Chapter Seven – Acting 101

The movie sputtered and stopped, the screen going dark for an instant before the bright light of the projector cast it in brilliant white. The auditorium itself seemed to be expectantly waiting, trembling and humming with a strange energy before the silence was finally broken as a loud gasp rose up from the crowd, moaning and crying out as if they were dying in the frigid depths of the Atlantic. Rolling his eyes, Dean let out an audible sigh of relief. Finally! He stood up and looked around the theater, the EMF detector in his hand registering only faint readings like the spirit had already vanished. He nervously chuckled… Elvis has left the building… don't I wish!

At least Elvis had talent and style. He was, after all, the King of Rock and Roll, gotta respect that. Leo might be an okay actor, but his choice in roles was pathetic. Obviously he was following Cameron down the road to obscurity, doomed to all the pretty-boy roles he could handle. I guess someone's gotta give the tween groupies somebody to swoon over. Poor bastard!

The theater owner was immediately on the scene, addressing the crowd and assuring them full refunds for their inconvenience while simultaneously shooting daggers at Dean.

Yeah, I know, I'm a screw-up. Let's see you hunt Casper!

"I don't want a refund. Please, just fix the movie," a desperate cry moaned.

A second voice joined in, "Yeah, we'll wait. How long can it take to splice it back together? My nephew, the idiot, could do it."

It started off with a few, loud, rabble-rousers and escalated into an all-out fractious war zone. The moviegoers were rabid, crazed on this Titanic juju juice. They simply refused to leave, intent that somehow, someway, they would find out the ending of their insipid movie.

What? They need to go back to school and pay attention in history class for a change? Hello! The.. ship.. sank..!

"Please, everyone, just go home. The movie will be playing tomorrow. Come back then. If you don't want a refund, just bring your ticket stub back for free admittance." The owner was frantic, pleading for reason, which considering the apparent IQ of this crowd was truly a desperate hope. "Just go home, come back tomorrow."

One teenage girl was particularly vocal, "Oh, god, what happens? I can't wait. I HAVE TO KNOW NOW! I HAVE TO!"

The theater owner looked to Dean for answers, his eyes squeezed into tiny slits above nostrils that were flaring out and snorting like a bull ready to charge. He looked like any second he was going to blow a gasket.

Unimpressed, Dean stared the jerk straight in his beady little eyes and arched his brows as if to ask… What? Like I need to hold these freaks' hands? I'm a hunter, a protector of innocents. Hell, call me a spirit zapper, whatever… but I am not a nursemaid!

The bastard who owned the theater had the John Winchester, disapproving, death-to-the-infidels-glower down pat. He pierced Dean's resolve with one icy stare. He walked over to Dean and agitatedly discussed the situation. With a dismissive scowl and a crude hand gesture he walked away and left the crowd in Dean's hands.

Mumbling a litany of curses, Dean disgustedly ran his hand down his face and surveyed the situation. Only a scattering of patrons had taken the owner up on his offer to return tomorrow, the rest were all staring expectantly at him to save them from their anguish. Hell, that is what he does, he saves people… but from real evil, not this manufactured drivel that Hollywood was passing off as entertainment. Blockbuster movie, my ass!

Taking a deep breath, Dean did what he always did when faced with adversity; he tackled it head on with biting wit and scathing sarcasm. "Look, just settle down…, don't freak out. It's only a movie, not like it's gonna win the Noble peace prize or cure cancer." He chuckled then as his next thought cleared his internal censor and careened past his lips, "Hell, it might just clean up at the Razzies though, but then again there's always some mighty stiff competition there, so you never know. I think Halloween the Thirtieth might give it a run for the money, but personally, it definitely has my vote."

"ONLY a movie? Are you insane?" one woman in the back yelled, obviously off her Prozac.

"Uh, no… are you?" he countered, quirking his left brow in obvious disapproval, his body automatically shifting into a military stance, ready in a defensive posture.

