the other girl in the group, this one more petite, shyly offering her opinion as she glanced toward me.

The brunette snorted. "Jo! If Jo should have been with anyone it was Dean…you know I think something needs to be said for Evie and Sam…."

"Who the Hell is Evie?" the blonde asked as I rolled my eyes and opened the door, not stopping to add any further to the conversation. I practically ran out the door and bumped into Dean, coming in the other direction.

"Hey!" He said, stepping in beside me. "There you are."

"Yeah, here I am Dean," I snapped, instantly feeling bad about it when I saw the surprised look in his eyes.

"What's going on with you?" He asked.

I paused, glancing behind us as a group of Winchester wannabes ambled by, chattering about a map to find the body of Letitia Gore. I needed another drink.

"Nothing," I replied, pushing ahead of the group and skipping down the stairs, Dean followed close behind.

"Nothing my ass," he said, grabbing my arm and pulling me off to the side of the stairs as we reached the bottom. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

I sucked in a deep breath, melting under the intense gaze of those apple-green eyes. "Now isn't really the time."

"When is?" He asked, rolling his eyes. "It's the freaking Apocalypse."

"Exactly!" I agreed. "You know that girl had a point."

"What girl?"

"The one in the room, earlier, about why Chuck made me have a baby in the middle of everything going on."

Dean's shoulders straightened, and I was certain his eyes darkened as he reached out and grasped my arms.

"Beth. Chuck didn't make you have a baby, it just happened," he said softly. I sighed, nodding.

"I know, I know that," I said. "But you gotta admit, it was shitty timing on our part Dean."

"Yeah well…. Well…. That's life. You know? It's what happens when you're busy making other plans."

"And what about next time?" I asked.

"Next time?"

"Yeah, Dean. Next time. Next time we have an accident, or … whatever." I couldn't bring myself to tell him about Gabriel's announcement. I couldn't find the words, nor even wrap my mind around how to say it. Dean's hands squeezed slightly, pulling me back into myself even more. I met his gaze straight on, unflinching.

"What's this about?" He asked. "Are you?"

"No!" I cut in quickly, shaking my head. "But… but I could be… one day. Maybe" Soon...if Gabriel is anything to go by.

"Yeah, of course, but like perhaps we should save the world first, huh?" Dean's smile flashed up nonchalantly, which made me return a wistful smile to him.

"Yeah… you're right. I mean, let's face it. We're most likely gonna die anyway." There's the spirit. Plan to die before you ruin another baby's life!

"Hey! Don't say that. Never say that."

"Think about it Dean, I'm surprised one of us isn't dead already," I countered.

"Nobody is going to die, you hear me?" Dean replied stubbornly as he pulled me closer and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. I leaned into his warmth, feeling his chin come to rest on the top of my head as he tightened his grip around me. "Ain't nobody dying on my watch, sugarpie."

Dean's POV

I watched Sam pacing by the bar, still on the phone, while waving the bartender down and signalling for him to top up our shot glasses. When the hell had Sam become the least of my concerns? I wondered this as Beth plonked onto the stool beside me and grabbed the nearest shot glass, downing the whiskey in one go.

Becky, in all her virginal blonde obsessiveness was sitting at a table with Chuck, starring moon eyed at Sam. I watched curiously as she smiled, licked the middle of her hand and then blew a kiss to him. Ewww! Beth's splutter beside me as she choked back a second shot, told me that the move hadn't gone unnoticed on her end either. Sam froze, a perplexed expression on his face as he half waved at her in reply. Becky winked and then Sam turned and practically ran toward Beth and I, stuffing his phone into his back pocket.

"All right. So that was a guy with the County Historical Society," he announced.

"And…?" I asked, picking up a shot glass and sipping at the smooth liquid.

"Not only did Leticia Gore butcher four boys, but one of them was her own son," Sam replied.

"Her son?" Beth asked, sucking in a breath.

"Yeah. According to the police at the time, she scalped the kid," Sam said. Ah, I thought. That's the mommy's boy upstairs. Beth looked down into her empty shot glass and frowned.

"How does someone do that to their child?" She asked softly.

"Oh that's it," I said, a piece of me breaking at the fragility of Beth's voice. "I'm gonna deep fry this bitch extra crispy. Dude say where she was buried?"

"He doesn't know," Sam answered.

"Check it out!" Said a deep gravelly voice behind us. "There's the orphanage, here's the carriage house, and right there... cemetery."

Tall Sam and fat me were sitting at the table, hovering over an old map using disturbingly deep voices that not even I could pull off.

