Comrades and Brothers

The Winchester Side: Part 3

Dean was done, so done, with freaking out like a little girl. Once he heard a voice that was most definitely not Sam, shouting his brother's name from down the stairs, oh he almost shot up like a rocket. Almost anyway, the key word being almost. He squeezed his eyes closed and turned to bury his face even more into the pillow when he heard the pounding on the stairs. He considered rolling off the bed and hiding underneath until not-Ruby went out but decided against it, it wasn't like she was actually Ruby and he was supposed to be Jensen, not Dean. He wasn't too sure what this Jensen dude's and not-Ruby's relationship was, couldn't be very good if she was married to his brother…er, not-brother, and they weren't even on speaking terms, but the most it'll be was probably just awkward, and Dean could handle awkward, as long as no one tried to kill him, he could definitely handle awkward.

Turned out, he didn't have anything to worry about. She didn't see him thankfully. Or maybe not so thankfully because as soon as she had walked into the bedroom she had her sights on Sam and the bitch, the fucking bitch went straight to sit, no, to straddle his brother's lap and make out with his face like a pair of teenagers driven by hormones. It nearly made him gag. Luckily for him, he didn't. He had a feeling that would have given away to his presence, what with vomiting all over the floor. To Dean's relief, nothing really happened. Surprising for all of Sam's uncharacteristic aggression. He always pegged his brother for the slow, make love romance thing, get the girl in the mood but…Dean wasn't going to think any more on this topic. Sex didn't happen. Case fucking closed. The end.

After not-Ruby left, Dean figured it was safe to 'wake up'. He stretched out and opened one eye, then laughed and proceeded to make fun of Sam because that was what good brothers do: make fun of little brothers, even if said little brother was kind of kissing the bitch demon that betrayed them. Kind of, because at the same time she wasn't. If that made any sense at all. For his efforts, Sam threw his sweaty shirt at him. It landed on his face and Dean had to crinkle his nose in disgust.

"So aside from having a little make out session with Ruby, what else have you been up to while I was sleeping, Anakin?"

Sam rolled his eyes, leaned back on the chair. "I ordered the stuff we need for the spell, should arrive by tomorrow." He paused and Dean didn't really like how his brother was worrying the bottom of his lip like that. Taking a deep breath, Sam said, "The stuff we need, it's really better if we went there to pick it up ourselves."

Dean frowned as he thought back to the list of ingredients. There were some pretty weird ass stuff on there that would probably make regular people do a double take if they saw.

"Okay."

That was how Dean found himself back in the stupid van that he was sure old folks drove the next day, Sam had dibs on shotgun and Cliff was behind the wheel, all three not saying anything while some country song was blaring from the radio which was in no way Dean's choice of station because Sam had full commandeer of the radio. Every time Dean tried to turn it off or at least switch stations, Sam's hand shot out to swat at his hand. He had to snatch his hand back after the third attempt for fear of losing it. Some battles just weren't worth it. He laid his head back and tried to relax but it was still some getting used to, Dean had always been behind the wheels of the Impala except for a few times he let Sam drive.

They arrived to get the package in time. Sam came back with it in his hands and all but dumped it into Dean's lap. He climbed back into his seat and slammed the door shut without a word and Cliff looked at them both a little suspiciously. But it wasn't like that expression was new to Dean. With the weird shit he saw and did on a daily basis, nothing ever surprised him.

"You guys aren't doing anything illegal, are you?"

Dean just grinned and looked down at the package in his lap. Sam was the one that said, "If we said we weren't, would that make you feel any better?"

"No, not really."

Dean suspected it wouldn't have. The drive back to the set was the longest drive Dean ever had to put up with.

It had to work, Dean felt it in his bones. They had everything they needed right here. "Okay, Sammy, you ready for this?" he asked as he dumped the last of the stuff into a bowl they found lying around in one of the many trailers. He looked up to see a hesitant look on his brother's face.

"You sure we got the right window?"

Dean looked around the room with a raised eyebrow. Looked the same to him. "Uh, yeah."

"Okay. Okay then. Let's do this."

"Okay so we'll both jump at the count of three."

"One…" He glanced at Sam and made sure his brother was getting ready because it was now or never. Sam was rubbing his sweaty hands on his jeans. "Two…" He looked back at the window marked in the same sigil he saw Balthazar mark the spell with. It was going to work, he knew it, they were going home, to pie, to angels, to demons, home sweet fucking home. "Three!" And he was running, Sam right beside him, flinging themselves at the window and he could feel the impact of the crash, hear the loud shattering of glass as shards rained down all around them, and then, and then he was crashing, they were crashing, face first to the ground, and he was sure it worked, it had to work…Dean rolled over and got up to his hands and knees and saw the familiar tiled floor of the, the, no that wasn't right, why was it a tiled floor? He glanced up to see the broken window that he and his brother just jumped through. But…the spell, it should have fucking worked. Why didn't it work?

Dean felt himself fall on his back, stared blearily up at the overhead light, squeezed his eyes closed thinking dazedly, we're never going to get back home now. Because he was out of ideas now. The spell had been their one shot and it…didn't work. After a few moments, he was roughly shaken awake. Dean snapped his eyes open to see Sam blinking down at him wearing the same dazed, almost bewildered look, asking him silently with just his eyes, his fucking huge puppy dog eyes really, why, Dean, why are we still here, it should've worked, we should be back, so what did we do wrong? Hell if Dean knew.

