Dear Danny,

It's Ben. You know that, of course, the address and everything, and I'm probably the only one still mailing letters anymore, what with email and these tricky little inventions called cell phones! I have a serious situation. Like, really serious. Pay close attention please, because i've decided to take a leap of faith, and if you don't care, then my life is probably going to go into a downward spiral very soon, and very quickly.

See, Mom and I were in a car crash. Or perhaps it's better written "car crash". She was hurt pretty badly. A piece of twisted scrap metal from the car impaled her, but the cut was so clean it was almost like somebody had stabbed her. I'm starting to believe that's what happened.

We got to the hospital in time, of course, but when I try to remember before the crash, or getting to the hospital, the details get fuzzy. This could be post traumatic stress, or whatever, but with every second that I think on it, it seems less and less likely. Most of this is because of the stash of your letters, and the rough drafts of my letters that were too messy to be read by anybody but me. See, I don't know exactly what went on in past months; I don't think so, at least. In certain points of time, everything gets blurry and it's hard to remember, even vaguely, what I was doing. Like my eighth birthday party, and days after, and other stuff. Random moments of time.

This isn't too weird. People forget stuff all the time. An entire year was a little strange, but I was ready to pass it up when I came across your letters. You see, every moment where everything gets fuzzy and I get a headache thinking about it, it aligns with a moment I described in the letters. About Dean. My eighth birthday party. The few meetings. Him moving in with us. The time he apparently showed up in the middle of the night and shoved me against the wall. Everything. And reading not only my rough drafts, but your letters, keeps giving me serious deja vu.

So then there's a problem. Why the heck do I not remember Dean? I can tell by both of our letters that I'm being completely sincere. I KNOW he was real. So why do I not remember him? The best solution I can come up with is that somebody either didn't know about, or didn't remember, you.

Let me elaborate further. I, suspiciously, didn't sustain any damage in the car crash, though Matthew died. I feel bad for not mentioning this earlier. I feel really bad, and really sad and guilty and horrible. But I've mourned and moped for four months and I need to continue on with my crazy conspiracy thoughts. Please bear with me. Because I didn't sustain more that a slightly scraped knee from the crash, and Matthew died by a piece of shrapnel in his heart that also looks too clean to be from a car crash and not deliberate. This along with the memories and letters, is way to much proof. So I figure that, since it's definitely not car crash-induced amnesia, somebody (probably supernatural, from what I read) deigned fit to erase my memories of Dean.

Might have been Dean himself. From the descriptions I gave you, I think I already knows what he looks like. Not by this itself, but the "diver format he other car" was very unnaturally similar to all descriptions, even tidbits, I gave to you of Dean. Green eyes, dirty blonde hair, pretty tall, cool jacket, ruggedly handsome (last one is a joke. Ha. Ha. But seriously, why did the man from the other car look like a freaking male model. Seriously?!)

So I'm pretty sure this guy was Dean, and he explained that he was the driver from the other car. When mom asked the hospital staff if the driver from the other car was okay, they said that nobody else had checked into the hospital from that car crash. Looks like he came out unscathed too. I WONDER WHY! (sarcasm. Mom says I'm using it a lot more than normal, but come on, I'm a freaking teenager).

So something happened. Something bad, that got Mom hurt and Matthew killed. It had something to do without he supernatural, obviously, and probably something to do with Dean. A supernatural being erased all of my memories of Dean, for whatever reason, and that sucks. You know what sucks more than that? That Dean didn't care to fill us in, to tell us about him! It would have been weird, yeah, but way better than lying and saying he was from the other car!

But this does explain the faint rope burn on my arms that the hospital said was from my seatbelt. Because it was rope burn, and very obviously rope burn. Yes, seat belts can do something vaguely similar to rope burn, I guess, but not freaking exactly the same.

Solution time, instead of just laying out all the problems? Yes indeed! See, I think I need to gather every tidbit about my awesome monster-hunting step father as possible, and the obvious way to go about that? Well, they always say that two heads are better than one, right? Yours, and mine. This would be a little hard over the phone, though, right? And ever harder with email or snail mail.

I didn't even have to say a word, because after me spending three months pouring over yours letters and such, Mom decided I had PTSD and that meeting you face to face was the best solution. She was going to call you and ask, but since I already had a lot to tell you, too much to say over the phone (especially since you think Vlad might have bugged them. Creeper.) So I just decided I'd send you this letter, and see if me and Mom coming over to Amity meet you in person was alright. You spoke of meeting me earlier (and sharing your colossal secret, which I'm even more curious over the second time learning of it), so I'm hoping you won't decline. I can get all of the letters I sent, plus your input, and maybe drop in a few more missing puzzle pieces.

What then, you ask? The only solution, really, seems finding Dean. Or whatever made me and Mom forget (hopefully Mom too, because if she was hiding what happened from me, I would be so angry!) Hopefully with you, but that's not necessary. After researching Amity Park from a more withdrawn perspective, because I forgot your letters and therefore your personality, I'm pretty sure I already know the secret. I'm not going to say over letter of course, but I'm kind of wondering how you've managed to keep everybody except three (or four, if I'm right) people in the dark, when it seems blazingly obvious. (this is time for conspicuous coughing about coughgcoughhcoughocoughscoughtcough)

So, the purpose of this letter was A) get in contact with you again after seemly forever to see if you're still alive (tee hee) and, you know, real. B) Pour out my thoughts to you and hopefully align them in my own skull. C) Ask permission about coming to Amity Park and meeting you (we'll have to pick out a time and place, too) D) confess that maybe I actually figured out the whole secret thing you kept mentioning. So yeah. Feedback would be excellent. Preferably soon. Don't try to talk me out of getting to the bottom of this, because I care too much. It won't work. I'm going after Dean. I'm finding my dad. And I'm not letting him get away from me again.

So...That's a good place to stop. Forever. Oh gosh, I'm torn between burying this curious piece of work in the rough drafts of all my failures, and continuing of with this story forever, and ever, and ever. Not really a story, but I think it fits well enough. Maybe. It's done. I was going to end it last letter, but then I couldn't. And I thought, he, what if he found Danny's letters. Wouldn't that be bizarre. Because he wouldn't remember them. And then danny's here describing (vaguely) his ghostly experiences. And the changeling thing the first letter. I added in rough drafts, because I figure Ben's handwriting had to be a little bad, right? Plus that was need-to-know for this letter, I think.

I think this is a definite possibility, because Dean didn't know how much Danny knew, so having Cas wipe his letters would be super weird, right? And then, who is going to remember Ben's pen pal when Lisa's dying and Dean makes the request. You're like, then why did he forget the letters at all. Well, I figure Cas wiped Ben and Lisa's minds of all things supernatural, as well as all the proof from Dean, but not from Danny. I was originally thinking about Ben and Danny texting back and forth, so Danny's contact name is just D. And then Crowley wanting to make a threatening phone call, and calling Danny by mistake, and Danny going all ghost boy on their asses, but I didn't. I have a deleted scene, though.

If you're wondering why I used capitals instead of un-italicize for emphasis (nobody is, stop talking!) I just kept thinking on how who in the world can actually write in italics? NOT ME! But I do write in capital letters to emphasize. Which I think carried across. Nobody cares about this of course, and there's always the possibility that they printed their letters (psshht what! NO!) But whatever. This finishing authors note is officially ended. YAY! Another complete story!