Changing Channels
Wellington, Ohio was shaping up to be some hunt. Apparently there had been some sort of vicious attack on a local man, something followed him from the woods and killed him in his house. Just their kind of thing.
Sam stepped out of the bathroom, buttoning up his suit to see Dean staring at the TV, wide eyed, mouth open, as he watched some sort of medical soap opera with rapt attention. He looked over to see Michelle sitting at a small table, shaking her head at Dean, as she jotted down something in her journal, one of her books open before her.
"What are you watching?" Sam asked.
"Hospital show," Dean replied, "'Dr. Sexy, MD.' I think it's based on a book."
"When did you hit menopause?" Sam shook his head at his brother.
"I asked the same thing," Michelle added.
"It's called channel surfing," Dean rolled his eyes.
"Yes Sam," Michelle looked up, smirking, "He's been 'channel surfing,'" she used quotey fingers for extra emphasis, "Since you stepped into the bathroom."
Sam laughed as Dean just turned off the TV and got up, "You ready?" Dean asked.
"Are you?" Sam countered.
Dean just grabbed his keys and headed out, Michelle and Sam following after him.
~8~
At the police station, they were currently trying to get some information out of an officer, who wasn't being all that helpful.
"One more time, the FBI is here why, exactly?" the officer asked, eyeing them.
"Might have something to do with one of your locals getting his head ripped off," Dean began.
"Bill Randolph died from a bear attack."
"How sure are you that it was a bear?" Sam asked.
"What else would it be?"
"Well, whatever it was chased Mr. Randolph through the woods, smashed through his front door, followed him up the stairs, and killed him in his bedroom," Michelle listed what they knew.
"Is that common, a bear doing all that?" Dean frowned as though he were seriously asking the man.
"Depends how pissed off it is, I guess," the man shrugged, "Look, the Randolphs live way up in high country. You got trout runs to make a grown man weep. And bears."
"Right," Sam nodded slowly, "Now, what about Mrs. Randolph? The file says she saw the whole thing."
"Yes, she did. My heart goes out to that poor woman."
"She said bear?" Michelle asked.
"Kathy Randolph went through a hell of a trauma. She's confused."
"What did she say?" Sam asked the man.
~8~
The officer called in Mrs. Randolph for them to speak too as they sat in the interview room across from her.
"No, it must have been a bear," the woman said, "I mean, what else could it have been?"
"Mrs. Randolph, what do you think it was?" Sam tried to get her to talk.
"No, I…I remember clearly now," she shook her head, "It was definitely a bear."
"We're sure it was," Dean replied slowly, glancing at Sam and Michelle, "But see, it helps us to hear every angle. So just tell us what you thought you saw."
"It's impossible, but..."
"Believe me Mrs. Randolph," Michelle said, reaching out to lay a hand on the woman's arm, "We have seen some pretty impossible things over the years."
She smiled a bit at Michelle before taking a breath, "I could have sworn I saw the 'Incredible Hulk.'"
They were not expecting that.
They blinked a few times.
"The Incredible Hulk…" Sam said slowly.
"I told you it was crazy," the woman muttered.
"Bana or Norton?" Dean smirked.
"Oh, no, those movies were terrible," she looked up, "The TV Hulk."
"Lou Ferrigno?"
"Yes."
"Spiky-hair Lou Ferrigno?"
"Yes."
"Huh…" Dean looked over at Sam and Michelle a moment.
"You think I'm crazy…"
"Actually, ma'am, we don't," Michelle reassured her, "There are some pretty sick individuals out there who will go to any lengths to try and avoid suspicion or identification, even stretching their attacks to the edge of reality."
Dean and Sam exchanged a look, this was very similar to what Michelle had once said to an Ed Brewster about copycat killers…one who ended up being a shapeshifter.
"No," Sam agreed, "We honestly don't."
"Now Mrs. Randolph, is there, uh, would there be any reason that Lou Ferrigno, the Incredible Hulk, would have a grudge against your husband?" Dean asked.
"No," she shook her head.
"No," Dean repeated. They nodded their thanks and got up, walking out of the room, "So what are we thinking? Another shapeshifter?"
Michelle frowned, "Not sure, I mean, it could be that, a psudeo-Leshi god, on top of a dozen other things."
Sam nodded, seeing that, "I guess we gotta check out the house, hope there's more to go on there."
~8~
Back in the motel room, Dean was on the laptop, looking up an article in the 'Wellington Guardian' about the 'Local Man Killed in Bear Attack,' while Michelle and Sam went to investigate the scene.
Just then the duo walked in, "Hey," Sam greeted.
"Find anything?" Dean asked, looking up.
"Well, uh, we saw the house."
"And…" Dean shook his head, waiting for him to continue.
"And there is a giant eight-foot-wide hole where the front door used to be," Michelle said.
"A Hulk-sized hole?"
Michelle shrugged.
"What do you got?" Sam asked.
"Well, it turns out that Bill Randolph had quite the temper," Dean sighed, "He's got two counts of spousal battery, bar brawls, and court-ordered anger management sessions. You might say you wouldn't like him when he's angry."
"So a hothead getting killed by TV's greatest hothead. Kinda sounds like just desserts, doesn't it? It's all starting to make sense."
"How is it starting to make sense?"
Sam glanced over at Michelle.
"We found something else at the crime scene," she said, pulling handfuls of candy wrappers out of her pocket.
"Candy wrappers," Sam said as she dropped them on the table, "Lots of them."
"Just desserts, sweet tooth, screwing with people before you kill 'em," Dean listed, "We're dealing with the Trickster, aren't we?"
"Looks like it," Michelle commented.
"Good," Dean nodded, standing up, "I've wanted to gank that mother since Mystery Spot."
"You sure?" Sam frowned.
"Yeah I'm sure."