He was met by a wall of resistance as the movie-goers banded together to hurl obscenities at him. He'd been around some rough company before, had a vocabulary worthy of a longshoreman, but even he picked up a few new colorful phrases. There were some choice words he actually wanted to sit down with the perp hurling the lewd remarks and ask for a detailed definition… maybe even a diagram… you know, for future reference. And Sammy thinks I don't do research!

"Everybody just calm down. Look, we're going to tell you what happens, alright?" a familiar voice called out.

Dean peered into the crowd searching out the source, dreading the truth before he ever spotted the speaker as he approached.

"SAMMY? What the hell are you doing here?" he gasped.

"Looks like I'm here to save your ass," Sam replied with a confident grin, locking eyes with his brother.

"That'll be the day."

"Well, Buddy, looks like today's the day."

Dean straightened his posture so he was towering over his brother, glowering at him and ignoring the reference to Buddy Holly that would normally have him beaming with pride. "Sammy, WHAT are you doing here?" His voice was firm and strong, the closest he could come to mimicking the timbre of their dad's commanding tone.

Sam stood next to his brother and took him by the arm, turning him away from the crowd so they could continue their conversation in relative privacy, knowing Dean didn't want any witnesses to what he had to say.

"Look, Dean, I don't need to deal with any of your macho bullshit. Face it, you need my help. You sure as hell, need somebody's help and since Dad took off as usual, then I guess it's up to me to back you up." Sam's eyes had a steely cast to them and his voice was two registers lower, exhibiting the determined edge he usually reserved for when he was questioning Dad's authority. "Just accept the help and let's finish this job and move on. ALRIGHT?" Sam released his brother's arm and stood defiantly before him.

Dean wanted to protest. He wanted to argue until the cows came home and defend his ability to handle this all on his own. As much as he wanted to insist he was fine, he knew the truth, and it appeared Sam did too. Damn it! For once Dean Winchester looked into his brother's eyes and saw a hunter and his heart swelled up with pride, a parent's pride. My little whippersnapper is growing up! He knew Sam hated the life, the jobs, and the constant struggles. He knew his little brother would rather bury his face in a book or watch anything on the tube instead of jumping willingly into the thick of the battle.

Dean's eyes got a little misty as he reacted to his brother choosing to help him in spite of his reservations and own desires. To have his brother offering assistance, to have him standing firm beside him in this hunt, eased the anguish that had been twisting in his gut and threatening to undo him. Alright, Sammy, we do this together.

Dean offered up his all-too-familiar cocky smirk. "Don't go all Rambo on my ass. You want in on the action," Dean paused for a moment just to watch Sam squirm, "you got it." He playfully slapped his hand to the side of his brother's face, feeling baby soft skin in stark contrast to the steel tone in his voice, not even a hint of stubble on the smooth cheek. "There's plenty of action to go around, didn't realize you were so hot for the hunt."

Sam relaxed under his brother's welcoming embrace. Well, that went better than I thought. Looks like even Dean can use his brain and realize his limitations when push comes to shove.

The natives were getting restless waiting for the resolution of the brothers' personal little drama, caring little for the Winchesters' bonding moment, only wanting their damn movie back or at the very least the answers to all their questions.

"We want Jack and Rose."

"We want Jack and Rose."

"WE WANT JACK AND ROSE!"

One voice became two and then a dozen, ending up as too many to clearly count. The chants got louder and the crowd became more belligerent, unwilling or unable to be reasonable. Soon the entire theater joined in on the insanity. They started stomping their feet and it felt like a herd of elephants was stampeding towards them ready to pound them into the ground. Mass hysteria had created a monster. Unfortunately, it was not the kind of monster the Winchesters were used to dealing with.

Dean grimaced as all reason left his brain and he reacted as he normally did. Since guns blazing was out of the question he resorted to running off at the mouth. "Yeah? Well, I want Jack and Rose too, and once I get 'em, you know what I'm gonna do with them? Huh?" His arms were flailing about, egging on the crowd, almost daring them to step a toe over his line of protection. "Let's just say, it ain't gonna be pretty," he taunted.

The crowd gasped and silence filled the theater. Dean smugly turned and grinned at his brother, confident he had quelled their little uprising. "See, Sammy, you just gotta show 'em who's the boss." It only took a minute for the error in his judgment to become apparent. Slowly the incessant chants returned in a wave of passion as that one annoying person again started the torrential backlash.

