Comrades and Brothers
Part 8
Misha had always been weird, but now Jared had evidence that he was not just plain weird, but the fucking King, yeah, capital 'K' and all. What sane, normal person just sat back and nodded vigorously in the face of his best friends' doppelgangers as they essentially told their life stories and how they came to be here and how they had been fucking lying and pretending to be what they were obviously saying they weren't? Seriously Misha was just eating this up like he was hearing the president was actually an alien from someplace far, far away or something like it, all wide eyes and gleaming excitement. Jared had to resist the urge to tear his hair out. This. Was. So. Effing. Messed. Up.
"And Cas, what's he like, really?"
Dean frowned, scratching his jaw as he mulled over the question. He shrugged as he said, "Well, like an angel, you know? I mean, dude, you play him."
"Well, yeah, but these two jackasses play you guys and their portrayals…are, a bit, different," Misha pointed out.
"How different we talking?" Sam asked, looking more intrigued than Jared was right now. Seriously. Couldn't they fucking get back on the subject at hand? Hello, Castiel's important mission, a fucking angel war for Pete's sake, and the Winchesters didn't look a damn bit worried, like this was just a normal thing. Jared paused in his inner rant and thought about that some more. It probably was. Then he shook his head. No, it didn't matter. They had to get the Winchesters back.
"Don't you think we've got more pressing concerns to worry 'bout?" he blurted, trying for casual and not panicked but pretty sure he didn't succeed.
The group turned to stare at him. Jensen said, "No need to get your panties in a twist, princess," the same moment Dean said, "No sweat, kid."
Jared rolled his eyes. "You do realize Raphael could be coming after us any minute."
"You told us," Dean said casually, waving off the reminder with a motion of his hand.
"What? Raphael? That one archangel?" Misha cut in, eyes bright.
Jensen shrugged. "Supposedly. We only got to see his actor, what, once?"
"Yeah. But I don't remember Kripke mentioning him coming back and I didn't see him on the set at all this week. Probably playing as another 'vessel'."
"How are you guys so casual about this?" Jared asked.
Sam shrugged and answered, "Dude, have you seen your world? No magic here, so that applies to angel mojo too…I think."
"You think?" Jared demanded.
"Relax, J-Pad," Dean said after a moment. Jared raised an eyebrow at the nickname. The doppelganger froze as if the nickname had just slipped out and he didn't realize he had said it until now, but then shrugged, as casual and cool like Jensen looked on the show.
"Seriously, man? J-Pad?" Jensen said, looking in disbelief at his counterpart, like he couldn't believe he just said that. Jared couldn't blame him. He heard just the same as everyone else and still couldn't believe it.
"Why not, hotshot?" Dean shot back. What the hell was up with all the bad nicknames?
"Hotshot? Dude, you're like one of those bad joke books only you're full of bad nicknames instead," Jensen blurted, then paused to consider what he just said. He rubbed a hand to the side of his face and huffed out a breathy laugh. "I can't believe I just said that to myself."
"You and me both," Dean mumbled after a shocked silent moment.
Sam sniggered into a fist and nudged Jared in the side. "Tell me I'm not going insane, man," he stage whispered into Jared's ear. "Tell me you're seeing the same as me."
"We're both going insane then." Jared rubbed his eyes in disbelief but the scene playing out before him wasn't going away. Dean Winchester and his actor, Jared's co-star, were teasing each other like best buds. Not that Jared was in any better a position because he was currently sharing a beer in comfortable silence with his own doppelganger. He stole a glance to the door where Misha was hanging about. He was probably the worst. He was taking all this with a calm and ease as if he saw this on a daily basis. Then again it was Misha. The man called his own fans 'minions' for Pete's sake.
"So who said we had to kill someone for the ritual?"
The question startled everyone out of silence just as Jared knew it would. Well, they had to start somewhere. "Woah, woah, no one did. And we're not gonna kill anyone," Dean said finally, looking far too uncomfortable for Jared's liking. He felt a huge 'but' coming on. "It's just, whenever someone summons up something supernatural, nothing good ever comes out in the end. Demon, angel, you name it. Always got some kinda price that makes it just, you know, not worth it."
"So, what, then? Me and Padalecki here, we heard Cas pretty clear. He said human blood," Jensen pressed.