"No, I mean are you sure you wanna kill him?"
"Son of a bitch didn't think twice about icing me a thousand times."
"No, I know, I mean, I'm just saying…"
"What are you saying? If you don't want to kill him, then what?"
"Talk to him?"
"What?"
"Think about it, Dean. He's one of the most powerful creatures we've ever met. Maybe we can use him."
"For what?"
"Ok, Trickster's like a Hugh Hefner type, right? Wine, women, song…maybe he doesn't want the party to end. Maybe he hates this angels-and-demons stuff as much as we do. Maybe he'll help us."
"You're serious," Dean raised an eyebrow at his brother, Michelle watching all this silently.
"Yeah."
"Ally with the Trickster?"
"Yeah."
"And we can't kill him," Michelle added.
"What do you mean 'we can't kill him?'" Dean looked over at her.
"The only way that we could get the Trickster to end the loop was me promising I wouldn't let you guys hunt and/or kill him."
Sam started to nod along, until he realized something. His eyes widened as the turned to her, "How did you know that?" he frowned, "You said you didn't remember those six months!"
Michelle tensed at her slip before looking over at him. She sighed, "I never said I didn't remember, I just…didn't say that I did."
"Come again?" Dean shook his head, confused.
"I'm sorry Sam," she turned to him, "You felt so bad about what happened after Dean died permanently, I didn't want you to feel like you had to make it up to me. You didn't want me to remember, so I didn't let you know that I did."
Sam stared at her a moment, "So…you remember…everything?" she nodded, "Even the…"
"Yeah," she said quickly. They had gotten very intimate during those six months, not quite to the final level of a physical relationship, but close.
He cleared his throat, "Right…" he nodded, she really hadn't exactly flat-out lied, sort of just let him assume, and even then, she'd done it for him. He turned back to Dean, who was watching the two of them curiously, "She basically promised the Trickster we'd leave him alone so he would bring you back."
"Ergo," Michelle added, "We can't kill him."
"You and your damn promises," Dean muttered to himself, shaking his head.
He could have very easily said that they were going to kill the Trickster anyway, but he…he respected her too much to do something that would break a promise she'd made. And…also…she'd probably beat them both to the ground if they even tried.
"A bloody, violent monster, and you wanna be Facebook friends with him?" he said louder, getting back to the conversation, "Nice."
"The world is gonna end, Dean," Sam argued, "We don't have the luxury of a moral stand. Look, I'm just saying it's worth a shot. That's all. If it doesn't work…" he shrugged, "We just…" he couldn't really think of something. He was as against doing something contrary to what Michelle promised as Dean seemed to be.
Dean sighed, "How are we gonna find the guy, anyway?"
"Well, he never takes just one victim, right? He'll show."
"And when he does?"
"How about we let me do the talking?"Michelle suggested, "He seems to like me more than you two."
The boys had to agree there.
~8~
Dean was sitting on the bed, sharpening a wooden stake, he'd assured Michelle that he wasn't planning on actually using it, but it would be better to be prepared. He reasoned they could maybe intimidate or threaten the Trickster a little, and, in the likely chance that the Trickster tried to kill them, they could fight back, then it would be self-defense.
Sam was sitting at the table, staring at a police scanner, while Michelle sat across from him, her head rested on her hand as she worked through a cuneiform passage.
"Um, dispatch?" a voice came over the scanner, "I…I got a possible 187 out here at the old paper mill on Route 6..."
"Hey!" Sam called to Dean who stopped working, Michelle looking up as well as they listened.
"Roger that," the dispatch replied, "What are you looking at there, son?"
"Honestly, Walt, I…I wouldn't even know how to describe what I'm seeing," the officer replied, "Just…send everybody."
"Alright, stay calm, stay by your car. Help's on the way."
Sam turned the scanner off as it went to static.
"That sounds weird," Dean commented.
"Weird enough to be our guy," Sam agreed.
And they were off, grabbing their coats and supplies and heading to the Impala, racing over to the paper mill, only to pull up to find it abandoned, not a car in sight.
"There was a murder here, and there's no police cars," Dean commented as they got out and walked to the trunk, "There's nobody. How's that look to you?"
"Crappy," Sam sighed.
"Like a trick," Michelle replied as Dean pulled out two stakes with blood on the end, handing one to Sam and keeping one for himself. Dean had also argued that, technically, he and Sam hadn't made the promise so they may be able to use that to scare the Trickster as well.
Which meant Michelle was left to man the flashlight.
They exchanged a look before heading to the building. Michelle threw open the door and they ran in…
Only to find themselves now in a bright hallway, wearing black clothes and white lab coats.
"What the hell?" Dean asked, looking around.
"Doctors," a blonde nurse greeted, nodding to them as she walked past with an Asian woman.
"Doctors," the Asian woman greeted as well.
"Doctors?" Sam asked, looking at Dean and Michelle.
Dean turned to the door they just came through and opened it, only to find a janitor's close with a man and woman making out inside. He quickly shut it, looking more than a little freaked. They turned to look back at the hallway, when a brunette doctor stormed over to them.
"Doctor," she greeted, a second before she slapped Sam.
Michelle and Dean's eyes widened at that.
"Ow!" Sam exclaimed.
"Seriously?"
"What?" he asked, looking just as confused as Dean and Michelle.
"Seriously?" the woman repeated, "You're brilliant, you know that? And a coward. You're a brilliant coward."
Sam glanced at Dean and Michelle before turning back to the woman, "Um…what are you talking about?"
She just slapped him again, "As if you don't know!"
And then she turned and stalked off, Dean gawking after her, looking as though one of his dreams had just come true.
"I don't believe this," Dean breathed.
"What?" Michelle asked.
"That's Dr. Piccolo," Dean grinned.
