Monster (A Supernatural Fanfiction) [1]

Chapter 22: 5.9.1 The Real Ghostbusters

"Who the hell are you?" Dean demanded. The man turned towards Dean as if it were obvious, holding his arms out to show him. Cassandra cringed at the smell of the beer in his hand. She despised the stench of alcohol.

"I'm Dean, too. Duh." Dean turned to Sam, confusion clear across his face. He looked down at Cassandra who only shrugged. Over Sam's shoulder Dean spotted a man dressed as the scarecrow they had defeated just four years earlier. Sam turned, following his gaze. His eyes widened.

"Uh-oh. It's Sam and Dean. I'm in trouble now," the man in the costume said. He had a can of soda in one hand, a scythe in the other. Cassandra slowly slid her angel blade in the back waistband of her jeans after realizing they weren't in any true danger. "Have fun you two. Aaaah!" He jiggled the scythe in Sam's face then walked away. Sam gazed after the man with a major bitch-face before Dean turned to his brother, ignoring Becky's giggles.

"What?" Dean questioned. The trio glanced around the room. Cassandra's eyes skimmed over a woman dressed as Bloody Mary and to a clown before her gaze landed on a vendor with black demon eyes. She knew they were fake considering she could see the man's soul and not a horribly disfigured face. He stood behind a table littered with merchandise. Coffee mugs with Impalas printed on them, a pile of Chuck's books, and anything else that was remotely related to the book series.

"Becky. what is this?" Sam asked. Becky grinned.

"It's awesome!" she sang. "A 'Supernatural' convention, the first ever." Dean's eyes landed on a man with yellow-demon eyes and he raised his eyebrows. Cassandra's breath shook at the sight. Were those really the eyes Jess had last stared into before she died? Cassandra glanced over to Sam who seemed to read her thoughts and nodded.

After Becky ushered Sam and Dean into the main room, Cassandra following, they all stood in the back behind the rows of chairs, not even filled halfway. At least the books weren't popular. Cassandra sighed and rested all of her weight on one leg, her hip jutted out slightly as she crossed her arms over her chest. She watched the overweight man from earlier race up the steps and lean down towards the microphone.

"Welcome to the first annual Supernatural convention. At three-forty-five in the Magnolia room we have the panel, 'Frightened little boy, the secret life of Dean'." Cassandra's eyebrows rose. "And at four-thirty there's the 'Homoerotic subtext of Supernatural'." Dean's eyebrows also rose and his mouth fell agape, his head tilted forward slightly in shock. Sam furrowed his eyebrows, oblivious to the creepy stares that Becky was giving him. Cassandra only stared back at the man on the stage blankly. "Oh, and of course the big hunt starts at seven pm sharp," he added.

Cheers and applause erupted from the audience and Cassandra pressed her hands to her ears, bending over slightly. Dean grabbed her shoulder to keep her from falling into the chairs and she sent him a thankful smile. She just hoped this Heavenly Hangover would fade soon.

"But right now, right now I'd like to introduce the man himself. The creator, the writer of the supernatural books. The one, the only, Carver Edlund!" Whistles screeched in Cassandra's ears and her cries were drowned out by the applause. Dean and Sam were surprised that the lights never flickered by her cries of pain, but they were thankful for that considering everyone would probably start throwing salt everywhere.

Sam and Dean's faces were expressionless as they watched Chuck timidly walk onto the stage from behind the curtains. He sent Cassandra a sympathetic glance as she straightened up but she just nodded, assuring him that she was okay. Dean wrapped an arm around her shoulders. This action didn't go unnoticed by the Nephilim, but she decided against saying anything.

Chuck tapped on the microphone and there was a sharp feedback. Cassandra clenched her eyes shut and tried to block it out. "Uh. Okay good, this isn't nearly as awkward as I—" He cleared his throat. "Dry mouth." Chuck cleared his throat again and reached over for a bottle of water, unscrewing the cap and taking long gulps from the bottle. The room was in total silence and Cassandra could hear the water flooding from the bottle into Chuck's mouth without her heightened senses. Everyone in the room, save for the trio, stared back at Chuck as if he were God. "Okay. Uh...ahem. So I guess...questions?" Suddenly every hand in the room shot up and Chuck startled slightly. Cassandra's eyebrows rose and she leaned over to Dean.