The boys are driving, fast. They turn down a road which has a sign beside it. The sign says “Welcome to The Pineview Hotel”. They park and get out of the car quickly, and Dean suddenly stops. Beside the Impala, there are three other Impalas, exactly the same. He stares until Sam barks, “Dean! Come on!” Dean follows.

Chuck is pacing outside the Hotel, and he turns as the boys run up. “Chuck! There you are,” Sam says. “Guys?” Chuck says. “What’s going on?” Dean asks. “Uh, nothing. You know, just, um...” Chuck begins. “I’m just kinda... hangin... uh, what are you guys doing here?” “You told us to come,” Dean says. “Uh, no I didn’t,” Chuck replies. “Yeah you did, you texted me,” Sam says. “This address, life or death situation, any of this ringing a bell?” “No, I – I didn’t send you a text,” Chuck says. “We drove all night!” Dean snaps irritably. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand what could...” Chuck begins, then “Oh no.” “What?” Dean barks. “SAM?” a girl’s voice says. They look up to see Becky, standing on the stairs. “You made it!” “Oh uh, Becky, right?” Sam says as she runs up. “Oh,” she says, eyes widening. “You remembered. You’ve been thinking about me... it’s okay, I can’t get you out of my head either.” “Uh, did you take my phone?” Chuck interrupts. She looks at him. “I just borrowed it. From your pants.” Chuck sighs. “Becky...” “What?” she says. “They’re gonna wanna see it.” “See what?” the boys ask together. “Oh my God, I love it when they talk at the same time!” Becky shrieks, grinning. “Hey Chuck?” a voice interrupts. A man with a clipboard is standing on the porch. “Come on pal, it’s showtime.” “Guys, I’m sorry,” Chuck says. “For everything.” The boys stare at each other in confusion, then follow him up the steps.

Inside, a heavyset man dressed in a leather jacket walks up and laughs. “Hey Dean! Lookin’ good!” “Who the hell are you?” Dean asks. “I’m Dean, too,” he says, turning to reveal that he’s wearing Dean’s necklace. “Duh.” Dean turns to stare at Sam, then jumps as from around the corner comes somebody dressed as the scarecrow. “Uh oh,” he says. “It’s Sam and Dean. I’m in trouble now. Have fun you two.” He holds up a plastic hook and taps Sam with it, then walks away. Dean stares. “What...?” Sam’s too busy looking around. A girl with blood coming out of her eyes is nearby, talking to a man dressed as a clown. There’s drinking mugs on a table, with pictures of the Impala and “Route 666” on them. There’s a man with black eyes handing out Supernatural books, and there’s two men dressed as Bobby and Ash talking. “Becky?” Sam says. “What is this?” “It’s awesome!” she smiles. “A Supernatural convention. The first ever.” The boys stare so more. There’s a man with Azazel’s yellow eyes just a little ways away. Dean’s eyes widen.

The boys stand and watch behind a bunch of chairs as the man with the clipboard walks up onstage. “Welcome to the first ever Supernatural convention,” he says. “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. Oh, and of course the big hunt starts at 7pm sharp!” Everyone cheers and claps as the boys stare in horror. “Okay guys – but right now, right now – I’d like to introduce the man himself. The creator and the writer of the Supernatural books, the one – the only – Carver Edlund!” Chuck walks up onstage to loud cheers and clapping. He walks up to the microphone. “Uh, okay, good. This isn’t nearly as awkward as I – uh, dry mouth.” He turns and picks up a bottle of water and begins chugging it until it’s almost empty. “Okay,” he says. “So I guess uh... questions?” Everyone’s hand goes up. He picks one of them, and a dark-haired man wearing Sam’s jacket stands up. “Hey, Mr. Edlund! Uh, big fan, wow... okay, I was just wondering. Where’d you come up with Sam and Dean in the first place?” “Oh uh...” Chuck glances at Dean and Sam, and they both tilt their heads curiously. “It just... came to me,” Chuck finishes lamely. More hands go up. “Okay, the hook man,”Chuck says. “Okay, so why in every fight scene, Sam and Dean are having their gun or knife knocked away by the bad guy?” the hook man asks. “Why don’t they keep it on some kind of bungee?” “Uh, I really don’t know,” Chuck begins. “Yeah, follow up – why can’t Sam and Dean be telling that Ruby is evil? I mean she is clearly manipluating Sam in some kind of moral lapse. It’s obvious, right?” “Hey!” Becky says loudly. “If you don’t like the books, don’t read ‘em, fritz!” “Okay, okay, just uh...” Chuck interrupts. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Okay, next question.” He picks the next guy. “Yeah okay, so at the end of the last book, Dean goes to hell, so, what happens next?” “Oh. There lies an announcement, actually. Um, you’re all gonna find out. Um, thanks to a wealthy Scandinavian investor, we’re gonna start publishing again,” Chuck says, and everyone gets on their feet and cheers. Sam and Dean look at each other.