"Who?" Sam frowned, rubbing his jaw.
"Dr. Ellen Piccolo," Dean explained, walking forward slowly, "The sexy yet earnest doctor at…" he stopped and looked at a sign behind the receptionist desk, gesturing at it, "Seattle Mercy Hospital!"
"Dean," Michelle shook her head, "What the hell are you talking about?"
"The doctor getups. The…the sexy interns. The 'seriouslys.' It all makes sense!"
"What makes sense?" Sam asked, "What's going on?"
"We're in 'Dr. Sexy, MD,'" Dean said before shaking his head and leading them down one of the corridors, "Dude, what the hell…"
"I don't know."
"No, seriously, what the hell?"
"I don't know."
"One theory," Dean turned to them, looking at Michelle, "Any theory."
"Uh, the Trickster trapped us in TV Land?" Michelle tried, not sure what Dean wanted her to say.
"That's your theory?" he raised an eyebrow at her, "That's stupid."
"You're the one who said we're on 'Dr. Sexy, MD,'" she countered.
"Yeah, but TV land isn't TV Land. I mean, there's actors and...and lights and crew members, you know. This looks real."
"It can't be. How can this possibly be real?"
"I don't know."
"Doctors," the Asian doctor from before walked past, greeting them.
"There goes Dr. Wang," Dean commented, watching her go, "The sexy, but arrogant, heart surgeon…" she passed a man sitting on a gurney, "And there's Johnny Drake. Oh, he's not even alive, he's a ghost in the mind of…" a second brunette doctor entered and sat next to Johnny, "Of her. The sexy, yet neurotic, doctor over there."
Sam and Michelle exchanged amused glances at Dean's knowledge of the show, "So...this show has ghosts?" Sam began, "Why?"
"I don't know," Dean shrugged, "It is compelling."
"I thought you said you weren't a fan," Michelle quipped, eyebrow raised.
"I'm not," Dean defended, far too quickly to be believable, "I'm not…" he trailed off, seeing something, and staring, "Oh boy."
"What?" Sam frowned, looking around but not seeing what was so great.
"It's him," Dean breathed.
"Who?" Michelle shook her head.
"It's him, it's Dr. Sexy," Dean said, nodding at the man walking towards them.
Michelle's eyes narrowed a little at the manas she shook her head.
"Doctor," Dr. Sexy greeted, looking at Dean.
Dean looked down, hiding a smile, "Doctor."
He turned to Michelle, "Doctor."
"Doctor," she replied, rolling her eyes, having to remind herself that Dean and Sam couldn't see certain people the way she did.
"Doctor," and then to Sam, who just nodded till Dean whacked him.
"Doctor," Sam amended.
"You want to give me one good reason why you defied my direct order to do the experimental face transplant on Mrs. Biehl?" Dr. Sexy turned to Dean, serious.
Michelle nearly laughed at how Dean's expression went from awed to confused as he glanced at them and back, "One reason?" Dean asked, Dr. Sexy nodded, "Sure," he looked down a moment at Dr. Sexy's white tennis shoes before slamming him against the wall, "You're not Dr. Sexy."
"You're crazy."
"Really? Because I swore part of what makes Dr. Sexy sexy is the fact that he wears cowboy boots. Not tennis shoes."
"Yeah," Sam nodded slowly, highly amused.
"You're so not a fan," Michelle added sarcastically.
"It's a guilty pleasure," Dean shrugged.
"Call security," Dr. Sexy shouted.
"Yeah, go ahead, pal. See, we know who you are…"
Suddenly all the doctors and people in the hall froze. They glanced around to see that only they and Dr. Sexy were still able to move. They looked back at Dr. Sexy just as he morphed into the Trickster.
"You guys are getting better!" the Trickster grinned, "You didn't even need her…" he nodded at Michelle, "To point me out this time!"
"Get us the hell out of here," Dean demanded.
"Or what?" the Trickster countered, grabbing Dean's arm and twisting it, hurting him, "Don't say you have wooden stakes, big guy."
"That was you on the police scanner, right?" Michelle cut in, distracting the Trickster enough to let go of Dean.
"This is a trick," Sam said.
"Hello?" the man rolled his eyes, "Trickster. Come on! I heard you two yahoos were in town. How could I resist?"
"Where the hell are we?" Dean asked.
"Like it?" he grinned, "It's all homemade. My own sets…" he rapped on the window in a nearby door, then gestured at the people, "My own actors...call it my own little idiot box."
"How do we get out?"
"That, my friend, is the 64-dollar question."
"Whatever," Sam shook his head, "We just…we need to talk to you. We need your help."
"Hmm, let me guess, you two muttonheads broke the world and you want me to sweep up your mess?" he scoffed, "You really need to listen to the princess here," he nodded at Michelle again, "It really is like 'Bruce Almighty,' you break it, you bought it. You make the mess, you clean it."
"Please," Sam tried again, "Just five minutes. Hear us out."
"Sure," he smirked, "Tell you what. Survive the next 24 hours, we'll talk."
"Survive what?" Michelle asked.
"The game!"
"What game?" Dean demanded.
"You're in it."
"How do we play?"
"You're playing it."
"What are the rules?"
The Trickster just raised his eyebrows, grinning, before he vanished in a burst of static, the extras coming to life again.
"Oh, son of a bitch," Dean grumbled.
"Dr. Sexy?" a blonde doctor called, looking around, "Dr. Sexy?"
She walked past them and they continued down the hall after her, "Oh, by the way," Dean huffed, "Talking with monsters? Hell of a plan."
"Just…what do we do now?" Sam cut in, not wanting to hear it.
"You know what I'm doing?" Dean glared at him, "Leaving."
Dr. Piccolo suddenly appeared and swung at Sam once more who, having learned his lesson, ducked out of the way…only to hide behind Michelle, holding her in front of him as though she were a shield.
