The conclusion...

Comrades and Brothers

Part 9

"Tell me…one of Raphael's men, where is your leader now? Where is this 'great' Raphael whom thinks he can defy me? And exactly…what is he planning?"

Jensen watched Misha circle the guy with a straight face, hands clasped behind him. This was 'improv' at its…well, not its finest because if he was being completely honest with himself, the dialogue sucked. But Misha had on his poker face through it all like he was some serious shit and that he supposed made it all the more laughable. He had to nudge Jared a few times 'cos the fucker kept trying to crack smiles. The poor bastard all tied up in the chair, Jensen felt only a little sorry for. Well no he didn't. The guy did shoot some poor guy in the face. He could sit tight through a little bad acting.

"Fuck you, Castiel!" The guy tried to spit in Misha's face but Misha was good at dodging things and like anyone could have good aim being fucking tied to a chair in the first place. He sidestepped it easily.

"That's not very nice, you know," Misha said, voice suddenly rougher and deeper. "You kinky bastard."

For fuck's sake. Jensen was not going to laugh, not now. He was the poker face master dammit. He looked up just in time to catch a sly grin cross Misha's face for a brief second as he moved behind the guy. Jensen narrowed his eyes. He had a feeling payback was going to be a bitch at the next convention. Misha moved on.

"Tell me what Raphael is planning," Misha said, leaning into the guy's personal bubble.

"Never," Raphael's guy spat.

Jensen wanted to roll his eyes, feeling like he was watching an episode of what was that called…with the good cop, bad cop routine, Criminal Minds or whatever? Who knew? All the cop shows these days, while under different names, were at their core, the same.

"Alright! That's it, this is getting us nowhere. Fork over the stage, now, Cas," Dean said stressing the name out. Jensen bit the bottom of his lip to keep from laughing but really, it was kind of pointless because he still let out a small snort. Dean glanced over, a silent warning for Jared and Jensen to not try anything. Misha wasn't getting with the program though.

He stopped to turn to stare at Dean. "Dean, I do not think it wise…"

"I'll tell you what's wise," Dean cut in. "And that's you stepping back and letting me and Sam take the reigns for a while now."

Misha opened his mouth to protest but Dean stomped over and took him to the side, leaning in to whisper, "Enough. Cut it out, man. You had your fun and we're under a deadline if you haven't noticed. So just let me and Sam…just do our jobs. Now go over there with your other pals and stay put."

"Whatever you say, Dean," Misha said, nodding his head seriously. He clasped a firm hand to Dean's shoulder, startling the guy to jump in surprise. "All you had to do was ask."

There was one thing about Misha to understand. He liked to mess with people, like seriously mess with them. Jensen was sure it was one of his goals in life to send Jensen packing in a straightjacket. He goofed off on set, off set and well…he was just a fucking goofball in general. Seriously, what else was there to say about the guy? Jensen was watching the dude trying to mess with his doppelganger's head.

Dean shoved Misha's hand off him, looking at the actor like he was some rabid dog. "Dude, get the fuck off me."

"Sorry, Dean," Misha said in the 'Castiel' voice.

People on set liked to call it the 'Castiel' voice, with the capital 'C' and it sort of stuck. As Misha turned and walked over to Jensen and Jared, he had the biggest grin on his face that Jensen wondered if it hurt to grin like that. Dean straightened his leather jacket and motioned for Sam to follow his lead. The guy strapped to the chair looked confused as hell.

"Dude, what were you thinking?" Jensen asked.

Misha shrugged and admitted, "Was thinking it'd be fun. And trust me, it definitely was."

Jensen grinned. He didn't lie, it was.

"Okay, look. You may have heard of us. We're the Winchester brothers. I'm Dean and he's Sam."

"Yeah." Jensen turned his attention back to the front. The guy on the chair glanced briefly to the three. "And so are they back there and that guy's Castiel. What the fuck is going on?"

Dean ran a hand through his hair, huffed out an irritated sigh. "Look. Don't worry about those three. Okay? All you need to know is I'm the real Dean and he's the real Sam. And we're the ones asking the questions around here."

"What do you mean you're the real Dean and Sam? Then who the hell are those guys?"

Scratch those last thoughts on procedural cop shows. If this was a cop show, he would probably be glued to his couch for a long time. This was hilarious shit. Jensen could see the frustration running off Dean in waves, if he'd been animated, smoke would shooting out his nostrils by now.

