Chances are when said and done
Who'll be the lucky ones who make it all the way?
Though you say I could be your answer
Nothing lasts forever no matter how it feels today
Chances are we'll find a new equation
Chances roll away from me
Chances are all they hope to be
Don't get me wrong I'd never say never
'Cause though love can change the weather
No act of God can pull me away from you
CHANGING CHANNELS
MOTEL
Wellington, Ohio
Dean's POV
I shoveled another handful of popcorn into my mouth, chewing loudly as Beth and I lounged on the double bed of yet another tired and old motel room, completely absorbed in the show on TV. A medical emergency broke out on the screen with all the on-duty interns being summoned to station five south - wherever that was - and then Dr Palmer and Dr Piccolo entered the elevator…. I leaned forward, watching closely, my hand funneled popcorn to my mouth automatically. This was going to be the moment.
Beth stopped looking at her phone and started to take more of an interest in the screen. "No way…" she said.
"Yes way," I nodded, "I told you."
As soon as the doors of the elevators closed, Palmer and Piccolo started to make out like Beth and I after a long drought between getting our own motel room. Beth groaned and fell back on the mattress, and I chuckled, watching as the male doctor started to run his hands along the others' back.
"What are you watching?" Sam asked, looking up from his research at the small table in the corner.
"Hospital show," Beth said, sitting up again and reaching for the popcorn. "Dr Sexy, MD."
"I think it's based on a book," I added, throwing a piece of popcorn at Beth, who deftly caught it in her mouth. I grinned as she munched on it loudly, her bites quickly overshadowed by Sam's sigh.
"When did you two hit menopause?" He asked.
"It's called channel surfing," I said defensively, standing up and turning off the TV as Sam grabbed his jacket.
"Hey I was still watching that!" Beth protested.
"First, no you weren't, you were on your phone. Second, it goes for another half hour, we got things to do," I replied, getting down to business. If there was one thing I hated, it was that Sam seemed to have a better work ethic than us lately. In fact, he was really pushing the cases, while Beth and I seemed to be caught up in a tug-of-war between the job, and a little house in Minnesota.
The latter sighed, tossing aside the popcorn and slipping into her jacket.
"Fine," she grumbled, looking over at me. She flicked her long hair over her shoulders and adjusted the jacket to square her shoulders, a movement that told me her feathers were a little ruffled. I'd have to get to the bottom of that later, I realised, but for now Sam was looking at us expectantly.
"You ready?" I asked him, as if he hadn't been waiting on us all this time.
"Are you?" Sam snorted, his expression bemused.
I grabbed the keys off the table, giving him one of my pointed looks telling him I wasn't in the mood for his crapola.
"I was born ready," I muttered, leaving the two of them to follow me out the door.
POLICE STATION
Wellington, Ohio
Sam's POV
Dean and Beth were on edge, they had been for months. It seemed to have reached a peak around Halloween, and now in the lead up to December - a time which seemed to hit us all a little hard - they were worse than ever. I had been watching them my whole life it seemed, and the picture that was starting to form made me feel uncomfortable - like I was losing a piece of a world that, as messed up as it was, made sense to me. So I made us work, just like Dad.
"One more time," the officer in front of us asked. "The FBI is here why, exactly?" He skeptically viewed the three of us, which was odd enough, with a raised eyebrow.
"Might have something to do with one of your locals getting his head ripped off," Dean supplied, not missing a beat.
"Bill Randolph died from a bear attack," the officer replied quickly, but there was doubt there, something simmering below the surface. Like many of the cases we'd worked - there was weird, and then there was downright inexplicable, and that was when people tended to take a dive into denial.
"How sure are you—that it was a bear?" I asked, writing a few items I wanted from the shop in my notebook. To the officer I was astutely interested and being thorough. I couldn't have been more bored of the routine.
"What else would it be?" Came the reply.
Beth leaned on the counter and looked at her nails, glancing up at the officer. "Well, whatever it was—it chased Mr. Randolph through the woods, smashed through his front door—followed him up the stairs, and killed him in his bedroom. Did I miss anything?" Her expression was dead serious.
"Is that common, a bear doing all that?" Dean asked, his face as deadpan as Beth's.
The officer shrugged, at a loss for words because deep down he knew we were right: he just didn't want to admit that, because then we might start digging and find something that couldn't be explained. And guys like Officer Jones here, they didn't like to have their worlds rocked.
"Depends how pissed off it is, I guess. Look, the Randolphs live way up in high country. You got trout runs to make a grown man weep," he looked at Beth, adding, "...and bears.
"Right," I nodded, standing a little straighter and looking around the station. "Now, what about Mrs. Randolph? The file says she saw the whole thing."
"Yes, she did. My heart goes out to that poor woman," the officer replied.
"She said bear?" Beth asked.
"Kathy Randolph went through a hell of a trauma. She's confused," he supplied. Dean practically snorted, I narrowed my eyes at the officer, a look that said I meant business.
"What did she say?" I queried.
INTERVIEW ROOM
Wellington, Ohio
Beth's POV
Kathy Randolph was clearly in shock, and appeared as if she was starting to doubt her own memories - something that was common when you saw something you couldn't explain, and the rest of the world tried to convince you that you were imagining it.
"No, it must have been a bear. I mean, what else could it have been?" She asked when Dean questioned her on what she'd seen. I glanced over at the one-way mirror on the wall, knowing that Sam was watching carefully from the other side. We'd decided not to crowd her, but now I was thinking perhaps Sam's puppy dog eyes could win her over.
"Mrs. Randolph, what do you think it was?" I asked softly, offering her an encouraging smile.
"No, I, I remember clearly now. It was definitely a bear," Kathy insisted. Dean leaned back in his chair with the barest of sighs.
"We're sure it was. But see, it helps us to hear every angle. So just tell us what you thought you saw," he said.
Kathy paused, looking from Dean to me, and then around the room. She seemed to be thinking it over, chewing on her lower lip as if she was weighing up whether or not to trust us. I couldn't blame her, I knew what it was like to be called crazy just because you'd experienced the supernatural. We both smiled encouragingly as she hesitantly opened her mouth.
"It's impossible, but...I could have sworn I saw...the Incredible Hulk," she said.
"The Incredible Hulk," without warning the skepticism fell out of my mouth.
"I told you it was crazy," she said, pulling back inside of herself.
"Bana or Norton?" Dean asked, not missing a beat.
"Oh, no, those movies were terrible. The TV Hulk," Kathy replied, a serious expression on her face.
Dean nodded and smiled at me. "Lou Ferrigno," he supplied.
"Yes."
"Spiky-hair Lou Ferrigno?" Dean asked.
"Yes."
"Huh," he replied, his brow raising up curiously.
"Bana was definitely better," I said, thinking about the movies that I had seen.
"Huh?" Dean asked, looking over at me with a surprised expression.
"Huh?" I replied, feigning innocence. I loved to tease him. He might know he was my world, but it never hurt to keep him on his toes.
"You think I'm crazy," Kathy cut in.
"No," Dean said, turning to look at her and shaking his head. "No. Uh, no, it's just...is there, uh, would there be any reason that Lou Ferrigno, the Incredible Hulk, would have a grudge against your husband?"
"No," she answered.
"No…" Dean echoed, turning once again to look skeptically at me. "Bana? Really?"
"Oh yeah…" I said with a smile at Kathy. "He's sexy."
"She's not wrong, I wish it had been Bana," Kathy agreed.
"As Hector," I giggled, leaning forward on the table.
"Oh yes," Kathy breathed appreciatively.
"What the…?" Dean was staring at us.
"He doesn't understand, he thinks the world revolves around Brad Pitt," I said conspiratorially to Kathy.
"Too much of a pretty boy," she replied, shaking her head. I leaned an elbow on the table and smiled over at Dean, acting as if he was my partner, not my husband.
"Bit like Dean here…"
That got his hackles up. "Hey, now!" He complained. Kathy was looking at Dean, dressed in a suit, up and down with a smile. Her gaze hovered momentarily over his groin, she licked her lips quickly and then raised her eyebrow at him.
"I don't know… he looks like he has a bad boy side."
"See?" Dean said, gesturing to her as if she'd just declared him James Dean. "There you go."
"Mmmm," I shook my head, taking a sip of my coffee and swallowing it before answering. "She doesn't know you the way I know you," I said, looking at Kathy. "Nothing bad boy about this one. He's all chocolate and ice cream wrapped up in sunshine and rainbows. Cries when he watches Bambi. Prefers Herman Munster over Gomez Addams," I said with a grin. Dean's mouth dropped open at the reference, his eyes narrowing in challenge.
"Gomez was so sexy…" Kathy said dreamily.