Outside, everyone is walking around and talking. Chuck goes over to the table where Becky is, carrying two drinks. “Uh, I got you a yellow-eyed cooler,” he says. She smiles. “Thanks, Chuck.” Chuck clears his throat. “So, Becky. I was wondering, are you doing anything...” “Oh hi Sam!” Becky cries, cutting him off. “Excuse us,” Dean says. “In case you haven’t noticed, our plates are kinda full, okay? Finding the Colt? Hunting the Devil? We don’t have time for this crap!” “Hey, I didn’t call you,” Chuck reminds them. “He means the books, Chuck,” Sam says. “Why are you publishing more books?” “Um, for food and shelter?” Chuck replies. “Who gave you the rights to our life’s story?” Dean snaps, leaning closer. “An archangel. And I didn’t want it!” Chuck snaps back. “Well the deal’s off, okay? No more books. Our lives are not for public consumption,” Sam says. “Um, Becky, would you excuse us for just a second?” Chuck says. She nods, and they leave.

Chuck leads them into a room at the side. “Do you guys know what I do for a living?” he asks immediately. “Yeah, Chuck, we know,” Sam says. “Then could you tell me? Cause I don’t. Alright? I’m not a good writer. I’ve got no marketable skills, I’m not just some hero that can just hit the road and fight monsters. Okay? Until the world ends, I’ve gotta live. Alright? And the Supernatural books are all I’ve got. What else do you want me to do?” The boys are silent, until a girl screams somewhere in the hotel. They run towards the sound, even as Chuck calls “No, guys! Wait!”

The boys run up a set of stairs, and stop when they come upon a woman wearing a maid’s uniform. “You okay?” Sam asks. “I think so,” she says. “What happened?”Dean asks. “I saw a ghost,” she begins. “A ghost?” a raspy voice behind the boys says. “Excuse me?” Sam says. “Ma’am, could you tell us what it looked like?” the raspy voice says again. The two men who they saw downstairs dressed as them are standing behind them. Behind those two men a bunch more run up, all dressed as Sam and Dean. “Why don’t you leave this to the grown ups, pal?” Dean says. “A woman,” the maid says. “She was in an old-fashioned dress. Really old, like a school marm, or something?” “Did she say something to you?” another man dressed as Sam asks. “Okay, gather close everybody!” she says, smiling. “For a terrifying tale – of terror!” Sam grits his teeth and walks away, Dean follows him. “I saw a ghost, of none other than Leticia Gore herself!” the maid goes on.

Becky runs up to the boys as they stand a little ways away. “Oooh, the LARPing started,”she says, grinning. “Uh, what is that again?” Dean asks. “Live Action Role Playing? It’s a game. The Convention puts it on,” she replies, holding out some papers to Sam. Sam reads it. “Dad’s Journal. Dear Sam and Dean, this hotel is haunted. You must haunt down the ghost. Interview witnesses, discover clues, and find the bones. First team to do so wins a fifty-dollar gift card to Sizzler. Love Dad.” Dean rolls his eyes.  “You guys are so gonna win,” Becky smiles.

