A/N 1: yeah, another WIP.
A/N 2: slightly AU as I am choosing to believe in this story that the Leviathans never came into existence on the show. (Cas successfully sent them back.)
A/N 3: set vaguely latter Season 7, with no Levs & no season finale.
A/N 4: this is set in the Gaylord Opryland Hotel (not mentioned by name in the story) which is HUGE. All descriptions are what I remember about it.

OK, not our usual place to crash, but we didn't have to stay here overnight. We probably couldn't afford to stay here, even on our credit cards. We were in Nashville to meet Eleanor at a convention for the movie made out of her book. She'd emailed us invites - one to Sam and one to me - and Sam hadn't put up much of a fight to go, so I knew he was really looking forward to seeing her again.

And actually, the invitation couldn't have come at a better time. Sam was dealing with the fallout of his crashed wall, his near-lethal hallucinations, and his torture and recovery at the psych hospital. He needed a break and Eleanor's invite was the answer to a prayer I hadn't known I'd been praying.

So, we were at some swanky hotel there in Nashville, out of place in our jeans and flannel and duffel bag luggage, surrounded by teenage girls and middle-aged women and every-aged-female in between, each one drooling over their chance to meet and greet with the stars.

"Hey!" I heard called over the hum of people filling the gigantic hotel lobby and then Eleanor was hurrying towards us, a harried looking kid trailing after her, trying his best to keep up. "You're here!"

She got Sam in a hug, and the kid following her got to stop and breathe.

"I'm so glad you made it!" She said even while she was still hugging Sam. She was up on her toes to even get as high as his shirt pocket. When she stood back, she kept her hand on his arm.

"You've got quite the crowd here." I said, looking around.

"Ha! I wish it was for me! It's all for Christian and Tom and Clayton and all the rest of the hunks who're in the movie. I'm here mostly as back-up in case somebody really important had to bail."

"You're having a 'meet and greet', aren't you?" Sam asked. "I saw that on the convention website."

"Oh, that! Yes. I think they sold four tickets!" She seemed decidedly not insulted by that. She was even smiling.

"We'll buy tickets." Sam said, immediately.

"Nonsense – don't you dare!" Eleanor turned to her hapless companion. "Gilbert, would you arrange for two tickets for my friends to my meet and greet tomorrow? Thanks so much!"

And without even waiting for poor Gilbert's nod of acknowledgement before he scampered off to do her bidding, Eleanor turned back to us.

"Now, have you checked in yet? I hope not! I've arranged a room for you. Come on with me, and we'll get you taken care of."

She linked her arm through Sam's and led us a football field length down the lobby and to the check-in counter that was longer than the I-80.

"No, you didn't have to –." That was Sam, of course. "We didn't mean for you to – that's too much – we -."

Sam kept stammering out our polite 'thanks but no thanks' to the room as we walked.

"Nonsense!" That seemed to be Eleanor's favorite word. "I can do anything I want!" She smiled up at Sam. "And this place has got to be seen to be believed. They have a river, inside the hotel. And there's an island in the middle of the river. And there's a shopping mall on the island in the middle of the river. My hometown isn't this big!"

Eleanor's enthusiasm quieted Sam, but he looked at me over her head, worried. Yeah, this place had to cost a fortune. We couldn't take advantage of her like that.

"Really, Eleanor." I stepped up. "We appreciate it, but we don't expect you to pay for this for us."

She stopped walking and turned to me.

"Wyatt, I am rolling." She said and grinned. I grinned too; you gotta love a woman who can quote from 'Tombstone'. "Really – the studio bought the rights to another book. Besides – I negotiated with the convention people to give me two rooms this weekend. Knowing Sam's predilection for refusing to let me pay for anything whenever we meet up –" She smiled up at Sam and he blushed. " – I took the precaution and set everything up before you even said you were coming. So – come on."

I seriously loved Eleanor Potevin.

The guy behind the counter was brisk and efficient and oh-so happy to help us. He gave us two key cards, and then – he gave us a map of the hotel and written directions how to get to our room.

A map and directions, just to get to our room. How big could this hotel be?

"I made sure you're right next to me, I hope that's okay." Eleanor said as she led the way from check-in to room. "You don't have to keep me company the whole time, but if we weren't in the same zip code, I wasn't sure we'd ever see each other!"

She hooked Sam's arm again – and then snagged mine – and led us away from the counter.

"Now, the elevators are this way. We should get to them by dinnertime, if we hurry."

We walked past a map and Eleanor stopped us in front of it.

"See? This is the hotel."

It was huge. It was bigger than huge. It was so huge, it had to be visible from space. I was going to say something appropriately impressed, but Sam – normally quiet, understated, think first and then think again Sam – actually blurted,

"My God – hell wasn't this big."

Yeah, that's just what we need to be talking about around a civilian.

Eleanor turned to look at him, giving him a look I wasn't surprised to see her give him. A 'I'd ask you to explain that but maybe I really don't want to' look.

"Anyway…" She said, skipping right around that. "Let's get you boys to your room and then we can get some dinner. Dean – I know how much you enjoy cheeseburgers. They have a wonderful Irish pub here that serves the best bacon cheeseburger. I may eat nothing else the whole time I'm here. Now – let's see if I can remember the way back to our time zone."

