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Okay, the books were one thing, but this- this is bullshit. This isn’t even, like, canon or whatever the hell it was called. And Jesus, really? If they were going to make a Supernatural comic did it have to be a superhero one? And they didn’t even look like them, for cryin’ out loud!
Dean screwed his face up and stared at the poster in the window of the comic book store. It was just- just ridiculous. And yet. And yet here he was staring at an artist’s rendering of himself (kinda) wearing a goddamn superhero outfit, complete with cape.
But stupider.
The Supernatural title jumped up from the bottom of the poster with big block letters that curved up and out. Dean and Sam- their superhero, comic book selves anyway- were flying- flying for Christ’s sake- up from behind the title, side-by-side. Their arms closest to each other were bent, hands fisted by their waists, while their opposite arms were stretched out in front of them, mirror images to each other. Their outside legs were bent at the knee. Classic Superman pose, Dean considered as he wiped a hand across his mouth.
Just-
The outfits-
The outfits were fucking plaid. “Dean” was wearing green and yellow. The body of his leotard or whatever was fucking green and yellow plaid. A green “W” was resting on his chest, surrounded by a white circle, and his- his- they couldn’t be considered underwear since they were outside his clothes, but what the fuck were they called- his underwear were dark green. His boots- his fucking knee-high boots were yellow edged with dark green. The cape that billowed out from his shoulders was also dark green. He grinned maniacally at nothing, just as “Sam” did.
Sam’s outfit was just the same, but in red and brown plaid.
Holy Christ.
“Hey, Sammy?”
“What, Dean?” Dean heard the snap of the laptop being closed followed by the slam of Baby’s door. Sam’s heavy steps echoed through the strip center walkway and then Sam was towering over Dean’s shoulder.
“Do you see this? Or am I hallucinating this?”
Sam hesitated. “Uh. No. No, that’s definitely, uh, real.”
“What the fuck, Sam.”
“Yeah.”
“No, really. What the fuck, Sam.”
Sam stood silently behind him for a moment before asking, “Do you want to go read them?”
“What? No. Come on, Sam.” Dean paused. “Yeah. Okay.”
Sam smirked at him, but he followed Dean into the comic book store all the same.