Downstairs, a bunch of people wearing suits hold out fake IDs to the man running the Convention. “Why yes, Agents Lennon and McCartney,” he says. “As manager of this fine establishment, I can assure you that it is indeed –haunted. This building was once an orphanage, run by mean old Leticia Gore. One hundred years ago, this very night, Ms. Gore went insane, and butchered four little boys, before killing herself.” The boys watch from a distance. “Now, folks say that the souls of those poor little boys are trapped here. And that the evil spirit of Ms. Gore punishes them, to this very day,” the man goes on. “Well, that’s just about all the community theatre I can take,” Dean comments. “Yeah, this cannot get any weirder,” Sam agrees. The two men from earlier walk by. “Dad said – he said I may have to kill you,” the one dressed as Dean says. “Kill me! What the hell does that mean?” the Sam guy rasps. “I don’t know,” the Dean one says, and they walk away. The boys look at each other. “I need a drink,” they say in unison.

Upstairs, one of the men dressed as Sam is walking, holding a cardboard EMF meter. “EMF’s going nuts,” he says to himself. He continues down the hall carefully until a woman jumps out in front of him. “Oooooh, I’m mean old Leticia Gore. They buried me in the basement. Oooooh!” The guy shoots a plastic pellet at her. “Oh. You got me,” she says. The guy rolls his eyes. “You’re supposed to vanish?” “How am I supposed to vanish?” she asks irritably. He shrugs at her.

He walks around the corner, talking into his phone. “Yeah, okay Dean. I’ll see you in five. Yeah, but seriously dude, don’t eat my Skittles.” A little boy appears behind him. “Help us!” The guy turns back. “Help us! Ms. Gore won’t let us have any fun,” the boy says. “This is part of the game, right?” the guy asks. The boy flickers and disappears. “Holy mother of crap!” the man screams, and takes off down the hallway. He runs into a room, then stops. “That – was...” Before he can finish, something invisible yanks him upside down, then starts throwing him against the walls. A woman appears. “Naughty, naughty, naughty!” she hisses. The man screams, then falls to the ground, shocked.

Dean and Sam are sitting at the bar, having a drink. Dean glances over at the girl next to them – it’s the same one who was playing Leticia Gore. “How you doing?” he says. She doesn’t look up from her phone. “Busy.” “Well you sure look lovely tonight,” Dean goes on. “Especially for a dead chick.” “Buddy, I have heard that line seventeen times tonight,” she says, still not looking at him. “Okay? And all from dudes wearing MacGyver jackets.” She finally looks at him, and then she smiles. “But you seem different.” “How so?” Dean asks, raising his eyebrows. “Well you don’t seem scared of women,” she comments. Dean smirks.

“For the last time, I’m not making this up, okay? She’s upstairs – a real, live, dead ghost!” The man who was thrown around upstairs is standing nearby, talking to his friend, who is dressed as Dean. The boys glance at each other. “Excuse me,” Dean says, and they get up. “Look, I’m sure it was just one of the actors,” the friend says. “Who beat the crap out of me and then vanished?” the Sam guy says disbelievingly. “You saw something?” Sam asks, walking up. “Look, this isn’t part of the game, jerk,” the man says. “Tim, I’m getting out of here, and you should do the same.” He walks away. “Alex, wait...” the friend follows. “Hey, come back!” “What do you think?” Sam asks. “I don’t think that guy is a good enough actor to be acting,” Dean replies.

“Why yes, Agents Jagger and Richards,” the man running the Convention is saying to a bunch of suited men. “As manager of this fine establishement, I can tell you it is indeed haunted. The building was once an orphanage...” Sam and Dean walk by, heading to the front desk. “Excuse us – mind if we ask you a few questions?” Dean says to the man standing there. “Look, I don’t have time to play Star Wars guys,” the man replies. “Go ask the guy in the ascot.” “Actually, we really wanna talk to you,” Dean replies, pulling a bill out of his wallet and sliding it across the desk. The man laughs. “Okay – you guys are really into this.” Sam smiles fakely. “You have no idea.” The man takes the money. “What do you wanna know?” “All this stuff they’re saying – the place being haunted, Leticia Gore – any truth to it?” Sam asks. The manager smiles. “We generally don’t like to publicize this to  - you know – normal people, but yeah. 1909, this place was called Gore Orphanage. Ms. Gore killed four boys with a butcher knife. Then offed herself.” “And is tonight really the anniversary?” Dean asks. “Yep. Guess your convention folks want authenticity,” the manager replies. “Huh. There been any sightings?” Sam asks. “Uh, over the years, yeah. A few maids have quit, saying they heard the boys, or saw them. A janitor even saw Ms. Gore once.” “Where did Ms. Gore carve up the kids?” Dean asks. Behind them, the same two guys from earlier - who interrupted them with the maid upstairs – walk by, then stop, listening. “Look, I don’t want you stomping all over the joint,” the manager says. “A lot of this place is off limits to nerds.” Dean puts down another bill, and the manager takes it. “The attic.” The boys nod.