"He didn't say anything about killing anyone, did he?" Dean suddenly snapped.
"No, but…"
"No buts," Dean said, already shaking his head. "No one's gonna die. Okay? Even if it's our only way to get home, no one here's gonna die on my watch."
"So, what, then? What are you guys gonna do?"
Jared frowned as the room went silent again. After a moment, it was Misha that said, "How about we all donate a little of our blood? That should be enough."
Dean looked thoughtfully at him, like he would actually consider that. "Okay," he said finally with a shrug. "That could work. What do you think, Sammy? You know more 'bout this occult stuff than me."
Sam shrugged. "People usually use all of a person's blood but I dunno if that's because it's just easier or if it's a requirement. I mean, I don't exactly see why it wouldn't work if you take a little from different people as long as we get enough. Human blood is human blood."
"Okay then. Guess that settles that."
"What? Me and Jared don't get a say in this, asshole?"
Dean narrowed his eyes at his doppelganger and leaned back ever so casually, then he smirked and said, "Oh come on, hotshot, you already had your say when you agreed to be Cas' lapdogs."
Jensen snorted but didn't say anything. He couldn't really say anything because he and Jared had agreed to help the Winchesters. Dean bent down to pull up a knife from the back of his ankle strap, Jared's eyes nearly popped from their sockets at the sight. It glinted in the light and Jesus, that wasn't a damn prop. It was sharp, pointy and fucking real.
"Slicin' and dicin' time, guys," Dean said cheerfully and sliced a thin cut on his arm, letting a trail of blood ooze into the bowl. Then he turned to Sam and held out the knife for him once he was satisfied with the amount in the bowl.
Sam took it and made a similar cut on his left arm, hissing at the pain as blood dribbled out. All the while, Jared had to gulp down the nausea he felt. They all waited in a semi-circle around the center of the room and when Sam thought it was finally enough, he retracted his arm and dropped the knife in Jensen's trembling hands. Jared had to give him props for the poker face he kept on as he let his arm hover over the bowl and watched in a horrified kind of detachment as his blood spilled into the half full bowl that Jared decided was going to be known as the 'bowl of sacrifice'. It had a nice ring to it.
Misha came next as Jensen was handed a paper towel. He made his cut just deep enough and angled his arm so none of the blood spilled to the floor. Jared looked down almost of his own accord and saw some drops staining the floor already. He wondered vaguely what the cleaning crew would think of the glass shards all over the couch and then take a good look at the floor and see the dark, red stains already seeping into the pores of the carpet. It was Jared's turn when he dared to look back up, everyone else already finishing cleaning their cuts and just staring at him expectantly. Jared, numb to the bone, didn't say a word as he accepted the knife and proceeded to make a long, shallow cut.
The process had gone quietly enough, like everyone thought if they talked, uttered even one word it wouldn't work. Or maybe they were all just too busy staring at all the blood, a sea of blood practically, too mesmerized to put into words what it was they were seeing.
Dean had set the bowl down on the floor and sat down, cross legged. Everyone else had followed suit because standing just felt too awkward. He waited as his brother settled next to him staring intently into the bowl, face screwed in concentration as he started to recite the exorcism.
Jared felt the odd urge to take hold of Jensen's and Misha's hands on either side of him. Wasn't this what people usually did when they were trying to communicate with, like, a ghost or something? God, he needed to cut back the crap he saw on TV. It was starting to mess with his head. Dean, who was sitting across from him, just grinned, like he knew exactly what Jared was thinking. Jared ducked his head and let his hands settle into his lap, all clammy and cold and slightly twitchy.
Suddenly Sam stopped and Jared blinked, wondering if it was done already. He looked back up to see everyone staring into empty air as well. Then suddenly the blood was boiling and Jared wondered if that was supposed to happen. Sam and Dean looked kind of tensed, shoulders hunched.
"Cas?" Dean called.
The blood boiled again in response, then stopped. Jared held his breath in the momentary silence. It boiled for a third time and an almost familiar voice said from the bowl, "Dean? Dean is that you?"
"Holy…fuck," Jensen breathed from beside him. Yeah, holy fuck was exactly Jared's thought.
"Dean, answer me," the bowl tried again.
"Yeah, yeah, Cas, it's us," Dean said as he gathered his wits back.
