"No, I'm not a fan, okay. Not fans. In fact, I think the Dean and Sam story sucks. It is not fun, it's not entertaining. It is a river of crap that would send most people howling to the nuthouse! So you listen to me. Their pain is not for your amusement. I mean, you think they enjoy being treated like-like circus freaks?"~~~~Dean, "The Real Ghostbusters

Barnes sat in front of his laptop, hands poised over the keyboard. He still wasn't sure if he wanted to find out. It had been almost a week since the convention and he couldn't block out all that had happened from his mind. Ghosts existed and salt-and-burns really worked. What else from those books was out there? Werewolves? Vampires? Wendigos? He shuddered.

He then remembered those two guys, especially the one who claimed to be the real Dean and what he said about his life, how it wasn't fun or entertaining, that it wasn't anything to be wished for. "Their pain is not for your amusement."

He had been thinking about it on-and-off since they got home but didn't say anything to Demien because he would just explain it away. He decided to pull up a web search using some of the dates and places Carver Edlund used in the books.

He typed in "November 2, 1983" and "Lawrence, Kansas". When too many entries popped up, he added "fire" to narrow it down. One of the first links was to the Lawrence Journal-World and an article about a house fire in which the mother, one Mary Winchester, died but the father, John, and his two sons, Sam and Dean, survived.

"Winchester." Barnes jotted down the name. Now that he had something more to work with, he entered "Dean Winchester" and looked under images. What he saw shocked him. "Oh, my God!"

"What're you looking at?" Demien was back. He looked over Barnes' shoulder. "Hey, isn't that the guy from the convention? Why am I not surprised he has a record?"

Barnes looked at his partner. "It's him. He wasn't lying. He is Dean."

"Nah, he's just someone who really went too far with the LARPing. Psychotic break, maybe."

"The stuff he's wanted for matches exactly what it says in the books,"

"Of course it does. He just Photoshopped it."

"It's the FBI website." Demien still wasn't sure. "OK, let me try something else." Barnes typed in the address for Stanford and searched for Sam Winchester. Yep, there he was and all in information matched the books, including his 174 LSAT score.

"Holy crap, dude! They're real!" Demien pulled over a chair and sat down next to him. "Does this mean everything they hunt is real, too?"

"I would think so."

"We are so stocking up on salt, iron and holy water. Oh, and we're getting those tattoos."

"We don't know what they look like. Those things have to be precise. We have to find some of the books they used."

"Right. We'll just head down to the library and ask for all their old, musty books on the occult."

"There's got to be somebody who knows." Barnes was feeling nervouse now that he knew what was out there.

"There is." Demien pushed Barnes aside and typed into the laptop.