In the attic, the boys walk in with flashlights. Sam’s holding the EMF meter. “EMF’s going nuts,” he says. “Great,” Dean replies. “We got a real ghost, and a bunch of dudes pretending to be us poking at it.” “No way this ends well,” Sam agrees. “You know what, serves them right,” Dean says, stopping. “Hey,” Sam says gently. “Well I’m just saying,” Dean says. They go further in.

Outside, the two guys dressed as them are heading for the attic, too. “It’s gotta be around here someplace,” the Dean guy says raspily. “Yeah, I dunno man, no one else is looking for the attic,” the Sam guy says, but he’s talking in a regular voice. “Okay, alright, dude – one? Stay in character,” the Dean guy says, stopping. “Alright? If it’s just me, I look stupid. And two, you heard the guy downstairs. I think this is part of the game.” “Help us!” a voice says. The same little boy as earlier is standing behind them. “Oh my God!” the Sam guys says, grinning. “That makeup is amazing.” “Amateur!” his friend says. “Stay. In. Character!” “Sorry,” the Sam guy says, then “Sorry,” in a raspy, deep voice. “Help us! Ms. Gore won’t let us have any fun,” the little boy says. “Where’s the body buried, kid?” the Dean guy asks. “We’ll light her up nice and toasty.” “Yeah,” rasps his friend. The little boy points, and they turn around to see a painting. They turn back, and the boy is gone. “Wow. Fast runner,” the Sam guy comments. “Dude. Check this out,” the Dean guy says, walking over. “Oh, that is creepy!” As he pulls down the painting, there’s a handprint on the wall behind it. “Must’ve been what he was trying to tell us,” his friend says. “Do you think, Sammy?” ‘Dean’ says. He turns over the painting – there’s bloody handprints all over the back of it. They tear the back off of it, and inside is a piece of paper. They unfold it. It’s a map. “Okay, this is the coolest game ever,” ‘Sam’ says, and they both laugh excitedly.

Upstairs, the real boys continue to look. After a bit, they hear a voice. “My Mommy loves me.” They turn to see a little boy – a different one than before – sitting on the ground, his hands on his head. “I said, my Mommy loves me.” “I’m sure she does,” Sam says, nodding. “My Mommy loves me this much,” the little boy says, and takes his hands off his head. There’s a huge patch of skin missing. The boys eyes widen, and then the little boy disappears.

Downstairs, Becky is sipping her drink. She looks up and sees Sam talking on his phone, then smiles. Sam nods at her awkwardly. She grins, licks her hand, then blows on it in Sam’s direction. Sam waves. Chuck, who is sitting next to Becky, sighs. “Awesome.”

Sam goes over to sit with Dean. “Okay, so that was a guy with the County Historical Society.” “And?” Dean asks. “Not only did Leticia Gore butcher four boys, but one of them was her own son,” Sam begins. “Her son?” Dean repeats. “Yeah. According to the police at the time, she scalped the poor kid,” Sam tells him. “Oh that’s it, I’m gonna deep fry this bitch extra crispy,” Dean says. “Dude say where she was buried?” “He doesn’t know,” Sam replies.