Past the map, we crossed a walkway over a huge koi pond. Pretty much the size of a Great Lake. From there we went up a ramp and to a bank of elevators at the corner of two hallways that were so long, I couldn't see the end of either of them. The elevator arrived and we all got on. It was bigger inside than a few motel rooms we've stayed in and was lined with mirrors that had Sam looking at the floor or the ceiling.

"Claustrophobic?" Eleanor asked him. She sounded concerned.

"Ha. Yeah. You could say that. Just a little." Sam answered without looking at her. She kept her eyes on him.

"It won't take long, I promise. The hotel covers a lot of ground but it's not taller than any other hotel."

Good as her word, the elevator stopped pretty soon, and then it was another jungle expedition trek down three landing strip hallways to get to our room.

"How do you not get lost here?" I asked Eleanor when we crossed our second 'intersection'.

"Honestly, I find my way back and forth through here by counting cross-hallways." She said. "First cross-hallway, nothing. Second cross-hallway is the Coke machine. Third cross-hallway is the elevator. Otherwise, there's just no outstanding features to focus on. C'mon, we're just another mile or so away from here."

Sure enough, down another landing strip hallway, we finally stopped in front of our door.

"Here we go. Just knock on my door whenever you're ready, I'm right here." She pointed to the next door down. "I had some convention flyers left in your room. Give them a look and see if there's anything you're interested in. You'll need at least a half hour head start to get anywhere."

She smiled when she said it, although by now I took her at her word. Then she smiled specifically at Sam and something changed in her eyes, she looked at him like she'd look at him in the elevator. Like she wanted to comfort him. She put her hand around his arm.

"Well, you should go in and get settled or I'll keep you out here talking the rest of the day. I'll be ready whenever you are."

"Thanks, Eleanor." I told her. Sam smiled and nodded his thanks and we both watched until she was in her room and closed the door. Then we turned to our door.

"Uh – how do these things work?" I asked of the key card. I knew how they worked, but it'd be good for Sam to accomplish something, no matter how small.

So he looked the card over then slipped it into its slot. The little button glowed green and he popped the door open – onto a hotel room that was seriously as big as half of Bobby's whole first floor.

First we had to walk down a 'foyer' that was as long as the Impala, past the huge bathroom – which had its own foyer – into a big bright room with two huge beds, a huge TV, a huge desk, a decidedly not huge room refrigerator, and a huge window that overlooked Nashville.

"Wow." Sam said. He stared all around the room, floor to ceiling, while he dropped his pack and leather bag onto the bed closest to the bathroom.

"I think Eleanor likes you." I told him. Sam rolled his eyes and looked embarrassed – but didn't disagree - and zipped open his backpack and pulled out some clothes.

"I got first shower."

"Make sure to leave the GPS turned on in your phone, in case you can't find your way back."

That got him to laugh at least before he disappeared into the cavern that was our bathroom. While he took a shower, I checked out the convention flyers. With Chuck's convention my only experience, I wasn't sure what to expect. I mean, the closest thing to a convention in the hunting life is four non-related hunters in the same room for the same reason. The only real conventions I knew about were plumbers and political.

This convention apparently was – harder to figure out than a new exorcism. Lots of words, lots of names, lots of categories, lots of things happening.

That I had no interest in.

Dessert party? No.

Boat ride down the Cumberland River with stars I've never heard of? No.

Karaoke? Really no.

Meets & Greets with the stars, including Eleanor's. Pictures with the stars. Autographs with the stars. Music videos. Trivia contest. Costume contest. Auction for charity, that one at least was not creepy.

"Hey, see if you can make heads or tails out of this." I held the flyer out to Sam when he made the trek from bath to bed. "Beats me why anybody would be interested in these things."

The time was when I could expect a long, detailed explanation of people's obsessive need for seventeen seconds of face time with a star, but Sam only hmpf'd and shrugged and plucked the paper out of my fingers.

"All right, I'll take a fast shower and we can get some dinner with Eleanor. She's going to be the best thing about this trip." I said that for Sam's benefit, but I really believed it too. Eleanor really was a sweet old girl.

"She's fifty-four, Dean." Sam pointed out, either to point out that she wasn't as old I kept thinking she was, or that she was too old for me.

"Whatever. I'll take a shower and we're out of here."

"Okay."

The bathroom was even more huge from the inside, with towels as big as bedspreads and a countertop I could park the Impala on. I could so get used to staying in places like this.

I took my shower and got dressed and scuffed back out to the main room.

"Ready? I just need my shoes and –"

And Sam was asleep on his bed, a bed so big he actually fit all on it, head to toe. He had the flyer in one hand and his dirty clothes tucked next to him, and he was so soundly, silently, finally asleep, I couldn't stand to wake him up.

If we'd been in any run of the mill, crappy motel, I'd have had no qualms leaving Sammy alone long enough to grab some take-out dinner to bring back. But in this place, once separated, I wasn't sure we'd ever meet up again.

I took the flyer and the laundry away from him and unfolded the bedspread from under his feet and over his body. Then I went next door to explain to Eleanor that dinner with us was going to have to wait.

To Be Continued