I laughed. Not majorly, just a quick five second laugh. Then I popped my head out and searched for someone to pop out with a camera. “You are hilarious. Who set you up? Doesn’t matter, because you are actually really gorgeous and remind me of Dean.”
“I’m not joking with you, just let me explain.” He said in a frustrating tone, he must be short tempered. Just like Dean is.
I was silent while I waited for his explanation.
“Well, I have to start from the beginning, if you want the full story to make sense. I read a book about some demon and there was a girl named Alessandra Cifer. In the story she died a brutal death. I felt so connected to this character that I sought out supernatural beings to help me get to you. None of them thought it was possible for me to travel to a fictional world. But one did.
“He told me that my transportation was going to come with a price. At that time, I knew nobody should suffer the death you are going to suffer. I knew that any sacrifice I would make would be worth it. I paid him with some of my memories, and he sent me to your world.”
He spoke about crazy things, that can’t be possible, and yet I believed him. There was one question bothering me, I had to ask.
“How do I die?” I braced myself.
“That’s the thing. I can’t remember. He erased all my memory of your death, I have no idea how you died or where it was or even when.” Dean said.
“Wow some hero you are.” I murmured. “How do you even know what I look like, or where I live?”
“The dude gave me a picture of you.” Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. He turned it over to me, and I nearly jump out of my skin. It was almost an exact replication of my face, just in black and white. But it wasn’t exact.
“Those are not my eyebrows.” I realized, exasperated. He laughed and I see his perfect teeth just like they were in my imagination.
I stopped laughing and stare at him. “No, this can’t be possible. Who is the guy that let you come here? How did you find him? Where do you actually live? Why are you really here?”
“I really am Dean and--”
“Are you a stalker?” I asked, concluding that that was the only way he could know Dean Winchester and where I live.
“No, I’m serious. Why don’t you believe me?” He asked.
“Because Dean Winchester is from The Occult, the book I read. You were in love with Victoria and so was Sam, your brother. I read about Dean in a book. He is fictional and happily assassinating demons and other supernatural evils.” I said.
“If you think Dean Winchester is fictional, then how would you explain this?” He pulled a wallet out of his pocket and opens it up.
On the inside is his ID. It included all his information. All of it matches up to him being one Dean Winchester.
“But Dean made many fake ID’s to prove he was someone he’s not. How do I know you didn’t just make a fake ID?” I asked.
“By thinking that I made a fake ID, you are implying that I am Dean Winchester-- which is who I really am. I can show you any proof you want,” he looks at me sincerely. “Just take a chance.”
He looked like Dean. He acted like him. He wore the same exact clothes as him. I felt like this is impossible, so I asked him the one and only question possible.
“What was the first supernatural creature you killed after you found Victoria in a shed in the asylum in Colorado, the second time?” I asked.