“Check it out,” a raspy voice says, and they turn to look. The two guys dressed as them are sitting nearby, looking at the map. “There’s the orphanage, there’s the carriage house, and right there? Cemetery,” ‘Sam’ says, pointing. “You think that’s where Leticia’s planted?” ‘Dean’ asks. The real boys get up and walk over. Sam feels the map. “Hey, you mind?” ‘Dean’ asks, standing up. “It’s real,” Sam says. “A century old at least. And he’s right, there is a cemetery on the grounds.” “Where’d you get that?” Dean asks. “It’s called a game, pal,” ‘Dean’ replies. “It ain’t called charity.” “Yeah right, give me the map, Chuckles,” Dean says, holding out his hand. “Oh you’re the chuckles, Chuckles,” ‘Dean’ says. “Besides, Dean don’t listen to nobody.” He opens his jacket to reveal a red and white plastic gun tucked in his belt. “Dean! Cool it,” ‘Sam’ says. Dean pulls out his own gun, but Sam turns to him. “Dean!” “What? They’re fricking annoying,” Dean says. “Look – guys. We all wanna find the bones, right?” Sam says. “We just thought it would go faster if we all worked together.” “Uh, we get the Sizzler gift card,” ‘Sam’ replies. “Fine,” Dean says. “We get to be Sam and Dean,” ‘Dean’ adds. The boys exchange glances. “Fine,” Dean says again. “Yes,” ‘Dean’ whispers.

Outside, ‘Dean’ turns to the boys. “Hey, Rufus, Bobby, would you hurry it up?” “You alright?” Sam asks as they lag behind a little. “I’m trying to be,” Dean replies.

“So where were we?” ‘Sam’ asks. “Uh, Dr. Ellicott had just zapped your brain,” ‘Dean’ replies. “Right, got it,” ‘Sam’ says, clearing his throat. “Why are we even here, Dean? Are you just following Dad’s footsteps like a good little soldier? You that desperate for approval?” Dean raises his eyebrows as ‘Dean’ replies “This isn’t you talking, Sam.” “See that’s the difference between you and me. I’ve got a mind of my own. I’m not pathetic,” ‘Sam’ replies. “So what’re you gonna do, Sam? You gonna kill me?” ‘Dean’ asks. “Man, I am so sick of you telling me what to do!” ‘Sam’ growls.

“Alright, you know what? That’s it,” Dean says, and the two guys turn to look at him. “That is it.” “What’s wrong Bobby?” ‘Dean’ asks. “I’m not Bobby, ‘kay? You’re not Sam, you’re not Dean,” Dean says loudly. “What is wrong with you? Why in the hell would you choose to be these guys?” “Because we’re fans,” ‘Sam’ replies. “Like you.” “No, I am not a fan,” Dean cuts in. “Okay? Not fans! In fact, I think that the Dean and Sam story sucks! It is not fun, it’s not entertaining, it’s a river of crap that would send most people howling to the nuthouse! So you listen to me. Their pain is not for your amusement! I mean, you think they enjoy being treated like circus freaks?” “Uh, I don’t think they care,” ‘Dean’ replies. “Because they’re fictional characters.” “Oh they care,” Dean says dangerously. “Believe me. They care a lot.” He pushes past the two guys and keeps walking. The two guys stare at Sam questioningly. “Uh, yeah. He takes the story very seriously,” Sam says.

In the cemetery, Dean finds the four boys’ graves, and Sam finds Leticia’s. Dean looks up to see the other two guys looking around as well. “Uh, what are you guys doing?” he asks. “Uh, we’re looking for bones, genius,” ‘Dean’ replies. “Gotta be around here somewhere.” “Okay, generally bones are in the ground,” Dean says as Sam puts down his bag. “Yeah, I know that. I’m just...” ‘Dean’ begins, then stops as Sam pulls a shovel from his bag. “Wait, hold on. Are you guys serious?” “Deadly,” Dean replies. “We’re not really digging up graves you guys, we’re just playing the game, so...” ‘Sam’ says. “Trust us,” Dean says. “You wanna win the game, right?” They nod. The boys head off to dig up the graves.

As Dean digs, the other two guys watch. Dean hits the coffin, then jumps in. The wind is picking up. Dean pries open the coffin. ‘Dean’ gags. “That’s uh, not a plastic skeleton, that’s a skeleton skeleton.” “You just dug up a real grave,” ‘Sam’ adds. “Yeah,” Dean says. ‘Dean’ looks at Sam. “You guys are nuts.” “I thought you guys said you wanted to be hunters,” Sam replies. “Hunters aren’t real, man. This isn’t real,” ‘Dean’ says, and they start to walk away. “Oh my God, you guys have just seriously lost your grip on this...” ‘Sam’ begins, then freezes as he looks back. “What?” Sam asks. The ghost of Leticia Gore is standing right beside him.  She hits him in the face, and he falls to the ground. The two guys run as Dean starts to salt the body. ‘Sam’ falls, and Leticia catches them, putting her hands on their chests. They scream in pain. Dean finally sets the body on fire, and Leticia disappears with a scream. “Real enough for you?” Dean asks as the two guys stare in horror.

