Derek was in the driver seat while JJ gave the directions. She had not been too happy about him coming with her to find the Winchesters, but he refused to let her go looking for to serial killers alone.
"Are you sure about this JJ?" Derek asked as they pulled up to the old comic bookshop.
It was a nice shop but Reid would have appreciated the geeky vibe more than Derek did. In the windows the name of the store 'Golden Comics' was stencilled in comic font along with other titles to draw attention.
Inside was clean and organized, numerous comic books liked the shelves from floor to ceiling with smaller racks on the main floor, and behind the counter where fan art and graphic designs.
"Excuse me." JJ said drawing the owner's attention by flashing her badge. "Have you seen these two men, they would have been asking unusual questions?"
The owner, a large man with a thin beard, barely looked at Sam and Dean's picture before recognition flashed across his face. "Yeah I remember these two. They were in her LARPing." He said with a light laugh in his tone.
"LARPing?" Derek asked raising an eyebrow in confusion.
"Live action roleplaying. They were committed to the act, right down to the fake FBI ID's." the man clarified.
"And who were they pretending to be?" JJ asked carefully.
"Characters from the supernatural books, Sam and Dean." The man stated hesitantly. "I'm sorry, are these guys in some kind of trouble?"
"Books?" Derek questioned raising an eyebrow above his dark sunglasses, ignoring the man's question.
"Yeah, it's about two guys who use fake IDs with rock aliases, hunt down ghosts, demons, vampires and other monsters. These two came in asking questions as if the building was haunted." The owner continued as he watched the strange look exchanged by the two agents.
"Do you have any copies of the books?" JJ asked.
"Sorry they bought us out."
"Thank-you for your time." Derek nodded before quickly following JJ out of the shop.
...
"Garcia I need you to figure out everything you can about a series of books." JJ said before Derek could even catch up with her.
"And here I thought you were going to give me a challenge. Name?" The exocentric technical analysis asked.
"Supernatural." JJ answered.
"Supernatural by Carver Edlund, published by Flying Wiccan Press: Publishers of Quality Science Fiction and Graphic Novels. The books are currently out of print and didn't sell many copies. Why do you want to know about them, and how does this have anything to do with the Winchesters?" Garcia asked.
"Listen, I need you to find out everything about those books, you'll understand once you get started. Right now do you have an address for the author?" JJ said as they pulled out of the parking lot.
"Carver Edlund has never filled a tax record, no last know address. Looks to be a pseudonym." Garcia said more to herself then to JJ.
"Come on mamma I know you can get us something." Derek said loudly from the drivers seat.
"For you sugar I can do anything." Garcia said followed by a furry of typing. "Julie Siege is the editor of producer of the books. I'm cross referencing those she paid starting at the first publication with the books, and when the books went out of print. Got it. Carver Edlund is really Chuck Shurley sending you his address."
...
As the two headed to Chuck Shurley's house JJ began to read over the plot of the supernatural books. Garcia had been able to tell them the themes of the books, and it corresponded near perfectly with the Winchesters lives and delusions. From their childhood trauma, to every known encounter they had since Sam left Stanford and some unknown ones as well.
The technical analysis was doing some fact checking, confirming the incidents in the books to unsolved murders in the real world.
Mr. Shurley's house was in a rough neighbourhood. Obviously Chuck did not make much from his supernatural books. The lawn was nonexistent, dried grass and brown leaves across a small pathway leading to an old house. The steeps creaked beneath their weight. Shutters and blinds all closed preventing them from seeing inside. Mail piled high in the small mailbox
Ring the doorbell the two agents waited patiently. It wasn't long before dragging footsteps on creaky wooden floor was heard as someone approached.
The door inched open revealing a man in his mid forties with unkempt brown hair, and a beard, which looked like he hadn't shaved in a month. Dressed in a pair of boxers, white undershirt, and a stripped housecoat he looked at the two agents with a mix of fear and tiredness.
"Mr. Shurley." JJ asked.
"Yes?" He said lazily leaning in the threshold.
"I'm agent Jareau this is agent Morgan, can we speak to you for a moment?" She asked showing him her badge.
"FBI?" Chuck blurted out head swinging back and forth between the two of them. "What do you want with me?"
"May we come in?" Derek asked his tone of voice hinting to the seriousness of the conversation about to take place.
Without a word Chuck moved away from the door, leaving it open for them to follow. JJ and Derek watched as he staggered into the living room, occasionally running a hand through his knotted hair and rubbing his eyes.
He stopped at his desk turning around to face the two FBI agents, wishing they would just disappear as if they were a hallucination-but they didn't.
Standing in the opening of the living room, eyes shifting the large amount of clutter, JJ waited for the man to regain some sense of composure. The Chuck's profile came to both of them simultaneously. He was an alcoholic, life in disorder, living on a limited income not married with no partner or close friends of family. A loner who some how made his living writing fictional stories about two real men on a psychotic break.
"Have you ever heard of Sam and Dean Winchester?" JJ finally asked when if became obvious Chuck was going to remain standing by his desk.
"Winchester? No can't say I have." He answered. The profiler in her suspected he was lying, but knew the nervous twitching and large eyebrows drawing upward to the middle of his forehead could be associated with nervousness of having two FBI agents in his home.
"Are you sure, because your books seem to be about their lives?" JJ pressed keeping her voice sweet even as she pulled one of his books from the semi-organized shelf against the sidewall.
"The Sam and Dean in my books are works of fiction." Chuck stated fiercely- apparently sobering up quickly. "Is the FBI suggesting they are on the hunt for fictional characters?"
"Not at all Mr. Shurley." JJ answered as she returned the book to his spot on the dusty shelf.
"Chuck, call me chuck." He corrected her kindly.
"Sam and Dean Winchester are two individuals we are looking for, and it is possible that they think your books are fact rather then fiction." JJ elaborated. It was the only scenario that made sense- the brothers read the books and saw similarities between their lives and their fictional identities. They must have used the books as a form of script during the beginning of their spree.
"That's ridiculous." Chuck dismissed nervously.
"Can you look at these pictures?" JJ asked again keeping her voice calm and sweet as she handed him the image of Sam and Dean.
"I'm sorry never seen them before." Chuck stated handing her the photos back without really looking at them.
"Your books are out of print, so they have gone off script continuing the story where you left off. They may have tried to contact you." Derek stated.
"I haven't had any strange fans contact me but if I do I'll be sure to call the police. If there's nothing else I have work to get back to." Chuck cut him off as he hinted for them to leave.
"Of course." Thank you for your time JJ nodded.
...
The two agents closed the door behind them and when their black SUV pulled out of the driveway Chuck made a dive for his phone. He frantically dialled the phone number he had scribbled down on a napkin.
"Sam! Dean!" He shouted before they could answer. "You're not going to believe who just showed up at my door."