Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot and the original character.
So this is a bit different. The point it to try and insert yourself in to the story but instead of using (Y/N) I made up one. Just change it to be whoever you want it to be. Thanks and enjoy!
It was dark. There were two things I was certain of. One, I was not in my own bed. The cover was scratchy as hell; one of those blankets that every household had that I swear was part sandpaper. And the smell, it was like I was lying inside a Yankee candle. It was crisp apples and sunshine and a hint of whisky. It was divine.
And the second thing I knew for certain, I was bare ass naked.
A slow thread of panic laced its way through my veins. I was naked and in a strangers bed. I racked my brain trying to figure out how I came to be in this predicament. Nothing. The last thing I remember was going to sleep between plaid sheets and a fluffy comforter in my own home. In my own bed. Wearing my own pajamas.
Fear spiked. Had I been kidnapped? Did someone break in and drug me? My breathing picked up. Apart from my erratic breaths, the room was silent. I had yet to open my eyes, too scared of what I might find. Cracking one eye open, then the next, I noticed it was not as dark as I had originally thought. A door was open, light spilling in from what I assumed to be the hallway. The walls were cinderblock and painted what looked to be a pale gray. My eyes wandered the room, I let out a held breath at the realization that I was alone. I wrapped the sheet around my chest securely and sat up. There was a desk to my right along the wall and opposite was a dresser and chair. Why did this look so familiar?
Suddenly my head spun, the room moving on its own. I clutched at the sheet, willing the accompanying nausea away. And then I heard it. Footsteps, heavy, coming from the hallway. They were getting closer. My heart was pounding in my chest now, I swear the sound must have echoed around the room. I swallowed roughly, my first thought was that I'm going to have to fight my way out of here naked as a jay bird.
They were practically stomping, they sounded like boots. And there was more than one. My knuckles turned white from my grip on the sheets. They were within feet of the doorway; I could make out shadows as they striped across the hall floor.
"Wait," one male said. Then whispers followed. I couldn't make out what they were saying. Mere seconds passed and the whispering stopped. But the footsteps restarted. I couldn't move, couldn't think, completely paralyzed with fear.
And then there they were, silhouetted in the door frame. I couldn't make out faces or details other then it was most definitely two men. Two big men. I stood no chance against them. They could snap me like a twig should they want too, granted I wasn't the smallest thing around.
With my breath still held, I waited for their first move. Time stopped, I'm pretty sure. Nothing happened, no one moved, no one spoke for what felt like an eternity.
The taller of the pair spoke first causing me to take my first breath. "We're not going to hurt you. You're safe." Why did his voice sound familiar? Don't they say that it's usually people you know that do the kidnapping and the killing?
"Right, I wake up in a stranger's bed naked and you're telling me I'm perfectly safe? Right." So maybe sarcasm was a defense mechanism, fear still coursing through my veins.
"Promise, we're not here to hurt you, sweetheart." The deep gravel of the over man's voice caused the panic to halt. I knew that voice too. But who were they? And then the smell of apples and whisky intensified, he was coming into the room. I pulled the covers higher to try and shield what I could, like the thin cotton could protect me.
"I'm just going to turn on the light. Everything is fine." And then the room was awash with bright light. I blinked rapidly, trying to adjust quickly, not wanting to take my eyes off the two strangers.
And then suddenly they weren't strangers. My death grip on the blankets faltered and my jaw dropped.
"Holy mother of pearl. You're…I mean….you're…shit." The two men glanced at each other confused. My fear completely forgotten, a slow smile crept up my face until I was practically beaming. " Oh my God, you're Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki. Holy shit."
Again the boys looked at each other, in misunderstanding. "Sweetheart, I think you have bumped your head," Jensen spoke slowly.
I looked around the room again, realization dawning on me. "This is the bunker, I'm in the bunker," I reverently whispered.
Jared stepped into the room. "How do you know about the bunker? Are you a Woman of Letters?"
"How do I, what do you mean? How do I not know about the bunker? It's been in like the last five seasons." I peered around the room again. "How did I get here? And why am I naked?" I looked between the men in front of me, fear all but forgotten.
Jared, as if not wanting to spook me, talked softly. " We were wondering the same thing. We found you in the garage curled up in the backseat of the car."