"You think that's where Leticia's planted?" Dean, who I'd also found out went by Demian, asked.

"It's worth a shot," said Sam, also known as Barnes. The real Sam was already at the table, reaching out and running his fingers over the map.

"Hey, hey!" Barnes called out, reaching for Sam's arm as Demian grabbed the map out of Sam's hand and folded it while looking at us with a stern, chastising frown.

"Do you mind?"

"It's real," Sam said, looking up at me. "A century old, at least, and he's right, there is a cemetery on the grounds."

"Where'd you get that?" I asked, looking a Demian.

"It's called a game pal. It ain't called charity," he replied in the same deep voice.

I sighed, shaking my head. "Yeah, right," I said. "Gimme the map, Chuckles."

"Yeah well you're the Chuckles, Chuckles. Besides, Dean don't listen to nobody." The guy pulled back the brown leather jacket he was wearing. Tucked into the waistband of his pants was a plastic red and yellow watergun. I almost laughed at the absurdity, and heard Beth snigger behind me.

"Dean!" Said Barnes, still in character as Sam. "Cool it."

I'd had enough. I pulled my Taurus, but Sam wasn't having any of it. "Dean!"

I paused, he shook his head at the gun I was still holding at my waist level.

"What?!" I asked. "They're freakin' annoying."

"Dean," Beth said with a frown, "put the gun away."

I sighed, looking at her. How could she betray me like that? We stared at each other for a moment, and I knew I wasn't going to win this argument. With a shrug, I tucked the gun back into my pants.

"See?" I said to the two chuckleheads. "You're wrong about Dean."

"Yeah?" Asked Demian.

"Yeah," I nodded, lifting my chin in Beth's direction. "I listen to her."

Beth smiled and stepped in closer. "Sometimes…"

I grinned back. "More than you know."

It was a moment we hadn't had in awhile, and then drunken Dean had to come in and ruin it. I watched, almost as if side lined, while a third Dean in a brown leather jacket staggered away from the bar and slipped his arm around Beth's shoulders.

"So uh… tonight? Maybe we could get our own motel room? Give Sammy a break from us."

Beth, god bless her, was incredibly restrained given that the kid couldn't have been more than a few days over the legal age to drink. She stepped out of the embrace, flashing me an incredulous look.

"I'm gonna kill him," I muttered as Sam reached out one of his monster arms and pushed me back a step.

"Dean…." he cautioned.

"Hey, hey, hey sugarpie, don't run away…" drunk Dean said, following after her and grabbing her arm. I saw red and pulled my gun.

"No, I'm really gonna…"

Beth moved faster than I did. With one simple twist she had his arm at a right angle, pushed up behind his back as his cheek was pressed into the table Demian and Barnes had been occupying.

"Ow!" the guy called out. "Sugarpie!"

"You know what Dean?" Beth said. "I'm still pissed at you for leaving me behind and going to Hell. So no, no we won't be getting our own room, honey." She emphasized this by smacking him upside the head before releasing him and stepping back beside me. I sighed, and tucked the gun back into my jeans while the drunken fool stumbled to his feet.

"Jesus, all right! Bitch. I'm gonna go find myself a Lisa…" he muttered before walking off. I stuck out my boot and felt leather connect with jean, then timber down went the moron on to the couch nearby.

"Dean!" Sam chastised.

"What?" I asked innocently. "He tripped."

Sam rolled his eyes and I glared at my brother. "That guy is lucky to be alive right now," I said under my breath. Sam shook his head and looked back at the Dean and Sam impersonators still standing next to us.

"Look, guys, don't worry about that guy, let's talk about the map," Sam said, cutting in. "We all wanna find the bones right? We just thought...it would go faster if we all worked together."

Sam was the king of reasoning. Beth and I never had mastered that puppy dog look. It seemed to me that the chuckleheads were going for it as they exchanged looks, having their own unspoken conversation.

"Ahem. We..ah...we get the sizzler gift card," Barnes said.

"Fine," I said.

"And we get to be Sam and Dean," Demian pushed. I instantly had my back up at that, but when Sam turned his puppy dog look on me, I knew I had to just get this over with so we could deal with the ghost and move on.

"Fine," I grumbled.

Beth's POV

It was dark, but at least it was a balmy evening and not cold. The pathway outside the conference centre was lit up by exterior lighting, which made for a pleasant change from the usual. Demian and Barnes followed a pathway through the car park, glancing back at us.

"Hey, Rufus, Bobby, Beth would you hurry it up?" Demian asked, not waiting for an answer and plowing ahead into the garden.

