Chapter Twenty-Five

This Is The First Day of My Life

Ella

About fifteen years ago

I sat on the counter, my bare legs hanging down as I stuck my spoon directly into the pint of chocolate brownie ice cream. I had shrugged out of my button up, and was wearing my tank top and plaid uniform skirt. My hair was up in a bun. It was so fucking hot. My Chemistry book was in my lap as I did my best to be studious. Even though I wanted to rip my hair out. My final was coming up and it was too damn much.

"You're not my father, Castiel! You may look like him, but you're not him."

"Claire," Castiel grunted. I could hear footsteps padding down the steps to my right. "Please slow down."

"No! I can't believe you brought me to a creepy underground bunker. You had no right!"

My eyes widened as a blonde girl about my age stormed into my kitchen. She wore a gray, ratty T-shirt under a black leather jacket with an excessive amount of silver zippers. Her hair was long with wild curls. She had obviously been crying by the black smudges under her blue eyes.

"This is bullshit!" She shouted, throwing her hands in the air. She turned and caught my eyes.

"Uh, hi." I said awkwardly.

"Do you have other girls trapped here?!" She asked, gesturing to me.

"I actually live here." I said, my spoon still in my mouth.

"I'll get your bags from the car." Cas said, awkward as ever.

"I'm El." I said, offering my hand out to her.

She eyed me, checking me out. "Claire." She put her hand in mine. "You a stray too?"

"Deans daughter."

She raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

"Mhm." I looked her over. Claire. I'd heard that name before. Her words echoed in my head. "You're Jimmys daughter."

Claire's expression softened a bit, but her mouth was still stuck in a scowl. "I was."

"I'm sorry about your dad."

"Me too, but he's been gone for a long time."

"I can't even imagine losing my dad." I admitted.

"The goof in the flannel?"

I smiled a bit. "That's him. He's got a charm." I shrugged. "You get used to it."

"I won't." She said, folding her arms across her chest. "I won't be here long enough to get used to anything."

"It's not a bad set up. Good Wi-Fi. Lots of lore. Great shower pressure." I shrugged. "Not exactly a place to bring dates, but most girls don't have three dads. That has nothing to do with the bunker."

Claire winced. "Three dads. Hell I'd give anything to have one."

"I know Cas isn't your dad, but he's a good guy. He tries."

"I don't want to talk about him."

"That's fair." I said, taking another bite.

I could see her eyeing my ice cream, and I noticed how sharp her collar bones were under the swoop neck on her T-shirt. "Want some?"

She looked taken aback, but she slowly nodded. "Yeah, okay."

I reached under my legs to open the drawer and pull out another spoon. She hopped up on the counter to sit next to me, and dug her spoon in. "I have a chocolate problem." I admitted. "Especially when I'm stressed. I think it fixes everything."

"What're you stressed about?" She asked, eyeing my plaid skirt.

"Finals." I smiled cheekily. "I know it sounds dumb..."

"Nah. It's a nice change from the roller coaster I'm on."

"Are you in school?"

"Got my GED." She tilted her head to the side, sucking on her spoon. "School wasn't my thing."

I resisted the urge to reach up and wipe the makeup off from under her eye. "So no college?"

"I'm in the college of life." She said flatly.

"Hm."

"I'm surprised you're in school at all. If you grew up with hunters."

"Dad wanted a different life for me. He wanted me to have opportunities that he didn't have."

"Noble." Claire said taking another bite of the ice cream.

"Maybe." I said, closing my chemistry book. "But on the other hand, maybe it's not what I want."

Claire leaned closer to me. "And what do you want?"

"I'm still deciding." I looked down at my book, sitting it next to me. "But I haven't even had the opportunity to learn the hunt. He's worked so hard to keep it away from me. I love what they do. They save people, and I'm just in class reading a fucking book about theories."

Claire looked taken aback when I cursed and then she smiled a bit, mischievously. "You have some fight in you."

"I'm a Winchester." I smiled widely. "All we do is fight." I grabbed her hand. "I know you don't want to be here, but if you stay we will fight for you too."