"Herman had moves!" Dean protested. I grinned at him, feeling as if the ice had been broken with Kathy. If there was something further, anything strange at all, she would call now that we'd bonded over Bana.
"We're terribly sorry for your loss, Kathy," I said, changing the subject and handing her a card. "But please, if you think of anything else…. Anything at all, please call us. We believe you." I stood up, Dean following suit as Kathy watched us, a little confused at the sudden departure. Dean cleared his throat and wished her all the best as I led the way out of the room. Once outside he leaned into me, his breath hot in my ear.
"Bana… really?"
I laughed and winked at him, smiling as Sam came to join us. "Let's go pretty boy," he said to Dean and I couldn't help but chuckle.
"Man I hate it when you two gang up on me!" Dean announced, starting to lead the way to the car.
MOTEL ROOM
Wellington, Ohio
Dean's POV
She'd only been joking, but I was still bristling over the pretty boy comment. I glared at the photo of Eric Bana as Hector up on my screen before flipping back to the Wellington Guardian article about the local man who had been killed in a "bear attack". The door to the motel room opened, and first in was Sam, followed by Beth. I glanced at the picture of Bana again frowning.
"Hey," Sam said.
"Find anything?" I asked.
"Well," Beth said, flipping on the light in the room. I flinched with the sudden brightness as she continued to talk. "We uh, saw the house."
I looked up, curious. "And?"
"And there is a giant eight-foot-wide hole where the front door used to be," Sam said. "Almost like, uh…"
"A Hulk-sized hole," I supplied, receiving a nod from Beth.
"Maybe," Sam replied. "What do you got?"
"Well, it turns out that Bill Randolph had quite the temper," I said, bringing up a few police reports that I'd been going through. "He's got two counts of spousal battery, bar brawls, and court-ordered anger management sessions. You might say you wouldn't like him when he's angry."
"I daresay I wouldn't like him at all," Beth said, crossing her arms.
"So a hothead getting killed by TV's greatest hothead. Kinda sounds like just desserts, doesn't it?" Sam said. I snorted, it did seem rather poetic.
"It's all starting to make sense," Sam continued, taking a seat on the couch against the wall.
"How is it starting to make sense?" I asked, looking up at him.
"Well, I found something else at the crime scene," Sam said, reaching into his pockets and then pulling out handfuls of candy wrappers, dumping them on the table in front of him. Beth nodded again, gesturing to the discarded trash.
"Candy wrappers," she said. "Lots of them."
It was starting to make sense, indeed. We'd dealt with this before. "Just desserts, sweet tooth, screwing with people before you kill 'em—we're dealing with the Trickster, aren't we?"
"Sure looks like it," Beth said, moving to the weapons bag on the end of our bed. She started rummaging through it as I watched her, feeling slightly anxious, and angry at the same time.
"Good," I said finally, swallowing down a lump in my throat. "I've wanted to gank that mother since the Mystery Spot."
"You sure?" Sam asked carefully, looking from Beth to me.
"Yeah I'm sure," I replied quickly with a nod.
"No, I mean are you sure you wanna kill him?" Sam asked. This got Beth's attention. She stopped what she was doing and stood upright, turning to look at our misguided brother.
"Why the hell wouldn't we Sam?" Beth asked. "He's damn well earned it after what he put us through."
"Son of a bitch didn't think twice about icing me a thousand times," I agreed.
"No, I know, I mean, I'm just saying…" Sam's voice trailed off as he threw his arms out in a shrug.
"What are you saying?" I asked. "If you don't want to kill him, then what?"
"Talk to him," Sam replied. Beth was holding a gun in her hands, and at Sam's suggestion she clicked the clip into place.
"Woahhhhh," she said, shaking her head.
"What?" I asked, frowning at him.
"Think about it, guys. He's one of the most powerful creatures we've ever met. Maybe we can use him," Sam said quickly.
"For what?"
"Okay, Trickster's like a Hugh Hefner type, right? Wine, women, song—maybe he doesn't want the party to end. Maybe he hates this angels and demons stuff as much as we do. Maybe he'll help us," Sam said, standing up and looking hopefully at us both. Beth was watching him, her mouth slightly opened as she took in what he was saying.
"He's serious…" She said finally.
"You're serious?!" I echoed.
"Yeah," Sam replied.
"Ally with the Trickster?" I clarified.
"Yeah," Sam nodded.
"A bloody, violent monster, and you wanna be Facebook friends with him? Nice, Sammy." I was starting to think he was losing his damn mind.
"The world is gonna end, Dean. We don't have the luxury of a moral stand. Look, I'm just saying it's worth a shot. That's all," Sam replied. I shifted uncomfortably at the thought, looking over at Beth who sighed and then shrugged.
"I dunno… I still remember that Mystery Spot. I'm pretty sure I'm not over it," she said, tucking the gun into the back of her pants.
"Well, those bullets aren't going to do the trick," Sam pointed out. Beth smirked and crossed her arms.
"They'll make me feel a lot better, and slow him down til I get a stake into him," she replied. I grinned, a moment of pride washing through me. That's my girl. The reality was, it didn't matter whether we wanted to befriend or behead the Trickster, we had to find him first.
"How are we gonna find the guy, anyway?" I asked. "It's not like he's taking out a billboard."
"Well, he never takes just one victim, right? He'll show," Sam said.
Several Hours Later
MOTEL ROOM
Wellington, Ohio
Beth's POV
I still wasn't sold on the 'let's reason with a psycho" tactic Sam was taking, but after much arguing, I'd agreed to trial this. Just the same, Dean and I were sharpening stakes and getting them ready for the back-up plan when the talking failed.
Sam was watching us warily as he listened to the police scanner, and after a moment cleared his throat. "So… are we agreed? We try to reason with this guy?"
Dean seemed fed up with the conversation as he sat next to me, and I flopped back onto the bed with an audible whine.
"Yeah, okay, fine," Dean grumbled, falling back next to me. I sighed and glanced over at his face, mere inches from mine; he was worried about me.
"If it doesn't work, we'll kill him," I commented.
"Better," Dean smiled.
"Um, Dispatch? I, I got a possible 187 out here at the old paper mill on Route 6?" A man's slightly harried voice came over the scanner.
"Hey," Sam said. Dean sat up, pulling me with him as he focused on the scanner. I frowned, a 187 was a murder, this could apply, but maybe not. People died every day. Still, Sam was focused as if we had found our man.
"Roger that. What are you looking at there, son?" Asked the dispatcher.
"Honestly, Walt, I, I wouldn't even know how to describe what I'm seeing. Just—send everybody."
"All right, stay calm, stay by your car. Help's on the way."
Sam turned off the scanner, turning to look at us expectantly.
"That sounds weird," Dean conceded, I had to agree. Most of the time you didn't get a call to send everybody, especially with a murder, the killer was generally long gone by that point.
"Weird enough to be our guy," Sam agreed. My hand twitched on my thigh, itching to get a go at this Trickster. I had a lot of unspent rage inside, and he had it coming. I didn't know how well I was going to be able to adhere to Sam's wishes to bargain with him.
We were at the scene of the murder in under fifteen minutes, and the site was dead. Dean frowned as he exited the Impala, looking up at the warehouse. "There was a murder here, and there's no police cars. There's nobody. How's that look to you?"
"Crappy," Sam said.
"Like our kind of luck," I muttered, moving to open the trunk. Dean reached into the armory and pulled out three stakes that we'd been working on earlier. I grabbed three flashlights, handing one to Sam as Dean locked his arm around my neck, pulling me in close to him so he could plant a kiss on my forehead.
"Chin up, sugarpie. After this I'm taking you on a holiday," he said. I chuckled and looked up so I could kiss his cheek.
"We don't get holidays."
"Well, maybe we should start," he said.
"Guys?" Sam said from the front of the car. "Are you coming?"
"Yeah, yeah," Dean muttered. "Damn impatient…"
HOSPITAL
Dean's POV
We stepped into the warehouse, finding it bustling with interns and nurses, sick people and orderlies. I looked down and found myself in a white lab coat, a stethoscope around my neck. Next to me, Sam was wearing exactly the same thing.
"What the hell?" I asked.
As I looked up, a pretty blonde in a lab coat, along with Dr Wang from the show Beth and I had been watching earlier, passed by.
"Doctor," she said to him.
"Doctor," he replied.
"Doctor?" Sam asked, a look of confusion on his face. And where was Beth? I turned around, twisted the knob on the door to go back outside, only to find a janitor's closet - and two people making out. I closed the door quickly, looking up at Sam in consternation.
"Oh boy," I muttered. I had a bad feeling about this. This place looked way too familiar, and I didn't like what that meant.
