It was a typical beautiful day in Greece when Jared and Jensen arrived at the house they would be staying at for a long weekend. The producers had planned a promotion event in Greece and the boys decided they would like to spend a bit more time in the country.
Together they rented an old house on a cliff near the ocean. It was moderate sized house, not mansion sized, but definitely bigger than a typical American home. They walked through the main hallway, marveling at the high ceiling.
"Dude, they got a pool!" Jensen yelled as he looked out the glass doors at the back of the house.
"Jensen," Jared sighed. "The Mediterranean Sea is right down there and you want to swim in a chlorine infested pool?"
"I don't want no fish nipping at my private parts," he retorted.
"Suit yourself. I'm swimming in the sea. Meet you on the beach."
After they had a swim in their respective locations, the boys went to poke around the house they would be staying in. They began with the room to the right of the doorway as you walked in. The music room, they quickly decided. There was a grand piano in the center with a hammered dulcimer in one corner. A well loved guitar stood on a stand under a variety of awards on the wall. The curved ceilings would cause beautiful reverberation to the sound and, though they didn't know it, the room was designed to shoot the sound out of the window, over the sea. Jensen resolved to try out the guitar in his free time.
Across the hall was the lounge. It stretched the length of the house with a bar along the back wall to allow for drinks to be served to the inside and to the outside. Couches and tables were everywhere. Old murals decorated the walls, retouched to preserve the original vibrant colors the ancient Greeks were so fond of. A few potted palms also were spread throughout the room. Back in the main hall they climbed the large, square staircase leading to the upper level. It was a marvelous staircase that seemed to float midair and made Jared a bit worried about the sturdiness. It was Jensen who pointed out that if they had lasted this long and survived the crazy parties that had surely been thrown here; they wouldn't fail while just the two of them were here.
The upstairs played host to a small balcony in the front of the house and a long porch in the back overlooking the ocean. They looked at the two bedrooms and flipped a coin to choose.
Jared got the light blue room. It had a large four poster bed that may just fit his length if he angled himself slightly. The room seemed to be seashell themed; a shell border adored the wall near the ceiling and a basket of the things took up too much space on the dressing table. There was also a watercolor of a beach hung opposite the window, which overlooked the beach. Jensen smirked and went to throw his belonging in his awesome room.
A maroon wall adorned with paintings of Greek battleships was the decoration he had gotten. There were crossed swords on one wall and an intricate model of a boat was what filled his dressing table. The ceiling was black and painted with accurate stars and constellations. His bed was only a twin but it was far better than sleeping in some of the hotels they had stayed in on previous promotional tours. He decided that this would be a great vacation home.
Jared tossed in his sleep, a tiny part of his mind alert. He tossed again. This time enough for him to regain a high level of consciousness. The third time he heard it. He opened his eyes. He was still not sure if it was his imagination or not when he heard the clash of steel on steel coming from the stairs. He sat up and quietly walked to the doorway of his room, expecting to see Jensen playing with the swords in his room. It didn't make sense, but this was Jensen after all. Yet when Jared looked across the hall he saw Jensen sound asleep in his bed, curled up and clutching the pillow in his boxer shorts. Jared was about to just walk back to bed when he heard more clashing from downstairs. He peeked over the railing and rubbed his eyes, convinced he was dreaming. Below him, two men with bronze armor and shields stood dueling. They appeared Greek, the hair and the sandals gave it away, but the armor spoke of a far distant age. They seemed to move faster than humanly possible and both were laughing.
Wanting to be certain this wasn't a dream due to playing Sam too often or a hallucination caused by whatever was in the coffee he picked up on the beach, he went to wake Jensen.
"Dude, wake up. I need to be sure I'm not dreaming." He shook his friend out of his deep slumber.
"Shut up." Jensen swung a punch in Jared's direction but Jared easily dodged.
"No man, you have to get up, something weird is going on."
