Author's Note: Continued spoiler alert for The French Mistake. I still don't own these beautiful characters though.
Chapter inspiration: All Star by Smash Mouth
Chapter 10
The next morning dawned sunny. Dean was not thrilled when Sam had cheerily woken him up at 5, but bigger picture he supposed. Sam's cheery mood spanned the entire time they waited for Cliff and the car to show up, and through the drive to the airport. Dean found it weird, and searched his brain for an explanation. There was only one thing that he knew of that would turn a guy from grouchy, to downright peppy, in an instant.
"Dude, you totally got laid!" Dean accused, glaring at Sam.
"What?" Sam spluttered, choking on air. How had Dean figured it out?
"You're downright cheerful this morning." Dean quipped.
"So? I'm a morning person." Sam attempted to deflect.
"No, that's not it. You're different this morning." Dean leaned over to closely examine Sam. He knew he was right, and he knew this would embarrass the modest Winchester.
"Dude, stop looking at me like that." Sam complained.
"Like what?" Dean asked innocently, sitting upright in his own seat once again.
"Like, like I'm a freak." Sam accused, using his go-to adjective.
"I can't help it if you got your freak on last night." Dean sat back smugly, he was waiting for Sam to crack.
He saw Cliff's shoulders shaking silently as he drove. Dean figured the guy was getting a kick out of their antics. And why wouldn't he, for that matter. He always knew he was funny, no matter what Sam said to the contrary.
"De-Jensen…" Sam warned, he was close to cracking.
"Yes, Jared?" Dean replied, batting his eyelashes at his brother in a mocking way.
"Fine, would it make you feel better if I told you, that Genevieve and I had sex?" Sam cracked under his brother's ridiculous mocking.
"Genevieve?" Dean questioned. It was the first time he'd heard fake Ruby's real name.
"Yes, Genevieve. Are you done now?" Sam asked, feeling entirely uncomfortable with the topic of conversation.
The sight of a plane waiting on an airstrip, was the answer to Sam's prayers. He quickly hopped out of the car, and walked to where the plane was sitting, side door open. While Sam talked to the crew, Cliff turned to Dean, who was still sitting in the backseat.
"Sorry to pry, but uh, why are we picking up packages at 8 a. m. that haven't cleared customs yet?" Cliff asked. Luckily for his charges, they weren't due to set now until 9, call time having been pushed back from 7.
"Just saving time." Dean replied smoothly. Just then, Sam returned to the car, box in hand. "All right, here we go."
"Not doing anything illegal, are we?" Cliff asked both boys, turning around in his seat to look at them.
"Would it make you feel better if we said no?" Sam asked back.
"No." Cliff said, turning around in his seat once again. The car engine fired, and Cliff drove the Winchesters to the studio where the set was located.
When they got there, nobody was around, lights were off, and both brothers assumed they were home free. Unfortunately for them, that wouldn't be the case today. Just as they were cutting the tape on the packaging, and grabbing the bowl to mix the ingredients, the lights snapped on and the big guy from the day before, the one with the annoyingly high voice, was talking. They heard voices and footsteps get closer as they tried making sense of what was going on. Before an answer presented itself, a number of members from the crew came around the corner.
"What is this? Here for the first run through before anyone else? Dedication!" The big guy praised the Winchesters.
"Can I talk to you for a second." Dean said to the guy. Walking up so he was closer to him, he said: "Um, we're going to need the set cleared. For say, safe side, an hour or so."
"You need it cleared?" The big guy questioned, his brows pulled down into a frown.
"Yeah, yeah, me and um, Jared, we're going to do some actor stuff." Dean said, giving the guy a look that screamed 'please understand what I'm talking about, and give us the set to ourselves.'
"Jensen, we're thrilled to see you collaborating so creatively, and your enthusiasm is refreshing. You know, Dean Cain was like that on Lois, and that man's a real actor. And we will clear this set exactly when we shoot the 2 and 3 days pages we're scheduled to shoot on this set. So, you do your actors stuff, and we'll do our camera stuff." The man said, shooting down Dean's hope of getting back home anytime soon.
He spotted Sam sitting in some chairs off to the side, and went off to tell him what was going on for the day. "Uh, so, bad news; looks like we're going to have to do a little acting." He told him nervously.
"What?" Sam asked, scared.
Dean saw Misha, or fake Castiel sitting in a chair looking over a script, and another empty chair next to him. No one was sitting in it, so he paid it no mind. It wasn't long before both brothers were prepped and ready to 'act.' A kid ran up with a device, called the scene, take, and slated for sound, and action was called.
"Balthazar is no hero, but he knows Raphael will never take him back." Misha said, in a perfect imitation of Castiel.
Dean, very stiffly, moved forward, casting his eyes to the ground to figure out where he was supposed to be. Instantly the big guy called "Cut!"
He shuffled back into place, Misha doing the same, before the same kid came out and slated another take of the same scene.
"Balthazar is no hero, but he knows Raphael will never take him back." Misha said again.
Sam was moving his arms about as if he wasn't sure what to do with them this time, and Dean was still as stiff as ever, but at least he wasn't looking down. Their faces were as though they were trying too hard to model or something.
