Arthor's Note: Just wanted to let everyone know that I'm just going through and revising all the current chapters. After reading through them I find them mistakes that were bothering me to the point where I just couldn't focus on writing more story! Lol! So I'm fixing mistakes and then, hopefully, can finally get out this story that's been rattling around in my head the last 2 years!

Disclaimer:Sam and Dean aren't mine cuz their creator won't give them up! *pout* The boys and Supernatural belong to the Great Kripke and Company. I'm just borrowing them to play with! : )


Chapter 1

Sam clicked on the icons that led him through the various website pages. He was taking advantage of the rare dose of privacy he was getting with Dean off at one of the hunting stores the small town had in order to replenish some of their supplies. So Sam had decided to indulge himself with a guilty pleasure he had discovered.

Fan fiction.

It was something he didn't dare tell Dean about. He knew his brother would never let him live it down if he knew. So Sam patiently waited until Dean was gone for a period of time before booting up the laptop and jumping onto one of the websites that contained the stories.

But it wasn't just any fan fiction he was looking for. After learning about Chuck the Prophet and the books he had written and then discovering the rabid fan-base the series had Sam had started reading some of the stories fans had written. He had to admit, some of them really weren't half bad. Of course, the slash ones involving him and Dean freaked him out, especially when he accidently stumbled in to one that didn't list any warnings in its summary. But otherwise he found himself taking pleasure in the worlds the writers created for them, especially since many of them gave him and Dean more normal lives than either of them could have ever dreamed of.

He scrolled through the list of stories when one caught his eye. Its summary described it as a short story about Sam's first day of school. Sam smirked. He had heard the real story from Dean a million of times. How he had clung to Dean's leg and screamed at the top of his lungs when they tried to separate them. Dean had wound up being an hour late to his own class because Sam hadn't let go. Curious, he clicked the story open and began reading.

Dean led Sam to the classroom where twenty other five-year olds were being dropped off for the first time by their Mom's and Dad's. Sam clung nervously to Dean's hand and anxiously looked around at the other children.

"OK, Sammy," Dean said in the most grown-up tone he could muster. He pointed to the woman at the front of the class. "That's your teacher. If you need anything you just ask her. And you're supposed to do what she says, OK?"

Sam stared fearfully back at Dean, his large hazel eyes filling with tears.

"I don't wanna, Dean. I wanna go wif you!"

Dean sighed impatiently. "Sam, you have to stay in this room! I'll just be down the hall!"

Dean's words set off a deluge of tears in his younger brother. Sam began bawling loudly.

"NO! Don't go, Dean! Don't go! I don't wanna stay!"

Dean glanced over at the teacher who was now coming over, a warm smile on her face.

"Well, hi there. I'm Mrs. Jones, your teacher."

Sam paused for a moment, frowning. Mrs. Jones? Wait… wasn't that the name of his kindergarten teacher? Huh. That was weird.

"This is Sammy," Dean said while Sam cowered behind him. "And I'm Dean. I'm his big brother. I'm just dropping him off."

"Well, that was nice of you, Dean," Mrs. Jones said. She reached her hand out to Sam. "Why don't you come with me, Sammy, and I'll show you where you'll be sitting."

Sam's eyes grew wide with terror. He grabbed Dean's leg and wrapped his arms around it tightly, screaming at the top of his little lungs.


"Sammy! Let go! I have to go to class!" Dean yelled impatiently as he tried to shake Sam loose to no avail…

Sam stared at the computer screen, his jaw dropped.

OK, he thought to himself. That's a little freaky. This is the exact same story Dean's always told me.

He continued to read and he could practically hear Dean reciting it verbatim.

"Now, Sammy, it's OK," Mrs. Jones tried to soothe. "We're going to have such a fun day! But you have to let Dean go to class!"

It took an hour for both Mrs. Jones and Dean to pry the petrified five year old free from Dean's leg. The rest of the class watched in silent fascination as Mrs. Jones finally freed a bawling Sam from Dean who tried to console his brother.

"Sam! Come on! Stop crying! It's going to be fine! I'll be just down the hall! I promise!"Dean said as he made a beeline out the door.

It was later that day when school had ended that Dean came back to the classroom to bring Sam home. To his amazement he found Sam beaming gleefully as he said good-bye to Mrs. Jones and some of the other children in the class.

