Title: Killing the Fandom

Chapter: Three

~~~~~~~~~~

“Chuck,” Sam called out before Dean could question who’d told Chuck it’d be okay. As they drew up to them, he added, “want to die here or go somewhere private?”

“What’s wrong?” Chuck’s question produced a disbelieving stare from Dean.

“Look around. Plenty wrong.” Dean’s hands closed into tight fists.

“Becky,” was Sam’s short, terse answer.

Dean began to wheeze, taking a few steps back and leaning against the table. He started muttering under his breath again.

“What about her? She did a great job organizing this re-launch convention even though we’re, you know, ex and all. I felt bad for dumping her like I did and since she just got a job organizing conventions, I told them to let her have the job. I think she thinks we’re getting back together, though. Keeps hovering and texting me.”

“She says my beautiful, pregnant wife can’t exist because she’s not in the published books.”

“Oh.” He nodded, thoughtful. “Yeah, it’d be a shock for her. I hadn’t thought of that before. I never mentioned the rest of the Campbells to her so she wouldn’t have any idea about Gwen at all. Come to think of it, she wouldn’t know about Jo and Ellen dying in the apocalypse or even the angel civil war --”

“Commencing with killing you now.” Dean reached for him.

Chuck wisely stepped behind Jo, putting her between him and both angry Winchesters. “Come on, Dean! I haven’t published anything after you went to hell. You never said I couldn’t publish the stories I’d left out of the series up to that point.”

“Is that true,” Jo asked, not exactly relishing being Chuck’s hiding place.

“It was implied he couldn’t publish anything new.” Sam stepped beside Dean. “Anything. That includes stories set in the existing series. In fact, I remember saying no more books at all. We do have guns, Chuck. Guns that are with us.”

Gwen added her support to Chuck, moving to stand by Jo, thereby giving him more cover. “But if you didn’t specify, it could be taken with his interpretation.”

“We said no books. How can he get that interpretation from that?”

Chuck cleared his throat. “Look, guys, people are tired of chick lit horror and that urban fantasy horror stuff. They want real, gritty horror now and characters they can relate to and that’s you. You two and Bobby, Ellen, Jo…. Jo has quite a following among teen girls, I’ve heard. Becky could tell you the numbers.”

“Wonderful.” She tried not to roll her eyes. Being popular among teen girls was just what she needed.

“And men like Ellen. She’s tough and sassy.”

“That she is,” Gwen agreed.

“People want scary monsters and what you guys fight are scary. Do you have any idea how many letters and emails I’m getting from real authors?”

Even Chuck didn’t consider himself a real author and Jo found that sort of sad. His words weren’t a way to diffuse either Winchester, but he went on, seemingly unfazed by the darkening frowns turned his way.

“I got a note from Stephen King, Dean. Stephen King. That’s like totally awesome! He encouraged me to keep writing my dream. He actually wrote that. He wrote that I should ‘keep writing my dream’. Did you see the rec he wrote for Born Under A Bad Sign? Stephen King wrote a rec for my book! I never thought that would happen.”

That was sort of cool in Jo’s opinion.

“I’d stop talking,” Gwen advised him. “That vein throbbing in Sam’s temple is never a good sign.”

“Yeah, I know,” Chuck sighed. “I’ve written what happens after that vein starts throbbing.”

“Not to mention Dean’s liable to punch you any second,” Jo added, ready to dive for the floor if that looked to be a possibility.

“Clive Barker said I’m reviving true horror, though there’s this one author, she writes books about a vampire killer, she keeps insisting my vampires are a blatant copy of hers and that she paved the way for my series because of her female vampire hunter.” He snorted. “Because two brothers hunting all sorts of monsters is such a clear copy of her slutty vampire hunter Mary Sue who’s screwing her way through every character ever introduced in that series.”

“Your vampires?” Jo glanced at him.

“You know what I mean.” He licked his lips. “I got invited to a real horror writers convention, guys. I even got invited to be on a panel.”

“How nice for you.” Sam’s lips tightened and as he turned his attention to the room itself, Jo knew he was checking the room for problems should they choose to drag Chuck off bodily.

“When you wouldn’t let me publish the stuff after Dean went to hell, I turned them down. I did! I swear! They pursued me, throwing more and more money at me. Finally, after considering what you’d said to me, I negotiated to just add to the existing storyline with the excuse that it really needed to be fleshed out before we could adequately delve into Dean’s hell aftermath and the attempt to stop the apocalypse storyline. One key story was Abandon All Hope and in order for Ellen and Jo’s deaths to have any real impact on readers, I had to have Jo and Ellen established in the background, which I didn’t have. They agreed, it was essential to have the background laid out and loved the idea. I didn’t think you’d be upset. It’s just fleshing out what was already there, adding depth to the world. It all takes place in-between stories already published. What’s the harm in it? It’s not really new stuff. It was years ago for you.”