"Lady, what the hell?" he called from behind her.
"You are a brilliant, brilliant…" the woman began.
"Yeah," Sam rolled his eyes, "A coward. You already said that. But I got news for you. I am not a doctor."
"Don't say that," the woman began to tear up, "You are the finest cerebrovascular neurosurgeon I have ever met, and I have met plenty. So that girl died on your table. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anybody's fault. Sometimes people just die."
Sam stared at her a moment, "I have no idea what you're saying to me."
"You're afraid," she tried to smile, but started to sob, "You're afraid to operate again. And you're afraid to love!" she rushed off down the hall, leaving the trio standing there.
Michelle started laughing.
"You are enjoying this far too much," Sam commented as he stepped past her, to her side once more.
"Can you blame me?" she smirked, this was hysterical.
"Yeah, we're getting out of here," Sam began to walk again, Dean and Michelle walking on either side of him a step behind.
"Hey," a man called, "Doctor."
Dean stopped and turned to him, "Yeah?"
"My wife needs that face transplant…"
"Ok," Dean huffed, "You know what, pal? None of this is real and your wife doesn't need jack squat. Ok?"
They turned and continued walking, not noticing the man pulling out a gun.
"Hey, doctor," the man called, shooting Dean in the back.
Dean stared after the man as he walked into his wife's room before falling to his knees, "Real…it's real…"
"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no…hey!" Sam shouted, grabbing Dean's one arm as Michelle grabbed another, "We need a doctor!"
~8~
Dean was face down on an operating table, staring through the headrest at the pairs of white tennis shoes of the various doctors and nurses while Sam and Michelle stood on either side of him, dressed in scrubs, wearing gloves, clearly about to perform the surgery on him.
Sam glanced up at Michelle, only to see Dr. Piccolo watching them through the glass window of the door. He shook his head and looked back down at Dean's injury where Michelle was holding a sort of gauze to soak up the blood. He turned and handed the tweezers he was holding to another doctor.
"BP is 80 over 50 and dropping," the blonde nurse informed them.
"Doctor," Dr. Wang held out a scalpel to Sam, who just stared at it.
"What?" Sam asked as two other doctors exchanged looks.
"Sam," Dean hissed, "Do something. Come on."
"I don't know how to use any of this crap," Sam whispered back to him.
"Figure it out," Dean grumbled.
Sam stood up and just grinned awkwardly at the doctors.
Michelle just rolled he eyes and reached for the scalpel, "Just let me do it," but as soon as her hand touched the metal the scalpel shocked her, "Ow!" she jumped, not expecting that.
"You're here for observation only doctor," Dr. Wang told her, her tone sounding more like she was trying to quietly remind her of something, like she was about to break character.
Michelle frowned and looked over at Sam.
"Come on," Dean tried again, "I'm waiting."
"I don't think I'm allowed to do it for you," Michelle mumbled, frowning as she thought, "But I should still be able to help, point things out, maybe?"
Sam could only shrug, it was better than nothing. He turned to the other doctors, "Ok. Um…I need a penknife, some dental floss, a sewing needle, and a fifth of whiskey," the other doctors stared at him. He looked over at Michelle who mouthed 'stat,' he nodded, "Stat!"
Everyone jumped into action.
~8~
The surgery went smoothly. The Kentucky Bourbon was nearly completely drained between Sam and Dean taking swigs from it. There was a roll of dental floss next to some surgical tools. Sam's hands were a bit bloody but there was no such mess that would suggest Dean was dying rapidly.
"Now gently snip the end," Michelle was saying as Sam followed her instruction, much like he had for the entire procedure. He snipped off the extra floss and put the tools down.
"We ok?" Dean asked, "How's it looking?"
"Yep," Sam smiled.
"You'll be fine," Michelle added, grinning.
Sam looked over at her, catching sight of Dr. Piccolo mouthing 'I love you' from behind the window. He just shook his head and looked back at Michelle who, having seen that, was biting her bottom lip to keep from laughing.
~8~
They heard clapping first, then shouts, and then they found themselves in a Japanese game show. Sam and Dean were both wearing their regular outfits and looking around quickly as Michelle wasn't with them. They nearly heaved with relief at seeing her sitting across from them, in the front row of the audience.
She looked equally confused till the host, a Japanese man, shouted something she understood to be 'Let's play Nutcracker!'
"Oh boy," she started laughing, trying to hide it behind her hand.
She looked at Sam and Dean, who were both standing on a sort of platform, their shoes glued to it, with a slot for a pole with a large ball on the end stationed between their feet. There was an LED screen next to Sam that had a large digital 20 on it, a timer.
The host said something too quickly for her to grasp before turning to Sam, "Sam Winchester," he said, and then continuing in Japanese.
Michelle frowned as the man asked Sam, 'What was the name of the demon you chose over your own brother?'
And then the countdown started.
"What?" Sam asked, looking over at Michelle, knowing she had at least a passable knowledge of Japanese, having spent the summer before her parents died there with them.
"He said…" she started to speak but suddenly found herself speaking in Japanese, "Crap, I can't tell you!"
"What am I supposed to say?"
"You think I know?" Dean shot back, joining in.
"Uh, I…I don't…I don't understand Japanese," Sam turned to the host.
The host just repeated the question.
"Is he screwing with me?" he looked over at Michelle, "I…I…I can't speak Japanese!"
"I know a little," she said, "But…" she shook her head, not knowing what to do.
The timer hit 0. A buzzer went off.
'The answer is…' Michelle heard the Host say, 'Ruby!'
"The answer is Ruby," she translated for them, "Oh, now I can help right?!" she asked, looking up at the ceiling.
"I'm sorry, Sam Winchester," the host said, in English.