"I'm on vacation, I don't do weird," he muttered and rolled over. Jared sighed and grabbed his legs, roughly pulling him out of bed. Awake now, Jensen attempted to fight Jared more but the bigger man could still hold off his still half asleep friend.
"Maybe it's nothing, but I need you to tell me I'm just dreaming," he pleaded.
"Fine." They stood and walked to the balcony. They looked down to see the two Greeks still fighting each other. Jensen glanced at Jared, completely awake now. "Hey!" he yelled down at them. "What do you think you are doing in our house?" Jared rolled his eyes. The two men paused briefly, looked up, and shouted back in Greek before returning to their mock battle.
"Did you catch any of that?" Jared asked. Jensen shook his head. "What do we do?" Jensen turned and marched down the stairs. "What are you doing?" Jared hissed as he followed.
"Out." Jensen pointed toward the door, trying to imply the order with motions. The men ignored him. He trying repeating himself louder. "Out!" No response still, he walked up to them to try to gently steer them out of the house. He reached out with his hands to push them, but his hands only met air. Startled, he pulled back then tried again. He glanced at Jared and saw his own wide eyes mirrors in his friend. Thinking with his instinct now, Jared went for the kitchen and came back with a salt shaker.
"Really?" Jensen raised his eyebrows.
"If ghosts are real, who knows," he replied. "This could work. I can't see it hurting us." Jensen shrugged and watched as Jared unscrewed the top and threw it at the men. Sure enough, their skin flared up and they disappeared with angry expressions.
"Awesome," Jensen sighed. "So ghosts are real, and salt really does burn them. I guess we at least know how to fight them off."
"There's only one problem." Jared's puppy dog face looked sadly at the salt shaker in his hand. "We're out of salt."
"Iron then. There's got to be iron in the house."
"Fireplace," they said together. The boys ran to the fireplace only to realize it was purely decoration and had no pokers. They frantically searched the lower level before Jensen had an idea.
"What were Greek swords made from?" Jared thought for a moment.
"The Greeks fought many battles during the bronze age, so called because they used bronze for their weapons in addition to steel." He paused. "I think some could've been made from iron." Jensen nodded and dashed upstairs into his bedroom. He ripped the two swords off the display and ran back to Jared.
"Catch." He tossed the blade with practiced aim and Jared snatched it out of the air, flipping in around and crouching into a battle stance. Just in time, too. The ghosts reappeared and looked straight at the boys. Instead of fighting each other, they stood up straight and each faced one of the boys. Raising their ghostly blades, they saluted and the boys, after exchanging worried glances, saluted back. Battle was joined.
Strong and agile from filming "Supernatural," the boys initially held out pretty well. Despite the corporealness of their opponents, the blades met and rang out in the night. It became apparent quickly, that they were being sized up and played with. Jensen took offense at this and attempted a stab at his opponent's heart out of instinct. However, he hit only the armor and jolted his arm. On Jared's side he managed to score a hit on the arm and was rewarded with silver blood oozing from the wound.
"Hit them where there is no armor," he called to Jensen. "They still bleed." They continued to fight, both sides scoring hits on the other as they circled in the foyer. After what seemed like hours, though it was really only twenty minutes, a faint glow began to shine in from the front windows and the ghosts stepped back and lowered their swords. The boys froze but kept their points up.
"You have fought well." The ghost fighting Jared addressed the boys.
"Now he speaks English," Jensen muttered.
"It has been a pleasure dueling with you. If you would allow us, we will heal your wounds." Jared nodded in concession. The other ghost sheathed his sword and lay his hand on each of their wounds, sealing them up and removing the blood. "You have proved to be fierce warriors and as such, you have earned our loyalty. If you ever have need of us, simply call out for Achilles and Artem." With that they gave a short bow and flashed out of existence. Exhausted, the boys lowed their sword and leaned on them.
"That happened, right?" Jared asked when he got his breathing back under control.
"Fighting with ghosts and then having the same ghosts swear loyalty to us? Yea, I think so."
"No one's gonna believe us."
"I wouldn't believe us either."