"Are you all right?" I asked, glancing sideways at Dean who had a permanent scowl across his face.

"I'm trying to be," he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he stared holes into Demian and Barnes' backs. "Can you believe that dude back there? Like… seriously?" I sniggered and slipped my arm into Dean's, leaning against him as we walked, enjoying the feel of him pushing back against me.

"Like he even had a chance," I smiled, pressing my lips to his cheek.

"So where were we?" Barnes asked Demian suddenly and the latter looked thoughtfully into the night sky before nodding.

"Ah, Wendigo. The camp site."

I shuddered. Not one of my favourite hunts. Any hunt that led to Dean and I being separated was never a good one.

"Right, got it," Barnes said with a nod. "Ahem…. 'Then let's get these people back to town and let's hit the road. Go find Dad. I mean why are we still even here?'" His voice changed when he was playing Sam, and I couldn't help but smile. Dean and Sam were gaping at the pair, but I had to admit, I kind of liked their dedication to their art.

"'This is why,'" Demian said in his deep Dean voice, holding up a tatty book in the air. "'This book. This is Dad's single most prized possession - everything he knows about every evil thing is in here. And he's passed it on to us.'"

Sam and Dean were back to frowning, I was starting to get angry again at how much detail Chuck had put into the books. There were moments, I knew from when we found the books originally, that detailed a great deal of intimacy between Dean and I, it still infuriated me. Nothing was sacred.

Demian and Barnes turned to look at me expectantly, and I shrugged my shoulders.

"What?"

"She's not very good at this…" Demian said to Barnes.

"Just do her lines too - they pretty much think the same anyway," Barnes said. "See that's the difference between you two and me. I got a mind of my own."

Demian scowled at the taller man. "You really shouldn't talk about Beth like that," he cautioned.

"Why not? Dean and her are like siamese twins, they think the same, they act the same, they both follow John's orders like they're gospel…"

I stared between the both of them, and they seemed to reach some sort of agreement because after a moment of silence they nodded and then turned back to the book.

"Wow, really?" I asked.

"'So what are ya going to do Sam? Are you going to kill us?'" Demian asked, back in character.

"'Man I am so sick of you telling me what to do!'" Barnes replied.

"All right, you know what?" Dean snapped beside me, pulling away. "That's it. That. Is. It."

Everyone stopped walking. "What's wrong Bobby?" Barnes asked.

Dean spluttered, momentarily lost for words, until, "I'm not Bobby, okay? You're not Sam. You're not Dean. What is wrong with you? Why in the hell would you choose to be these guys?" The boys looked a bit startled by the question, as if no one had ever asked it of them before.

Barnes frowned, and said in a normal voice, "because we're fans. Like you."

"No. I am not a fan, okay? Not fans. In fact, I think that the Dean, Beth 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 nut house. So you listen to me. Their pain is not for your amusement. I mean do you think they enjoy being treated like... like circus freaks?"

Demian's look of amusement was clear. "Uh...I don't think they care, because they're fictional characters!"

"Oh they care. Believe me. They care a lot!" Dean snapped before storming down the path and leaving us all behind. I met Sam's stunned look with one of my own.

"He..uh...he takes the story really seriously," Sam said, turning to look apologetically at Demian and Barnes. I sighed, starting to lose sight of Dean, and jogging after him.

"See?" Barnes said before I was out of hearing range. "I told you. Joined at the hip."

Dean's POV

It was clear as day that Tweedledum and Tweedledee were not familiar with trampling around cemeteries in the middle of the night. While Sam, Beth and I were moving methodically from row to row, shining our flashlights on the graves, they were looking at the ground. Like they were going to find anything there.

"Dean," Beth called out, and I crossed the couple yards to where she was standing.

"Yeah, that's them," I agreed, looking at the names where she was shining her light. "We found the boys," I called out for Sam's benefit more than anyone else's.

"And here's Letitia Gore," Sam replied from a row away. I looked up, and saw Demian and Barnes tip toeing around the edge of the graveyard, looking into bushes.

"Ah… what are you guys doing?" I asked.

"'We're looking for bones genius. They gotta be around here somewhere.'" Demian replied in his Dean voice.

Beth giggled almost hysterically at that, and I turned to look at her for a moment as she choked back another laugh and snorted.

"Okay…" I said, turning back to the boys. "Generally, bones are in the ground."

Sam dumped his bag on the ground and leaned down to unzip it as Demian and Barnes exchanged a worried look.

"'Yeah, I know that. I just….'" Demian paused as he watched Sam pull a shovel out of his bag. "Wait, hold on. Are you guys serious?"