"What's going on here?" Sam asked. I was staring at a brunette doctor by the receptionist's desk. She looked over at us, and then zeroed in on Sam, starting to make a beeline for him.
"Oh boy," I repeated, watching as she came to a standstill in front of Sam and then slapped him, the sound of it echoing down the corridor.
"Ow!" Sam exclaimed, reaching up to rub his cheek.
"Seriously," she said to him, and I couldn't believe my eyes. It couldn't be? She looked like it… but, seriously?
"What?" Sam asked.
"Seriously? You're brilliant, you know that? And a coward. You're a brilliant coward," she said to Sam, her voice wavering with emotion.
"Um. What are you talking about?" Sam asked, glancing sideways at me. She slapped him again.
"As if you don't know!" She exclaimed. I shrugged, after all, who could argue with that? Turning on her heel, the doctor stalked off down the corridor in a haze of fury. I watched her, shaking my head.
"I don't believe this…"
"What?" Sam asked.
"That's Dr. Piccolo," I said, pointing after the retreating woman.
"Who?" Sam asked.
"Dr. Ellen Piccolo," I replied. "The sexy yet earnest doctor at…." I looked the sign behind the receptionist's desk, gesturing at it. Damn it, here we go again! "Seattle Mercy Hospital."
"Dean…What the hell are you talking about?" Sam asked.
"The doctor getups. The, the sexy interns. The 'seriously's. It all makes sense," I said.
"What makes sense? What's going on?" Sam questioned.
"We're in Dr. Sexy, MD," I replied, looking up at Sam who was gaping at me. "We gotta find Beth," I decided, and without further consultation, I started walking down the corridor in the opposite direction to which Piccolo had gone.
"Dude, what the hell?" I asked, gesturing at the different interns in short skirts running around. The dramatics that were playing all around us.
"I don't know…" Sam said.
"No, seriously, what the hell?" I repeated.
"I don't know."
"One theory," I continued. "Any theory."
"Uh, the Trickster trapped us in TV Land," Sam offered.
"That's your theory?" I asked, looking at him skeptically. "That's stupid."
Sam rolled his eyes and looked at the people around us. "You're the one who said we're on Dr. Sexy, MD."
"Yeah, but TV land isn't TV Land. I mean, there's actors and, and lights and crew members, you know. This looks real," I pointed out.
"It can't be. Dean, how can this possibly be real?" Sam questioned. It was a valid query. How could it be real? These were actors, on a TV show, this wasn't real. It couldn't be. But it sure felt real.
"I don't know," I muttered, running a hand through my hair. Dr Wang walked past us and I grinned at her, feeling a little star struck.
"Doctors," Wang said with a nod as she passed.
"There goes Dr. Wang," I said to Sam. "The sexy but arrogant heart surgeon." We watched her continue walking down the corridor, a sexy swagger to her hips which was pleasing to the eye. She passed a gurney, and my eyes fell to the man sitting on it. "And there's Johnny Drake. Oh, he's not even alive, he's a ghost in the mind of…" I looked around, seeing another brunette doctor walk out of one of the ward rooms and take a seat on the gurney. "Of her. The sexy yet neurotic doctor over there." I pointed her out to Sam who shook his head.
"So...this show has ghosts? Why?" He asked.
"I don't know," I shrugged. "It's compelling."
"I thought you said you weren't a fan."
"I'm not," I denied, my eyes falling to a couple of people just beyond the ghostly couple. "I'm not," I insisted at Sam's snort. "Oh boy."
"What?" Sam asked.
"It's him," I whispered, recognising the doctor from a distance.
"Who?"
"It's him," I repeated as the doctor I was watching started walking toward us. "It's Dr Sexy, and he's talking to my wife!" I felt my feathers ruffle, if I'd had any, and we both looked to Beth who was dressed as a nurse, smiling and laughing with Dr Palmer as they moved through the busy corridor.
"So I was thinking… dinner, my place, tonight at eight?" Palmer said within earshot, and Beth smiled at him, nodding as if she was agreeing.
"Son of a bitch!" I exclaimed, taking a few steps in their direction, Sam following.
The pair came to a stop in front of us, and Dr. Palmer looked at me. "Doctor," he said. I looked down, feeling nervous all of a sudden.
"Doctor," I snarled. Palmer turned to Sam, inclining his head.
"Doctor."
Sam nodded and I sighed, smacking him upside the head. He needed to get with the program. Sam scowled at me, but turned back to Palmer. "Doctor."
I looked at Beth with a frown, not liking that Dr Sexy had just been hitting on my wife. "Nurse…."
"Doctor," Beth replied with a smile, clearly more amused than I was feeling. Dr. Palmer looked expectantly at Sam, who shifted uncomfortably beside me. I nudged him with my elbow, inclining my head toward Beth, who was watching Sam with a raised eyebrow.
"Uh… right… nurse," Sam said finally.
"Doctor," Beth replied, her eyes glittering in amusement.
"This is insane," Sam whispered in my ear.
I didn't reply, instead turning my attention to Palmer, who addressed me with a stern look. "Must you hit on everything that walks?" I asked him, and he raised an eyebrow, as if that was a good enough answer.
"Seriously…" I muttered under my breath when he didn't offer an answer. Sam cleared his throat and this seemed to trigger Palmer into conversation.
"You want to give me one good reason why you defied my direct order to do the experimental face transplant on Mrs. Biehl?" He asked.
I frowned, glancing at Beth who was looking wide-eyed now. The walls started to feel as if they were closing in on me. "Uh…one reason?" I asked, and the doctor nodded.
"Uh, sure," I replied, looking down. White tennis shoes. I saw red, looking up at him and then launching myself. I slammed the doctor up against the wall, my forearm to his throat as I pinned him. "You're not Dr. Sexy," I accused.
"Dean!" Beth's voice startled next to us.
"You're crazy," Palmer replied.
"Really?" I asked. "Because I swore part of what makes Dr. Sexy sexy is the fact that he wears cowboy boots. Not tennis shoes."
Beth looked down, then back up at the man I was holding in place. "That's true!" She confirmed.
"Yeah. You guys aren't a fans," Sam sniggered.
I shrugged at Beth, a smile tugging at my mouth. "It's a guilty pleasure."
"Call security!" Palmer called out to a passing intern.
"Yeah, go ahead, pal. See, we know who you are," I said. Suddenly all the people around us, including Dr Wang and the Security Guard, froze. Beth moved next to me, and I heard Sam slip behind me to check out one of the immobile people.
A shimmer happened around Dr Palmer, and suddenly he morphed into the cheeky faced, grinning persona of the Trickster we'd encountered years earlier before I went to Hell. "You guys are getting better!" He applauded.
"Get us the hell out of here," I demanded.
"Or what?"
Before I knew it, he'd twisted my arms around behind my back, spinning me to face Sam, and pulling hard on my wrist until I groaned in pain. "Don't say you have wooden stakes, big guy," he said from behind me.
"That was you on the police scanner, right? This is a trick," Beth said.
"Hello? Trickster. Come on! I heard you three yahoos were in town. How could I resist?" He asked with a laugh.
"Where the hell are we?" I said with a grimace.
"Like it? It's all homemade. My own sets…" he released me, pushing me into Sam, who stopped my movement and helped me rebalance. The Trickster moved to rap on the window as he spoke, then gestured to the frozen actors. "My own actors...call it my own little idiot box."
"How do we get out?" Beth queried.
"That, my dear, is the sixty-four-dollar question," he grinned back at her. Sam scowled, throwing his hand up in the air.
"Whatever. We just, we need to talk to you. We need your help," he said.
"Hm, let me guess. You muttonheads broke the world, and you want me to sweep up your mess?" The Trickster asked.
"Please. Just five minutes. Hear us out," Sam pleaded. I wasn't feeling so much like bargaining after all this.
"Sure," the Trickster said, looking as if he was thinking it over. 'Tell you what. Survive the next twenty-four hours, we'll talk."
"Survive what?" I asked.
"The game!"
"What game?" Beth asked.
"You're in it," he laughed, throwing his arms in the air.
"How do we play?" I questioned. There had to be rules, after all.
"You're playing it," he replied. I could feel my ire rising.
"What are the rules?" Beth asked.
He simply grinned, and then vanished.
"Oh, son of a bitch!" I cursed. This was not good. Not good at all. And now we had crazy egocentric doctors to deal with.
Beth's POV
It didn't take long for Dr Sexy's presence to be missed. A blonde doctor was running around now calling out for him as we stood in the middle of the corridor, trying to figure out just what the Trickster meant by game.
"Paging Dr Sexy," a voice over the intercom sounded. "Report to the ER."