The voices again loudly rising up, rejecting reason and refusing to leave. The walls themselves rumbling from the racket.

"Titanic, Titanic, Titanic." Over and over they screamed their rebel yell.

Before Dean fanned the flames of dissent again, Sam stepped forward and motioned for the crowd to silence. Dean watched in awe as his kid brother calmed the crazed beasts circling them, looking to devour them if they denied their demands.

Sammy calmly spoke, "Look, no problem. You want to know how the movie ends?"

A huge roar responded, "YES!"

Sam grinned at his brother, patting him on the back and nudging him forward. "My brother here will tell you all the details." Sam leaned up and whispered in Dean's ear, "Won't you, bro?" with a sweet smile.

Dean shuddered as the words reverberated down into his soul and he felt the ground give way. He hated public speaking to start with. He was a man of action, not words, even if he did have a flair for a biting, scathing comment or a witty repartee. He felt himself tumbling into a black void, the terror he'd experienced over this job morphing into total humiliation and absolute, abject horror. Truth be told, he'd rather face down a rampaging creature of the night ready to suck all the blood from his body and gnaw on his mangled bones than give a dissertation, even if he could visualize everyone in their underwear. Heck, he was an expert at that without the public speaking, but only with the pretty girls. He'd hardly want to envision chubby Joe Citizen with his hairy chest and truck-driver arms leering at him in his skivvies. He definitely had no desire to see most of the freaks in this audience period, let alone in their underwear, aside from his hot lobby girl who he'd just noticed standing off to the side observing him.

He set his feet in a hunter's stance and dug in, prepared to battle all the evil they could bring. That was certainly preferable to offering one damn word about this freakin' movie. His mind was set, no way was he giving a talk on this stupid movie. No way in hell! Over my dead body! Bring it!

As if he could read his mind, Sam smiled at the crowd but again spoke steady and low to his brother, "Dean, do you want to die? 'Cause I think this crowd just might be willing to accommodate you if you don't give them what they want." He looked up with puppy dog eyes and smiled with the sweetest smile Dean had ever seen, at least on a guy. "Dean, please… I don't want to die."

Dean anxiously studied the intense, bloodthirsty faces watching him, hanging on every word, just waiting for him to give them all the gory details. I've died and gone to hell… He still would have held firm, the opinions and desires of the masses hardly holding sway over Dean Winchester, if not for the presence of his kid brother standing right there beside him on the front lines of war. The determining factor in this little stand-off was Sam… Sammy. It was always Sammy. He'd spent his life protecting the kid; he could hardly fail him now.

Yeah, right… Dad would certainly understand… Sammy died in a stampede at the local multiplex because big brother was shy about speaking in front of a crowd. NOT! Over my dead body!

Dean started to speak, but faltered, stuttered, and looked lost. He nervously shifted his feet as his mouth opened and then abruptly closed again, his eyes squeezed tight in one last desperate hope that when he opened them the theater would be miraculously empty. Yeah, right… fat chance! One more insistent gaze from Sammy, along with a firm push forward, and he sucked it up and reluctantly started to speak.

"Alright, everybody, listen up." His eyes were darting over the crowd, still gauging their skills and whether he and Sam could fight their way out of here without too much trouble. The fighting credentials of this pathetic, chronically out-of-shape crowd appeared negligible, but the mass numbers and the fervor in their eyes didn't bode well for an easy getaway. One quick glance toward Sammy and he again resolved to do the job, whatever that entailed. He glared at the crowd, defiance still lingering in his gaze, but resigned to the inevitable. He felt the spotlight upon him as he faced his punishment. And I sure as hell have no idea what I ever did to deserve this! He swallowed down his pride and spoke,"Jack dies, Rose lives, and the ship's at the bottom of the ocean. End of story," Dean gasped out with a tentative smile and an offhand wave, "G'night everybody."

"No, there's more. There has to be more," the voice cried out.

