DPOV

The moment the man in front of me pulled his fingers away from where they'd been pressed to my forehead, it was like everything around me changed. Like the lighting dimmed a little as everything settled back into place.

"What the hell?" I frowned, looking around, confused... as I looked down at myself, the confusion only grew. "Why am I wearing a tie?" As if on cue, my stomach growled, pulling my attention to the fact that it felt like I hadn't eaten in weeks. "My God, am I hungry."

The man in front of me- who dressed in a suit which I was pretty sure would be more expensive than the one I was wearing- chuckled lightly. "Welcome back."

Standing up I looked him up and down, getting ready to be on the defensive. "Wait. Did I- did I just get touched by... you're an angel, aren't you?"

"I'm Zachariah."

I groaned, "Oh, great. That's all I need is another one of you guys."

He smirked at my response, moving around to stand on my side of the desk in the office we stood in. "I'm hardly another one, Dean. I'm Castiel's superior. Believe me, I had no interest in popping down here into one of these smelly things." He gestured to the body he was wearing. "But after the unfortunate situation with Uriel, I felt it necessary to pay a visit. Get my ducks in a row."

"I am not one of your ducks."

"Starting with your attitude," he added without missing a beat.

"Oh, so, what? This was all some sort of a lesson?" I gestured to the room, but was talking about everything I was remembering... though I wasn't sure if it had all been real or not. "Is that what you're telling me? Wow. Very creative."

"You should see my decoupage."

"Gross. No thank you." I frowned, genuinely grossed out, before going on. "So, what? I'm just hallucinating all this? Is that it?"

"Not at all." He shook his head, moving back to the other side of the desk. "Real place, real haunting. Just plunked you in the middle without the benefit of your memories."

The last thing I remembered was being in the hospital. I mean, I remember the rest, but it's like it wasn't me. Three weeks ago, I woke up in an apartment I knew, with a life I fully believed was my own. I had a new job, a family, things felt pretty great. I was a happy guy.

But then people started dying at work. Most of them were suicides. Things started to get a little weird- especially after I met Sam a couple of days ago. We'd been working here for the same amount of time, but while I was some fancy office guy, he was a cubicle worker bee. We knew nothing of each other, but still managed to become friends pretty quickly.

We figured out what was happening to all the people who were dying. We figure out who the ghost was and why they were here. We learnt how to kill it- which we did. We saved the day just like we did in our normal lives, despite the fact that we were one hundred percent clueless as to who we really were.

I shook my head at Zachariah. "Just to shake things up? Hm? So you guys can have fun watching us run around like ass clowns in monkey suits?" I snapped.

"To prove to you that the path you're on is truly in your blood. You're a hunter. Not because your dad made you, not because God called you back from hell, but because it is what you are. And you love it. You'll find your way to it in the dark every single time and you're miserable without it. Dean, let's be real here. You're good at this. You'll be successful. You will stop it."

"Stop what? The apocalypse, huh?" I asked, getting worked up. I just wanted an answer already. "Lucifer? What? Be specific, man."

"You'll do everything you're destined to do. All of it," he answered, without telling me what I actually wanted to know. Without telling me anything. "But I know, I know. You're not strong enough. You're scared. You got daddy issues. You can't do it. Right?"

"Angel or not, I will stab you in your face," I told him simply.

Ignoring me, he continued to speak. "All I'm saying is it's how you look at it. Most folks live and die without moving anything more than the dirt it takes to bury them. You get to change things." As I turned away he went on. "Save people, maybe even the world. All the while you drive a classic car and fornicate with women. This isn't a curse. It's a gift. So for God's sakes, Dean, quit whining about it." I turned back to him. "Look around. There are plenty of fates worse than yours. So are you with me? You wanna go steam yourself another latte? Or are you ready to stand up and be who you really are?"

SPOV

I was still reeling from everything that had just happened. I'd quit working at Sandover, walked out the front doors, and was hit with the memories of my real life. Just like that, I knew who I was. Only problem was, I had no idea how I'd gotten where I was.

The first thing I did was turn back around and ran inside, heading for Dean's office, hoping he'd be there and that he remembered too. But as the doors of the elevator opened, I came face to face with him and knew he remembered everything as well.

We both left then, getting in the car he'd been using during the three weeks that we hadn't been ourselves. As he drove, he explained to me what had actually happened to us. How the angels had erased our memories to prove a point. Then they'd told Dean where we could find the Impala and all our stuff- which is where we were headed.

We found the car parked in the middle of a forest, a tarp thrown over her. Sure enough, everything of ours was inside. Nothing appeared to have been touched. Though our phones had been dead. Needing to make sure everyone was okay and that we hadn't missed anything, we headed for the nearest diner where we could grab some food and charge our phones.