"Oh, by the way," Dean said to Sam, "Talking with monsters? Hell of a plan!" He was scowling as he started to follow the blonde that was looking for Dr Sexy.
"Just, what do we do now?" Sam asked.
"You know what I'm doing?" Dean asked, looking up at the exit doors ahead of us. "Leaving."
Suddenly there was a brunette next to us in a white lab coat, taking a swing at Sam, who ducked out of the way of her fist. I realised quickly that I was looking at Dr Piccolo.
"Lady, what the hell?" Sam exclaimed as Dean stepped up next to me, his attention changing from the exit to the scene unfolding in front of us.
"She's got a real thing for him," he confided, crossing his arms and watching with a grin.
"Figures," I said, shrugging at Dean. "She likes the puppy dog looks."
"Guys?" Sam asked, looking from Piccolo to us. "Really?"
"You are a brilliant, brilliant…"
"Yeah," Sam cut her off. "A coward. You already said that." I sniggered and looked at Dean.
"She said that?"
"Oh yeah," Dean chuckled. "A brilliant, brilliant coward," he reiterated with dramatic effect.
"Look, I got news for you," Sam said to Piccolo, ignoring us. "I'm not a doctor."
"Don't say that!" Piccolo chided. "You are the finest cerebrovascular neurosurgeon I have ever met, and I have met plenty. So that girl died on your table. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anybody's fault. Sometimes people just die."
Dean and I needed popcorn. This was better than watching it on the screen. I looked from the desperate, sad face of Piccolo to Sam, who managed to frown and sigh at the same time.
"I have no idea what you're saying to me," he said futily.
"You're afraid. You're afraid to operate again," she said, reaching out and touching his arm.
"And he's afraid to love," I whispered into Dean's ear.
"And you're afraid to love!" Piccolo declared. Dean snorted as Sam's face turned to disbelief. Piccolo started to sob heavily, pushing past Sam and running down the corridor, her hands covering her face.
"Oh yeah, she got it bad," I nodded. "Sam, you broke her heart."
Sam gave me a pained look. "Yeah, we're getting out of here,' he announced.
We started to walk toward the door, intent on getting out and back to the car when someone called out behind us. "Hey, doctor!"
Dean stopped and turned around, curious as a man rushed toward us. "Yeah?"
"My wife needs that face transplant," the man said, coming to a stop in front of us.
"Later," Dean said. "I got other things to deal with."
"No! She needs it now, doctor!"
"Hey, come on, the doctor said he's busy," I stepped in, putting a hand on the man's arm. He reacted, pulling his arm back and then shoving me toward the wall. This got an audible growl from Dean, who scowled and stepped over to take my arm as I regained my balance.
"You know what, pal? None of this is real, and your wife doesn't need jack squat. Okay?" Dean said, and he turned, taking my elbow in his hand and pulling me with him.
"Hey, Doctor!" The man yelled and I looked over my shoulder, just in time to see a gun go off.
"Dean!" I called out, seeing his face turn white, while an ooze of red spread across his back and he fell to his knees.
"Real…" Dean muttered, looking over at me. "It's real…."
"Sammy!" I cried out, panicked.
"No no no, no no no no no—hey! We need a doctor!" Sam called out, his hand on Dean's shoulder as he looked up frantically.
Operating Room
Dr. Sexy TV Land
Beth's POV
I was staring at the bare back of Dean, bloody and tattered while I held a cloth to it, and he lay face down on the operating table, reassuring me that it would be all right.
"Shouldn't he be under anesthesia?" I asked Sam, looking at him as he was assisted into latex gloves, a look of pure horror on his face. We were all dressed in the usual operating attire of white scrubs, head bandanas and masks. I looked over at the observation window, and Piccolo was there, looking at Sam encouragingly.
"BP is eighty over fifty and dropping," a blonde doctor announced as alarms on equipment started going off everywhere, even though Dean didn't appear to be hooked up to anything.
"Doctor," Wang said, looking at Sam and holding out a scalpel. Sam looked at it, frowning.
"What?"
Wang and the blonde exchanged a perplexed look, and once again the scalpel was offered to Sam. I scowled at him as Dean asked what was going on.
"Sam, do something! Come on!"
Sam leaned over Dean to speak quietly in my ear. "I don't know how to use any of this crap."
I sighed. "Figure it out, Dean might actually die from this!"
Sam leaned back, smiling awkwardly at Wang and the blonde, but still hesitating to act.
"Sam!" I urged. "It's just a bullet wound," I pointed out.
"Okay," he said, nodding to himself. "Um. I need a penknife, some dental floss, a sewing needle, and a fifth of whiskey." My eyes bulged open in disbelief as the doctors around us looked at him and then each other. Sam, seeing that they weren't moving, frowned and called out, "stat!"
This sent everyone into motion. Before I knew it, there was a mostly empty bottle of Kentucky Bourbon - which I guessed I'd mostly drunk - on the table next to us, and Sam's gloved and bloody hands were stitching up Dean's back. Once we'd started to act, things seemed to fall into place. After all, we'd been patching each other up for decades, how was this any different? There was a part of me wishing we had Cole here to do the medical stuff, the other part was glad she wasn't messed up in it.
"We okay? How's it looking?" Dean's muffled voice sounded from under the operating table.
"Yep," I said with a squeeze of his hand. "You'll be fine."
I looked up to see Sam watching Piccolo through the observation window, and as I followed his gaze she mouthed 'I love you', sighing with a happy smile.
"Oh good lord…" I muttered, shaking my head.
Dean's POV
One second I was on the operating table, the next we were on the stage of some bizarre game show. I looked over at Sam, opposite me as a Japanese man, along with Beth in a sequined red dress, came walking out from two sliding doors. Her hair was piled on her head, and she seemed to be struggling to walk in the high heels that she was wearing.
The man said something into the microphone he was carrying, laughing into the crowd, and then announced. "Let's play Nutcracker!"
What the hell was going on? One minute we were on the set of Dr Sexy and now we were in a game show? This Trickster was really starting to get my goat. The audience started to cheer and clap as I attempted to step away from my station. I pulled at my foot, and then looked down. My shoes were glued to the platform, and when I glanced over at Sam, I could see he was in the same position as me.
The host said something in Japanese to the crowd, and they fell silent, looking expectantly as the guy pulled a card out of his jacket.
"Sam Winchester," he said in a strong Japanese accent, continuing to speak in Japanese. When he finished his question, he looked expectantly at Sam for an answer, announcing "countdown" as the clock behind us started to tick down from twenty seconds. Sam spluttered, glancing around in confusion.
"What?" He asked. "Uh, what am I supposed to say?"
"You think I know?" I snorted. "Beth?"
Beth was shaking her head, looking at the clock. "I never learned Japanese…."
Sam turned to the host, smiling. "Uh, I, I don't, I don't understand Japanese."
The host smiled back at him, then repeated what he had said, again in Japanese.
"Is he screwing with me?" Sam asked, perplexed. "I, I, I can't speak Japanese." The clock hit zero, and a loud buzz sounded. The host said something in Japanese, and then looked to the crowd.
"The answer is...Ruby!"
Ruby? What the Hell?
"I'm sorry, Sam Winchester," the host apologised.
"Sorry? Sir? For what?" Sam asked. The host sniggered, holding a hand to his mouth as suddenly a pole shot out of the floor between Sam's legs, a ball hitting him right in the crotch.
"Oh! No!" I exclaimed, grimacing as Sam's eyes glazed over and he grabbed at his crown jewels. "That just ain't right," I muttered while the audience erupted into laughter and cheers.
"Nutcracker!" The host called out.
"Sam?" Beth asked, looking at our brother, who made a very inarticulate groan in response. A woman's voice sounded in Japanese, and the host walked over to Beth, handing her a bag of chips. He turned to the camera, smiling and against speaking in Japanese.
Beth faked a smile, holding the chips up like she was on the Home Shopping Network, and I looked over at Sam. "You okay?" Sam scowled at me, and I eyed off my own platform warily. The host was now looking expectantly at Beth, whose eyes widened when he stopped talking.
"Oh, uh…." She shook the chips around and then smiled. "Please buy them!"
The lights on the doors behind us started to flash and smoke as the host turned back to us. "Oh now what?" I asked.
Sliding open, I was surprised to see a familiar face behind the metal doors.
"Cas?" Beth asked, surprised. He stepped on to the walkway, his face set in a scowl, trenchcoat billowing behind him. The crowd roared in excitement.
"Is this another trick?" Sam asked.
"It's me," Cas replied. "Uh, what are you doing here?" He asked, looking around at the set.
"Us?" I asked. "What are you doing here?"