Dean

Present

Things were way too fucking quiet on the apocalypse front. Sammy said he had some things to take care of. He wouldn't tell me what. Things seemed fine between him and Ave, but I wondered if he needed some time away from us, to get his head on straight. So I let him go. Even though it's against everything I believe in to watch my little brother walk away, I let him go.

I sipped my coffee in the kitchen and looked out the window at the sunrise. I never got up early, but I couldn't sleep. I never could anymore.

"Morning." Ava said, walking into the kitchen.

"Hey." I said, glancing at her.

"I have a present for you?"

I turned toward her and raised an eyebrow. "You do?"

She walked to me, the island in between us. She pulled her hand up and and sat down her newspaper. "I think I have a case."

Her eyes were glistening. Fuck she was beautiful. "Really? A case? Sam just left."

"I thought you and I could work it together."

I walked closer to the island, just the counter between us. I reached across and touched her cheek. "I'd like that." I admitted. "Tell me about the case."

—

"Uh... can I help you?" A young man behind the counter asked.

We were in a book store that carried a large selection of comics. We suspected a haunting, even if it seemed like a long shot.

"Sure hope so. Agents DeYoung and Shaw. Just need to ask you a few questions." I said, flashing my badge. Ava did the same next to me.

"Notice anything strange in the building, last couple of days?" Ava asked.

"Like what?"

"Well, some other tenants reported flickering lights." I said, glancing around.

The man scratched his head. "Uh, I don't think so. Why?"

"What about noises? Any skittering in the walls? Kind of like rats?" I asked.

The cashier squinted. "And the FBI is investigating a rodent problem?"

"What about cold spots? Feel any sudden drops in temperature?" Ava asked leaning into him.

A grin grew on the mans face. "I knew it! You guys are LARPing, aren't you?"

Larping? The fuck is that? "Excuse me?"

The cashier gestures to us. "You're fans."

"Fans of what?" Ava asked, crossing her arms.

I tugged on the tie around my neck, feeling claustrophobic all of a sudden. "What is 'LARPing'?"

The cashier rolled his eyes. "Like you don't know. Live-Action Role-Play! And pretty hardcore, too."

I frowned, my eyebrows coming together. "I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You're asking questions like the building's haunted. Like those guys from the books. What are they called? Uh... "Supernatural." Two guys, use fake IDs with rock aliases, hunt down ghosts, demons, vampires. What are their names? Uh... Steve and Dirk? Uh, Sal and Dane?"

I swallowed hard and Ava and I exchanged a look.

"Sam and Dean?" She offered.

"That's it!"

My head was spinning. He didn't make any sense. How could he know any of this? "You're saying this is a book?"

"Books. It was a series. Didn't sell a lot of copies, though. Kind of had more of an underground cult following." He moved from behind the counter and walked over to the bargain bin and began to dig around. Eventually he came across a book and handed it to me. "That's the first one, I think."

"Supernatural by Carver Edlund." I frowned at the classic romance novel cover. "Along a lonely California highway, a mysterious woman in white lures men to their deaths."

Ava raised her eyebrows. We had suddenly forgotten about the case. "We're gonna need all the copies of Supernatural you've got."

Ava

We went back to the motel. Dean was getting obsessed with the books. If I was being honest, my head was spinning too. I sat crisscrossed on the window seat typing away on my laptop. I was doing research on the books about their lives. About my life. Dean lounged on the bed, reading intently.

"This is freakin' insane. How's this guy know all this stuff?"

"I have no idea." I said, glancing at him.

"Everything is in here. I mean everything. From the vampires on the beach to us having sex. I'm full-frontal in here." Dean stood up, rubbing his face. "How come we haven't heard of them before?"

I sighed and gestures to my screen. "They're not exactly popular, Dean. Kind of obscure. The publisher got put out about a dozen before they went bankrupt. The last one ends with you going to Hell. I'm in here too. It all is in here." I was suddenly happy that there wasn't another. I couldn't take him reading about Sam and I raising his child without him.

