Checking to recheck check-in times. Coordinating with local reporters, paparazzi, Taehyung-criticizing film enthusiasts. 5 spare microphones at the least; sound boards tend to get fickle 10 minutes after the doors open, and 500 Supernatural fans flood the auditorium. Conventions are a large and involved affair. 

Taehyung didn’t have the mind capacity to pay to Anna-related news. Jimin delivered some anyway. Cue the summoning of The All-Seeing Anna with a mere wayward thought. Smiles and neighborly pleasantries were exchanged before she erupted into full demonic possession — as per usual.

“Who’s this Dean Winchester I keep hearing about; he’s got quite the infamous reputation,” she asked.

“You’re,” Taehyung paused. Should he entertain the Queen of Hell’s whimsies? Sam wouldn’t approve. “You’re wearing a Carry On My Wayward Son graphic tee, a replica of Bobby Singer’s trucker cap, and—are those Castiel posters?” Dean’s got lives to spare for curiosity.

“Want one?” She handed him a poster tube. “Take it. They’re free at the ‘Slash’ booth.”

Taehyung read the price tag: $3.50. “You’re aware things cost money?”

“Not everything,” she kindly clarified — oh how the Queen’s softened in Dean’s presence. “You humans are predisposed to love answering questions.” 

“So you asked about the show,“ he started.

“And I received,” she sang heavenly praise. Dumbfounded by this newest insight, he allowed her a swipe at The First Blade. “A few sailors insisted I watch their ships sail at the open panel. Care to point the way, Lead Organizer?”

If Metatron had a penchant for mass angel exodus, then Taehyung had his thrice-a-week curbing of convention madness. 

“Right over there. Morning sessions tell us how many more seats are needed to adjust to the afternoon rush, so we won’t be putting limits on the body count. Try to sit near the middle if you have questions; the actors tend to answer fans—” who don’t act pretentious, he almost finished. 

A modest Anna in fanmade Supernatural merchandise almost stole what he valued most: his time. She knew. Skipping off to make fast friends, she made her own laws of nature. Salt, hexes, prayer, the Queen wouldn’t be deterred. Life is meant to carry on, and she’s meant to live it.

Carry on my wayward son. There'll be peace when you are done.