"So, this Zachariah guy just dumped us in the middle of a murder ghost hot spot, hoping that we'd figure out how to save the day?" I asked.

Dean shrugged, spooning a mouthful of pie onto his fork. "I mean, you even said it. It's in our blood," he noted.

He had a point. Even with all our memories missing, I still felt like we were destined for more. After we ganked the ghost, it was like I just knew that's what we were made for...

I reached for my phone and turned it on. The moment the light flashed on, I was bombarded with dozens of missed calls and messages from Bobby. Frowning, I checked some of the voice mails, hearing the worry in his voice. With each one he seemed to get more and more panicked. Then I heard the last one...

"I don't know where you boys are, but I need you to get here now. Lizzie... there's something wrong with her. I don't know what to-" The line cut off.

Grabbing my charger, bag and wallet, I threw some money on the table as Dean watched me with a confused frown. He hadn't checked his phone yet and had no idea about the missed calls and messages I was sure he'd have as well.

"Where are you goin'? We just got here," he noted with a mouth full of food.

"We gotta go. It's Lizzie."

That's all I had to say. Hearing the urgency in my voice, and seeing the concerned look on my face. Dean knew this wasn't some joke. He could see how serious this was. If Lizzie was in danger, we had to go and help. She was family.

Leaving his pie, he grabbed a napkin and stood, wiping his face quickly before throwing the napkin back on the table as we both left the diner in a rush.

DPOV

I was a fast driver. Sometimes Sam would scold me for it. I knew there were times where I would be a little too reckless just for the sake of having some fun, and it annoyed him. But at that moment, as I pressed my foot down as hard as I could, he didn't say a word.

We both knew we needed to get to Bobby's as soon as possible. It was a bit of a drive, but I wasn't going to let that slow us down. If Liz needed us, then we'd be there.

It was at that point, as I sped down the many roads, making our way to Bobby's, that I really wanted to rip the angels a new one. If they hadn't taken our memories away for their own purposes then Sam and I might have been able to be there for Liz and Bobby sooner.

It's their fault. Son of a bitch.

I was getting more and more worked up, the more I thought about it. My grip on the wheel tightened as I pressed my foot down even more.

We couldn't get there soon enough.

...

I slammed on the brakes as soon as we were at Bobby's. Dust and dirt picked up around Baby like a cloud, but Sam and I just ignored it as we hurried out of the car and towards the front door. Our feet pounded on the wooden boards of the porch, each of us lifting a hand to knock on the door with panicked force.

A moment or two later, the door opened. Bobby stood there, genuinely surprised to see both of us. But at the same time, he was equally relieved and annoyed.

"Where the hell have you two been?" he asked as he stepped back so Sam and I could enter the house.

"Long story-"

I cut Sam off, wanting to skip the pleasantries and get to the point, "Where's Liz?"

Bobby looked to each of us, an unreadable expression on his face as he gave a short nod and started for the stairs to head to the second story. Sam and I were right behind, saying nothing as we followed.

As we walked down the hall, Bobby stopped at a door.

When I was younger, Bobby use to take care of Sammy and I. A lot of the times we'd stay here. At first the room had been empty. Just some boxes in a corner. But one day, when I went to go look inside, it was suddenly locked. Since then, the door had never been opened.

When I was younger I thought it was because there might be something dangerous in there. As I got older I lost interest. If Bobby didn't want us to see something then he must have a good reason. But now, as he raised his hand to the open the door, I was surprised to see it open without a creak. The movement so smooth and silent...

Stepping inside, I found myself looking around at the unfamiliar room. Forest green walls, wooden dresser and chest of drawers. Books lined the shelves on the walls. A mirror sat above a dresser, with some photos framing it. White lace curtains sat on either side of the window. A wooden double bed with dark grey sheets sat under the window, and tucked under those sheets and blankets was Liz, fast asleep.

Just like that, it clicked. Nothing dangerous had been hiding in the room. Nothing sinister or creepy or weird. It had been locked for her privacy. Even when she hadn't lived here, when she'd gone off to hunt on her own, Bobby had kept the room locked.

"Sam called to tell me you were in the hospital," Bobby started as the three of us watched Liz, "I was about to go see you when that angel friend of yours showed up in the middle of my living room, with Lizzie. Her clothes were covered in blood, but she didn't look hurt. I didn't have time to ask any questions. The angel was gone as quickly as he showed up. I was still going to see you, but wanted to make sure she was okay first." He shook his head. "Last I heard she was with her boyfriend."

My jaw tensed at the reminder of her boyfriend. The reminder of the fact that he'd been lying, that he wasn't a hunter. I hadn't told anyone, yet, but the moment I was sure Liz was okay, I'd find out who that asshole really is.