"Deadly," I replied as Sam handed me the spade.

"We're not really digging up graves you guys," Barnes said, looking a little pale, "we're just playing a game…so…."

"Trust us," I said, with my best smile. "You wanna win the game, right?"

Beth's POV

I hated grave digging. Out of my whole time with the Winchesters and hunting, it was still the number one thing on my hate list. Dean had taken over the digging for a while, we were nearing the depth where you'd normally start hitting something wooden, and just like that, thud. Metal hit wood. I stepped to the edge of the hole we'd been digging, and shone my light down at Dean while he knelt down, and pried the lid off by hand.

The wind kicked up immediately. I glanced around, alert for any supernatural beings. Sam shared the same warning look with me while Demian and Barnes continued being oblivious. Dean grunted and there was the sickening sound of wood cracking open as he lifted the lid, revealing the earthly remains of Letitia Gore in all their deteriorated glory. Beside me Demian gagged at the sight.

"That's not a plastic skeleton," he pointed out. "That's a... that's a skeleton skeleton."

"You just dug up a real grave," Barnes said.

"Yeah," Dean agreed. The boys exchanged a couple of anxious looks before looking over at Sam.

"You guys are nuts," Demian accused.

"I thought you guys wanted to be hunters," Sam said with an amused tone.

"Hunters aren't real man," Demian said, flinging his arm around. "This isn't real."

The two of them turned to walk away. "My God," Barnes said as they moved. "You guys have seriously lost your grip on this…." He glanced back at us, and froze, his face draining to white.

"What?" Sam asked.

I looked up from the other side of the grave to where Sam was standing. I wasn't close enough.

"Naughty, naughty, naughty!" Said the spirit of a seriously pissed off looking spirit in an old fashioned nightgown and long, messy hair. She backhanded Sam and he was sent flying across several graves. Demian and Barnes screamed and turned to run.

"Beth!" Dean called out, pointing to the bag Sam had been carrying. I scrambled toward it, fighting my first instinct to go after Sam. The spirit had turned on Demian and Barnes as they scrambled through the underbrush, desperately trying to get away.

"Oh my God!" Demian called out as I rummaged through the bag, seeing Dean pull himself out of the grave.

"Naughty, naughty, naughty!" Gore whispered again, pushing her hands into the boys' chests as I tossed a can of salt to Dean and he turned to shake it over the corpse. I grabbed a bottle of kerosene and joined him, pouring it over the salt as Dean reached into his pocket for his lighter, flicking it open and dropping it into the grave. I spun, seeing the spirit instantly disappear from in front of Demian and Barnes, who were left gasping for breath. A few yards away, Sam lifted himself to his feet and shook the dirt from his jacket.

"Real enough for you?" Dean asked, receiving a horrified look from the two freshly christened hunters.

Dean's POV

I'd finally made my point.

By the time we got back to the hotel, and poured a few dozen shots of whiskey into Tweedledee and Tweedledum, I was feeling pretty damn pleased with myself. Demian was on his third shot as Barnes sat beside him, staring into an empty glass.

"That was….really…"

"Awful," I supplied. "Right?" The boys turned to look at me and Sam behind them, their look saying everything. "Exactly. Round's on us guys." I slapped a fifty dollar bill on the bar and patted Barnes on the shoulder.

"See you around," Sam said and we both turned to go find Beth.

"Hey. How'd you know how to do all that?" Demian asked.

We paused, looking back. "We… uh… we read the books," Sam said after a moment. I nodded in agreement then turned to where Chuck was standing with the convention manager.

"Hey Chuck," I called out. "Good luck with the Supernatural books, and screw you very much."

Where the hell was Beth? Sam was already leading the way out of the lounge into the lobby. I spotted Beth talking to Becky, but she gratefully pulled away with a fake smile when she saw us.

"Time to go?" I asked, seeing her nod vehemently. "Yeah. I agree."

Sam pushed on the doors out, and nothing.

"What?" I asked, reaching out and pushing against the exit myself. They didn't budge.

"That's weird," I said.

"Definitely," Sam agreed.

"Try the window," I suggested, and Beth moved to comply. She checked the lock, and then strained to push it up, giving up after a moment with a grunt and shake of her head.

Sam had crossed the room and was attempting to exit from another door.

I sighed, calling out to Sam. "Hey! Anything?" He shook his head back at us from across the room.

"Every exit's locked. Almost like…" I got a sinking feeling in my stomach, one that I knew from experience was telling me that the party was long from over… and…

"We missed something," Beth said, finishing my thought.