He took the laptop from me. "I reiterate. Freaking insane." His eyes widened. "Check it out. There's actually fans. There's not many of them, but still. Did you read this?"

"Mhm."

"There are Sam girls and Dean girls and... what's a slash fan?"

"As in... Sam-slash-Dean. Together."

Dean looked up at me over the laptop. "Like, together together?"

"Yup."

He looked disgusted. "They do know we're brothers, right?"

"I don't think they care." I laughed. "They say a lot about me too, look." I said, taking back the computer. "Ava's character is flatly written. Dean deserves someone just as complexly written as he is." I rolled my eyes.

"We got to find this Carver Edlund."

"I don't know if we can, babe. No tax records, no known address. Looks like Carver Edlund is a pen name."

Dean groaned. This was really getting to him. "Somebody's gotta know who he is."

"Well, I have an idea, but it might be a little crazy."

He leaned into me, putting his hands on either side of my face. "You know me, Ava Winchester. I live for crazy."

After some research, I found the location of the publisher. She was obscure, but surprisingly active on social media. Not only did she publish the books, but she ran the official fan club. It wasn't hard to locate her house.

Dean and I stood in her kitchen. She poured us each a glass of iced tea. "So you published the Supernatural books?"

"Yep. Yeah. Gosh. These books... You know, they never really got the attention they deserved."

I forced a smile. "Right. Well, we're hoping that our article can... shine a light on an underappreciated series."

"Yeah, yeah, because, you know, if we got a little bit of good press then maybe we could start publishing again." She pushed her glasses up her nose. She was bouncing in her shoes.

Dean raised his eyebrows, throwing his hands up. "No, no, no, no. God, no. I mean, why would you want to do that? You know, it's, uh, such a complete series, what with Dean going to hell and all."

Nice recovery.

The publisher, but her hand on her chest in a swoon. "Oh, my god! That was one of my favorite ones, because Dean was so strong and sad and brave. Watching him give up everything for Ava. It was beautiful. I mean, the best parts are when they'd cry. Gosh... if only real men were so open and in touch with their feelings."

I snorted a bit, biting the inside on my cheek. I did my damndest to keep it together.

"Real men?" Dean asked flatly.

"I mean, no offense. How often do you cry like that, hmm?"

"Well, right now, I'm crying on the inside."

"Is that supposed to be funny?"

"Lady, this whole thing is funny."

I elbowed him gently.

The publisher took off her glasses. "How do I know you two are legit, hmm?"

"Oh, trust me. We, uh... we're legit."

"Well, I don't want any smart-ass article making fun of my boys."

"No! We would never." I jumped in. "We are big fans. Really."

"Hmm. You've read the books?"

"Cover to cover." Dean agreed.

The publisher crossed her arms in defiance. "What's the year and model of the car?"

"It's a 1967 Chevy Impala."

"What's May 2nd?"

"Sams birthday." I said, wincing, knowing it was coming up.

"What is the gender of Ava and Deans baby?"

"A little girl." I said, itching to reach for his hand.

"Dean's favorite song?"

"It's a tie. Between Zep's Ramble On and Traveling Riverside Blues."

The publisher grinned. "Okay. Okay. What do you want to know?"

"What's Carver Edlund's real name?" I asked, leaning forward

"Oh, no. I... No. Sorry, I can't do that."

"We just want to talk to him. You know, get the story in his own words." I said weakly.

"He's very private."

"It would mean so much to us. Like I said," I stepped to Dean, unbuttoning his shirt. He looked at me suspiciously, but allowed me to continue. I exposed his anti possession tattoo. "We are big fans."

The publisher looked weak seeing Deans skin. She fanned herself a bit. "Okay." She took out a pen and paper and started to write. "His name's Chuck Shurley. And he's a genius, so don't piss him off."

Dean

The front door swung open after a few brisk knocks. A man with an unkempt beard and shaggy hair squinted at us.

