trans_9 | Who the hell invented fan fiction?

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Who the hell invented fan fiction?

Because whoever it was? Dean wanted to punch them in the face. Bad enough there was some drunk bearded guy in a ratty old robe writing about his and Sam's lives. But there's people actually writing even more stories about them.

Together. Doing stuff. To each other.

Pondering this particular revelation had Dean tearing through items in the Media Library just to made sure there was no sign of those damn freaking Supernatural books by 'Carver Edlund' or worse, fan fiction. No, even worse, slash fan fiction.

(ooc: Dean's de-aging is definitely progressing now, but it hasn't got that far to be noticeable. Feel free to point and laugh at the guy freaking at the meta.)

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Sam was NOT in the media library for the usual reasons. If he wanted to do research, he tended to do that in the Sensoriums because he preferred working in Bobby's library. Right now, he just wanted to read.

So finding Dean in the media library was surprising. "Dean?" he asked, stepping around one of the chairs to see his brother better.

"Pretty busy, Sam. Gotta make sure Stacy didn't save any of Chuck's novels, or those skeevy online stories about us," Dean barked as he kept trying to hunt through records.

"What brought THAT to mind?" Sam's brow pulled down, watching Dean work. "I mean, I haven't seen anything like that around here." And he'd been paying more attention to things than Dean. "Actually, I haven't seen much of anything about anybody that's actually awake on the ship."

"Dude, you were the one looking up the skeevy stories about us together."

Dean then paused in mid-search, "Wait, you're telling me, you already checked? When?"

Sam frowned, the dent between his eyebrows deepening. "You know I only looked them up because...well, dude. Seriously?" He shook his head. "Besides, that was a while ago. A while even before we woke up."

He shrugged. "Not long after I woke up. Curiosity got the best of me once when I was stuck on the whole Nightmare King thing. I could have sworn I'd told you."

"Wasn't that long ago," Dean snorted, and then paused because yeah, Sam did say something. But it doesn't make any sense now.

"Yeah, you did, just wanted to double check," he said, his features masking his inward confusion.

"Longer ago for you than me," Sam pointed out. "Look, Dean, really, what's going on here? You've been acting kind of weird lately."

"I'm fine, Sam, will you lay off? And you're not one to talk about acting weird."

Sam shook his head, then paused. "Dean. Can I see your amulets?" It was possible, maybe, that he wasn't wearing the second one and that voice was back.

Dean gave him a puzzled look at the plural.

"Only got one, Sam. Don't you remember?" Holding out the familiar horned brass figure to him.

Sam's expression shaded more worried. "Dean. Where's the silver one with the Enochian on it?"

"Back at the house. Was that what it was? I thought that was yours. Pretty sure Cas isn't into jewelry."

Sam shook his head. "No, that one's yours. I need to talk to Daja about getting a couple more made." After a quick count of bullets, he was pretty sure they'd be okay for two more.

He paused, looking at Dean seriously for a moment. "Dean. What's the last thing you remember before waking up on Stacy?"

Dean shrugged, still not following why it was his. Clearly another protective charm of some kind, but why? They were working with the angels after all.

"What kind of question is that? We met that weird drunk prophet, and you almost gave it up to Lilith. And seriously, Ruby's bad enough there."

Sam's eyes widened and he sat back against the table. Suddenly, the things that Dean was saying on the planet made sense. A little, at least.

"Shit," he muttered, rubbing his hand back through his hair. "Oh man. Dean, that's not good." He looked up at his brother. "I'm not sure how it happened, but...I think you're losing time. When I woke up on the ship, you remembered things from past me. Like finding out the truth about the Trickster."

Dean stared back at him, and wondered if maybe Sam had a fever, "Losing time, how the hell could I be losing time, and what about the Trickster? I thought he was dead."

"I don't know how you could be losing time," Sam said, pushing himself up and starting to pace. "And no, the Trickster's not dead. Wouldn't be much of a Trickster if he couldn't fool us on that, would he?"

Not that Sam knew how they'd come by the truth. Dean had told him. "I'm not even sure where this could have happened. Maybe on the planet." The planet made the most sense. Dean had started acting strangely there, too.

Dean rubbed the back of his head, wondering about it.

"Yeah guess not, but he didn't make it when we got here I thought? Can't be the planet, I was fine there."

Sam shook his head. "He was here for a little while. Human. Like Cas." Oh man, he wished Cas were around right now. "He's been gone again for a while, though. And no, you weren't. You were acting a little strange there, too, but I didn't put it together there."

Now Dean was more confused, but when he thought about it, he vaguely remembered a smirking face walking around the ship. Huh.

He put a hand to his head, "This is freaking confusing, man."

Sam gave him a wry smile. "I'm thinking we're both pretty confused about all this, man," he said. "Right now, I think maybe we should head back to the house. And you put that extra amulet back on. It's a way to keep angels from finding us." He paused, then, "Cas's idea."

It wasn't entirely, but with Dean's memories at the place they were now, it would make far more sense that way.

Dean just nodded at that, "Yeah that Zach guy's a bit of a douche. You don't think he was down there and messing with my memories like before?"

"Just a bit." Sam reached up, rubbing his forehead. "I can't guarantee that he wasn't, but this doesn't feel like his work. For one, he's a lot more prone to gloating than just letting things run."

"Yeah I guess. Guess we better get started if I'm the hunt this time."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, good idea. I don't think there should be an actual problem, but it's better safe than sorry."

"All right, so start here, or nah, you want the Sensoriums right?" He kind of remembered him preferring those.

Edited 2011-04-20 15:39 (UTC)

"For research like this? Sensoriums." He really just preferred the feel of actual books. "On the other hand, you're going back to the house and getting the second amulet. Just in case." Sure, Sam wasn't convinced it was Zach or Michael, but he wasn't willing to take the chance, either. Especially when there had been a pod pop recently.

He paused, because a bad thought struck him and made him grimace. Hard. "I don't want to bring this up, but...if your memories are regressing, I may need some back up eventually."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll grab it," Dean replied wearily, wiping a hand over his face.

He did catch Sam's grimace, and immediately realized.

"Aw crap." And he knew, Sam knew what he did down there. He broke. He failed. Dean's gaze grew distant as he flashbacked to Hell.

Sam knew what that expression meant, too. He grabbed Dean's shoulders, shaking him. "Dean, no. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up. But I need you here and now."

He blinked and jerked back, "What? Dude, I'm fine, stop with the touchy feely crap."

"Shaking you out of that sort of memory isn't touchy feely crap," Sam replied, though he did let go. "I'm going to need to keep track of this. See how fast it's going." Hopefully, they had some time.

Secretly Dean knew that, but he had a rep to consider.

"Yeah, hey maybe I'll get lucky and whatever it is will hit the fast rewind so I skip that part," he gave a small smile at the idea.

Sam found himself smiling slightly as well, though it wasn't much or even any sort of happy. "We can certainly hope."

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Who the hell invented fan fiction?

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