"Something's keeping us in?" I asked, getting a nod in reply. I knocked my fist against the window for good measure. Damn it!

"Yeah. This is bad," Sam said, overhearing the last of the conversation.

"Gee, ya think Sammy?" I asked. My mind was racing. How were we going to get the doors open? It reminded me a little like the Morton House that Beth and I had worked on our honeymoon. I wasn't keen on having a repeat.

As if on cue, a woman screamed and we started running. Seeing the ghost girl from earlier running toward us, I reached out and grabbed her arm, startling her into speech.

"Don't go in there!" She said breathlessly, waving her hand toward the library.

"Get out there," I said, pushing her behind us toward the lobby. "Go, go!"

Beth was already opening the door and stepping into the room. As I crossed the threshold there was a definite change in temperature, and I could see my breath fog. Crouched in the corner of the room, was Gore's son, still holding his head. He looked up when we walked in.

"Why'd you do that? Why did you send my mommy away?" He asked.

"Ah, maybe because of the high and tight she gave you, huh? How bout some thanks," I said.

"Ahem," Sam said, clearing his throat pointedly.

"Well, I'm just saying a little gratitude might be nice once in awhile," I muttered.

"My mommy didn't do this to me," the boy said, which really caught all our attention.

"What?" Beth asked, taking a few steps toward him and crouching down. "Then who did?"

The boy disappeared and Beth stood up, shooting me a look that silently stated she was not happy about the turn of events.

Things were not going to plan. Not like they ever did. The latest realisation had us reeling for answers. I led the way out of the door when we started hearing more screams upstairs. Taking the steps two at a time, I could feel Beth right behind me as we turned a landing and found the German Hook Man from Q&A time lying on the floor. I leaned down, searching for a pulse and finding nothing.

"Dead," I said.

"And scalped," Beth pointed out. "Just like Gore's son."

"Not good," Sam muttered and he started to run down the stairs toward the large auditorium. Sam was a good ten yards ahead of us as Beth and I found our way into the room, Chuck was up on stage.

"Well guys I guess we're out of time. So thank you for your incredibly probing and rigorous questions, and have a good…" He stopped as Sam ran up on the stage and whispered urgently in Chuck's ear about what was going on.

"Hey...What? Holy crap." Chuck exclaimed. The audience murmured in concern as Sam covered the mic and continued talking to Chuck. After a moment of back and forth, Chuck looked out at the crowd and smiled nervously while Sam stalked off stage.

"Okay. So ahh, good news. I got much more to tell you... I guess."

Ten minutes later I was ushering in the hotel staff to the auditorium while Beth searched the kitchen for salt.

"Buddy, I got work to do," the manager complained as I pushed him inside.

"You're gonna want to see this," I assured him. "It's gonna be a hell of a show." I closed the door after the last staff member, and Beth started to lay salt at it.

"Ah, what does the future hold for Sam and Dean? Well, how do you feel about angels? Yeah, because let me tell you, they're not nearly as lame as you think," Chuck started on stage.

"Okay," I said, looking from Sam to Beth. "New theory. The legends about Leticia are ass-backwards obviously."

"Yeah, I think that's a pretty good theory," Beth agreed, glancing around the room.

"Yeah. So all right, let's say those three orphans were playing cowboys and Indians," Sam began.

"LARPing as cowboys and indians," I cut in with a grin, pretty pleased with my comment.

"Whatever," Sam snapped. "And let's say they scalped Leticia's son and killed him."

"Mom catches 'em in the act, flips out, slices them and dices herself," I finished.

"Well, it's that is true, it means we have got our work cut out for us," Beth said. I wished I had my shotgun with rock salt on me.

"If it's true it means we've got three bloodthirsty brats in the building," Sam agreed.

"Yeah and Leticia was the only one keeping them under control," I added.

"Smooth move on our part," Sam said with a shake of his head.

"Wouldn't be the first time," Beth pointed out. "You remember Alabama?" She asked me with a grin. I thought back to one of our earlier hunting jobs, and chuckled.

"Ohhh, yeah… that was bad," I said. Then the reality of our situation crashed in. We had people, a lot of people, to protect. "We gotta get back to the cemetery, torch the kids' bones."

"How?" Sam asked. "We're trapped, we don't even have our guns! The ghosts are running this joint and they're only scared of one thing."

I was staring at the ghost girl who'd half hit on me earlier, and thinking…

"Exactly," I said, starting to walk. I had an idea.

Beth's POV

The girl wasn't really having a bar of what Dean was trying to sell her, and I had to admit, I couldn't really blame her.

"You want me to do what?" She asked Dean skeptically.