"And yet, somehow, you ain't got no problem with it." Dean replied, absolutely no inflection to his voice whatsoever.
"Cut!" The big guy yelled again.
Things were reset once again, except this time there was a girl playing with Misha's hair. When action was called again, Misha put his hand on her shoulder and guided her away so he could start the scene. This time, Sam was able to get a line in.
"It's because, it's because we have no other choice." Sam said, overdramatically.
All of the sudden, Dean muttered: "don't look at the camera."
"What?" Sam asked.
"Look anywhere but at the camera." Dean advised, resuming his overexaggerated blue steel glare, directed towards Misha.
Sam, assuming maybe his brother knew what he was talking about, repeated his line, this time looking at the ceiling to avoid any eye contact with the camera in front of them.
"Cut!" Once again, was called.
Another take had Sam and Dean not saying anything at all, just staring weirdly at Misha. Everyone was dumbfounded at the situation, while Sam and Dean were trying so hard to do something right. Once again, things were reset, and they were good for another try.
"If there's a key, then there must also be a lock." Sam got out this time, his hands in front of him in a zombie-ish sort of way.
Again, they were reset to go again.
"If there's a key, then there has to be a lock. And when we find the lock, we can get the weapons, and then we can have the weapons. And the lock will also have a lock I imagine, because we opened it, and the initial key that opens..." Sam went off on a nervous rant.
"We need to get all three of that crap." Dean interrupted, the tone he used could only be described as that of a growling robot.
"What?" Sam asked, not having understood Dean's line.
"That's how he does it." Dean whispered, and gestured with his hand to indicate that he'd been trying to imitate Misha.
The brothers floundered for another second before Dean turned to the crew and asked loudly, "do we really need all these lines? I think we've covered it, eh?"
"CUT!" The big guy looked like he was about to have a panic attack.
Dean and Sam looked horrified while the crew had a proverbial melt down. Taking scripts, Dean, Sam, and even Misha walked over to the chairs and took a seat.
"Who wrote this? Nobody says 'penultimate!'" Sam complained indicating the script.
"Gun, mouth, now." Dean replied, imitating his hand being the gun, and shooting himself in the head.
Turning his head to look around, he saw the not so pregnant version of Hermione walking toward where they were sitting. Dean hit Sam's arm to get his attention.
"Dude!" Sam complained at first, unknowing as to why his brother was beating his arm in the first place.
"It's Hermione, but not Hermione. Where's the baby?" Dean asked, panic settling in.
"Oh." Sam's eyes went wide at seeing a skinny, not so pregnant Hermione.
When she reached where they were sitting Misha spoke up: "morning Emma."
"Morning Misha, Jared, Jensen." Emma greeted briefly, before taking a seat beside Misha.
Dean was really starting to panic with this development. In this reality, Hermione wasn't Hermione, she was Emma, and she wasn't pregnant. This could only mean his Hermione was still at Bobby's, the real Bobby's.
Fuck.
"Aren't you supposed to be pregnant?" He asked before he could censor himself.
"Aren't you supposed to be a great actor?" Emma replied, rolling her eyes.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked, getting defensive.
"You're bungling the schedule, you blithering idiot." Was the response from the less than friendly Emma.
"Well, I'm sorry princess." Dean snarked, turning back around in his seat.
"Don't apologize to me, I get paid either way." She replied, shifting her attention from the defensive actor, to her script.
"Moving on. Emma, Misha, you're up for your scene together." Someone called, motioning for the fake Castiel, and Hermine to follow to a different set.
"Thank God." Sam said quietly, taking the package over to the desk prop for the Bobby's house set. Dean followed close behind, ready more so now to get home, than ever.
"All right, damn it, we earned this." Dean said, pulling out their purchases from the package.
They worked together to mix all of the ingredients they'd seen Balthazar use in a bowl. Once they were done, Dean carefully painted the sigil on the window they'd gone through originally. When he was done, they set aside the bowl and ran for the window. They busted through to the same mat they'd landed on 24 hours prior. It hadn't worked. Shaking off their landing, Sam and Dean walked back to Dean's trailer. Letting themselves in, Sam went to the table where he sat dejectedly.
"Maybe we did it wrong." He mused.
"No, no, that spell was perfect. It should have worked." Dean replied, taking a seat himself. He was already trying to figure out what went wrong, and how to fix it.
"What if it can't?" Sam questioned. "Look, I was up most of the night looking online. There's no sign that anything like the apocalypse happened here, ever. And as far as I can tell, monsters, ghosts, demons, they're all pretend."
"So, nobody's hunting them?" Dean questioned, confused.
"No hunters." Sam replied. "Look, maybe that's why our spell didn't work, Dean. You know, maybe here there's no supernatural, no magic."
Dean held up a hand to stop Sam's logic. "No demons, no hell, no heaven, no God?"
"Something like." Sam replied. "Even better, no angels."
Panic was starting to rise in Dean once again. There were upsides to this alternate universe, he'd give anyone that, but his life as Dean Winchester… There would be no Hermione, no baby for him on the way, here. He'd be giving up his entire life, and identity to be someone completely different. It wouldn't be bad for Sam, but for him, he wasn't sure if he could live this way, as himself, but not himself.