"Looking for you. You've been missing for days," Cas replied. Beth hurried on to the stage beside the two of us, grabbing my hand and squeezing hard.
"So get us the hell out of here, then!" She said.
Cas nodded. "Let's go." Within seconds he reached out, and touched his fingers to both Sam's and my foreheads. There was a burst of electricity and some sparks of light before the angel disappeared completely.
"Cas?" I asked.
"No, no, no, no. Mr. Trickster does not like pretty-boy angels," the Host announced, coming back on stage and pulling out another card. I found myself gripping Beth's hand back, as he turned to me.
"Dean Winchester…" He continued to read off a question in Japanese, that I had no answer to.
The screen behind us ominously started to tick down from twenty again.
"What do I do, what do I do?" I asked, panicked, looking from Beth to Sam.
"What?" Sam asked.
"I don't wanna get hit in the nuts!"
"I don't know," Beth said, shaking her head, looking a little sick herself. "I...I… uh, just… uh wait!"
"What?!" Both Sam and I exclaimed.
"Sam played a doctor," she said, looking at him.
"What?"
"In, uh, in Dr. Sexy he played a doctor. he operated," she said. Sam was starting to nod, clearly getting something I wasn't.
"So?" I asked.
"So I played the role the Trickster wanted me to play. Maybe we should just go along with it," he suggested.
"Go along with what?"
"With the game!" Beth said. "You know, we're on a game show, right? So just answer the question!"
"In Japanese?" I questioned. I could swear this was getting more ludicrous as the seconds ticked down.
"Yeah!" Sam said.
"But I don't know Japanese!"
"Just try," Beth urged.
I really didn't want to get hit in the nuts. That just wasn't right. "Dammit!" I cursed, looking up as the countdown got down to single digits. I hit the button in front of me and the clock froze just before the buzz.
I said the first thing that came to mind. Japanese and all. The host looked at me, repeating what I'd said. I nodded, saying it again, this time with conviction. Beth looked unconvinced, the grip on my hand telling me that she was starting to freak out because there was no way out of this.
The host turned to the crowd and yelled something out in Japanese. I looked down at the platform with a grimace, bracing myself for the pain.
"Dean Winchester, Nutcracker champion!" The host announced to the cheers of the crowd.
Sam and Beth looked on incredulously. "How did you do that?" He asked.
"I have no idea," I replied, the relief flooding through me just the same.
"So that's it," Beth said with a sigh of relief. "We play our roles, we survive."
"Yeah, but play our roles for how long?" I asked.
"Good question," Sam said as we all turned to the crowd and smiled, waving as the applause thundered on.
BASKETBALL COURT
Dean's POV
We were in some sort of commercial. Sam and I were playing a bit of two-on-two against Beth and another very attractive, athletic girl. Beth scored and high-fived the girl while Sam turned around to look into the distance, a pained expression on his face.
"Seriously?" He asked after a moment. I stopped bouncing the ball and jogged over to him.
"Hey, you're the one who said play our roles," I said, somewhere internally I knew we were in a commercial for medical relief. A particular type of relief.
"Yeah," Sam sighed. "Right." I grinned, turning to eye off Beth and the other girl who were waving us over. I clapped Sam on the shoulder and then ran off to join them.
"I've got genital herpes," Sam said to the imaginary camera. I was already snickering by the time his next line came around. "But now I take twice-daily Herpexia to reduce my chances of passing it on."
Beth was standing by the side, reading from a script when I reached them. "Patients should always consult with a physician before using Herpexia. Possible side effects include headache, diarrhea, permanent erectile dysfunction, thoughts of suicide, and nausea."
I gestured to her questioningly, and she shrugged, replied, "voiceover." Ahhhh. I chuckled, looking back at Sam.
"I am doing all I can to slightly lessen the spread of—of genital herpes. And that's a good thing." With a smile, he turned, jogging back to us with a scowl on his face as I tossed the ball at the ring, getting a perfect 3-points.
FULL HOUSE
Beth's POV
I'd lost track of how many different takes we'd had in this crazy world of the Trickster. We were no closer to escaping the madness when we landed in one of the shows I'd spent my childhood watching. There was a themesong playing over unseen speakers as we all played our roles.
Town to town, two-land roads, family biz, that's how hunting goes
From my position, I could see Sam and Dean playing out their intro part, backing into each other and startling … completely unlike us at all. They burst out laughing and I shook my head in amusement.
Living a lie just to get by
I watched Sam open a cabinet. A ghost in a white sheet attempted to scare him, he shut the door and pushed his back against it, looking frightened.
As long as we're moving forward.
The scene had changed to the Impala. Dean was under the hood, working on changing spark plugs. He wiped his forehead, smearing grease across it, and Sam pointed and laughed. Dean looked at his hand and laughed back.
Once more the scene changed. I was jogging along at park pathway now, listening to music with my earphones on. Suddenly from out of the bushes, a man leapt out, scaring me half to death. I reacted, grabbing him and flipping before I realised who it was. From flat on his back, Dean looked up at me, a little chagrined and then laughed. I growled at him, then helped him up, moaning softly as he took my face in his hands and kissed me tenderly.
"This is getting out of control," I whispered to him as we broke apart with a loving expression.
"I know…" he whispered back
There's nothing we can't do, together we'll face the day
Another park scene. This time I was on a tandem bicycle with Dean, and he laughed, pedalling away. Sam was on a regular bike next to us, chatting happily as we all pretended like this was the most normal thing in the world when we'd never done this in our lives.
You and I won't run away
When the demons come out to play
Sam threw a football at Dean who caught it, and then bounced it on the ground. I laughed wildly and tackled him out of left field, falling to the ground on top of him with a grunt. Sam joined us, falling in a heap, and we all laughed happily, flopping back onto the ground.
The final scene was the three of us standing around in a motel, holding half-eaten burgers. We clinked our beer bottles together and turned to grin at the non-existent camera that we somehow instinctively knew we had to perform for.
Together we'll face the day
CLOUD CITY
Carbon-Freezing Chamber
BETH's POV
Dean was standing beside me in restraints, wearing what looked like a Han Solo outfit. My suspicions were confirmed when Lando spoke to him.
"You're being put into carbon freeze."
Dean paused, looking at me with a slightly excited look. "Do you know who that is?"
"Dean, I don't think this is very funny…" I commented, for the first time looking sideways and seeing Sam in a hairy suit.
"That's Lando Calrissian!" Dean continued, earning a strange look from Lando.
"Put him in!" Vader shouted across the room, and then Sam was swinging his arms around in protest, fighting the security officers.
"This is unbelievable!" Dean said.
"Aren't you supposed to stop him?" I asked, looking as Sam continued to wail and throw people three feet in the air until they hit walls.
"Oh yeah…" Dean said, moving after him. "Sam! I mean Chewie! Stop Chewie! Do you hear me? Stop!"
Sam hesitated, turning upset eyes to look at Dean.
"This won't help me…" Dean continued, looking for the first time at the carbon-freezing chamber.
"I don't like this," I said, walking up to them both.
"Sam, you have to look after Beth," Dean cautioned us both. "I'm serious, there will be another time."
Sam howled at him, and I looked up at Dean. "I don't like this." Dean leaned down and kissed me, brief by our standards, but as he was pulled away, he looked a little worried.
"Play our parts, remember?" Dean asked, glancing back at the machine, as the guards started to pull him to the chamber.
I would have known this scene by heart. Han and Leia were one of my favourite on-screen couples. I watched as Dean was secured in the freeze chamber.
"I love you," I said finally, the irony sitting heavy on my chest. What he was about to reply, was what he normally said to me - Star Wars or not.
"I know," he smiled at me, and then he was dropped into the chamber.
MOTEL ROOM
Dean's POV
I fell from Star Wars into a freaky motel room in bright, cheerful 60s colours and furnishings.
Looking around, the room was set up for some comedic relief. I sucked in a deep breath, not liking the theme some of these skits were taking. What the Hell?
In my hand was mayonnaise, and as I had a hand on the fridge, I returned it, closing the door and turning back to the table. I grinned. Adorning the middle of the table was the biggest sandwich I had ever seen.
"I'm gonna need a bigger mouth," I grinned, and there was another laugh track that sounded. The door opened, and Sam entered to much applause.
"Hey there, Sam," I said with a smile. "What's happening?"
"Oh, nothing. Um. Just the end of the world," Sam said with a shrug. Again, the laugh track as Sam's eyes fell to the sandwich.
"You're gonna need a bigger mouth," he said as the room erupted into more laughter.
"Hey, uh, have you done your research yet?" Sam asked. I hesitated, playing the 'busted' roll well as I looked at him guiltily.
"Oh, yeah," I said with a nod. "All kinds of research. All night."