"Sorry?" Sam frowned, "Sor...for what?" the host just smiled and mimed hiding his laughter, "Dean?" Sam looked at him, a moment before the pole on his platform came crashing up, whacking him in the crotch with the ball.
Dean looked horrified while the crowd cheered, Michelle biting her lip once again.
"Nutcracker!" the host shouted as a screen repeated the scene in several angles, "Nutcracker!"
"Sam?" Dean asked in concern.
Sam couldn't speak, just grunt and groan as he held himself, hunched over.
One of the Japanese women helping the host said something and he walked over.
"What the hell?!" Dean turned to Michelle, seeing an opening.
"I don't know," she shook her head, "I can't translate the question for you! It's…it's like how I wasn't allowed to do the surgery. I can help you, but I can't do it for you."
"Great," Dean rolled his eyes and turned back to Sam, "You ok?"
Sam just looked at him. He looked down at Sam's platform, then his own, seeing a similar setup and cringed.
The lights over the door started to flash.
"Oh now what?" Dean grumbled.
The doors opened to reveal Castiel, the crowd went nuts.
"Cas?!" Michelle shouted, standing.
"Is this another trick?" Sam asked.
"It's me," Castiel assured them, frowning, as he looked at them, "Uh, what are you doing here?"
"Us?" Dean asked, "What are you doing here?"
"Looking for you. You've been missing for days."
"So get us the hell out of here then!" Sam shouted.
"Let's go," Castiel raised his arms to use his powers, when he suddenly vanished in a burst of static.
"Cas?!" Michelle called, worried.
"No, no, no, no," the host said, storming back on stage, "Mr. Trickster does not like pretty-boy angels," he pulled out another card and turned to Dean, "Dean Winchester," and continued to, once again, speak Japanese.
Michelle frowned at the question, 'Would your mother and father still be alive...if your brother was never born?'
"Countdown!" the host called again, the clock began to tick down.
"What do I do?" Dean asked Michelle then turned to Sam, "What do I do?"
"What?" Sam shook his head.
"I don't wanna get hit in the nuts!"
"I don't know, I…I…uh, just, uh…wait…" Sam looked up.
"What?" Dean turned to him.
"I played a doctor."
"What?"
"In, uh, in 'Dr. Sexy' I played a doctor. I operated."
"So?"
"So I played the role the Trickster wanted me to play," Sam explained, glancing over at Michelle, "It's why you couldn't do it, it had to be me, it was MY role. You helped me through it, but I had to do it," he turned back to Dean, "Maybe we should just go along with it."
"Go along with what?"
"With the game!" Michelle shouted, catching on, "You're on a game show, right? So just answer the question!"
"In Japanese?" Dean turned to her.
"Yes!"
"I don't know Japanese!"
"I can't give you the question but I can start the answer," Michelle shouted, finally figuring out how she could help.
Dean turned and quickly hit a button next to him, the countdown froze moments before the buzz. He turned to Michelle, who said something in Japanese. He gave her a look, she sent him one back and slowly said it again. Realizing it must be the beginning of the answer, he repeated it.
'The answer is…'
He looked at her again, she shrugged, she'd tried shouting the answer before but it cut off before she could say yes or no.
"Yes?" Dean frowned, shaking his head.
Michelle decided she was never going to tell Dean what he'd just answered. It was best for everyone.
The host turned to Dean, eyeing him a moment before shouting something in Japanese. Dean braced himself but Michelle just smiled, at the host's announcement, 'Dean Winchester, Nutcracker champion!'
The crowd started to cheer.
"So that's it," Sam nodded, "We play our roles, we survive."
"Yeah, but play our roles for how long?" Dean asked.
"Good question," Michelle called.
Dean looked back at her and the audience, before forcing a grin and waving.
~8~
The herpes commercial was hysterical to everyone but Sam, who had to be the one to play that part. Sam hadn't been very willing to say that he had genital herpes, but Dean had just reminded him that he was the one who said they had to play the parts, not to mention Michelle was stuck playing his girlfriend in the commercial, so she was at his side, being supportive anyway.
He'd had to talk about how he took Herpexia to reduce his chances of spreading it. Dean had gotten to do a voiceover announcement of the risks involved before Sam had a close-up, saying that it was a good thing he was doing, trying to slightly lessen the spread of genital herpes.
Michelle had had a hard time keeping a straight face when she turned to Sam after it was over and thanked him for being so considerate.
~8~
Dean was putting some things in a refrigerator of their hotel room, now decorated in very vibrant colors, reminiscent of a 60s show. He closed the door and turned around to applause, eyeing a sandwich about a foot tall on the table.
"I'm gonna need a bigger mouth," he said as a laugh track played. Sam and Michelle entered the room from the door and Dean turned to them, "Hey there guys. What's happening?"
"Oh, nothing," Sam shrugged, "Um. Just the end of the world," there was another laugh track as they saw the sandwich.
"You're gonna need a bigger mouth," they said at once, before smiling at each other, as the laugh track played again.
"Hey, uh, have you done your research yet?" Sam turned to Dean.
Dean made a 'busted' expression, cuing more laugh track, "Oh, yeah. All kinds of research. All night."
"Yeah?"
Just then the bathroom door opened to reveal a woman in a bikini, wolf whistles sounded from the audience, "Oh, Dean..." Sam and Michelle glanced at her as Dean turned around, caught, "We have some more research to do."
Michelle crossed her arms, "Dean…" she gave him a disapproving look, more laughs.
"Son of a bitch!" Dean turned to the audience, earning more laughs.
Sam sighed and walked over to the woman, glaring at Dean over his shoulder, "Uh, I am really, really, very sorry, but, uh, we've got some work to do," he escorted her to the door.
"But we did do work!" the woman said as she looked at Dean, passing him, "In depth."