A brief silence and then, "Oh, thank god. Dean, okay, listen carefully. I'm only going to say this once. I'm going to create a portal for you and your brother to get back, but not now. I don't have enough time. I'm a bit…preoccupied at the moment."
Dean swallowed, digesting the new information. It was Sam that blurted, "When? Cas, when are you making the portal?"
"Soon," came the answer. "I…I'm on the run right now, from Raphael and his men. Be at the same spot you fell through in exactly, and I mean exactly, two hours from now, and…and be ready. Do you understand? Sam? Dean?"
"Y-yeah. We got you, Cas."
"Good. I only have enough to make the ritual once," the bowl said.
"Yeah. Okay. We'll be there."
"Okay. And guys, be careful." The boiling then stopped and Jared was staring into a slopping mess of blood. He shuddered and rose to his feet. Dean leaned back casually and exchanged a long look with his brother. Everyone stayed quiet.
If Jared hadn't worked with the guy for years now, he'd have chalked up Misha's behavior to shock or a break from reality. How else would it explain why he was prancing around the room like what just happened was the best thing that happened to him instead of running and screaming for the hills? Jared wasn't doing either of it because one, he wasn't as weird as Misha to think this as something exciting and two, he was too numb to consider running and screaming. Not with what happened to him and Jensen earlier at least.
And predictably, Jensen was wearing his best damn poker face and no matter how hard Jared tried to see through it, he couldn't get even a glimpse of the man under his mask. It wasn't really lame because Jared might be the only guy here that looked just as panicked as he felt. Because the blood ritual occult thing actually worked. It. Worked. Here. He could always tell himself it was all a hallucination, even if it wasn't, but Jensen and Misha both saw it and he knew, Misha would never let him forget this. Even when he badly wanted to. Made it so blatantly clear he wanted to.
He could drown himself in liquor at the nearest bar, and it still wouldn't be enough because…
"Dude, that was awesome! I mean at first I kinda had my doubts even though you guys are, like, right in front of me. I mean, you guys could be really convincing doubles that J2 hired to mess with me, you know? But then, dude, was that really Cas?" There was a kind of reverence and awe in his voice that made Jared want to gag.
Dean waved him off like he was just another annoying fan that he and Sam had to deal with on a daily basis, the thought had Jared snigger in his head at the sheer freaking irony. "Yep, that was Cas."
Misha opened his mouth, probably to suck up some more, the fucking traitor, but a sudden scream outside cut him off. Dean and Sam, hunting and saving people so ingrained in them, made a dash for the door and flung it open. Jared, Jensen, and Misha, curiosity getting the best of them were right at their heels. They all stepped outside in time to see a few people running their way, flailing their arms when they spotted the five just standing dumbly outside the trailer.
Someone Jared wasn't familiar with, maybe one of the extras, shouted out, "Don't just stand there! Run! Some dude just shot someone!" Then he was stumbling back, tripped and got up as quick as Jared had ever seen anyone get up, and was running in a different direction all together, out of his mind and scared shitless. He swallowed audibly and looked to the little group still frozen near him.
"What do we do now?" he asked what everyone was thinking.
Dean hesitated, looking to his brother. God, they looked at each other a lot, didn't they? Jared never noticed until now. "We get him before he hurts any more people." Obviously. Like it was the only answer.
Everyone agreed it had to be one of Raphael's men. So the bastard shot someone instead of smite. They already went over how there was no magic here and that had to include angelic hell powers. And it couldn't have been an act of random violence, not with everything else that happened over the past day or so. So that left them with a dimension travelling bad angel loose in the 'real' world. That last bit had been unofficially dubbed by Jared in his head.
"So what are we going to do? 'Gank' him?" Jared asked finally as they all retreated back in the trailer.
Dean raised an eyebrow as he looked one by one from Jared, to Misha, to Jensen. He raised a finger and said, "You three aren't gonna do anything." Then he pointed to him and then Sam before anyone could protest. "Now, me and Sam? We're gonna hunt this sucker down and get him talking about what's been going on with the damn angels lately."
"Wait a sec—"
"Come on guys, seriously. Let me and Dean handle this one. I mean, we're really grateful for your help with Cas and all, but this is way out of your league. No offense."