As I stood there, I wondered where he might be. Why had Castiel been with her? Where was Tristan? Had something happened? Had they been hunting and something went wrong? Had he done something to her? Were they still together? Was he even still alive? So many questions...

"Once I was sure she was okay, I ended up leaving. Lizzie wanted to stay and get cleaned up. I told her I wouldn't be too long. When I got to the hospital both of you were gone. I waited and looked around for a day or so, tried callin' both of you, but you were missing. So, I headed back home. When I got back things still seemed to be fine, but I wanted to make sure. Decided to keep an eye on her.

"Spent a week with her here. Things went back to fine. Eventually I got word of a case, had to leave for a couple of days. We talked on the phone while I was away, but I could tell things were getting worse again. I don't know what happened, but when I got home I found her on the bathroom floor, passed out. Managed to get her to bed, but she didn't wake up for hours."

"You know what's wrong?" I asked, my concern growing with each word he said.

"Got no idea." Bobby shook his head. "She has good days and bad days. Most of the time she's fine. But..."

When he didn't say anything, I pressed for him to go on, "But what, Bobby?"

"I'm really worried about her. I just... I don't know what to do, boys."

EPOV

As I opened my eyes, I flinched at the light streaming into my room. It was like looking directly at the sun, though I knew that was just my body reacting to the withdrawals. I knew everything that was happening was because of that. It had been three weeks since I had demon blood, which hadn't been much, not to keep the withdrawal symptoms at bay long enough.

"Here."

I hadn't even realised someone else was in the room.

Dean stood from the chair that had apparently been set by my bed while I was asleep. Reaching over, he pulled the curtains closed, giving me instant relief. As he sat back down, he watched me carefully.

We were silent for a moment, just looking at each other. I knew he wanted to ask me a million questions, and I wanted to answer all of them. But he wasn't sure where to start and I wasn't sure if I should tell him anything...

"Hey."

A small smile played on my lips. "Hi."

"How are you feeling? You need anything?"

"I'm fine. But I do need something..." Wincing and hissing in pain, I managed to sit myself up, ignoring every ache in my body and throb in my head. "I need to get out of here."

"Liz, I don't think-"

"It's not a good idea. I agree. But Dean, nothing is going to make me feel better. There's just bad, and worse. Staying here, having you, Bobby and Sam worrying about me, is just going to make things worse. Getting out there, finding a distraction, it's the best thing for me right now."

I wasn't sure if that was true, and if I'm being honest, the idea of moving from my bed was a horrible idea. But I did know that staying here was not going to help me find Tristan and kill the asshole.

Yes, you heard right. I wanted to go out there, hunt, and do whatever it takes to find the asshole who did this to me, and kill him. Slowly.

"We don't even have a case-"

As I reached over to the drawer in my bedside table, Dean fell silent. He watched while I pulled out some articles, passing them to him. "Possible haunting. Looks like an easy gank."

Without a word, he took the papers and looked over them. Sighing, he turned his gaze back to me. "What if I say no?"

I gave him a small and knowing smile. "You won't."

DPOV

It took some convincing to get Bobby to let Liz leave with Sam and me. While I'd been in her room, Sam had filed Bobby in on what had happened to us. I guess finding out that the angels could go the same thing at any moment... I mean I understood why he didn't want Liz to go with us. Also, her hunting in this condition was not a good idea, even I knew that.

Yet here we were, dressed in out FBI suits, headed for a comic book store to find out if they'd seen or heard anything related to ghosts.

"Look, I know you said you're feeling fine-"

"Which I am," Liz insisted as I went on.

"But just take it easy. Okay?"

"I'm fine, Dean. I swear," she sighed, clearly annoyed.

Hurrying ahead, she walked into the comic book store without Sam and me. My brother and I shared a look, shaking our heads as we walked into to join her, moving to stand by the counter to talk to the guy at the cashier.

He looked up at us, his eyes glued to Liz. Every pair of eyes were. It was like they'd never seen a chick in here before... which they probably hadn't.

"Uh... can I help you?" the guy behind the counter asked.

"Sure hope so," I started as Sam, Liz and I pulled out our badges. "Agents DeYoung, Shaw and Gowen. Just need to ask you a few questions."

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

The guy looked confused. "Like what?"

"Well, some other tenants reported flickering lights," I noted.

"Uh, I don't think so. Why?"

"Have you heard any noises?" Liz questioned. "Skittering in the walls? Kind of like rats?"

The guy's confusion grew into scepticism. "And the FBI is investigating a rodent problem?"

Ignoring his snark, Sam went on. "What about cold spots? Feel any sudden drops in temperature?"

Slowly, as if realising something, the guy began to grin. "I knew it! You guys are LARPing, aren't you?"

It was my turn to frown, confused. "Excuse me?"

