The Play's Not The Thing
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"Sam, Sam. Is it really you!"
At the sound of the familiar voice, Sam tensed up, a curse coming to his lips.
Maybe he could ignore it and make a run for the exit. He'd rather face a hungry Wendigo than the petite woman who owned the irritating voice, but unfortunately for him, there was no place to run, boxed in as he was at the check-out.
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He took in a deep breath before turning to meet her, one of her hands already pulling annoyingly at his jacket.
"Becky," he grunted, a scowl on his handsome features, contemporaneously rolling his eyes at the expression of bliss on her face.
He turned back to the cashier, paying his groceries, hoping when he looked around she'd have disappeared but knowing it was futile. In fact she was still there, the same goofy adoring gaze on her features.
"Uh, Becky," he said trying to push past her. "I gotta run. Dean's waiting and..."
"Great, I'll walk with you. We can go over old times." she gushed enthusiastically. "After all we were married, Sam, and I'm all for promoting good relations between divorced couples."
Sam shook his head. Becky was incorrigible.
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"You fed me a love potion, kidnapped me, married me, and practically raped me,. Not exactly the basis for a healthy relationship, wouldn't you say!" he bitched, shrugging off the hand she'd slipped under his arm.
"I might have made some mistakes, but it was only because I love …. loved you so much, Sam. You know love is the most powerful emotion in the universe," she prattled on ecstatically.
"You should know Sam, you and Dean...Well.. ! All you gotta do is read the books to learn all about love."
She waggled her eyebrows at him."Or you could read my stories... You might get some ideas..."
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Sam breathed in relief as the Impala came into view.
He'd never been so happy to see the black car. Now maybe she'd scoot off.
Dean wasn't going to be as patient with her as he'd been, but she surprised him by running towards the car and knocking on the window.
"Dean. It's great to see you again," she cooed.
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Dean turned a baleful gaze on her. It would have scared off a ghoul, but Becky seemed completely impervious to his malevolent glare; a glare which he then turned on Sam as if it was his fault that Becky was rapping on his Baby's glass.
Sam made his way hastily to the passenger door, slipping inside, but before he could pull the door shut Becky appeared.
Dean hadn't rolled down the window, but Becky wasn't one to give up easily, she'd scooted round.
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"Listen guys, it has to be fate that brought you here today. The local high school is putting on a musical of the Supernatural books tonight and you're just in time to catch it. I was on my way to the dress rehearsal when I ran into Sammy here."
"It's Sam," Was Sam's pissed correction,
"Oh yeah. I forgot. Only Dean gets to call you Sammy!" she apologized grinning.
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"Becky," Dean's baritone cut threateningly through the air. "If you don't back off, I'm going to drag you along with the car. It's the least you deserve for what you did to my brother."
"Dean, can't we put all that in the past? Everything ended well and I did help you to get rid of that demon, after all."
"Forgive and forget?" Dean replied sarcastically.
"Yeah. How often have you two punched each other out in the books, just to hug and make up every time."
"Whatever you say, Becky. Now get the hell away from the car or I won't be held responsible for what happens to you." Dean warned.
"Don't you want to come and see the show?"
"No..."
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"Hang on a second, Dean," Sam butted in. "What are you talking about, Becky? A school putting on a show about us. Is that what you're saying?"
"Yes, and it's all thanks to me," she declared triumphantly. "I promoted the hell out of the books on-line with my friends, one of whom is a high-school teacher here in town and she made them required reading for her class because of the wonderful spirit of self-sacrifice and heroism embodied by the two brothers.
Of course, she doesn't know the two brothers are real and that I was married to one," she added, gazing longingly at Sam.
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A twitch came to Dean's lips as Sam squirmed uncomfortably under Becky's love-lorn stare.
"Uh.. I hate to ruin this moment of 'true connection', but could you move back from the car. Sam and I need to go."
"Does that mean you don't want to come to the school and watch the musical," she moued disappointed. "For you to pass through here today of all days! That's gotta be a coincidence."
"It means we need to get as far away as possible from a teeny-bopper musical about our lives," Dean bitched. He was eminently pissed at Becky, Chuck and anything to do with those damned books.
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"Dean... "
"Sammy..?" Dean stared fazed at his little brother. "You are NOT considering doing as she asked? Wasn't Chuck's Supernatural convention and the trip to the Packles/ Adalecchi universe not enough? Now you want to watch a gaggle of kids making a fool of our lives and all the crap and pain we've been through."
"Ackles and Padalecki," Sam corrected.
" Whaa..t?"
"The actors; Ackles and Padalecki," Sam repeated.