“Do you have a death wish?” Gwen crossed her arms. Her cleavage threatened to spill over the top of her dress.

“But He said it was okay,” he protested, beginning to look a little afraid of the way Dean and Sam were glaring at him.

A young blond woman hurried up to them. Jo saw Sam stand up even straighter, Dean roll his eyes, and Gwen purse her lips in an annoyed manner.

“Tell me it’s not true, Chuck,” she demanded.

“Becky, hi….” Chuck sighed and looked around. For a way to escape maybe?

So this was the Becky that had Sam in a tizzy. She didn’t look like too much trouble. Jo decided she could take her by herself if it came to that -- with one hand tied behind her back.

“It’s not true, is it? It can’t be true. Married?”

Chuck stepped out from behind Jo and Gwen, squared his shoulders, and gestured from Dean to Jo. “Dean is too.”

Becky stared at her, wild-eyed. “Who are you? Someone I’ve never heard of either?” Her tone was suspicious and slightly hysterical. “Because I’ve never heard of any ‘Gwen’ and I’ve made a thorough study of each book and published articles in the Wiki. Articles plural.”

There was a Wiki for ‘Supernatural’? “I’m Jo.”

“Jo,” she repeated. “As in Jo Jo? Roadhouse Jo? Joanna Beth Jo? Ellen’s daughter Jo? Jo who punched Dean?”

“That’d be me.”

Becky blinked twice and crossed her arms. “Really, Chuck? Really? Well, at least this one is actually in the books.”

Dean reached for his wallet and opened it to the current picture of Jack he carried around. “This is our son, Jack.” He held it up.

Becky made a noise like she’d been shot. “Married with kids! No, no, no.” Now she shook her head. “My fandom’s being destroyed here. Destroyed!” She pressed a hand to her chest. “I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe!”

Dean nodded and put his wallet away. “Try this: in, out, in, out.” He drew in a breath, “in,” and let one out, “out. Just like that.”

She did the opposite, holding her breath, then gasping. “How did this happen? I mean…. How? Explain it to me! How do Sam and Dean Winchester end up married with kids? It can’t happen. They don’t get married or have kids, Chuck. They do their job and hunt until something big and bad finally gets them in the end, but they don’t settle down and become,” she gulped, “married guys with kids, going to soccer games and parent night at the school. That’s so not romantic.”

Speak for yourself, sister, Jo thought. In her opinion, being married to Dean was romance itself.

“They don’t become ordinary guys. They’re not ordinary guys, so tell me this isn’t ordinary. Tell me it’s all weird and somehow fits, but how can it fit when they have wives and kids and Dean’s carrying a picture in his wallet like my dad does and all dads do….” She gasped for breath again. “You’re killing the fandom!”

“Oh, the drama,” Gwen said under her breath, barely loud enough for Jo to hear.

“Let me.” Jo held up her hand to get Becky’s attention. “Okay, you knew the apocalypse was headed our way, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay, so mom and I --”

“Ellen and Jo.”

“Right. We tried to help Dean and Sam kill Lucifer and we ended up dying.”

“But you’re here now.”

“Yeah. See? Already not normal and ordinary.”

“Okay. I guess.” Becky crossed her arms and focused a critical stare on Jo.

“There was this bad angel who brought us back in case the apocalypse failed. He’d planned on using us as assassins against Sam and Dean, gave us false memories, and left us for them to find. He died before he could finish his plan.”

“Oh. Okay.” Becky was looking a bit calmer. The red spots on her cheeks were fading.

“Castiel the angel, an ally and friend of theirs, found me while embroiled in an angel civil war. He was trying to keep Raphael from taking over because both Michael and Lucifer fell into the cage and Raphael was the only archangel left. Raphael felt he should be in charge and, trust me, no one really thought that should happen.”

“The archangel Raphael?” Becky’s eyes widened and Jo saw a spark of interest in her eyes.

“The archangel,” she confirmed, sort of getting into this storytelling frame of mind. “Dean and Sam came and found me, kidnapped me, and helped me regain my memories. I started searching for my mom, who was without real memories herself, but hunting with Gwen. Dean and I started seeing each other and one thing led to another. Here we are. Marriage, a baby, and a ton of things in-between.” She elbowed Gwen. “Your turn.”