Dean smirked, nodding along with his brother. "Yeah, kiddos. Leave this one to the grownups."
Jared scowled. He had been starting to like Dean a little but then the guy goes and says something like that. Who knew both Dean and Ackles had something in common. They were both first class jackasses. No one argued after that because it seemed pretty pointless. Jared watched the doppelgangers go. When the door closed shut behind them, he turned to stare at Jensen and Misha.
"We gonna follow them or what?" Misha asked.
Jared smirked. And this was one of the reasons he and Misha hit it off together almost immediately. All three waited a beat before they went back out. It was all insane on a whole another level for Jared, maybe deeper. The whole teleporting to another dimension had been the first level because Jared could have easily pretended it was just a bad dream in the end. But this, here, back in the 'real' world, meeting doppelgangers and chasing after bad angels? How was he supposed to get over this when half the crew saw it as well? God, how was he supposed to ever be Sam Winchester again without thinking of the real…no, wait, don't think like that.
"A baseball bat? Really?" Jensen said.
The three were huddled together at the set, hiding behind the green screen. Misha had apparently picked up a baseball bat on the way in the props pile. Jared didn't think about getting something random to use as a weapon. He and Jensen planned on just tackling the guy if they ever spotted him.
Misha looked down at it and shrugged, tightening his grip after a moment. "Gotta protect myself any way I can, man. I mean people fend off burglars and murderers all the time with a baseball bat on TV, that or vases."
Jensen rolled his eyes. "If you haven't noticed, this isn't exactly a movie," he said dryly.
Misha looked around thoughtfully. "No, but it's a movie set."
Seriously. Were they really arguing about this now? Jared could hardly believe it and resisted the urge to smack the backs of their heads, just barely. "Guys. Focus!"
A sudden gunfire broke out and Jared tumbled from behind the screen to see the Winchesters facing off with what had to be one of the extras, one of the dudes that volunteered to play as an angel grunt. But no, he had to tell himself, this wasn't some regular guy, some actor.
The guy ignored Jared, shooting toward Dean with intent and purpose at the same time both Winchesters decided to rush him. Dean grabbed the guy's arm, forcing him to shoot at the ceiling as Sam tackled them to the ground, the air whooshing out of everyone at the impact. Jared sat dumbly on the ground as he watched them roll around, trying to wrestle the gun from the guy's hand.
Then a loud shout came from behind the green screen and Misha jumped out with the baseball bat in both hands, eyes wide, like some comical relief. Jared nearly groaned.
"Okay. Let's all calm down, everyone, and talk this out like rational adults."
Like some kind of weird ass cartoon, everyone paused long enough to stare at Misha.
Seriously. Leave it to Misha to make everything even more awkward than it had to be. In the pause, Dean had enough time to pluck the gun from the guy's hand and Sam hauled him up to his feet. Dean had then told Jared to get some rope and proceeded to truss the guy up like a turkey, pushing him down on a chair in the center of the room, lights all bright and shining, all the doors locked and Jared almost felt like he was in one of those procedural cop shows waiting for the interrogation to begin. Actually that was exactly what Sam and Dean turned the set into.
"Okay, about Raphael, start talking."
Like any interrogation scene Jared saw, the guy wasn't close to talking. He looked angrily at Dean, then Sam, then…Jensen, then Jared and then Misha and by the end of it, he wasn't so much angry but confused. Jared sympathized with the poor, bewildered bastard, because he clearly thought he only had to deal with the Winchesters here. Probably didn't even know the existence of the actors.
"Wha…b-but…you," he sputtered, looking around him like he had been tossed suddenly way out of his depths.
"Look, you're talking to us. Me and Sam, not them. Ignore them," Dean said trying to divert his attention back.
Jared was content to let the interrogation play out the way the Winchesters wanted it but with a quick glance to Misha and Jensen, he realized he was the only one that felt that way. Misha had that glint in his eye the way he always did when he was thinking of a way to mess with him or Jensen. Jensen raised an eyebrow at Jared, as if to say, don't look at me, I'm not a part of this. This, whatever Misha was planning on doing.
"Turn around! I am Castiel," Misha said loudly in his angel voice, stepping toward their captive. He glanced briefly at Sam, then Dean. "Thank you, Dean, Sam, but I can take it from here."