‘Dean’ and ‘Sam’ are sitting at the bar. “That was really...” begins ‘Sam’. “Awful, right?” Dean says from behind them. “Exactly.” He pulls out some money and puts it on the bar. “Round’s on us, guys.” “See you around,” Sam adds. “Hey – how did you know how to do all that?” ‘Dean’ asks. “We um – we read the books,” Sam replies. They walk over to where Chuck is standing with the convention guy. “Hey Chuck,” Dean says, “Good luck with the Supernatural books. And screw you very much.” They walk away. “Fans of yours?” the guy asks. “Mm, I’d say no,” Chuck says.

The boys head for the doors, but they won’t open. They push harder, try the locks. Nothing. “That’s weird,” Dean comments. “Definitely,” Sam agrees.

Dean’s trying the windows when Sam walks up. “Anything?” Dean asks. “Every exit’s locked,” Sam replies. “Almost like...” “Something’s keeping us in?” Dean finishes. “Yeah.” “This is bad,” Sam says. “Gee, you think Sammy?” Dean says sarcastically. Someone screams, and they hurry toward the sound.

The actress playing Leticia Gore is running. “Don’t go in there,” she warns, looking back at the room. “Get downstairs, okay?” Dean tells her. “Go, go!” They turn back. The little boy with the bloody head is sitting in the corner. “Why did you do that?” he asks. “Why did you send my Mommy away?” “Um, maybe because of the high and tight she gave you?” Dean replies. “Huh? How about some thanks?” Sam clears his throat. Dean looks at him. “Well I’m just saying, a little gratitude might be nice once in a while.” “My Mommy didn’t do this to me,” the little boy says. “What? Then who did?” Sam asks. The boy disappears.

The man dressed as the Hook Man is walking down a hallway, alone. A sound behind him makes him turn. Three little boys are standing there. He sighs. “Yeah, how original. Supernatural bringing you more creepy children. Sigh.” “Ms. Gore wouldn’t let us have any fun,” one of the boys says. “You look nothing like real ghosts,” the Hook Man says. “Just telling you.” “But Ms. Gore is gone,” the boy goes on, ignoring him. “And now, we can have all kinds of fun.” They all take out knives from behind their backs. The man screams.

Dean and Sam rush toward the scream, and find the man dead on the floor, a patch of skin on his head missing.

“Well guys, I guess we’re out of time, so...” Chuck is saying to his audience. “Thank you for your incredibly probing, rigorous questions. And have a good night.” Sam runs up on the stage suddenly and whispers in his ear. “What? Holy crap!” Chuck yells. Sam puts his hand over the microphone. “You gotta keep everyone safe in here, Chuck. This is life or death.” “For how long?” Chuck asks. “As long as it takes,” Sam replies. “Well, how the hell am I supposed to do that?” Chuck asks. Sam glances at the audience. “I dunno, man. Just do it.” He leaves. Chuck turns back to the audience. “Okay. So, good news.I got much more to tell you. I guess. It’s awesome.”

“Buddy, I got work to do,” the hotel manager is saying as Dean ushers him and the other staff into the room where Chuck is. “You’re gonna wanna see this – trust me. It’s gonna be a hell of a show,” Dean assures him. Once everybody’s in, Dean closes the door, and he and Sam put salt lines in front of all the entrances.

“Uh, what does the future hold for Sam and Dean?” Chuck is saying. “Well, how do you feel about angels? Yeah, no, cause let me tell you – they’re not nearly as lame as you’d think.”