“Okay. I’ll give this a shot.” She looked at Sam, who was staring up at the ceiling and shaking his head. “Sam went to hell containing Lucifer, Becky. He sacrificed himself --”

Becky didn’t look at Gwen, but let out a tiny, admiring sigh.

Dean made a slashing motion across his throat and Sam winced.

Gwen seemed uncertain as she tried to take the non-verbal direction the two were trying to give her. “Oh, um…he was raised almost immediately after, but came back without a soul. He was a real dick, too, without it, but I kind of liked him anyway. We talked about anything and everything, which helped later.” She uncrossed her arms and patted her belly the same way Jo remembered doing when Jack had been kicking up a storm. Was the baby kicking? “I was raised a Campbell from nearly birth. Campbell was their mother’s maiden name. The branch I was raised in was a little further out than her branch and we never really had any contact. Sam and I thought we were cousins and -- ”

“Cousins,” Becky interrupted with an odd look on her face, like she was suddenly thoughtful by that.

Jo saw Sam, Dean, and Chuck all exchange an alarmed glance.

Gwen either didn’t notice that expression or had decided to ignore it like Becky had been ignoring her, for she continued like Becky hadn’t interrupted. “-- it turned out I was an orphan raised by them and, like with Jo and Dean, it just happened. Here we are. Married with a baby on the way.”

“Wow, you sort of suck at the whole summary thing, Gwen,” Jo murmured.

“Thanks. I think our story needed a little more explanation than yours and Dean’s since she knows who you are already and it’s a long time before I’d be introduced in the…books.”

Becky half raised one hand. “Sam had no soul?”

“His body was raised without it,” Gwen confirmed.

“You poor thing.” She turned her attention to Sam, admiration once more shining in her eyes.

Dean smacked his forehead with a hand. “Good going, Gwen.”

“What? How else could I have put it?”

“You could’ve downplayed it and talked more about what a dick he was -- and he was a dick. He was a soulless, arrogant, uncompassionate, unfeeling dick that I even contemplated killing while he slept, except he didn’t sleep then. He never slept.”

“Don’t say it, Becky,” Sam warned her.

She said it anyway. “Poor, brave man. Brave, brave hero. Going to hell for all of us and walking around without a soul. Was hell terrible for you, Sam? Was it --”

“I went to hell too, you know,” Dean grumbled. “I went to hell for Sam first. If I hadn’t gone to hell for him, he wouldn’t have been alive to go to hell saving the world and come back soulless….”

Sam, Jo, Gwen, Chuck, and Becky all stared at him.

“That sounded better in my head,” Dean admitted, “though I did go to hell first and what would you think it’s like for anyone, Becky? It’s hell! It’s pain, suffering, and never ending. It’s not fun, it’s not a picnic, and no one in their right mind would ever want to go there.”

She took a step back from him, frowning. “How did Sam get his soul back?”

“Dean made a deal with Death of some sort.” Now Gwen grimaced and rubbed at a spot on her back before heading for one table. She pulled out a chair and sat down, putting her feet up on another chair.

Becky shot a quick glance Gwen’s way, then ‘tsked’. “Dean. Deals again? Really? That’s not a good thing to be your thing, you know.”

“Got that memo, thanks.”

With an assessing gaze and a frown, Becky circled Jo. “You’re prettier than I pictured you.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re a hunter still?” Her gaze slid to Gwen and back to Jo. Was she perhaps getting used to the idea of Gwen? “Raised by hunters? A thing the whole Roadhouse storyline hints at?”

“Yes.” Jo nodded. “Mom raised me herself after dad died and Gwen grew up living and breathing that stuff.”

“Living and breathing it. That’s….” She sighed. “John knew Ellen, right?”

“Yes,” was Dean’s cautious reply.

Becky started to smile. “I think I can work with that.”

“Work?” Jo couldn’t figure out what she meant.

“Becky, no.” Sam’s tone held a warning, but the woman was suddenly oblivious.

“What’s she talking about?” Jo frowned. “Work with it?”

“My plot bunnies are going to explode if I don’t get this down,” she muttered and hurried off.

Chuck ran a hand through his hair. “Don’t ask, okay Jo? You don’t want to know. Trust me. I wish I didn’t.”

“Unfortunately,” Dean cleared his throat, “I understand what Chuck’s referring to.” Dean put his hands on his hips. “Look, I think we need to have a more in-depth talk about this. Let’s go up to our room.”

Sam went to Gwen, rubbed her shoulders a moment, and helped her to stand.

Chuck grasped his papers tighter. “I…don’t think so guys. I go up there, I might never be seen again and I happen to like living.”

“We won’t let them kill you,” Gwen told him. She was starting to look tired.

“Promise?”

She nodded. “Promise.”

“Come on, Chuck.” Dean snapped his fingers.

Sam grabbed him by the shirt and began to herd him away.

Jo and Gwen followed.