"You're fans."

"Fans of what?" Sam asked, equally confused.

"What is 'LARPing'?" I looked to Liz. "Do you know what 'LARPing' is?"

Before she could say anything, the guy behind the counter scoffed. "Like you don't know." But when we all continued to look at him with silent confusion, he explained what it was, "Live-Action Role-Play! And pretty hardcore, too."

I shook my head. "I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're talking about."

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

Sam glanced at Liz and I for a moment before suggesting, "Sam, Dean, and Lizzie?"

The guy nodded enthusiastically. "That's it!"

"You're saying this is a book?" This was weirding me out and not helping with the confusion...

"Books," the guy corrected. "It was a series. Didn't sell a lot of copies, though. Kind of had more of an underground cult following." Getting up, he moved around the counter and towards a table labelled 'Bargain Bin'. Sam, Liz and I followed, tense and unsure. "Let's see. Um... ah. Yeah." He grabbed a book and handed it over to me. "That's the first one, I think."

I looked at the cover of the book- which had an illustration of a topless guy holding a shot gun, and a guy carrying a bag of salt, standing by what looked like the Impala. "'Supernatural' by Carver Edlund." Turning it over, I read the blurb out loud. "'Along a lonely California highway, a mysterious woman in white lures men to their deaths'."

"Give me that." Sam snatched the book from my hands to take a look. After a quick scan, he looked up at the guy. "We're gonna need all the copies of 'Supernatural' you've got."

EPOV

I sat on the couch in the hotel room I was sharing with Sam and Dean. Sam was on the computer at the table, doing some research. Dean was on his bed while I was on the couch, the two of us reading the books we'd gotten from the comic bookstore. At first, I thought it was amusing, reading Sam and Dean's lives... But when I showed up in the books, things got less funny. I felt very violated.

"This is freakin' insane," Dean suddenly spoke up, clear annoyed. "How'd this guy know all this stuff?"

Sam shrugged. "You got me."

"Everything is in here," Dean noted, flicking through one of the books. "I mean everything. From the racist truck to… to me having sex. I'm full-frontal in here, dude."

"I am too," I added.

Dean sat up and turned to me. "You are?" He sounded both pissed and interested. As if he wanted to read to but he didn't like the idea of other's reading it.

"Yep," I sighed, tossing him the book I'd been reading, as I got up and moved to sit at the table with Sam. "Like you said, everything is in these books." Even things the guys didn't know about…

Dean- holding he book I'd tossed him- stood and moved over to join Sam and me. "How come we haven't heard of them before?"

"They're pretty obscure," Sam noted. "I mean, almost zero circulation. Uh… started in '05. The publisher put out a couple dozen before going bankrupt. And, uh, the last one, No Rest for The Wicked," he turned the laptop towards Dean and me, showing us a list of the books, "ends with you going to hell," he told Dean.

"I reiterate. Freaking insane," Dean mumbled as he started to scroll through the page. "Check it out. There's actually fans. There's not many of them, but still. Did you read this?"

"Yeah." Sam nodded. He didn't seem as excited as Dean suddenly was.

"Although for fans, they sure do complain a lot. Listen to this. Simpatico says 'the demon story line is trite, clichéd, and overall craptastic'," Dean read. "Yeah, well, screw you, Simpatico. We lived it."

"Yeah. Well, keep on reading." Sam gestured to the laptop. "It gets better."

"There are 'Sam girls' and 'Dean girls' and..." Dean's brows furrowed. "What's a 'slash fan'?"

"As in... Sam-slash-Dean," Sam answered, a look of discomfort and disgust on his face. "Together."

"Like, 'together', together?" Dean asked, equally grossed out.

"Wait, what?" Grabbing the laptop, I took a look, cringing at the words before me. "Okay, gross..."

"Yeah," Sam sighed.

"They do know we're brothers, right?" Dean asked, genuinely disturb.

"Doesn't seem to matter," Sam noted.

"Oh, come on. That... that's just sick." Dean shut the laptop in disgust.

"They even have 'Sambeth girls' and 'Dizzie girls'." when Dean and I looked at Sam confused, but also afraid of what that meant, he explained. "Sambeth is a mix of Sam and Elizabeth. Dizzie, Dean and Lizzie. And then there's... 'Dean, Lizzie and Sam girls'."

I looked to both brothers, eyes going wide. "You mean... together? All three of us?"

Dean shook his head. "We got to find this Carver Edlund."

Sam sighed again. "Yeah, that might not be so easy."

"Why not?" Dean and I asked at the same time.

"No tax records, no known address," Sam answered, shifting in his seat to lean forward a bit more. "Looks like 'Carver Edlund' is a pen name."

Dean shook his head. "Somebody's gotta know who he is."

Bamby