There was a laugh track as Dean waved at her as she left. Sam shut the door and turned to shake his head at Dean.
"How long do we have to keep doing this?" Dean asked them quietly through a forced smile.
"I don't know," Michelle replied to applause.
"Maybe forever?" Sam added, getting laughs, "We might die in here."
There was another round of laughter.
"How was that funny?" Dean turned to the audience, breaking character, "Vultures!"
There was a laugh track, before the door burst open and Castiel ran in, minor injuries on his face, there was applause.
"You ok?" Dean turned to the man.
"I don't have much time," Castiel began.
"Cas what happened?" Michelle's eyes widened, seeing him like that.
"I got out."
"From where?" Sam asked.
"Listen to me. Something is not right. This thing is much more powerful than it should be."
"What thing…the Trickster?" Dean frowned.
"If it is a Trickster," Castiel replied, glancing at Michelle.
"What do you mean?" Sam asked.
Suddenly Castiel was flung backwards into the wall, falling to the floor, as the Trickster appeared in the doorway.
"Hello!" he shouted, getting rounds of applause and cheers. Castiel stood, his mouth now duct-taped shut, "Thank you. Thank you, ladies," Castiel glared at him, the Trickster turned and smiled at him, "Hi, Castiel!" Castiel's eyes widened in recognition as the Trickster waved his hand, disappearing Castiel in a burst of static.
"You know him?" Sam asked.
"Where did you just send him?" Dean glared.
"Relax, he'll live," the Trickster waved them off, "...maybe."
Laugh track.
"Alright, you know what?" Dean ground out, "I am done with the monkey dance, ok? We get it."
"Yeah?" he raised an eyebrow, "Get what hotshot?"
"Playing our roles, right? That's your game?"
"That's half the game."
"What's the other half?" Sam frowned.
"Play your roles out there," he nodded towards the door.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean eyed him.
"Oh, you know," he shrugged, "Sam starring as Lucifer. Dean starring as Michael. Your celebrity death match. Play your roles."
"You want us to say 'yes' to those sons of bitches?" Sam gaped.
"Hells yeah," he smirked, "Let's light this candle!"
"We do that, the world will end!"
"Yeah?" he raised an eyebrow, "And whose fault is that? Who popped Lucifer out of the box? Hmm?"
"Jake Talley," Michelle replied forcefully, taking Sam's hand in her own, "Yes, Sam came close, but he did not kill Lilith."
The Trickster rolled his eyes, "Technicalities. Look, it's started. It can't be stopped. So let's get it over with!"
Sam glared at him.
"Heaven or Hell, which side you on?" Dean asked.
"I'm not on either side," the Trickster replied.
"Yeah, right," Dean scoffed, "You're grabbing ankle for Michael or Lucifer. Which one is it?"
"You listen to me, you arrogant dick," the Trickster began, his expression becoming hard, "I don't work for either of those S.O.B.s. Believe me."
"Oh, you're somebody's bitch."
Suddenly the Trickster grabbed Dean by the shirt and slammed him into the wall, "Don't you ever, ever presume to know what I am."
"Stop!" Michelle rushed forward, coming to stand beside the men, "Please…" she looked at the Trickster, getting his attention, "Let him go."
The Trickster eyed her a long moment before smirking, "You always were my favorite, princess," he shoved Dean as he let go and took a step back to stand between the brothers, "Now listen very closely. Here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna suck it up, accept your responsibilities, and play the roles that destiny has chosen for you."
"And if we don't?" Sam asked, going to stand by his brother and Michelle.
The Trickster grinned, "Then you'll stay here. In TV Land. Forever. Three hundred channels and, uh, nothing's on."
He snapped his fingers.
~8~
They were standing in a park, at night, a man lying on the ground with a stomach wound, dead, as other police officers investigated the crime scene, surrounding him, taking pictures. The trio was standing outside the scene, wearing black suits with matching blue shirts and sunglasses. Michelle laughed, pushing her glasses on top of her head.
"Oh, come on," Dean commented, looking around.
A police officer ducked under the crime scene tape and walked over to them, "So, what do you think?"
"What do I think?" Dean turned to glare at the man, "I think go screw yourself, that's what I think."
"Uh, could you give us a sec, please?" Sam said to the officer, who nodded and turned away, "Thanks."
"You gotta calm down Dean," Michelle told him.
"Calm down?" Dean rounded on her, "I am wearing sunglasses at night," he yanked them off, "You know who does that? No-talent douchebags."
Sam nodded as Michelle pulled his glasses off.
"I hate this game," Dean grumbled, "I hate that we're in a procedural cop show and you wanna know why? Because I hate procedural cop shows. There's like three hundred of them on television and they're all the freaking same. It's ooh, plane crashed here…oh shut up."
"Hey," Sam cut in, his gaze focused on the crime scene.
"What is it?" Michelle asked, looking at the scene as well, not sure what Sam was getting at.
"Check out sweet tooth over there," Sam nodded towards the same officer as before, sucking a lollypop.
"Think that's him?" Dean asked after a moment.
"Just, um, follow my lead," Sam replied. He headed towards the body, Dean and Michelle following, the boys putting their sunglasses back on as the crime-scene tape raised to let them under.
"You, uh, you ok?" the officer eyed Dean.
"Yeah," he nodded, "What do we got?"
The officer knelt next to the body, "Well, aside from the ligature marks around his neck, he has what appears to be a roll of quarters jammed down his throat."
Dean pulled off his sunglasses and got out a flashlight, kneeling next to the body to take a closer look as Sam also took off his glasses, Michelle rolling her eyes at the two of them.
"Well I say, jackpot," Sam replied.
The officer looked up at him, snorting in amusement.
Sam went to put his glasses back on when Michelle reached out and took them, it was a bit too much.