~~~~~~~~~~

Gwen and Jo sat on the couch on either side of Chuck and watched Dean and Sam pace. The two men kept up a refrain of ‘you upset my wife’ and ‘you’re dead’. When one left off, the other took up the words with an increase in emotion. Gwen slipped her shoes off, tossed one throw pillow on the coffee table and put her feet up. She’d missed the last part of the conversation in the room downstairs, but it didn’t seem like anything important had happened. She’d just really needed to sit down for a minute; She rubbed a hand across her belly and leaned towards Chuck a fraction. “Baby’s kicking. Wanna feel?”

He gulped. “That might make Sam mad and he’s already mad enough.”

“Good point.”

Jo handed a bottle of water across Chuck to her. “Here. You look tired. Hydrate. Good for you and Junior.”

“Yes, mom.” She took a long drink even though she’d been careful in her water and food consumption. “Sam, I’m not upset. It’s just a little weird is all.”

He didn’t appear to hear her. “Do you know how bad it is for her and the baby if she gets upset? Do you, Chuck?” One hand raked through his already ruffled hair. “Becky upset her. My wife exists. She does.”

“It was sort of funny in an odd way,” she said to Chuck and Jo, remembering a couple hours earlier. “Becky kept pretending I didn’t exist and Sam kept trying to get her to acknowledge me. They stood there arguing for like ten minutes over how Sam could be married with a pregnant wife when those books hadn’t been published. Kind of like those stupid ‘if a tree falls in the woods’ questions.”