"Yeah?" Sam asked as I glanced toward the bathroom. "Hm."
The door opened, and Beth walked into the room wearing a french maid outfit. No laughter this time. The track was one of wolf whistles as Beth blushed, pulling the hem down at the back.
"I think I liked the Leia outfit better…" she commented. There was deathly silence from the audience and so she rolled her eyes, looking at our brother.
"Oh, hi Sam, what are you doing here?" She asked.
"I'm here to find out about the research," he replied. Beth looked at me, sharing an amused shrug and then smiled.
"Oh, well… we got a little distracted," she said, sauntering over to the oven in the little kitchenette. She reached down, baring her behind to the audience - more wolf whistles - before pulling out a tray. "But… there's pie!" She announced, turning to display a freshly baked apple pie.
"Pie?" I asked, looking shocked. "Am I the luckiest man on the planet or what?"
There was an awwwwwww track that played, and Sam chuckled, nodding. "Well… Beth your pie is the best." Applause. "But I still need that research."
I couldn't decide what I wanted to get into first. There was the sandwich, the pie… and then Beth… in a French Maid uniform. I cleared my throat, grinning at her. "Well uh, we're gonna need more time, Sammy. We still have more… research to do."
Sam folded his arms, sighing. "Guys…" Another laugh track.
I scowled, playing the part of nagged brother. "Son of a bitch!"
Sam moved over to Beth, glaring over his shoulder at my comment. "Uh, I am really, really very sorry, but uh, we don't have time for pie," he said.
My face sunk. "What?!"
Beth looked at him sadly. "But Sam, it's my best pie. And we did work!" She glanced at me, her eyes running the length of my body. "...out..." Another laugh track sounded and I couldn't help but smile.
"Beth…" Sam chided.
"Oh fine!" Beth sighed, moving to drop the entire tray, pie and all, into the bin. I looked on horrified. Sam nodded with satisfaction, and I forced a smile as the audience laughed at my expression.
"How long do we have to keep doing this?" I asked through clenched teeth.
"I don't know," Sam replied to a round of applause. "Maybe forever?" More laughter.
"We might die in here," Beth said, moving to stand next to me as the audience found the thought of our imminent demise amusing.
"How was that funny?" Dean asked, scowling. "Vultures."
The door opened, and without warning Castiel walked in, looking like he'd been beat up. There was a round of loud applause.
"Cas!" Beth exclaimed, rushing to his side. "Are you okay?"
"I don't have much time," Cas answered.
"What happened?" Beth asked.
"I got out," Cas replied.
"From where?" I asked.
"Listen to me," Cas said, ignoring the questions. "Something is not right. This thing is much more powerful than it should be." I stopped, thinking about it.
"What thing? The Trickster?" I asked.
"If it is a trickster," Cas replied.
"What do you mean?" Beth asked. Cas didn't have a chance to reply as he was suddenly flung backwards into a wall. The Trickster appeared for the first time in I couldn't recall how long.
"Hello!" He said cheerfully amidst many cheers and applause. Castiel got up from where he'd fallen, but his mouth was suddenly duct-taped shut.
"Thank you. Thank you, ladies," the Trickster said with a slight bow, playing up to the imaginary audience. Cas glared at him, and he turned to smile at the beleaguered angel. "Hi, Castiel!"
With a gesture, Castiel vanished in a burst of static lighting.
"You know him?" Beth asked, pointing to where Cas had been standing.
"Where did you just send him?" I demanded to know. Trickster just chuckled, waving his hand dismissively.
"Relax, he'll live. ...Maybe." More laughter.
"All right, you know what? I am done with the monkey dance, okay? We get it," I said.
"Yeah? Get what, hotshot?"
"Playing our roles, right? That's your game?" I asked. It was pretty clear by now what he wanted from us.
"That's half the game," he answered with a nod.
"What's the other half?" Beth asked.
"Play your roles out there," he said.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I queried. Now, I didn't like the sound of that.
"Oh, you know. Sam starring as Lucifer. Dean starring as Michael. Your celebrity death match. Play your roles." Nope, didn't like it at all. I was pretty sure Beth and Sam were going to have something to say too.
"You want us to say yes to those sons of bitches?" Sam asked, right on cue.
"Hells yeah. Let's light this candle!"
"We do that, the world will end," Beth chimed in. She'd moved to stand next to me, and I slipped an arm around her waist.
"Yeah? And whose fault is that?" The Trickster asked with a shrug. "Who popped Lucifer out of the box? Hm? Look, it's started. You started it. It can't be stopped. So let's get it over with!"
Sam glared at him. I had more questions. "Heaven or Hell, which side you on?"
"I'm not on either side," he declared.
"Yeah, right," I scoffed. "You're grabbing ankle for Michael or Lucifer. Which one is it?"
"You listen to me, you arrogant dick. I don't work for either of those S.O.B.s. Believe me," he snapped in reply.
"Oh, you're somebody's bitch," I said confidently. I was getting to him. And when I got to people, they started getting sloppy.
The Trickster's smile vanished, and next thing I knew I was slammed against the wall, with his hand around my throat.
"Hey!" Beth shouted. "Let him go!" She ran up alongside us as the Trickster fumed, looking into my eyes.
"Don't you ever, ever presume to know what I am," he snarled at me, his eyes flashing with fury. "Now listen very closely. Here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna suck it up, accept your responsibilities, and play the roles that destiny has chosen for you." He glanced at Beth who was standing beside us. "You too."
"Me? What role is mine other than to end up a widow?" She asked.
"That's still coming," he announced.
"What a load of…" bullshit I had been about to say.
"No," Beth interrupted. "No we're not doing it. They're not doing it."
"And you, you need to learn to let this one go - talk about psycho clingy wife," the Trickster retorted. Beth snapped, throwing a punch and landing it square against his jaw. It didn't do much, though he did lessen his grip while Sam grabbed Beth, holding her back.
"Shut up!" Beth yelled at him. "You know what, you don't know jack…"
"And if we don't?" Sam cut in, silencing Beth's rant. The Trickster grinned.
"Then you'll stay here in TV Land. Forever. Three hundred channels and, uh, nothing's on." He stepped back from me and snapped his fingers, and suddenly the scene changed again.
CSI MIAMI
Dean's POV
This was ridiculous. No, scrap that. It was ludicrous.
I was stared at a crime scene, middle of the night, cop cars all over the place with lights flashing, and police tape cordoning off the area. A man with a stomach wound was the centre of the event, medical examiner was checking him out, cameras were flashing. Next to me, Sam was dressed in the same suit, matching blue shirt, and wearing sunglasses - like me.
"Oh, come on!" I complained as a police officer ducked under the crime scene tape and approached us.
"So, what do you think?" He asked.
"What do I think? I think go screw yourself, that's what I think," I replied. Sam stepped in between us, smiling at the cop.
"Uh, could you give us a sec, please? Thanks," he said, and the officer nodded and turned away.
"You gotta calm down," Sam said as soon as we were alone.
"Calm down?" I spluttered. "I am wearing sunglasses at night!" I yanked the damn things off my face. "You know who does that? No-talent douchebags." Sam nodded in agreement, but I noticed he didn't remove his glasses.
"I hate this game," I continued. "I hate that we're in a procedural cop show and you wanna know why? Because I hate procedural cop shows. There's like three hundred of them on television and they're all the freaking same. It's ooh, plane crashed here—oh shut up."
I stopped, watching as Beth walked up to us in a dark suit, her ID stating that she was the Medical Examiner.
"Here I am in supporting cast again," she said, shrugging.
I looked her over. Short skirt, sensible but still kind of sexy footwear. I would hit on it. "I'll take you over the lead role any day," I said, gesturing to Sam. Beth smirked and nodded toward the scene.
"Check out sweet tooth over there," she said. I followed her lead and noticed a cop, sucking on a lollipop.
"Think that's him?"
"Yep," she replied.
Sam pulled his glasses off, eyes fixing on the copy. "Just, um, follow my lead," he said, and started walking. I watched him for a moment and then shrugged at Beth who started to follow. Sam put on his glasses again as we reached the tape, I copied. Hell, if I was gonna do this, I might as well look good doing it. Beth sniggered as the tape was raised for us, and we stepped into the crime scene.
"You, uh, you okay?" The officer said as we reached the body.
"Yeah," I replied in a deep voice. "What do we got?"
"Well, aside from the ligature marks around his neck, he has what appears to be a roll of quarters jammed down his throat," was the reply.
I took off my sunglasses, and crouched down with a flashlight to take a closer look.
"Well I say, jackpot," Sam said, taking off his glasses. The Officer looked up, snorting in amusement.