"Also, there is a stab wound to the lower abdomen," the officer continued, indicating the bloodstain with his lollypop.
Dean grabbed a thick stick and poked at the hole in the shirt with it, getting blood on the stick and putting his sun glasses back on as well, "Well I say, no guts, no glory."
The officer laughed.
"Get that guy a Tums," Sam continued.
"Gutter ball," Dean finished.
The officer just kept laughing, "Good one, guys."
Dean stepped around behind the officer with the stick, stabbing the man as he turned around, straight through the heart. The man collapsed to the ground, struggling to breathe as the other extras continued on their duties, not noticing…save one, who started laughing and morphed into the Trickster.
"You've got the wrong guy, idiots," the Trickster commented.
"Did we?" Dean asked as Sam staked the Trickster from behind. He fell over in a burst of static, morphing the area into an old abandoned warehouse where they'd first disappeared. They stared down at the Trickster, lying on the ground, stake through him.
Michelle looked up at the boys, who were smirking down at the man, proud, and just shook her head, amused…boy would they be in for a surprise…
~8~
Dean was standing in the motel room bathroom, finishing brushing his teeth and spitting into the sink. The room was dimmer than it had been in the 60s sitcom.
"I'm worried, man," Dean said, "What that SOB did to Cas. You know, where is he?" there was no response, "Sam?"
"Not here," Michelle replied.
Dean spun around to see that the room was empty, save for himself and Michelle.
"Where the hell is he?" he asked her, she could only shrug.
He sighed and grabbed his jacket, heading out of the room, Michelle following after as he headed to the Impala, his phone now at his ear, "It's Sam," Sam's voicemail picked up, "Leave me a message."
Dean glanced at Michelle as they got in the car, "Sam. It's me. Where the hell did you go?" he snapped the phone shut when…
"Dean?" Sam's voice called, sounding odd, almost pixely.
"Sam?" Michelle frowned, "Where are you?"
"I don't know," Sam replied. They looked down to see a red light flashing on the dashboard, much like 'Knight Rider,' flashing in time with Sam's words, "Oh crap. I don't think we killed the Trickster."
~8~
The Impala, now with flashing red lights under the front grille, sped down the highway, Dean at the wheel.
"Ok, stake didn't work," Dean let out a breath, "So, what, this is another trick?"
"I don't know," Sam replied, "Maybe the stake didn't work because it's not a Trickster?"
"What do you mean?" Michelle asked, stiffening every so slightly.
"You heard Cas. He said this thing was too powerful to be a Trickster."
Dean started to nod, "And did you notice the way he looked at Cas? Almost like he knew him."
"And how pissed he got when you brought up Michael and Lucifer."
"Son of a bitch," Dean ground out.
"What?" Sam and Michelle asked, Michelle looking over at him.
"I think I know what we're dealing with," Dean replied, turning to Michelle, "Would I be right in saying holy oil would be useful?"
She hesitated a moment before she nodded, "It's in the trunk."
~8~
Michelle kept a lookout as Dean rummaged in the trunk of the car, "Dean?" Sam called.
"What?" Dean asked.
"That, uh, feels really uncomfortable," Sam replied, Dean shut the trunk, "Ow. You sure this is gonna work?"
"No, but I have no other ideas," Dean grumbled before stepping in the front of the car and shouting at the sky, "Alright, you son of a bitch! Uncle! We'll do it!"
"Should I honk?" Sam asked after a moment.
"Wow," the Trickster said, walking up to them, "Sam. Get a load of the rims on you."
"Eat me."
"Ok, boys, ready to go quietly?"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, not so fast," Dean cut in, "Nobody's going anywhere until Sam has opposable thumbs."
"What's the difference?" the Trickster shrugged, "Satan's going to ride his ass one way or another."
"Please," Michelle asked.
The Trickster looked over at her a moment, before rolling his eyes, "Only for you princess," and snapped his fingers. Suddenly the lights of the car went out and Sam stepped out of it, "Happy?" he asked her.
"Very," she smiled as Sam stepped up to them and took her hand in his.
"Tell me one thing," Dean cut in, "Why didn't the stake kill you?"
"I am the Trickster," he reminded.
"Or maybe you're not," Dean smirked as Sam held up a flaming lighter and tossed it down, a ring of fire springing up around the Trickster, "Maybe you've always been an angel."
The Trickster looked incredulous and then started laughing, "A what? Somebody slip a mickey in your power shake, kid?"
"I'll tell you what. You just jump out of the holy fire and we'll call it our mistake."
The Trickster laughed but then stopped, knowing he was caught, there was a burst of static and suddenly…
They boys looked around at the warehouse they were now standing in, while Michelle just kept her focus on the Trickster.
He turned to Michelle, "Way to keep a promise princess."
She shrugged, "They didn't hunt you, you came to them, and technically, they aren't killing you."
It was a stretch at the best. The holy oil would only permanently kill the vessel, not the angel within. Only an angel could kill an angel, it was why she hadn't tried to stop the boys from believing he was really a Trickster, whatever they tried that should kill one, wouldn't work. He'd be safe, her promise would be kept.
He smirked, "Twisting your words, I'm impressed."
"I learned from the best."
He laughed at that before turning to Sam and Dean, "Well played, boys and girls," he clapped, "Well played. Where'd you get the holy oil?"
"Well, you might say we pulled it out of Sam's ass," Dean remarked.
The Trickster looked at them as Sam gave his brother a withering look, "Where'd I screw up?"
"You want the list?" Michelle raised an eyebrow.
"You didn't," Sam rolled his eyes at her, both brothers were fairly certain he must have been able to trick her into not seeing his wings like she could with every other angel, he was certainly powerful and resourceful enough, "Nobody gets the jump on Cas like you did."
"Mostly it was the way you talked about Armageddon," Dean added.
