"You've never made a sex tape or anything like that before… have you?" Lizzy questions.
"Ah, once," Sam bashfully admits while hooking up the video camera to the motel television. "With Jess."
"Yeah… I was kinda hoping you'd say something like I'd never do that, that's so not like me…" Lizzy tells him. She's fully clothed now after making Sam stay in the bathroom while she covered up, their predicament making her highly bashful in front of him suddenly when normally she wasn't so reserved. Sitting on the ridiculous round bed while hugging her drawn in knees and facing the TV, her feet tap a rapid beat into the blankets with her growing nerves.
"Sorry," Sam apologizes. "Though honestly, I said I'd never do it again." He finishes plugging everything in and sits down on the floor Indian-style in front of the screen with the device in his lap. "It was awkward to watch. And so not hot at all. We erased it immediately and promised to never do that again."
"So that can't what's on there then, right?" Lizzy asks hopefully. She really can't handle having to witness that.
"I seriously doubt that's what's on here," Sam responds truthfully while pressing play. "But I guess we're about to find out."
They both sit with eyes wide, staring at the screen while consumed by anticipation and anxiety.
Immediately they are greeted by a view of their motel room in glowing green. Night vision.
"Not a good start," Lizzy worries aloud as she sees her face appear in frame.
"Hey baby," Lizzy's says with a kiss to the lens followed by an honest grin.
"Hello there, Mrs. Samuel Winchester."
Sam shudders when he hears his voice coming from off-screen. It's eerie to take in having no recollection of ever saying or doing what he's witnessing.
"God, I love the way that sounds," she responds while biting her bottom lip seductively as she scoots back on the round bed.
"Me too," Sam says from behind the camera. "You happy?"
"Sam, I don't think I can do this," Lizzy says from the bed, shaking as she views the disaster.
"Just hold on," Sam tells her as they keep watching, though truthfully he doesn't want to watch any more than she does.
"So fucking happy," Lizzy responds with her usual wide, bright smile. Her eyes are lit up with excitement. "Can't believe we actually just did that."
"Me neither," Sam laughs and the camera shakes a little. "I love you, Lizzy." Sam backs up, getting a view of Lizzy's sprawled out body, fully clothed, through the green haze of the night vision.
"I love you too, Sam-I-Am."
"Fuck," Lizzy cries out, tears threatening as she hears her own voice use her nickname for Sam. It's an out-of-body experience and she's quickly losing any composure she might have had before.
"My God, you're beautiful, you know that?" Sam's voice is heard saying as the camera suddenly steadies itself. Sam can be seen walking into frame now, standing to the side of the bed and looking down at her smiling.
"So you tell me," she smiles up at him. Sam lowers himself, crawling over to her on the mattress. Lizzy hooks a finger into the collar of his t-shirt and pulls him close. "You're not so bad yourself, hubby." Their faces come closer, just inches apart.
"Nope!" Sam says as he pauses the video and shakes his head. "No way. Nooo."
"Oh my God," Lizzy laments, her tears now falling as she looks over to Sam on the floor. "Oh, Sam, this is so bad."
"That isn't real." Full denial is all Sam is willing to process after seeing what he just did.
"Sam, we…"
"Don't!" Sam nearly shouts to her. "Lizzy, don't! We didn't!"
"But we did!" she yells back to him, pointing at the frozen frame of them about kiss on the screen. "Look at that!"
"That's not us," Sam claims. "Can't be."
"Then who the fuck is that!" she shouts, panic fully taking over. "They look an awful lot like us. And have the same names. And clothes. And tattoos. And that Lizzy has the same nickname for that Sam as I do for you!" She ends her sentence by sharply pointing at the screen with fear.
"Shapeshifters," Sam plainly states, grasping desperately at straws.
"What!" Lizzy yells back. Has he lost his shit?
"Could be a couple of shapeshifters," he reiterates, not willing to give up the theory no matter how crazy. "You and Dean were warned they'd come after us three days ago when you offed…"
"You really believe that two shapeshifters followed us all the way to Las Vegas so they could morph their asses into us, get hitched, and fuck! On tape! Do you have any clue how ridiculous you sound right now? If they were after us, they'd have killed us by now!"
"I know," Sam admits finally.
"And our eyes would be lit up like fucking Christmas trees on that video," Lizzy quickly adds.
"I know! I just… that can't be real. Lizzy, you know in your heart that that isn't real."
"Don't know what to think, dude," she tells him, wiping the tears from her face. "Fuck, where is Dean! Sam, we really need to find him."