My eyebrows shot up. "I was in Baby?" I looked away grinning trying to process this new information when Jensen's brow crinkled.
"How do you know about Baby?" he snapped.
Jaren placed a warning hand on his shoulder, "Dean." He then turned to me. "What's your name? I'm Sam and this is my brother, Dean." He was so serious I couldn't help but laugh.
"Oh you're killing me here! Do you guys always call yourself Sam and Dean? Ahhh, it's so cute!"
Still slightly defensive, Jensen crossed his arms across his chest. "I think you have us confused with someone else."
"Jensen. Jared. Can I call you that? Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening! Really, you guys are just too much!" I smiled, not that I had been able to stop.
Something seemed to dawn on Jared. "Wait a minute, remember when we went to that alternate dimension or reality or whatever?" he spoke to Jensen. "I think that's what their, our, names were. The actors."
I'd say I smiled again but I hadn't actually been able to wipe this stupid grin off my face. "Guys, seriously, what is going on? Why am I here? Why can't I remember how I got here? Where's the rest of the crew? Why am I naked? And why are y'all still in character?"
Jensen seemed to finally understand what his counterpart was saying. " So let me get this straight, you think we're a couple of actors, and this is just some show?" he clarified, thrusting his thumb between Jared and himself.
"Well duh."
"Sweetheart, my name is Dean Winchester and the beast over there is my little brother Sam."
My smile faltered. "Stop messing around guys. Just tell me what's going on. Am I being 'Punked'?" I looked around for hidden cameras, half expecting Ashton to just out from the hallway.
"We're not messing with you, swear."
Frustration leaked into my voice, "Come on, enough. Just tell me what is happening. Dean and Sam aren't real. Just stop messing around now." I unconsciously clutched the blanket tighter, waiting for the men to break into smiles and stop the charade. But they didn't.
Fear hit me again like a cold blast. They were delusional. They honestly believed they were Sam and Dean Winchester. Maybe all the money and fame went to their heads, turned them nuts. Is this really how I'm going to die, at the hands of the 'Winchester' brothers? My heartrate spiked. As if they could sense the change, both raised their hands.
"Listen, I promise we're not going to hurt you," Dea..Jensen spoke calmly. I was back to white-knuckling the covers, trying but failing to breathe steadily. He took a step toward me and my eyes shot up, terror rolling off me in waves. "Please, I promise you. We're just trying to help." Hands still raised in a placating gesture, he slowing made his way to the dresser. He gently opened one drawer and withdrew a t-shirt and pajama pants. "Here, why don't you put on some clothes and then we can talk."
Slowly, as if afraid they would spook a deer, the boys backed into the hall and out of sight. They didn't go far though as I could still make out their shadows along the floor. I eyed the clothing warily. I guess 'talking' fully clothed was better than being killed naked. Keeping my eyes trained on the empty door frame, I grabbed the articles and dressed as quickly as possible. I assessed my body, nothing broken, bruised, or even banged up as far as I could tell. I guess if they had wanted to hurt me they would have had plenty of opportunity while I was passed out. I cleared my throat.
"Ready sweetheart?" Jensen called.
"Mmhmm," was all I could muster.
They cautiously stepped back into the room. Jensen grabbed the chair from the desk and Jaren dragged the other one from the opposite wall, each sitting a good distance from the bed.
"Why don't you have a seat" Jared asked politely. Still keeping them in my eyesight, I lowered myself back onto the bed fiddling with the hem of the ACDC shirt I was wearing.
"Let's start over, My name is Sam and this is Dean," he gestured to the other. "What's your name?" I wanted to let out a snort of laughter but thought better of it. With their level of crazy, I don't want to do anything that would potentially upset them.
"Sara."
"Great, Sara. Do you remember anything on how you got here? How did you get into a locked top secret facility in the middle of the night?"
"I didn't. I mean, I don't know how I got here. The last thing I remember I was at home in my bed."
"Where is home?" Jared asked.
"Cincinnati, Ohio."
"We'll you're a long way from home."
"You said I was in Baby when you found me?"
"Yea," Jensen spoke. "It felt like an earthquake, whole place started shaking. And then I could smell you. Followed it out to the garage and there you were."