"You're an actress. We just want you to act," he said with a charming smile.

"I work at Hooters, in Toledo. No, you can forget it," she said, shaking her head.

"You'll be safe, we promise. This is really important," Sam cut in.

"I said no! Get someone else," the girl insisted. I sighed. Somehow I knew I was going to regret this.

"Fine. How about you give me your costume then?" I asked, stepping in. The girl looked at me as if I was crazy and then growled under her breath, starting to strip off the top garments she was wearing. First the long sleeved shirt, and then the a-line flared skirt,, until she was standing in leggings and tank top.

"You know what?" She asked, tossing them unceremoniously at me. "Be my guest. You people, all of you," she added, gesturing around the room, "are just….crazy!" She stormed off to where her manager was standing and started conversing angrily with him.

Dean was watching me warily. "You sure about this?" He asked as I shrugged out of my jacket, ditched the red shirt and quickly pulled on the shirt, buttoning it up to the neck.

"Better me than her," I pointed out, to which he nodded.

"Yeah…" His voice didn't sound as convinced.

I was zipping up the skirt at the back, and slipping my jeans off, when Barnes and Demian walked up to us, the latter dropping his hand down on Dean's shoulder.

"We wanna help," he announced.

"Guys, no," Dean said, shaking his head.

"Why not?" Demian asked.

"Cause this isn't make-believe," was the reply.

"Yeah, you saw what happened out there already," I said to them.

"Look, we know," Demian said. "We're not nuts. We're freakin' terrified." For terrified, they looked pretty in control of themselves. I had to hand it to these two guys, they were getting up to speed on hunting pretty fast.

"Yeah but if all these people are seriously in trouble, we gotta do something," Barnes agreed.

"Why?" Dean asked.

"Because. That's what Sam and Dean would do," Demian said.

"No, there's really no such thing as a Croatoan virus for down there. You really should see a doctor," Chuck's voice echoed across to us and I shuddered.

"Let's just do this," I said to Dean, emptying my things from my jeans into the pockets of the skirt I was now wearing. "I feel like a freaking school marm." Dean looked me up and down and grinned, nodding in full agreement.

It didn't take us long to abandon the auditorium and get to the library. Sam, we'd sent with Demian and Barnes on the cemetery mission. Now Dean and I just had to distract the ghosts enough to get them out the doors.

Dean pulled me up outside the doors and looked me over, reaching out his hands to run his fingers through my hair and mess it up a little. "You think this'll work?" He asked, suddenly doubtful.

"Yeah, yeah of course," I nodded.

"Okay," Dean said, leaning around the corner to into the room. "I'm gonna be right here sugarpie, I've got your back."

"I know," I smiled, leaning over to kiss his cheek. He turned his face and pressed his lips to mine, eyes worriedly looking into mine. For a couple of heartbeats we were caught in time, another place altogether. He reached up, burying his left hand into the hair at the base of my neck and kissed me again, this time taking his time before drawing away breathlessly.

"Be careful," he murmured.

"Yeah," I breathed, forcing out a smile. "You too."

My heart was beating out of my chest, much harder than it should for a simple ghost hunt. It was the lack of tools we had that had me worried. Dean had found an iron poker from the fireplace downstairs, but that was it - no guns, no rock salt - we would have to get up close and personal with these psycho kids.

I stepped further into the room, rounding the divider wall near the door where Dean was hiding. Nothing so far. The room was a typical old-fashioned library. Bookshelves floor to ceiling on almost every wall except the one I was facing. It had a huge fireplace and leadlight windows over the top that revealed nothing but darkness.

"Boys?" I called out. "Boys? Come here this instant!" I paused, waiting to see if they were listening, and questioned what Gore would do in my place. I frowned at the lack of response, and then hardened my voice. "Boys! You come when I call you. You understand me?"

Out of nowhere the three boys appeared in front of the enclosed bookshelves.

"Miss Gore?" One of them asked.

I swallowed hard, nodding at them and praying silently that they wouldn't see through the act. "You boys have been very naughty," I said, putting on my best stern mom voice. "Now you open the doors. Open the doors right now!"

The boys flickered in front of me, moving back a step, they looked worried.

"Very naughty," I reiterated. "You hear me? Naughty, naughty, naughty!" I repeated what Gore had said to Sam at the cemetery, and this seemed to have an effect on the boys for a moment.

Pour some sugar on me!

I froze.

Oooh, in the name of love… pour some sugar on me.

My pocket was vibrating… with a ringtone I wasn't familiar with. The boys frowned, looking at each other. Shit shit shit! I reached into my pocket and switched off the phone, glancing back at Dean who was looking around the corner at me apologetically.