"You Chuck Shurley?" I asked.

"The Chuck Shurley who wrote the Supernatural books?"

The man eyed us. "Maybe. Why?"

"I'm Dean. This is Ava. The Dean and Ava you've been writing about."

The door shut in my face. I groaned and pounded on it again. It creaked open.

"Look, uh... I appreciate your enthusiasm. Really, I do. It's, uh, it's always nice to hear from the fans. But, uh, for your own good, I strongly suggest you get a life." Chuck tried to shut the door again, but I put my arm in the way, stopping it.

"See, here's the thing. We have a life. You've been using it to write your books."

I pushed my way past him into the house, Ava following behind me.

"Now, wait a minute. Now, this isn't funny."

"That's the understatement of the year." Ava laughed dryly. "We just want to know how you're doing it."

"I'm not doing anything."

I turned to him. "Are you a hunter?"

"What? No. I'm a writer."

I raised my eyebrows, crossing my arms. "Then how do you know so much about demons?" I stepped closer to Chuck, causing him to fall backwards on the couch.

"What do you want?" He stumbled over his words.

"I'm Ava, and this is Dean. Sam isn't here, but he's real too."

Chuck shook his head. "Ava, Sam, and Dean are fictional characters. I made them up! They're not real!"

"The fuck we aren't." I said, grabbing him by his ratty T-shirt. "Get up."

We walked him to the Impala, and I popped the trunk, showing him our full Arsenal.

"Are those real guns?"

"Yup. This is real rock salt, these are real fake IDs." I explained.

"Well, I got to hand it to you guys. You really are my number one fans. That's, that's awesome. So, I...I think I've got some posters in the house."

"Chuck, stop." I said putting my hand up.

"Please. Wait. Please, don't hurt me." Chuck said cowering in front of me.

Ava laughed a bit and walked toward him. "How much do you know? Do you know about the angels? Or Lilith breaking the seals?"

Chuck looked at her in shock. "Wait a minute. How do you know about that?"

"No. The question is how do you."

"Because I wrote it?"

"Wait." Ava began. "You kept writing?"

"Yeah, even after the publisher went bankrupt, but those books never came out. Okay, wait a minute. This is some kind of joke, right? Did Phil put you up to this?"

I sighed and punched the bridge of my nose. "Well, nice to meet you. I'm Dean Winchester, and this is my wife, Ava."

"The last names were never in the books. I never told anybody about that. I never even wrote that down."

"Now you're getting it." Ava said.

Chuck looked weak, so we each took a side of him and took him back inside.

He sat in the sitting room, and poured himself a whiskey. "Well, there's only one explanation. Obviously I'm a god."

Ava laughed and shook her head. "Yeah, you are not a god."

"How else do you explain it? I write things and then they come to life. Yeah, no, I'm definitely a god. A cruel, cruel, capricious god. The things I put you through. The physical beatings alone."

I shrugged. "Yeah, we're still in one piece."

"I killed Ava in front of you. I killed your mother... both of your mothers. All for what? For entertainment?"

"You didn't create us, Chuck." I said gently. "You're not god."

"We think you're probably just psychic." Ava added.

"No. If I were psychic, you think I'd be writing? Writing is hard."

Ava sat next to him. "It seems that somehow, you're just... focused on our lives. On Sam and Deans."

"Yeah, like laser-focused. Are you working on anything right now?" I asked.

Chuck gasped, suddenly rising. "Holy crap."

"What?" Ava asked, watching him rifle through papers on his desk.

"The, uh, latest book? It's, uh, it's kind of weird. I uh, I wrote myself into it. I wrote myself, at my house... confronted by my characters."

Ava and I exchanged a look again. What the fuck is going on?

Ava took the papers from him.

"So... You wrote another chapter?" I asked.

"Dean," Ava said, scanning the pages with her eyes.

"What?"

"If this is real... it's... fuck it's bad."

"What is?" I asked, my eyebrows coming together.

"It's Lilith." Chuck said, meeting my eyes. "She's coming for Sam."