"Also, there is a stab wound to the lower abdomen," said the Trickster, pointing to the bloodstained top with his lollipop. I leaned down to poke at the wound with a stick, drawing a chuckle from the cop. Beth was slowly walking around the scene, watching. I stood up, put my sunglasses back on and grinned.
"Well I say, no guts, no glory," I punned at him. The guy laughed, actually laughed, and Sam continued the amusing banter. Putting his sunglasses back on too, Sam pointed at the corpse.
"Get that guy a TUMS," he chuckled.
"Gutter ball," I added. The cop kept laughing.
"Good one guys," he snorted out. I nodded at Sam, and then moved behind the cop as he continued to laugh. As I moved, he did too, turning to face me. I took the stick I'd picked up off the ground and rammed it through his chest, right into his beating heart. With a splutter, he collapsed, struggling to breathe.
No one noticed, or at least seemed to care, except one. This was the moment we'd been waiting for. No more tricks. As another cop stepped up to us, laughing, he morphed into the Trickster before our very eyes.
"You've got the wrong guy, idiots," he said. I looked over his shoulder, and then locked eyes with him.
"Did we?" I asked, watching as Beth moved in behind him, stake in hand, and stabbed the guy with it. He fell over in a burst of static.
Suddenly we were standing back in the Warehouse we'd first entered, the Trickster on the ground at our feet. Beth nudged him with the toe of her boot, and I realised we were back in to the clothes we'd been wearing when we first went after the Trickster. It was over.
"It's always the ones you least expect…." Beth commented before tossing me a grin.
The Next Day
MOTEL ROOM
Dean's POV
It had been a great night. Finally I felt like I'd had a decent night's sleep. I finished brushing my teeth and then spat out the toothpaste, before leaning down to drink out of the tap, gargle and spit again.
"I'm worried, guys. What that SOB did to Cas. You know, where is he?" I called out behind me into the main room. I was greeted with silence.
"Sam?" I pulled on my tshirt and poked my head into the room. "Beth? Where are you?"
That didn't seem right. I picked up my phone off the nightstand, tucking my gun into the back of my pants, and then dialed Beth, walking out the door. As I hit the car park, I heard her ridiculous ringtone Fireflies … some recent song she'd heard on the radio and said it picked up her mood.
"Hey!" I called out, seeing her weaving through two cars carrying donuts and coffee. "Where's Sam?"
"Isn't he with you?"
"No," I muttered, shaking my head. I looked down at my phone and dialled Sam, inclining my head to the car where Beth put the donuts on the hood, and handed me a large coffee.
"It's Sam. Leave me a message.."
"Sam. It's me. Where the hell did you go?" I said to his voicemail, snapping my phone shut.
"Dean?" A robotic voice sounded, and I stood up, looking around.
"Did you hear that?"
"Yeah," Beth confirmed, walking around the other side of the car and looking in the window.
"Sam? Where are you?" She asked as I popped the trunk to make sure he wasn't locked in there for some weird reason.
"I don't know," Sam's hollow sounding voice sounded again. As I closed the trunk, I saw red lights flash on the dash of the car through the back window.
"Crap," I muttered, moving to confirm what Beth was already seeing. There was a Knight Rider get up going on inside Baby, and it was flashing in time with Sam's words.
"I don't think we killed the Trickster," Beth said with a grimace.
"What the hell is going on here?" I asked.
Beth's POV
Next thing we knew we were driving. To the Knight Rider theme song. The Impala had gained red, flashing lights under the front grill too. Dean was not impressed.
"Okay, stake didn't work. So, what, this is another trick?" Dean asked as he steered the car down the road.
"I don't know. Maybe the stake didn't work because it's not a trickster?" Sam asked, the red lights flashing as he talked. I had to admit, this was new, talking to a car.
"What do you mean?" Dean asked.
"You heard Cas. He said this thing was too powerful to be a trickster," Sam continued. I was nodding, thinking back over the interaction that had occurred during the Nutcracker.
"And did you notice the way he looked at Cas? Almost like he knew him," I pointed out.
"And how pissed he got when you brought up Michael and Lucifer," Sam added.
"Dammit!" I exclaimed. It was starting to fall into place.
"What?" Sam and Dean asked in unison.
"I think I know what we're dealing with. I can't believe I didn't think of this sooner," I said, smacking my forehead in frustration. Suddenly it all made sense.
A short while later we'd stopped outside of town where there wasn't any people around. I was rummaging through the trunk of the car, looking for the supplies we'd stocked from months ago.
"Beth?" Sam's metallic voice sounded.
"Yeah?"
"That, uh, feels really uncomfortable," he finished. I stood up, grabbing a zippo from the truck and Dean shut it behind me.
"Ow!" Sam exlaimed. "You sure this is gonna work?"
"No," I said, looking around. "But I have no other ideas."
Dean moved around the front of the car, shouting up at the sky. "All right, you son of a bitch! Uncle! We'll do it!"
"Should I honk?" Sam asked, making me smile.
It wouldn't be necessary. The Trickster appeared suddenly, and took in the Impala/Sam. "Wow. Sam. Get a load of the rims on you."
"Eat me," Sam replied with a flash of red lights.
"Okay, boys. Ready to go quietly?" The blonde haired mischievous man asked.
"Whoa whoa whoa, not so fast. Nobody's going anywhere until Sam has opposable thumbs," Dean said, pointing at the car. I started to casually wander around the back of the Trickster.
"What's the difference?" The Trickster asked, stepping toward Dean a little. "Satan's going to ride his ass one way or another."
Dean gave him the death stare, and with a roll of his eyes, the man snapped his fingers. The KITT lights on the Impala disappeared, and Sam climbed out of the front seat.
"Happy?" The Trickster asked Dean.
"Tell me one thing. Why didn't the stake kill you?" Dean asked, stalling for time as I brushed past the Trickster, causing him to take that one final step forward…
"I am the Trickster," he said.
"Or, maybe you're not," I said, seizing the moment. I flipped the zippo open and dropped the flaming lighter on to the oil at our feet. I stepped back as a ring of fire sprung up around the man. "Maybe you've always been an angel.'
The man laughed, and shook his head. "A what? Somebody slip a mickey in your power shake, kid?"
Dean crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "I'll tell you what. You just jump out of the holy fire and we'll call it our mistake."
The man laughed again, but then stopped. He was caught, and he knew it.
Present Day
WAREHOUSE
Wellington, Ohio
Beth's POV
"Well played, kids," the angel said finally, as the make believe world of Knight Rider faded around us into the Warehouse we'd been in earlier. "Well played. Where'd you get the holy oil?"
"Well, you might say we pulled it out of Sam's ass," Dean snickered.
"Where'd I screw up?" He asked, looking at me.
"You didn't. Nobody gets the jump on Cas like you did," Dean replied.
"Mostly it was the way you talked about Armageddon," I added.
"Meaning?"
"Well, call it personal experience, but nobody gets that angry unless they're talking about their own family," Dean said with a shrug.
"So which one are you?" Sam asked. "Grumpy, Sneezy, or Douchey?"
The angel sighed, looking at all three of us, and then shrugged. "Gabriel, okay?" He said. "They call me Gabriel."
I was floored. It couldn't be. "Gabriel?" I asked. "The archangel?"
"Guilty," he confessed with a nod.
"Okay, Gabriel. How does an archangel become a trickster?" Dean asked.
"My own private witness protection," he said. "I skipped out of Heaven, had a face transplant, carved out my own little corner of the world. Till you two screwed it all up."
I didn't even know where to start with the questions. Gabriel had been one of God's messengers, important, and so to find him here… pretending to be a Trickster… that was big.
"What did Daddy say when you ran off and joined the pagans?" Dean asked.
"Daddy doesn't say anything about anything," Gabriel replied with a sneer.
"Then what happened? Why'd you ditch?" Sam asked.
"Do you blame him? I mean, his brothers are heavyweight douchenozzles," Dean cut in. This was more than Gabriel could take.
"Shut your cakehole! You don't know anything about my family. I love my father, my brothers, sisters. Love them. But watching them turn on each other? Tear at each other's throats? I couldn't bear it! Okay? So I left. And now it's happening all over again."
"Then help us stop it," I said, stepping closer. Maybe Sam had been right all along. Maybe this was the ally we were looking for.
Gabriel looked sadly at me, shaking his head. "It can't be stopped."
"You wanna see the end of the world?" Dean pressed.
"I want it to be over!" Gabriel snapped. "I have to sit back and watch my own brothers kill each other thanks to you two! Heaven, Hell, I don't care who wins, I just want it to be over."
"It doesn't have to be like that. There has to be some way to, to pull the plug," Sam, ever the one to be looking for alternatives, said.