"Dean, this isn't working," Sam said, ever the placating brother.

"Clearly. Okay, new game plan." Dean took out a knife from inside his jacket and put it to the guy's throat. "Now I'm sure you already noticed by now but your angel mojo don't work here, but you see this here knife? This here, jackass, is very real. And it hurts like a bitch. Trust me. So answer the damn questions or get your head chopped off. I'm good either way."

Wow. Jensen wasn't even sure if Dean was bluffing or not. He whistled lowly in appreciation. Jared caught in the rib. "What? I have a right to be impressed over my doppelganger's superior acting skills."

Misha sniggered like what Jensen said was funny, which it wasn't. Funny moment was over. This was serious shit. "Man, I been hanging with them the past day and take my word for it but they have no acting skills whatsoever."

"Come again?" Jensen said.

"Sam and Dean cannot act."

Jensen blinked, glancing over to where Dean was pushing the knife to the guy's throat, Sam standing back, arms crossed as he watched. He swallowed. "Shut your mouth."

The angel dude didn't know anything, or wouldn't tell them anything. Despite the ribs Misha gave to both Jared and Jensen about Dean's and Sam's…well lack of acting abilities, at least Dean hadn't turned all Friday the 13th on them. The guy was breathing, living, just, well Jensen wanted to be optimistic about this, really he did but he'd be lying if he said the guy was better off now than before they showed up.

"Well that was pointless," Sam said as they headed out of the building.

Dean shrugged as he stashed the knife back. "At least he won't be shooting any more people now."

"Yeah but we still have no idea what the angels are planning. Dean, for all we know the angels could be planning another apocalypse!"

"Nah, Cas, wouldn't let that happen."

"Just what this show needs. More apocalypse," Jensen piped in.

Dean shot a glare to him. "Dude, shut up."

"Sorry, touchy," Jensen said, not really sorry at all.

"Anyways, as I was saying, Sammy, Cas wants free will just as much as we do."

"Free to drink, free to smoke, free to take drugs, ahh, free will," Misha said.

"Dude. You shut up too. You aren't Cas," Dean grumbled.

"Free to be Me and You," Jared added. "Wasn't that an episode? Right, Ackles?"

"Nah dude, it was 'Free to be You and Me'. Get it right, jackass."

"Whatever. Me, you, you, me, potato, patato."

"How 'bout everyone just shut your goddamn mouths."

Brief pause. "You sound so much like Jensen it isn't even funny," Misha said.

Jensen shook his head as Dean scowled. "That's 'cos he's me. Technically. Sort of. You know what? I don't even know anymore."

"Come on, Sam. We're leaving this place. Now." The brothers stalked ahead, leaving the three actors to smirk at each other.

It wasn't much the farewell Jensen thought it'd be. Well he wasn't sure what he thought at this point. Maybe more beer and singing like at the conventions. Maybe more magic and angst like in the show. Who knew? When the three showed up to where the Winchesters ought to be, smashed window and everything, they were already gone and the cleaning crew had just started in the area.

There had been no smirk, no wave, no 'goodbye', not even a goddamn note. And when they revisited the set with the green screen, telling Kripke and the rest of the crew not to freak out at the sight when they opened the doors, they were met with an empty chair. No blood splatters, not a damn single drop. The angel freak was gone and Jensen, Jared and Misha were left looking a lot like crazy drunks.

And that was how Jensen wrote it off as: a drunk night with mad hallucinations. Jared and Misha and Jensen, they all promised not to bring it up again. After that, almost everything went back to normal. Misha still called his fans 'minions'. He still played crazy pranks and Jensen still wanted to throttle the dude sometimes. However something was different. Jensen and Jared. Well they weren't the Winchesters, never would be as close, but Jared didn't ignore him nearly as often as he did before. Jensen didn't shrug off his attempt at cracking jokes. At a recent convention, the silence wasn't as awkward and for the most part, they smiled and looked happy and friendly and overall, it was marked as one of the more fun conventions he had ever been to. So at least they were trying.

The incident was eventually forgotten…until the next time the Winchesters came back.

Thank you for sticking with me. I plan on making this into a small verse. It will be updated some more on AO3 under the username apokfan.