Dean got to his feet and rubbed his head. They trudged reluctantly through the set, faces beat with exhaustion and defeat and Dean nearly collapsed back on a recliner as he watched actors walk pass them, each shooting them perplexed looks like Sam and Dean were something alien to them. He couldn't help but wonder, after Misha passed by with another actor, arms slung on shoulders like they were best pals or something, if this was what Dean's and Sam's future lives would be like. Hunters reduced to pretenders. No more cheap motels and Chinese take outs, no more sharing rooms and paying rent with fraud credit cards, no more hunting and saving dicks that seldom thank them, no more monsters hiding in closets waiting to eat children, no more living on lies, no more angels and demons and hell hounds, no more Cas, no more Bobby, no more…no more…

He kicked back his legs as Sam wandered off to look for cheap food. He returned fifteen minutes later carrying a small take out box with fried chicken and rice and broccoli and lots of grease and all the other stuff Dean was sure wasn't all that healthy. Sam shared it silently with his brother and Dean relished the delicious taste, the flavors of food melting in his mouth. He looked at Sam after he ate his fill.

"Food's free here," Sam said as he bit into his third wing.

"One thing that doesn't suck at least," Dean offered.

Sam shrugged as he licked his fingers and set the chicken back into the box in his lap. "Look, Dean, we're not giving up, okay? There has to be another way."

"Uh, hello, Sammy, where exactly do you think we are?" Dean asked meaningfully.

Sam let his gaze drop to the floor for a moment before giving a shrug. "You ever thought why we haven't run into any monsters here?" Dean said finally.

"Monsters don't exist here, is that what you're saying?"

Dean shrugged and whistled appreciatively as he watched some people play out a fight scene. "At least not the variety we're used to."

Sam rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, digesting what Dean was saying. "So no monsters, that means no magic too? That's why the spell didn't work." Dean turned to see his brother slump, a sign of inward defeat. He swallowed at the thought. "Dean, if there's no magic, no supernatural, is it even possible for us to get home?"

Not really. Dean didn't reply.

It was a depressing thing to think about, but Dean felt like he knew it all along, even in all his excitement in finding the ingredients for Balthazar's spell. When they jumped through the window, he almost believed that it would work, it had to work, they went through all the trouble to brew it up, why wouldn't it not work? So he had his hopes up. And then dashed out. All in one sitting. And it sucked, oh boy did it suck big time.

"So I guess we should be thinking of what to do next," Sam said beside him.

Dean snapped his head up. "Like what? Look, Sammy, there's nothing we can do. Not from this side at least…" He let his voice trail off when all Sam did was stare at him, trying to make him feel uncomfortable, which was working partly because Dean was already out of his depths here and it was, come on, it was Sammy.

"Dean, we've got a good thing going here."

Dean snorted at that. Good one, Sammy, real good…almost sounded like…like, shit, you're serious, aren't you? That's your fucking serious-listen-to-me-voice. Shit, shit, sh—

"Dean, look around us. This world, it's got no monsters. No monsters, man, you know what that means? It means safe, Dean. It means safe and normal. Like we don't have to hunt now." Dean was glad Sam finally shut up, but his brother only shut up long enough to huff out a laugh, then he was back to trying to rip apart his brother one fucking word at a time. "Think about it. No more of this insane life on the road, in cheap seedy motels with shady people, no more running and not getting thanks from every single person we save. We can pose as these guys, Jared and Jensen, we can be them. We can lead normal lives, Dean." And that was about as much insanity Dean could take spouting out of his brother. Sam looked like he had more to say, opening that fucking mouth of his, like he had a lot more to say, to try to crush Dean down with, but no, no way no how was Dean taking any more of this, this shit.

Dean shook his head and cuffed his brother right on the back of his head. Sam had only time to yelp out a surprised, "Ow! Dean!"

"Listen, Sam, I get you, really I do. You take one look around and you get it in your head you can have a life again, like back in the good ol' Stanford years, right? You have a great career, a roof over your head that isn't actually mobile, and a, um, lovely wife if you can get past her appearance." Dean coughed awkwardly and Sam rolled his eyes. Then he looked his brother straight to his face. "But man, we're not Jared and Jensen. We can't be them. We can't take that from them. And I ain't gonna give up looking for a way to get us out. This isn't us, man. It isn't."

Sam was shaking his head as Dean looked pleadingly at him. He looked suddenly bitter, angry, like a little boy that had his toy snatched by a bigger, older kid, by his brother Dean. "What do you mean it isn't us? You think we're incapable of living normal lives? Huh, Dean, is that it?"

"Yeah, that's exactly what I think," Dean said automatically.

"Why's that?"

"Because we're Winchesters, man. We just don't have it in us."

"You're kidding. You've gotta be kidding me."

Dean sighed. What was it about Sam and his insistence on being as stubborn as a bull? "Look Dad didn't raise us like that, like normal people. You're just gonna have to suck it up and deal, Sam. I'm sure Cas will look for a way to get us out of here if he noticed we're gone long enough. We just have to wait it out. You'll see, Sammy."

"Don't call me that, jerk face." Sam stormed off.

Dean groaned and bit back on the urge to pull out his hair as he tore after his brother. He ignored all the people that stopped what they were doing long enough to shoot him weird looks. Just as he was racing past the trailers outside of the set, cursing Sam for his immaturity in his head all the while, he caught sight of someone tumbling out from the corner of his eye. He didn't slow down, had bigger things on his mind than a damn drunken actor. In fact Dean found himself running faster until the guy on his hands and knees was almost a speck in the distance.

"Wait! Winchester, fucking wait a minute!" And that, that right there was enough for Dean to freeze, his right leg hanging in the air caught in mid step. The guy rose shakily to his feet and came stumbling over, shock and bewilderment and a little bit of awe on his face that Dean was sure was a mirrored expression of his own. Well, shit, he thought dimly as he came face to face with his doppelganger, the guy that had to be, just had to be Jensen Ackles.