Dean rolled his eyes. "Whatever, dude!"
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"I dunno, Dean. We found a hunt at that convention and we discovered who had the Colt."
"Not that it did us any good," Dean bitched.
"Yeah, well," Sam mused." Maybe Becky's right. It does seem a coincidence that we find ourselves in this town just when some kids are putting on a show about us."
"How do we know kids all over the country aren't putting on shows?" Dean griped unconvinced. "Maybe there's a Supernatural virus going round."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Still. It wouldn't do any harm to take a look."
Dean huffed. "I can't believe this, Sam!"
But Sam's secret weapon never failed to work and under the puppy-eyed gaze of his little brother, Dean sighed and acquiesced, while Becky looked on, a smugly-satisfied expression on her face.
"Get in," Dean ordered and Becky quickly obeyed, slipping into the back-seat behind Sam, leaning forward onto his seat.
"Down, Becky, " Dean warned. "Don't touch the merchandise! You're divorced remember!"
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Before long they pulled up at the high school.
"I gotta go back-stage guys. See you after the rehearsal," she said, scrambling out. "Just go through that door and turn right, the school theatre's at the end of the corridor."
She gave Sam one more loving gaze before disappearing round the side of the building.
"Fine, now we can take off, Sammy. Don't tell me you really want to go in there!"
Sam shrugged. "Why not. We're here now anyway. Might as well take a look. If it's a rehearsal there shouldn't be anyone else looking on."
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An abundance of teens dressed as the people Sam and Dean had loved, lost, hated and killed were milling about on the stage and at the sight, Dean wanted to immediately turn around and run out, only his brother's grip on his jacket kept him there.
"Sam, come on man," he pleaded. "These kids are going to drag our lives down to a soap. I don't need to see this."
"They don't know it's real, Dean," Sam answered patiently.
"But we do!" Dean said, studying the wooden board in which a face-sized hole had been cut, decorated with yellow and red flames and hung from the ceiling.
He didn't have to be a genius to know what that scene was to represent.
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Sam still held him, but when his little brother saw the girl with a blond wig dressed in a nurse's uniform, he tensed up.
The flaming ceiling was going to be the protagonist of more than one scene.
They caught glimpses of what was supposedly a teen Sam, a Bobby and a Dean complete with an amulet hanging round his neck, and Dean's heart wept at the memory of what he'd done with his own.
He pulled roughly away from his brother. "Listen, dude. I'm out of here. No way am I going to sit through this. You'll find me in the Impala."
"Wait. I'm coming. I don't think I want to see this either. Too many memories," Sam whispered, finding Dean's eyes.
"Too many effin' memories," Dean repeated. "We lived through them and once was more than enough."
Together they walked away, leaving the chattering teens behind. They had nothing in common with what would soon be presented on that stage by those who could never understand the Winchesters' lives.
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The Impala sped out of town, the atmosphere in the car strained, each brother drowning in their thoughts, the bad outweighing the good, the dead outweighing the living, until finally Sam spoke.
"I'm glad we left. Reading the books wasn't as bad as seeing them acted out on a stage. It would have been too painful."
Dean grunted. "Yeah"
"There's nothing we can do to change the past, but maybe I can fix one thing, that's if you want," Sam said self-consciously.
Dean looked over at him puzzled.
Sam cleared his throat. "When that kid dressed as you came out, with an amulet round his neck, I saw you touch your shirt where yours should have been..."
Dean swallowed.
"I miss it Sam. We both know I should never have thrown it away. You didn't deserve that. I've been wanting to say how sorry I was but just never…."
"It's okay, but if you really miss it..."
Dean glanced over at him, a thread of hope in his eyes. "You picked it up. Tell me you did."
Sam smiled.
"If you want it back right now, you're gonna have to park." He hadn't finished the sentence before Dean drew into the side of the road.
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Sam grinned, got out and went to the trunk where he rummaged around, coming back with the amulet dangling from his fingers.
He held it out to his brother who took it reverently and slipped it over his head where it nestled lovingly against his chest.
Dean gazed up into Sam's wet eyes and felt his own glazing over.
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"You did good Sammy. Since I threw this away," he said fingering the little horned icon. "Things have gone from bad to worse for us. This little guy linked us together and I should have known better than to drop it in the trash. I'll never make that mistake again. Thanks for taking care of it for me."
Sam sniffed. " It was never lost, Dean. I had it when you didn't. It was always with us."
"Yeah, but now it's back where it belongs and so are we. Let those kids or anyone else play around with us. It doesn't matter. All that does is right here."
Dean put the Impala into drive, the journey didn't matter as long as they walked together.
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The End