"Def Leppard?" I mouthed at him. "Really?"

He inclined his head toward the boys, who had gathered together, and then stepped out from behind the wall brandishing his fire poker.

"I like Def Leppard," he grinned, the humour falling from his eyes as he looked at the ghosts and stepped between them and I. They'd raised knives in their little hands, and a bloodthirsty look was now paired with psychopathic smiles. Shit.

They hit Dean head on, and I watched him fly across the room and slam against a wall, the iron bar sliding out of his hand across the floor. The boys all swooped in on him, their knives extended while I raced around the armchair, and picked up the discarded poker, swinging it through the trio. Dean dropped his hands down from protecting his face and sighed with relief.

"Thanks," he said, and I extended my hand, helping him up.

It was my turn now. Before I knew what was happening, the familiar feeling of being in limbo as I was propelled through the air, hit me.

"Beth!" Dean yelled, racing after me and picking up the bar that I had this time dropped.

Sam had to be on his way to the cemetery with the boys now, we just had to stall for more time and protect everyone down in the auditorium. My ribs burned and I coughed as I struggled to my feet. Dean was on his back on the ground, a boy on top of him. I felt a sharp yank on my hair, and the tall blonde boy had grabbed my hair, angling his butcher knife toward my hairline.

"No!" I called out. "Dean!"

But it was no good, the spirits were strong, and they had us both pinned down. Second by second, those knives were getting closer to their mark. I glanced furiously around, spotting a set of fireplace tools on the hearth, but they were too far away.

Dean grunted, struggling against his kid, and then there was a flash of flames, and right in front of me I watched the ghosts burn up.

They'd done it.

I slumped back against the wall, breathing hard. "They did it... " I said, catching my breath. Dean groaned, and rolled on to his side, standing up. He walked toward me, picking up the iron bar, and looked thoughtfully at it.

"You know maybe that guy was right. Maybe we should put these things on a bungee," he said with a grin.

Dean's POV

I'd left it to Chuck to try and explain to the police how it was that we had a dead body on site. I wasn't sure what he was going to go with, I hoped it wasn't "psycho kid ghosts" though. Walking down the steps I found Demian and Barnes standing around, looking lost.

"You know I gotta hand it to you guys. You really saved our asses back there. So ah, you know, thanks," I said, smiling at them both. They stood looking at me and then nodded.

"Yeah, no problem man, we're happy to help. You know, we don't even know your name," Barnes said. I stopped and contemplated.

"Dean," I said finally. "The real Dean."

They believed me for a moment, and that seemed to hit them, then the reality of what that would mean, maybe it was too much for them. They laughed, shaking their heads.

"Ahhh, yeah right. Me too!" Demian said.

"Get the hell out of here Dean!" Barnes added.

I felt disappointed. If only they knew the truth. But they'd had a taste of it, and they'd saved me and Beth, so that counted for something.

"Well, anyway. Thanks. Really." I said, turning around to go look for Beth.

"You're wrong you know," Demian said. It caused me to turn back.

"Sorry?"

"About Supernatural. No offense but I'm not sure you get what the stories about."

"Is that so?" I smirked.

Demian hesitated for a moment, and then nodded, taking a step toward me. "All right. In real life, he sells stereo equipment," he gestured to Barnes as he spoke. "I fix copiers. Our lives suck. But to be Sam and Dean, to wake up every morning and save the world? To have a family that would die for you? Well who wouldn't want that?"

The way they said it, I couldn't argue. I did have it lucky in that regard. I had Beth, who was always beside me no matter what, who'd prayed and come into Hell to find me and pull me out. I had Sam, who, regardless of how annoying he could be sometimes, was still my brother. We had family and friends who helped when we needed it. In that way, we did have it good.

"Maybe you got a point," I conceded. "You know, you two don't make a bad team yourselves. How do you know each other anyway?"

Barnes and Demian smiled at each other. "Oh. Well, we met online. Supernatural chat room." Barnes said.

"Oh," I said. "Well it must be nice to get out of your parent's basement. Make some friends."

"We're more than friends," Demian said, piquing my curiosity. The two of them reached out and joined hands. "We're partners." Barnes dropped his head down onto Demian's shoulder and they grinned at me.

"Oh," I said, the penny dropping. "I guess that's why you didn't hit on Beth, like every other Dean in this place?" I asked. Demian chuckled and nodded.

"Huh, ahem," I cleared my throat. "Well, howdy partners."

"Howdy," Barnes replied as I started to walk away. I definitely had to find Beth and tell her this!