“At least you didn’t get into a discussion with someone pretending to be you about your life.” Jo had given up not drinking and made herself a stiff drink upon reaching the room. “That girl Marissa has decided I’m a hardcore LARP-er with special insight into Jo…. Into myself,” she corrected and took a swig of her drink. “She’s following me around and keeps asking where I get my clothes. She also wanted to know what method I use to completely immerse myself in the character.”

“They argued for another ten over whether or not the baby even exists based on the previous ten minutes.”

“I am so sorry,” Chuck told her. “Becky’s Sam’s number one fan and she’s a little intense sometimes.”

“No kidding. Then, other convention goers arrived and thought we were having a hypothetical discussion where the books were real and Sam was married with a pregnant wife….”

Jo laughed and waved her drink. “Let me guess. AU right?”

“Yeah. What’s that all about?”

She gestured back and forth between herself and Dean. “AU Jo-Dean right here, my friend. Alternate universe, meaning not in the books, deviating from the established plot. Apparently, we’re so convincing as them…us…that Marissa says word is already getting around for fans to call us Jo and Dean -- like that’s not already our names.”

“Marissa has a big mouth?”

“Hell yeah she does.”

“I’m sorry,” Chuck repeated. “I am. I never expected any of you to be here or stay at the same hotel. Besides, He said it was okay and I thought you guys would be okay with it because He said.”

“Who said,” Dean demanded, finally stopping his pacing. “Was it Cas? Did Castiel tell you --”

“No! I haven’t seen Cas in a long time! It was….” He shook his head. “It was a voice in my head. It said to go ahead and publish all the old manuscripts, but keep leaving out last names and real identifying things.”

“Do the voices answer when you talk to them?” Gwen intended it for a joke, but raised her brows at his answer.

“Sometimes. Not usually, but sometimes. Usually, He doesn’t seem to want conversation.”

“Wait. Do you mean God? Or Death?”

“God. No way Death would bother with me, at least not until it’s time for me to, you know, pass on the mantle permanently.”

“You talk to God and He answers.” Jo took another long drink from her glass and leaned forward, reaching for the bottle to pour more. “Swell.”

“You talk to angels and they answer. Not a much bigger step. A lot of people talk to Him, I just occasionally get an actual verbal answer or instructions.”

“Okay.” Gwen started to get to her feet. “Hey, Dean, Sam. Can you guys pause the rant for a minute? I’ve got to pee again and don’t want to miss anything.”

Sam let out an exasperated sigh. “You weren’t even listening, Gwen. You and Jo were talking.”

She gave him a cheeky grin as she passed him. “Yeah, but now I want to listen. Put it on pause.”

As she went in the bathroom, she heard Dean say, “You’re actually waiting? Dude, you’re totally whipped.”

“I am not.”

“Seriously, I think she took your balls in the can with her.”

When she came out, Jo was trying to talk Dean down from his agitated state. “Calm down, sweetheart. It’s just a little fandom thing. I’m sure if we --”

“Little fandom thing? You have no idea what this is like, Jo.”

“I have an idea.” Her tone was defensive. Thinking of Marissa maybe?

Sam put his hands on his hips. “No, I don’t think you do. I’m sorry, Jo, but you can’t understand until it really happens to you. My number one, obsessed fan Becky won’t even acknowledge Gwen. Imagine what that’s like.”

“Wait, what?” Dean held up a hand, stopping his muttering. “She what?”

“Didn’t you hear me earlier?”

“He was mumbling to himself,” Jo supplied.

“Oh. She says Gwen doesn’t exist because those books haven’t been published and therefore, the baby doesn’t exist either.”

Dean sucked in a noisy breath through his nose. “You punch the bitch?”

“He showed remarkable restraint.” Gwen remembered how determined he’d been for Becky to acknowledge her. Truthfully, she’d begun to feel a little irritated herself as the argument had continued.

“Imagine it, Jo.” Sam took a few steps closer. “You’re out somewhere with Dean and some guy comes up to you and insists Dean doesn’t exist. He wants to argue with you about it.”