Gabriel laughed, this time it was with a slightly hysterical tone to it.
"You do not know my family. What you guys call the apocalypse, I used to call Sunday dinner. That's why there's no stopping this, because this isn't about a war. It's about two brothers that loved each other and betrayed each other. You'd think you'd be able to relate."
"What are you talking about?" Sam asked.
"You sorry sons of bitches. Why do you think you two are the vessels? Think about it. Michael, the big brother, loyal to an absent father, and Lucifer, the little brother, rebellious of Daddy's plan. You were born to this, boys. It's your destiny! It was always you! As it is in Heaven, so it must be on earth. One brother has to kill the other." Gabriel shook his head as if he was pointing out the obvious to us and we just weren't getting it.
"What the hell are you saying?" Dean queried.
"Why do you think I've always taken such an interest in you? Because from the moment Dad flipped on the lights around here, we knew it was all gonna end with you. Always."
Always? I bit my lip, thinking about that whole destiny thing. Everyone paused, thinking it over. Sam and Dean looked down at their feet, then up at each other.
"No," Dean said, shaking his head. "That's not gonna happen."
"I'm sorry. But it is," Gabriel replied.
"You're wrong," I finally managed to spit out.
Gabriel sighed, looking around at all of us. "Guys. I wish this were a TV show. Easy answers, endings wrapped up in a bow...but this is real, and it's gonna end bloody for all of us. That's just how it's gotta be."
WAREHOUSE
Wellington, Ohio
Dean's POV
"So. Now what?" Gabriel asked. "We stare at each other for the rest of eternity?"
"Well, first of all, you're gonna bring Cas back from wherever you stashed him," I said, circling around to slide my arm around Beth, who was looking a little green around the gills. She never did seem to do well when we started imprisoning angels.
"Oh am I?" Gabriel smirked.
"Yeah," I said, feeling Beth's hand grasp mine as it rested on her hip, and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Or we're going to dunk you in some holy oil and deep-fry ourselves an archangel."
Gabriel sighed and snapped his fingers, there was a whooshing sound and then Cas was standing next to us.
"Cas, you okay?" I asked, looking at him.
"I'm fine," Cas replied, looking at the angel trapped in the ring of holy fire. "Hello, Gabriel."
"Hey, bro," Gabriel grinned. "How's the search for Daddy going? Let me guess. Awful."
Castiel didn't reply, simply glaring with disdain at the angel.
"Okay, we're out of here. Come on, Beth, Sam," I said, pulling Beth with me as I turned toward the exit to the warehouse.
"Uh. Okay. Guys?" Gabriel called out as we all left together. "You're just gonna, you're gonna leave me here forever?"
As we reached the door I turned around.
"No. We're not, 'cause we don't screw with people the way you do. And for the record? This isn't about some prize fight between your brothers or some destiny that can't be stopped. This is about you being too afraid to stand up to your family." I yanked on the fire alarm next to me, and watched as Gabriel looked up and the sprinklers went off. "Don't say I never did anything for you."
Gabriel glared at us, but Beth was pulling on my hand, a forlorn look on her face. Cas hesitated, but then followed us too.
"All that stuff he was spouting in there, you think it was the truth?" I asked as we reached the Impala.
"I think he believes it," Sam replied, opening the back door.
"So what do we do?" I asked, leaning against the hood, looking from Beth, to Sam then Cas.
"I don't know," Sam replied.
"Well I'll tell you one thing. Right about now I wish I was back in a TV show," I said with a heavy sigh.
"Yeah, me too," Beth said softly. I thought about that. What I wouldn't give to be marooned on Gilligan's Island right now with the important people in my life. No monsters, demons, angels or in between. Just us, with simple stuff to worry about.
Later that Night
CHURCH
Wellington, Ohio
Beth's POV
Something in me was a little surprised to see Gabriel appear as I finished up my prayers. I sat back in the pew and looked over the pretty redhead that was with him.
"You remember Sariel?" Gabriel asked, and I nodded.
"It's good to see you Beth," she said with a smile.
"I didn't know if you'd come," I stated plainly. It was the truth. I'd prayed to speak with him, but given the way we'd all parted, he had no reason to be particularly endeared to us.
"Beth, I've been watching over you guys so long…" Gabriel said softly, and I could see the gentleness inside of him.
"Why won't you help us then?"
"I'm an angel Beth, I have my role to play too," he answered.
"Which is?"
"It varies," Sariel replied. "For all of us."
"You could at least help Castiel find God," I countered, standing up and running a hand through my hair.
"We're going after something better, you just have to trust us," Sariel said, glancing across at Gabriel.
"Trust you?" I laughed. "I barely know you!"
"You know us better than you think," Gabriel replied. "But it doesn't matter, the deed is done, the path is chosen, the net is cast… Michael and Lucifer are going to destroy this world, like it or not."
"That's where we need you," Sariel cut in.
"Me?" I scoffed. "What can I do?"
Gabriel sighed, rolling his eyes at Sariel. "I didn't want it to be like this."
"What?" I asked, frowning a little at him.
Gabriel stood a little straighter and cleared his throat, and when he looked at me it send a shiver down my spine.
"Elizabeth Winchester… I hereby come before you bearing joyous news."
"Oh cut the crap," I snipped at him. Sariel chuckled, an odd thing for an angel to do, and Gabriel cursed, his shoulders slumping down and the hardness in his eyes fading.
"It's always easier with wings… they like the wings," he said to Sariel before turning to me. "You're not making this very regal like… I'm about to tell you something of grave importance."
"Then tell me, enough of this destiny nonsense," I said.
Gabriel scoffed, shaking his head. "You of all people should know about destiny, Beth. Your parents? Destiny. John and Patrick becoming friends? Destiny. John coming to your rescue as a teenager? Also destiny. You and Dean were always destined to be together… it is all part of the plan."
"Whose plan?"
"God's…" Sariel said.
"This is insane," I muttered, gathering my rosary and putting it around my neck before reaching for my jacket.
"You're going to have a child, Beth. Soon," Gabriel stated plainly. I paused, hand resting on the jacket and then straightened to look at him.
"Yeah, right."
"Do I look like some cherub sitting on a cloud? I am the voice and messenger! You will bear a child Beth, who is here to change the world."
"Get out," I said, my voice shaky as I fought to control my emotions. Angels were dicks, but coming at me from this angle was just … truly dickish. "You just got done telling me that I have to let Dean and Sam fulfill their roles and destroy the planet."
"Listen to him," Sariel said, pulling my gaze to her.
"Humanity will survive, in one way or another, and someone must lead them," Gabriel said.
"No…" I shook my head.
"That someone is your daughter, who will hear the will of God," Gabriel said.
I felt the blood drain from my face. "Suddenly I know how Mary felt…."
"She didn't talk back nearly so much," Gabriel muttered.
"I suppose she was more adept at playing her role too," I countered.
"There's something to be said for the pious," Gabriel agreed, nodding.
Pious? Had I not been pious enough? This was…. Too much.
"Well… I already know I have a daughter coming, eventually…" I said, crossing my arms.
"You didn't know of her importance," Sariel said quietly.
"I'm not going to raise my child to be a hunter," I said confidently. We'd come up with another plan, we'd talked about it, Dean and I. We didn't want our child to have the same life that Dean and Sam had growing up.
"She won't be a hunter, she's something else," Gabriel said.
"That's enough, Gabriel," Sariel cautioned. Now I was curious.
"No, I want to know," I said.
"Not all can be revealed at once, it's too much to comprehend," Sariel insisted. I scowled at them and Gabriel sighed at me.
"Go, make love to your husband," he said, "fight while you can Beth, but know this: destiny is calling and soon enough you're going to have to say goodbye to Dean and Sam."
AUTHOR'S NOTES
Song for this chapter is: Chances by Five for Fighting
Hope you enjoyed my take on this. It was a challenge to put into text, given the extremely visual aspect and changes of this episode. I hope I did it some justice.
The Star Wars scene just had to be added in. RIP & May the Force be with you, Carrie - Love you!
More of the Angel storyline will be coming now, as I get around to writing Gabriel and Sariel's story. Now that we've discovered Gabriel's true identity, I can start to weave Where Angels Fear to Tread in amongst the updates - I didn't want to get too far ahead on their story or it would add in spoilers for this one!
Thanks for reading, and as always, please leave a review as it makes me happy and encourages me to keep writing!
QUESTION!
Up next is the Supernatural Convention. With Beth! This is going to be fun :)
So, if you were at the convention during question time, what would you want to ask Chuck about Beth? Or Dean & Beth? Or anything to do with the Dean & Beth SPN world :)