"Oh, yeah, right… the necklace sinks too. That's it, folks." Dean again tried to motion to the crowd to disperse, to head for the lobby and leave them in peace. Like that's going to happen with these freaks? What is wrong with these people?

The caterwauling began, steadily increasing in volume and fervor. "Wait, no. We need more."

"We need details."

"Please."

Dean stood firm. I told them, goddamnit. That's as far as I'm willing to go for survival. What the hell do they want from me?

Sam was the only voice of reason in the midst of all this insanity, but Dean wasn't in the mood to listen to him, not with what he had to say.

"Dean, tell them the rest."

"Sammy, that's it. What more could there possibly be? Or are you the one who slept through history class?"

Sam was right there in Dean's face, pushing, demanding. "Dean, you're going to have to do it."

"No, Sammy, I'm NOT." I've already given a pound of flesh and a gallon of blood, that's it. I got nothin' left.

Sam's bottom lip pushed out, his stare more deadly than the rabid crowd's.

Nothing left… nothing.., N-O-T-H-I-N-G… Sam didn't give an inch; if anything he leaned in closer, right into Dean's personal space with a look that indicated he wasn't going anywhere… not until Dean did what he wanted him to do. Dean released a soft sigh …that is, nothing except my pride…

Dean tried one last time to reach his kid brother, hoping for reason to put him back on his side. "Sammy, would you blink, for christssake? You're gonna go blind."

"Dean, they're not leaving until you do it."

Dean stomped his foot. It was worthless, but it made him feel slightly better, like maybe he actually had some control over this situation. If Sammy can act like a petulant child, then I sure as hell can too. "Damn it, Sammy."

"Just do it, Dean."

"I already did."

"Dean."

Dean never could resist Sammy, especially once he added the puppy dog eyes, sad and pleading.

Dean took a deep breath. I'm a hunter, I've faced worse. I can do this… I can… or… he swallowed hard, pain contorting his face …maybe not. "Look folks, I told you what I remembered, it's not like I have the script."

Damn it, Dean, quit stalling and just do it!

Sam broke in, torpedoing his brother's escape plan as he loudly asked, "Dean, how many times have you seen the movie?"

Dean startled, shocked his brother would expose him to ridicule like this, even if he had been teasing him relentlessly over the past month on his girly long hair. They were brothers, he expected loyalty and regardless of past behavior, he hardly deserved this. He snapped at the kid, "Not relevant, Sammy. Just.. shut.. the.. hell.. up.." His eyes adding the one word his mouth refused to utter… please.

"Well over a dozen times," Sam loudly proclaimed, withstanding a fierce look from big brother, while the crowd buzzed with admiration, "Right, bro?"

The crowd broke out clapping. Clapping!?!?

Dean cringed. His eyes dissolving into a sad, childlike hurt.

"Oh, my, God! You lucky man!" Dean's nemesis screamed out.

Yeah, right, not exactly what I was thinking. Hasn't even gotten me laid. Dean's internal voice again sounding suspiciously like Bruce Willis. No time.., gotta a job to do... Be the good little soldier, Dean... Screw it! I just wanna get laid! I am soooo overdue some action for watching this crap.

Dean stared at the mass of crazed eyes upon him, searching.., hoping.., desperate… a pack of rabid hell hounds would be less threatening.

"Please, tell us."

"Please."

"Oh, yes, please."

He heard the whistle blowing in his head and he was beyond all restraint. Sam watched in awe as his reluctant, obstinate brother relinquished all control. Dean turned with a confident air and marched to the front of the theater, basking in the attention focused upon him. He passionately started reenacting the final emotional moments of the movie, perfectly capturing the heightened sensibilities and tension as the ship rose up out of the water before slipping back into its icy grave. Amid the frantic screams of the panicking passengers, Rose and Jack whispered their heartfelt final goodbyes as they shivered in the frigid water. Dean gasped out Jack's dying words and the audience grew silent before a thunderous applause again rose up snapping him out of his trance. His face twisted and his eyes seemed lost behind a veil of sadness and panic as he realized where he was and what he had again just done. Shame crossed his face alongside confusion, his mind reeling from his total lack of control.

What the hell is happening to me?

TBC