“Not likely to happen to me.”

“But imagine it?”

She half rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. It’d get old real fast.”

“Thank you. On the plus side, a group of fans observing our argument came to the decision that, with the right sort of woman and under the right sort of circumstances, Sam -- me --,” he jabbed a finger at himself, “could definitely have a pregnant wife.”

“That’s reassuring,” Jo sat back, fresh drink in hand, “since that is, in fact, the case.”

“I pointed out a few things to aid in that conclusion.” Gwen shifted position, sitting up as straight as she could. The baby seemed to be lodged right under her diaphragm at present and she couldn’t take a deep breath. At least he wasn’t kicking her bladder again. “Like she grew up in the life, knew a lot of his background, and had been hunting on her own for awhile. They liked the idea. A strong, independent female hunter. Kicked them off on a discussion of the women of the series. Becky got really upset by the conclusion.”

“Of course she did.” Dean crossed his arms. “She writes Wincest. Do you know what that is, Gwen?”

She flicked a finger back and forth between Sam and Dean. “You two, right?”

“In the together sense,” Sam said with a shudder.

Dean’s nose scrunched up and he also shuddered. “Together together, Gwen.”

“Does she realize you’re brothers?”

“She knows,” Chuck said in a tone that indicated he himself was grossed out by Becky’s choice of fiction. “She just chooses to ignore that fact.”

“They all choose to ignore a lot of facts,” Dean grumbled. “Like how sucky the life can be. And Becky --”

“Becky has a big ole crush on Sam.” Gwen said it plain. For a grown woman, Becky had been obvious in it. She’d displayed all the signs. “She’s upset right now because she’s not me and that’s her whole problem. Sam’s her ideal and to acknowledge he’s married with a baby on the way might stop her fantasizing.”

“Accurate observation, Gwen.” Chuck glanced at her. “Maybe if I hadn’t dumped her back when I did, she wouldn’t have fixated on Sam again. I’m sorry, Sam.”

Sam pointed a stern finger at him. “She has to admit Gwen is real. I want to hear her say Gwen is real and the baby is real and I want her to look at Gwen when she says it.”

“Good luck with getting her out of her room. She’s probably deep in a plot now about Jo being your half-sister.”

“That’s not so bad,” Jo took another sip of her drink. “Half-sister is okay, though my mom and John never, I mean never ever --”

“No, Jo.” Chuck waved a hand. “You don’t understand me. Becky writes Wincest, as in incest only, Sam and Dean together. The only way she’ll ever ‘ship you and Dean is if she can make it a family matter.”

Dean reached for the bottle on the table and took a pull from it. “She’ll probably ‘ship us all together. You, me, and Sam. One big…happy family.” He almost said that with a straight face.

“More than likely,” Chuck agreed. “If I read her expression right, she’s going to branch out now, add you.”

It was Jo’s turn to shudder and she grabbed the papers Chuck had brought to the suite with him, flipping through them and changing the subject. “I want to do karaoke and drinks at ten,” Jo announced, studying what turned out to be a list of events.

“Let me change clothes and I’ll go with you,” Gwen said, a little curious to get a better handle on the whole fandom thing.

“Don’t break the mic this time, Jo,” Dean warned.

Jo rolled her eyes. “I won’t. That was Trickster induced.”

“You think it was the,” he started, then turned to Sam. “Trickster. Teddy. Has to be. This is payback. Can’t be anything else. He’s shoved us into a bizarre world of his making.”

“It doesn’t seem like it’s not real.”

“Has to be him and it’s your fault, Sam.”

“My fault? How is my fault?”

“You’re the one who gave him his powers back.”

“Would you have rather I hadn’t? We sort of needed him right then.”

Gwen went in the room she and Sam shared to change clothes, keeping the door cracked and listening with half an ear to the conversation. What did one wear to karaoke and drinks in the middle of an absurd situation?