Sam goes over to Dean. “Okay. New theory.” “The legends about Leticia are ass-backwards, obviously,” Dean says. “Yeah. Alright, let’s say those three orphans were... were playing cowboys and indians,” Sam begins. “LARPing, as cowboys and indians,” Dean adds. “Whatever. And let’s say they scalped Leticia’s son, and killed him,” Sam finishes. “Mom catches them in the act, flips out,” Dean adds. “Slices them and dices herself.” Sam huffs. “If that’s true, it means we’ve got three bloodthirsty brats in the building.” “Yeah, and Leticia was the only thing keeping them under control,” Dean says. “Until we took her out,” Sam adds. “Smooth move on our part,” Dean says. “Alright, well we gotta get back to the cemetery and torch the kids’ bones.” “How?” Sam asks. “We’re trapped. We don’t even have our guns. Ghosts are running this joint, and they’re only scared of one thing.” “Exactly,” Dean says, smiling a little.

“You want me to do what?” The actress asks. “You’re an actress, alright? We just want you to act,” Dean says smiling. “I work at Hooters. In Toledo,” she says. “You can forget it.” “You’ll be safe. We promise,” Sam cuts in. “This is really important.” A hand comes down on Dean’s shoulder, and they turn to see the two guys from earlier. “We wanna help,” ‘Dean’ says. “Just give her the puppy dog thing, okay?” Dean says to Sam, then turns to the two men. “Guys? No.” “Why not?” ‘Sam’ asks. “Because this isn’t make believe,” Dean replies. “Look, we know. We’re not nuts,” ‘Dean’ says. “We’re freaking terrified.” “But if all these people are seriously in trouble? We gotta do something,” ‘Sam’ adds. “Why?” Dean asks. “Because! That’s what Sam and Dean would do,” ‘Dean’ says. Dean blinks.

“Uh, no there’s really no such thing as a Croatoan virus for – down there – uh, you really should see a doctor,” Chuck is saying.

The actress walks into the room, breathing heavily. “Uh. I don’t wanna do this.” Dean leans around the corner. “I’m right here sweetheart. I got your back. Trust me, this is gonna work.” “Boys? Boys? Come here this instant,” she says shakily. Nothing. “You come when I call you! Do you understand me?” “Ms. Gore?” she turns to see the three boys.

Meanwhile, Sam is trying to open the front doors with the other two guys.

“You boys have been very naughty,” the girl goes on. “Now you open the doors. Open the doors right now!” The boys flicker.

Together Sam and the guys manage to get the door open a little. Sam tells them to go, and ‘Sam’ manages to get out.

“Very naughty,” she goes on. “You hear me? Naughty, naughty, naughty!” Suddenly, her cellphone rings. The little boys look at each other. Dean closes his eyes.

‘Dean’ manages to squeeze out the door as Sam holds it.

The actress slowly pulls her cellphone out of her pocket and turns it off, but the damage is done. The boys raise their knives. Dean comes around the corner. “Run.” She runs, and he raises the iron poker he’s holding.

‘Sam’ and ‘Dean’ are digging up the graves. “Oh my God!” ‘Sam’ gasps. “Supernatural makes digging graves seem so easy! It’s not though. I’m gonna throw up!” ‘Dean’ looks at him. “No you’re not.” They keep digging.

Dean is thrown against the wall and drops the poker. The boys raise their knives. Suddenly, Sam picks up the poker and strikes them with it, then helps up Dean. “Thanks,” Dean says, but a second later Sam is thrown against the wall. The poker goes flying.

“Uh, let’s see –what else,” Chuck is saying, rubbing his head. “I fell in love for the first time at sixteen... lost my virginity, actually – but uh – then she went around telling everybody it didn’t count. So. That’s kinda...” The hotel manager gets up and heads for the exit. Chuck stands up. “Um, excuse me? You really can’t leave. Please sir.” The manager keeps walking. “Don’t open that door!” Chuck yells, but the manager does it anyway, breaking the salt line. One of the little boys appears, holding up the knife. The audience gasps. The boy heads into the room. Chuck jumps in, hitting the ghost with the iron microphone stand. Becky smiles excitedly. Chuck closes the door. “I said no one leaves, dammit! Now somebody salt this door.” Becky watches him, smiling interestedly.

Dean is thrown back on the ground, and one of the little boys jumps on him.

‘Dean’ and ‘Sam’ are trying to burn the bones, but the lighter won’t work. “How come Dean can always light this stupid thing on the first freaking try?” ‘Dean’ says angrily. “Come on!”