"Dean!" Sam yelled as he ran up to his brother. "I like school! It's so much fun! I learned a lot! Can I come back tomorrow?"

Dean stared at his little brother, dumbfounded. He shook his head in amazement.

"Dude, I can't believe you're my brother. You are so weird!"

Sam stared open-mouthed at the computer screen, a chill crawling down his spine.

How the hell…?

He immediately clicked on the author and was brought to their page which listed all of the other stories the author had written. Sam skimmed the list and began clicking on the stories to read them. During the next hour he was absorbed with his reading and barely heard Dean return and drop his bag of purchases on the table next to the laptop.

"Hey, Sam," Dean said casually. When Sam didn't respond Dean cocked his head and shot him a curious glance. He walked up next to him and waved his hand in front of his face. "Hello! Earth to Sam!"

Sam jumped, startled out of concentration.

"Oh! Hey! Sorry. Didn't hear you."

"I noticed. What the hell are you looking at that's so fascinating? Find some good porn?" Dean said with a smirk.

He expected Sam to roll his eyes and call him a pervert like usual. Instead, Sam shook his head and stared at the computer.

"Dude… this is freaky."

Dean frowned. "What? Did you find us a case?"

A case would be good right now. Hell, anything would be a welcome distraction after the nightmare that happened last week with Jo and Ellen. Dean still felt his stomach knot and grief threatened to overwhelm him if he thought about them for too long. They had left Bobby's under the pretense of following a lead, but really it was because Dean couldn't stand the thought of staying at Bobby's where the ghosts of their last night together still haunted him. He needed to get away. Needed some time to think.

Sam shook his head at Dean's question.

"No… I… I think I found another prophet."

Dean looked at Sam for a moment in disbelief.

"You what?"

Sam spun the laptop around to show Dean the list of stories on the screen.

"This person… every story they've written about us is true. All of them!"

"Maybe it's a coincidence," Dean said hesitantly as he began looking over the list. "Maybe they got it somehow from Chuck's books."

Sam shook his head, his face solemn. "Dean, there's stuff in these stories that there is no way they could have known."

Dean looked up from the screen to look at Sam. "Like what?"

Sam hesitated as he took a deep breath. "Like… what happened to you in Hell," he said quietly.

Dean felt his heart leap to his throat.

"That doesn't mean-"

"They knew about me and Ruby. They knew about Alistair. And…" Sam ran his hand nervously through his hair. "They wrote about Castiel and how he pulled you out."

The room fell dead silent at Sam's last statement. Dean's gaze dropped back down to the list. He scrolled through the list and sure enough he spotted one called Rescue. He clicked it open and found himself reading about Castiel's trip to Hell and how he pulled him free. He didn't say anything for a few minutes and Sam watched him carefully. Finally, Dean cleared his throat.

"OK," he said quietly. "I see your point. So what should we do?"

"I think we should try to contact them. Let them know we're real people. See if they know anything else that might help us."

"Does this thing give you a way to contact them?"

Sam nodded as he turned the laptop back towards himself and began clicking away.

"All the writers on here have profiles. On this person's profile they posted a link to their Twitter account."

"A what?"

Sam looked up at Dean's bewildered face and smirked.

"Twitter. It's a social networking site where you post messages about whatever you want."

"Why the hell would anyone want to do that? Anyone really have something that important to say?"

Sam chuckled as he looked back at the screen.

"Apparently. It's pretty popular."

Dean rolled his eyes and sat down into a chair next to Sam. "Alright. So what's our Mystery Prophet up to?"

Sam looked at the list of messages on the screen. "Um… their last one says 'At work. It sucks.'"

Dean snickered. "Sounds very deep to me!"

Sam rolled his eyes and continued reading. "Well, I think it's a girl from what I can tell. Her screen name is Evie4101 and she talks about how she's going to watch Titanic and paint her nails."

Dean groaned and rolled his eyes. "You have got to be kidding me!"

Sam smirked at Dean when suddenly his eyes lit up.

"Hey, think I've got something here."

Dean leaned in closer. "What?"

"She's talking about how she's excited to go to the first Supernatural FanFic Gathering in Ithaca, New York. Apparently…" Sam arched his eyebrow, "Carver Edlund is going to be a special guest."

Dean covered his face with one hand. "Oh God no. Please don't tell me what I think you're going to tell me."

Sam smiled grimly.

"Looks like we're going to another Supernatural convention."