I looked aghast and leaned my face into my shoulder. All I could smell was the amazing scent from earlier, apples and sun, and whisky. I really needed to figure out what laundry detergent they use because this is the shit. Anyway... "Do I, did I smell that bad? I don't smell anything now. Oh god, did you have to clean me up?" I gasped.
Jensen seemed a little embarrassed but continued. "No, of course not. We wouldn't do that. I mean, besides, your scent it was, is good. I mean, Jesus, it's damn good."
I sniffed my shoulder again then brought a few strands of hair to my nose. Nope, didn't really smell like anything to me.
Jensen continued, "It's been months since we've seen an Omega, maybe going on a year so you weren't hard to sniff out."
I just stared at him unmoving. Omega? "What do you mean, 'Omega'? What…I mean who…" I fumbled with my words. Sure, I read the fanfiction, knew the general rules but it just added another level of nutty to the pile these boys were building.
"Listen, it doesn't matter, it's not real. None of this is. If I could just borrow your phone I'll call someone to come pick me up and we'll forget this whole thing happened. Kay?" I held my breath hoping they didn't lose their shit and just murder me right then and there. Slowly, Jensen removed a phone from his pocket and tossed it on the bed beside me.
I dialed the first number I could think of. But it said there was no such number. I tried another friend. The call could not be completed as dialed. Again, I tried another friend. Nothing. My parents, nothing. Aunt and then ever the babysitter that used to watch me as a kid. Nothing. The boys sat silently.
"Somethings wrong with your phone. I can't place any calls." Surely that's the answer. Still holding his phone, I thought of a perfect was to end all this nonsense. I'll just Google Jensen and Jared, show them I know, and then this whole thing will make so much more sense.
But Google came back with no answers. According to the internet, there was no Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki. Surely he must have done something to his phone. Maybe it was one from the set. But that would be an awfully elaborate prop.
I looked up between the two, they almost had pity splashed across their faces. "Why don't you exist?" I whispered.
"We do sweetheart. But we're not these two guys you seem to think we are."
"So let me get this straight, you're Dean and Sam freaking Winchester. You hunt monsters for a living, paid a visit to Hell, are best friends with an angel of the lord, and have beaten the devil himself. Sound about right?"
"You forgot I like long walks on the beach, sipping champagne, Alpha, and have a serious love of pie," Dean, I mean Jensen, chuckled.
A giggle escaped my lips but the smile fell quickly. "How am I supposed to believe you? This is all make believe, a TV show. Can you prove to me you are who you say you are?"
Jared, Sam?, looked thoughtful for a moment. "Our anti-possession symbols. Do these actors have tattoos?"
"No, I don't believe they do."
Simultaneously both men pulled down the collars of their shirts to reveal matching tattoos.
"It's makeup, guys. I'm not that easy."
Dean…..Jensen….stood. Maybe I had pushed too far, angered him, maybe this was it. I held my breath as he took the few steps toward the bed. He gently lowered himself directly in front of me. His green eyes were bright and I could see every freckle. But the smell, I was damn near drooling. It was the same as the bed and the shirt I was wearing but a thousand times stronger. Damn, did he bathe in this laundry detergent? I unconsciously leaned closer to him.
Like a shock to my system, I realized what I was doing. I snapped back. I was damn near sniffing a lunatic. An absurdly gorgeous lunatic that smelled like my every fantasy but still.
He pulled his collar down again, "Here, see?"
My hand automatically reached for the exposed skin. Looking into his eyes, seeking permission, I continued until I met warmth. A hiss escaped his lips and he almost looked pained but I was on a mission. I tried to rub the mark, smear the makeup but it didn't budge. Without thinking I licked the pad of my thumb and brought it back to his chest. It still didn't move.
"Did she just, did you just 'mom lick' me?" I pulled my hand away quickly, my cheeks flushing.
Sam stood, "Does that prove it?"
I glanced between them. "I mean, I don't know. What else you got?" For some reason Dean smiled.
"Come on, let us show you around. You definitely won't find any rubber knives in this house."
Still slightly leery I wasn't about to be murdered any moment, I rose from the bed.