"We don't have the first clue as to where to even look," he responds and can see the panic begin to grip her. He too wishes Dean was there to make it better. His brother always made everything better, something he learned early on in life, and even in this fucked up situation it would really help if he were there.
"What if he's hurt, or in trouble…"
"Why don't you go talk to the front desk," Sam says, cutting her off while moving to sit next to her on the bed. Normally he would drop a comforting arm around her shoulders to make her feel better but physical contact seemed like a terrible idea in the moment. "Find out what you can. Someone has to remember us coming in last night."
"Yeah," Lizzy responds, though Sam can tell from her voice and expression that she's still alarmed. "You're not coming with?" Lizzy peers over to him with a wrinkled expression.
"No," Sam responds without looking back at her. "I'm gonna stay here… and watch."
"No, Sam, don't watch that," Lizzy pleads to him, though she knows they probably should.
"I think someone has to," he responds. "Who knows what we can get from it. You know there could be answers on that thing."
Lizzy inhales deeply and then exhales with her anxiety setting in once more. Sadly, she agreed with his logic but it makes her shake even more at the thought of him witnessing what's on that video.
"Hey," Sam gently calls to her to get her attention. "We'll figure this all out and we'll find Dean."
"Ok," she says with a deep breath. "Yeah, we'll find Dean, he'll tell us what he remembers… unless he's super fucking pissed at us." A new fear sets in hard. " What if we just ditched him last night! Or he disappeared because of what we did and he hates us."
"Dean would never hate us," Sam says, actually believing what he says to her. "Maybe he's angry right now, but we'll explain everything."
"Jesus, Sam, I can't lose him!" she looks up, fresh tears streaking her face. "What if he never forgives us for this!"
"He will," Sam lies, not knowing if Dean actually would. "Lizzy, he loves you more than anything so stop thinking like that. Stay tough with me, huh? We'll get through this."
"Ok…" she cautiously agrees, though she remains skeptical. "I just want him here right now. So bad."
"Me too," Sam agrees, knowing his brother's help would be good right about now. "For now though, we're on our own. You go check out the front desk, I'll… be here."
Holy shit, his head hurts.
That's Dean's first thought as he comes to. The sun is beating onto him as he lies on his stomach on the soft ground and his head pounds a painful rhythm along with his heartbeat. Moving his arm to shade the sun from his eyes before attempting to open them, he is greeted with sand dropping over his face. Shaking his head to get it off and spitting to get the grains out of his mouth, he swiftly sits up with a start.
"What the fuck…" he mutters as he surveys his surroundings. Sand and blue sky as far as the eye can see. The dunes rise and fall across the landscape and the vicious sun makes the horizon shimmer and wave with the heat, even in February.
Dean has not a single clue how he got out here. The last he remembers he was getting drinks with Lizzy and Sam. They spent the day drinking by the pool and relaxing before heading to the bar Emily suggested they meet at. A few beers and whiskey shots were downed, mostly by him and Lizzy, and then boom… he wakes up on a sand mattress in the middle of the Mojave. At least he hopes it's the Mojave. This wouldn't be the first time Dean's woken up and not recognized where he was, not by a long shot, but alone and stranded like his? This is a first. He's never drank enough for this before.
His stomach suddenly churns as the urge to vomit hits hard. Before he knows it, Dean is doubled over on his knees as the contents of his stomach spill onto the sand below him. He can't remember how long it's been since he's had to puke the morning after drinking either. God damn, he must have chugged half of Vegas.
Once his stomach settles and his mind is functioning enough, Dean reaches into his back pocket for his phone. He needs to call Lizzy and Sam, find out what's going on and why. For the first time he panics as his hand comes up empty. Frantically he begins searching all his pants pockets. All empty. No wallet, no phone, no weapons, no keys, nothing. Keys! Where's his baby? Who has her?
"Sammy, you better have my car," Dean mutters to himself as he stands up.
Brushing off and shaking the sand out of his clothes as best he can, he turns a full three-hundred and sixty degrees. Nothing. Just more sand and sky. Fuck. Checking the watch he's now very thankful he put on before going to that bar the night before he sees that it's nearly noon. Shit, he slept a long time out here. How did he manage not to wake up for so long?
"At least I got to work on my tan," Dean jokes to no one as he looks at the suns position and determines which direction is east. "George Hamilton can suck it."
And with that he begins walking. Having no other option but to pick a direction and hope for the best, Dean chooses to go east since most of the Mojave Desert lies to the west of Las Vegas.
"I really can't take a fucking vacation, can I?"