Chap 4

-o-o-o-

Both the Trickster and Dean, who had been standing at his brother's side during Sam's furious tirade, gazed at Sam in shock. Dean recovered first, turning to look at the trickster, Dean gifted him a slow, humorless smile.

"Meet my little brother Sam. The totally pissed off version."

The Trickster seemed to hesitate for the briefest of moments, but then the glint of mischief returned to his eyes and his lips stretched into a broad smirk.

"Temperamental, much!"

Dean moved too fast for Sam to react, and he was instantly toe to toe with the Trickster, his hands grabbing the lapels of the shorter man's jacket and pulling upwards, forcing The Trickster up onto his toes. Sam moved forward, immediately very afraid for his headstrong brother, the memory a lifetime of Tuesdays still haunting him.

"Dean no!"

"You little piece of ..."

Dean's hands suddenly let go their grip on the Trickster's jacket and, instead, were clutching at his own throat whilst he desperately fought against his inability to breath. He staggered backwards and into Sam's arms, his lips rapidly turning blue.

"Stop it! Please. Let him go!"

The Trickster's smirk was gone, his faced betrayed no emotion as his cold eyes remained fixed on the struggling Hunter. Dean's efforts grew visibly weaker and his legs buckled, leaving Sam taking most of his dying brother's weight.

"What's in it for me if I do?"

"We'll do your damn pantomime. I promise! Ok? Just, stop this."

The Trickster shrugged, and the emotionless edge instantly vanished from his expression.

"Ok."

He stepped back from the brothers, watching Dean finally begin to draw ragged gasps of much needed air into his tortured lungs as Sam guided him to the floor where he knelt alongside his brother, his arms still wrapped around him.

"Deep breaths, deep steady breaths...That's good. C'mon, you're ok, you're ok."

Dean was at last able to speak as his breathing began to return to normal.

"Sonovabitch!"

Sam couldn't help his grin at his brother's choice of first words.

"So...Is everybody happy again now? Can we please get on with the show?"

Dean allowed Sam to help him back up onto his feet, all the while glaring at the Trickster.

"We do this. Then you put things back to normal. Right?"

"Right."

"And you crawl back under the rock you came from, and you stay away from my brother and me."

"Oh. Now that's harsh! We've had fun together before, haven't we Deanie? I was just trying to make y'all feel comfortable, you know? Surround you with a few familiar faces, help you relax, enjoy the experience, get into the swing of things? Honestly...I just wanted you to have some fun, get you away from the daily grind. I've got this great cast all lined up. Dean, my man. You ain't seen Cinders yet! I guarantee you're just gonna love her! Come on guys, enjoy the moment. Say! I know what the problem is! It's your dad, isn't it? You got upset 'cos I made John one of the Ugly Sisters? I can change that if you like? Just say the word. Whatever makes you happy. I'll even throw in the knickerbockers for free...See?"

Looking down at themselves, both brothers found their legs encased in wide, black velvet trousers with elasticated bottoms that ended where the tops of their boots began. Dean glanced at Sam.

"There were supposed to be trousers with this get up? Sammy! We've been standing around with our butts hangin' out and nobody, not one person, said anythin'! Seriously?"

Sam nodded.

"Sure looks that way."

"Jeeze!"

"So. Are we good to go now boys? Great!"

Before either of them could respond, the Trickster had already snapped his fingers ... ... ...

"There's somebody at the door! There's somebody at the door!"

"Well? What're you waiting for? Go on!"

Sam looked at Dean.

"Ready?"

"Ready. Let's do this."

The two brothers strode confidently on stage side by side, and the audience erupted. Once again a loud voice yelled over the whistles and cheers, Nice legs, shame about the faces. Dean swaggered to front of the stage, focusing his gaze in the direction the voice had come from.

"Hey, dude! Don't you wish your dick was as big as your mouth?"

The audience loved it, bursting into screams of laughter and applause, forcing the Wicked Stepmother to wait before saying his lines and welcoming Prince Charming and Prince Even More Charming to their humble abode.

"May I introduce my two beautiful, although I am at a loss as to who, daughters. Roberta and Joanna. Status, as yet unwed and ripe for the plucking."

Sam turned to the audience and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Really?"

"Your Highness! I think you must have misheard. I said plucking!"

Roberta playfully whacked Sam across the shoulder with her purse.

"Naughty Prince Even More. I'm a... I'm a...Ooo, what's that word?"

Sam quickly supplied an answer.

"Man?"

Joanna, by now arm in arm with Dean's character burst into a shrill, ear splitting screech of laughter which ended with an extended fit of nasal snorting and honking.

"No! Silly Princey Wincey... She meant virgin!"

Dean stepped in, quickly getting the hang of how things worked.

"I wouldn't doubt that she is, not for one second!"

The audience lapped it all up. The characters soon established that there was to be a grand ball at the palace and the two handsome princes would be choosing their wives from amongst the eligible women who attended. Sam somehow produced half a dozen large pieces of embossed card from down inside his pantaloons.

"How many invitations do you need Madam?"

The stepmother stepped forward, making a big show of snatching three cards, one at a time, from his hand.

"This will do nicely and, I can assure you both, there will be no others girls anything like my two darling, if a little hairsuit, daughters at the ball."

Knowing what was expected, the audience began shouting out again.

Cinders and Ella!...Cinders and Ella!...Cinders and Ella!

The theatre lights highlighting the characters currently on stage dimmed, leaving them standing still in near darkness and the audiance hushed, waiting expectantly. A single spotlight came on, creating a pool of pure white light by the curtained stage entrance.

The silence in the auditorium was absolute as two slender, raggedly dressed and barefooted females walked slowly and gracefully into the spotlight. Both held a long handled twig broom, like the classic witch's broomstick, in their hands, and they swept them from side to side across the floor, keeping perfect time with each other. Both held their heads down, blonde hair covering their faces, acting as though they were completely unaware of the other occupants of the stage as they began to sing.

The spotlight moved with the pair, their voices combined in a sweet and sorrowful sounding duet. The audience listened in enraptured silence, feeling the sadness within the lyrics of dreams that don't come true. Reaching the end of the song, their voices soared in total unison, pleading for a wish to come true, and they finally raised their heads, eyes closed as they held the final note.

There was a fraction of a second's pause, during which the pair stayed perfectly still, maintaining their pose under the illuminating spotlight, and then the audience roared. At first a few dozen or so of the audience leapt to their feet, then the wave of movement spread and the rest quickly followed; clapping, stamping, cheering and whistling their appreciation whilst the rest of the stage lights slowly came up again.

Caught in the stage lights, Sam was motionless, helpless to stop the tears from tumbling down his face. Next to him, Dean fought to maintain some control over his own emotions. His green eyes glistened with unshed tears, drinking in the sight of his beautiful Jo.

Ignoring the sound in his head reminding him It's not real. She's not real, Sam softly whispered one word.

"Jess..."

-o-o-o-o-

End of Act 1