Beth's POV

Sam was standing with Becky and Chuck to the side of the Impala, and I was half listening to the ridiculous conversation going on between them, and the phone to my ear.

"Look Sam. I'm not gunna lie. We had undeniable chemistry. But like a monkey on the sun it was too hot to live. It can't go on. Chuck and I, we found each other. My yin to his proud yang. And well, the heart wants what the heart wants. I'm so so sorry."

"Yeah Sam," Chuck said, his expression saying anything but an apology. "Sorry."

I chuckled at the sudden change of heart from Becky. Chuck must have really made an impression on her while Dean and I had been up in the library fighting ghosts. She'd prattled on about how he'd fought a ghost off when the manager tried to leave the salt protected auditorium, and he'd been so brave.

"Will you be all right?" Becky asked, looking up at Sam.

"Honestly I don't know. I'll just have to find a way to keep living, I guess," Sam said.

"Princess? Are you listening to me?" Jefferson's voice broke my concentration and I focused back on my phone.

"Yeah, sorry, I'm here. You know you nearly got me killed last night calling so late?" I pointed out.

"Yes, so you said. Well, that's what happens when you leave your phone on. Put it on silent when you're hunting, like the rest of us."

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, okay…. So what do you have for me?"

"Well, my dear, there isn't exactly any evidence out there to prove that Gabriel ever got one of his prophecies wrong." He said, getting to the point.

"Ok. Oh, hey. Chuck. If you really wanna publish more books, I guess that's ok with us." Sam was saying on the other side of the car. I tried to concentrate on what Jefferson was saying, but Chuck's expression caught me off guard..

"Wow," Chuck said excitedly. "Really?"

"No not really. We have guns and we will find you," Sam started to walk off, back toward the hotel for some reason, and then Becky was following.

"So, angel prophecies, pretty much written in stone?" I asked into the phone.

"Pretty much."

Great," I muttered.

"What's this about?"

"Nothing," I said. "I uh, I gotta go. I'll call you in a couple of days." I didn't wait for confirmation, just hung up the phone and sighed, looking down at my hands.

"Penny for your thoughts," Dean's voice startled me and I looked up, noting that he'd probably been standing there longer than I was aware.

"Huh?"

"You were a million miles away just then, who were you talking to?" Dean asked.

"Uh, Jefferson. Just checking something with him."

"Anything I need to know?" He questioned, looking at me with concern.

"No," I said, instantly regretting it. "Actually, maybe." I felt the emotions of holding on to this too much. They battered at my walls, pushing to get out like water at a levy. "I just… I don't know where to start…"

"Hey, hey," Dean said, moving quickly to pull me against him. "Start at the beginning."

"Everything is going to hell," I sighed, burying my face into his shoulder.

"Tell me about it," he agreed. "You know I just saw Becky chasing Sam across the car park?"

I chuckled, pulling back to look at him. His eyes were full of affection, and he reached a hand up to brush his thumb across my cheek.

"You know you can tell me anything right?"

"I know," I nodded. "And we do…. We do need to talk."

"Okay then, let's go, Sioux Falls… there's a bar with our name on it."

"Guys, guys!" Sam called out, interrupting the moment as he rounded the Impala, smiling excitedly. "You're not going to believe it, but I got a lead on the Colt."

"What?" Dean asked, pulling away to look at Sam.

"How?" I added.

"Long story," Sam said, glancing over at Becky who was now walking up the steps to the hotel with Chuck, hand in hand. "I'll tell you on the way?"

"What are we waiting for?" Dean asked. And just like that we were back on the hunt.

AUTHOR'S NOTES

Song for this chapter is: Ash Tree Lane by Ms Mr

Sorry it's taken so long to update! Hopefully it won't be as long next time. I'm also working on some updates for Star Trek and Dredd.

I've finished with the study that was taking up the majority of my time, and settled into a new job, so now I have time to write!

Thank you to EVERYONE who has taken the time to write a review or PM and to encourage me to keep going with the story. I haven't abandoned it by a long shot. Just as an aside, if you PM or log in to leave reviews, I can get back to you with an idea on when an update is coming - leaving Guest reviews only means I can't reply to questions you're asking me!

In fact, there's a fun compliment coming to the story, which will come out with the next update, which is going to be a revised Hell House flashback adding in some more Dean / Beth pre-relationship angst (because I'm always trying to get that out there) and introducing a new character that will parallel this story through the new story of a talented co-writer. Her story will follow Sam, giving us a deeper look into his perspective on his journey with Dean and Beth. So look out for that soon!