I picked up my pencil. There were so many ideas bouncing around in my brain.

Where should I even start? I wondered. There were so many ideas running through my head; which one should I go with? I grinned as I thought about what Metatron had said in Supernatural; about making little micro universes on paper with our stories. Well, I thought, if that's the case, I want to meet some of my favorite people.

I set my pencil to paper and began. I'm not sure about the quality of my work. That story makes me cringe now as I look back, but I think that is mostly because I can remember writing it; I remember the desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, this would be one universe I could experience myself, instead of simply writing it. That is the story that changed my life.

I was halfway through the first page when a rustling sound like a flock of pigeons flying around the room filled my head. I looked up and around, confused. My room was empty and silent. Rolling my eyes at my own overactive imagination, I set my pencil back and continued to write. Two sentences in, the rustling began again. Pushing my breath out in a gust of a sigh, I tried to focus on what I was trying to write, where I wanted the story to go, but the rustling just crescendoed until I couldn't even see the movie playing in my head; the one I was transcribing. I groaned when the lights flickered. You have got to be kidding me! I thought. I'm trying to write here! I sighed heavily. No rest for the wicked, I suppose. I jerked my head up in shock when I heard a voice I knew very well.

"What the hell? Who are you and how did you get in here?" My mouth dropped open as Dean stalked toward me, stance tense and ready to attack me at the slightest provocation. My eyes widened and I held my hands up in surrender.

"I-I-I don't know!" I stuttered out, trying to shrink back in my chair. He relaxed a bit at the fearful look on my face.

"How did you get in here?"

"I-I... I don't know. I was just in my room writing when I heard an unbearable noise of flapping wings, like a flock of pigeons was circling my head. A big flock. When I looked up, I was alone in my suddenly silent again room, so I went back to writing, but then the sound started back up and continued to get louder and louder until I couldn't even think anymore, then the lights flickered and you yelled at me, which prompted me to look up, and I was sitting here." He eyed me warily, one eyebrow raised in a show of skepticism.

I sighed and looked down at my paper. My mind blanked and I gasped.

"What?" I heard Dean's gruff voice from where I knew he still stood, even as I watched my paper with wide eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I..." I found my mouth had gone dry. I swallowed and licked my lips. "M-my story... It's continued."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I-When I first heard your voice, I had a page and a half written. Now, I have at least two and a half pages, and I haven't touched my pencil. Come here and look."

He came over and I looked up to see the wary look on his face. He stared in astonishment as words appeared on the page, in my hand writing, even though I hadn't touched my pencil.

I stared at my paper, then grinned up at him. He looked at me warily as I picked up my pencil and started to write.

Dean snapped his fingers.

"Why the hell did I just do that?" He cried, enraged and confused.

I grinned up at him. "I just wrote it down."

His face contorted in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Look!" I said, motioning him over. "What do you say we have a little fun with Crowley?" I applied my pencil to the page and a devil's trap appeared on the floor at the other end of the table. I grinned at Dean, who raised an eyebrow at me.

"You're not going to leave that there, are you?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "Of course not, I'll just write later that it disappeared. Now, do you want to mess with King Dork of Hell or not?"

He smirked at me. "Careful. He's a bit more powerful than you."

I grinned and wagged my pencil at him. "Except I can write him however I want."

Dean smiled, a small, genuine grin. "Be careful of the power trip there, little lady. The fall can be hard."

I grinned. "I think I'll take a chance." I turned back to my paper and wrote. A cup of pencils appeared in front of me before becoming invisible.

"By the way, where's Sam?" I asked, humming contentedly as I tried to think of the best way to prank Crowley without him knowing it was me.

"What?" Dean turned, startled out of whatever trail of thought he'd been following. "Oh! Sammy... He, wh..." He seemed about to say something, then looked at my pencil and sighed in defeat.

"He... He left. Didn't seem to think I could be trusted after I tricked him into checking on his girl last week."

I sighed and shook my head. "You know, that was a pretty dick move on your part."

He groaned. "I know, but what was I supposed to do? He wanted to kill Benny, and nothing I could say was dissuading him!"

I nodded and locked eye contact with him. "I get that; really, I do. You were trying to protect Benny, but it seriously hurt your brother to go back and see her again."

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, nodding forlornly at me.

I smiled sadly at him. "How are you and Cas?" Dean shook his head angrily at the mention of his angel.

"I haven't seen him in three weeks. He took the angel tablet and vamoosed. He decided he couldn't trust me."

"What?" I yelled, outraged. "He thinks he can't trust you? After everything you did for him?"

Dean sighed. "Look um...?" He looked at me questioningly.

"Kara." I supplied.

He smirked a little before turning serious again. "Look, Kara... Cas is going through a lot right now, what with Naomi forcing him to follow her orders and everything. He just needs some alone time."

I shook my head and locked eyes with him. "No, he needs you, Dean. I'm going to talk to him."

Ignoring Dean's protests, I picked up my pencil and wrote on the paper.

Cas appeared.