One of the boys pulls Sam back and holds the knife to his head, preparing to scalp him. “Dean!” Sam yells, but Dean is on the floor, a knife over his own head. Suddenly, the boys vanish in flames.

‘Dean’ and ‘Sam’ look at each other as they stand by the burning bones.

Dean picks up the poker. “You know, maybe that guy was right. Maybe we should put these things on a bungee.” Sam nods, shrugging.

The coroners are taking away the Hook Man’s dead body. “You know, I gotta hand it to you guys, you really saved our asses back there,” Dean says to the two guys who are walking with him. “So uh, you know – thanks.” They nod. “Gosh, I don’t even know your names,” Dean realizes. “Oh – um, well I’m Barnes,” ‘Sam’ says, “This is Damian. What’s yours?” “Dean,” Dean says after a moment. “The real Dean.” They look at him for a moment, then laugh. “Yeah right!” Damian says, grinning. “Me too!” “Get the hell outta here, Dean!” Barnes says, laughing. Dean chuckles. “Well anyway... thanks. Really.” He starts to walk away.

“You’re wrong you know,” Damian says, and Dean turns back. “Sorry?” “About Supernatural,” Damian goes on. “No offense, but I’m not sure you get what the story’s about.” “Is that so,” Dean says. “Alright look. In real life? He sells stereo equipment. I fix copiers. Our lives suck. But to be Sam and Dean... to wake up every morning and save the world... to have a brother who would die for you – well who wouldn’t want that.” “Maybe you’ve got a point,” Dean says after a moment. “You know, you two don’t make a bad team yourselves. How do you know each other anyway?” “Oh, well we met online,” Barnes says. “Supernatural chat room.” “Oh,” Dean nods. “Well it must be nice to get out of your parents basement... make some friends.” “We’re more than friends,” Damian says, and they take each other’s hands. “We’re partners.” Dean blinks. “Oh.” Barnes leans his head on Damian’s shoulder. “Well. Howdy, partners,” Dean says awkwardly. “Howdy,” Barnes says. Dean walks away.

“Look Sam,” Becky is saying. “I’m not gonna lie. We had undeniable chemistry. But like a monkey on the sun, it was too hot to live.” Sam blinks. “It can’t go on,” Becky continues. “Chuck and I... we found each other. My Yin to his proud Yang. And well, the heart wants what the heart wants. I am so, so sorry.” “Yeah Sam. You know, sorry,” Chuck says from where he’s been standing next to Becky. Sam nods. “Will you be alright?” Becky asks. Sam sighs. “Honestly, I don’t know. I’ll just have to find a way to... keep living. I guess.” Becky smiles. “God bless you!” She smiles at Chuck, who grins back at her. “Alright, well hey – Chuck, if you really wanna publish more books, I guess that’s okay with us,” Sam says. “Wow really?” Chuck says excitedly. “No not really. We have guns, and we’ll find you,” Sam replies. “Okay. Okay,” Chuck nods. “No more books.” “See you around,” Sam says, turning to walk away. “Sam! Wait!” Becky calls. “One more thing! In chapter 33 of Supernatural, ‘Time Is On My Side’, there was that girl Bela, she was British, and a cat burglar?” “Yeah, I – I know,” Sam interrupts. “She stole the Colt from you, and then she ‘said’ she gave it to Lillith, remember?” Becky goes on. Sam nods. “Yeah.” “Well you know she lied, right?” Becky asks. “She never really gave it to Lillith?” “Wait what?” Sam says. “Didn’t you read the book?” Becky says excitedly. “There was this one scene where Bela gives the Colt to a demon named Crowley, Lillith’s right hand man. I think her lover, too.” “Crowley. It didn’t occur to you to tell us this before?” Sam asks Chuck. “I’m sorry, I didn’t remember,” Chuck stammers. “I’m not as big of a fan as she is.” “Becky? Tell me everything,” Sam says.

Dean is leaning on the Impala, thinking. He smiles to himself as Sam walks up. “You okay?” Sam asks. “Yeah, you know – I think I’m good,” Dean replies, still smiling. “Well, you’re not gonna believe it, but I got a lead on the Colt,” Sam says. “What?” Dean says. “Long story. Tell you on the way?” Sam replies. Dean shrugs. “What’re we waiting for?” They get in and drive away.