"Meaning?" he shook his head.
"Well, call it personal experience, but nobody gets that angry unless they're talking about their own family."
"So which one are you?" Sam cocked his head, "Grumpy, Sneezy, or Douchey?"
"Gabriel," answered a quiet voice from beside them. Both brothers looked over at Michelle, surprise evident in their eyes, "He's Gabriel."
They looked at the angel to see if she was correct, "Gabriel? The archangel?"
"Guilty," he smirked.
Dean shook his head, not even bothering to ask Michelle how she knew that. It was probably some archaic reference in one of the versions of the Bible she'd read that gave her some sort of idea about it once they'd figured out he was an angel and not a Trickster. He just didn't want to get into that whole lecture right now, "Ok, Gabriel. How does an archangel become a Trickster?"
"My own private witness protection," he smiled, "I skipped out of Heaven, had a face transplant, carved out my own little corner of the world. Till you two screwed it all up," now he was glaring at the boys.
"What did daddy say when you ran off and joined the pagans?"
"Daddy doesn't say anything about anything."
"Then what happened?" Sam shook his head, "Why'd you ditch?"
"Do you blame him?" Dean glanced at Sam before looking back at Gabriel, "I mean, his brothers are heavyweight douchenozzles."
"Dean!" Michelle chastised.
"Shut your cakehole," Gabriel glared at him, "You don't know anything about my family. I love my father, my brothers. Love them. But watching them turn on each other? Tear at each other's throats? I couldn't bear it! Ok? So I left. And now it's happening all over again."
"Then help us stop it," Sam pleaded.
"It can't be stopped," Gabriel stated.
"You wanna see the end of the world?" Dean frowned.
"I want it to be over!" he exclaimed, the utter exhaustion and pain at the whole situation evident in his voice, "I have to sit back and watch my own brothers kill each other thanks to you two! Heaven, Hell, I don't care who wins, I just want it to be over."
"It doesn't have to be like that," Michelle replied quietly.
Gabriel looked at her curiously for a moment, when Sam spoke up, "There has to be some way to...to pull the plug."
Gabriel laughed at that, "You do not know my family. What you guys call the Apocalypse, I used to call Sunday dinner. That's why there's no stopping this, because this isn't about a war. It's about two brothers that loved each other and betrayed each other. You'd think you'd be able to relate."
"What are you talking about?"
"You sorry sons of bitches," Gabriel whistled, "Why do you think you two are the vessels?"
They were quiet for a moment, clearly neither of them could fathom a guess.
Michelle sighed, "Michael, the big brother, loyal to an absent father, and Lucifer, the little brother, rebellious of his father's plan."
The brothers looked at her in shock, seeing the truth and their resemblance in that statement.
"You were born to this, boys," Gabriel confirmed, "It's your destiny! It was always you!"
"'As it is in Heaven, so it must be on Earth,'" Michelle quoted.
Gabriel nodded, looking between the boys, "One brother has to kill the other."
"What the hell are you saying?" Dean demanded.
"Why do you think I've always taken such an interest in you? Because from the moment dad flipped on the lights around here, we knew it was all gonna end with you. Always."
There was a long pause as Sam and Dean looked down and then at each other, Michelle not looking anywhere but at Gabriel as they worked out exactly what had been said.
"No," Dean shook his head, "That's not gonna happen."
"I'm sorry," Gabriel frowned, "But it is," he sighed after a moment, "Guys. I wish this were a TV show. Easy answers, endings wrapped up in a bow...but this is real, and it's gonna end bloody for all of us. That's just how it's gotta be," when they didn't say anything for a while he shifted, "So. Now what? We stare at each other for the rest of eternity?"
"Well, first of all, you're gonna bring Cas back from wherever you stashed him," Dean snapped himself out of his thoughts.
"Oh am I?" he snorted.
"Yeah," Dean glared, "Or we're going to dunk you in some holy oil and deep-fry ourselves an archangel," Gabriel returned the glare, but snapped his fingers anyway. Castiel appeared beside them and Dean turned to face him, "Cas, you ok?"
"I'm fine," Castiel replied, nodding at the trapped angel, "Hello, Gabriel."
"Hey, bro," Gabriel smirked, "How's the search for daddy going? Let me guess. Awful."
Castiel glared at him.
"Ok, we're out of here," Dean nodded, turning to walk away, "Come on, Sam."
"Uh, ok..." Gabriel drawled slowly, "Guys?" Sam just turned to follow Dean, "So…so what? Huh?" Castiel walked away as well, "You're just gonna...you're gonna leave me here forever?"
Dean stopped at the door to the warehouse and turned around, "This isn't about some prize fight between your brothers or about some destiny that can't be stopped," he nearly shouted at the man, "This is about you being too afraid to stand up to your family!" Gabriel glared at him as Dean took a breath, looking over to see Michelle, still standing before the angel, "Michelle you coming?!"
She looked over her shoulder at him, "I'll be there in a minute Dean, there are some things I want to say to him first."
Dean turned to rest against the door with Sam and Castiel.
"Alone," she added.
Dean stiffened, trying to stare her down. But soon enough he realized two things, she was serious...and she could kick all three of their asses if they didn't leave. He nodded and turned, motioning for Sam and Castiel to walk out with him, trusting that Michelle was about to let the angel have it as she had with Raphael.
Once the door was shut and Michelle was certain that the three weren't listening, she turned back to the angel.
"You knew it was me all along, didn't you?" he asked her.
She nodded, "When I saw you in the Mystery Spot, I thought you were an angel that just got stuck in the loop too. But then when I found out you were the one controlling it, I worked it out that you were an archangel."
"But how'd you know which one?" he frowned, he was so sure he'd covered all his tracks.
She smiled softly, "Only an archangel has the power to do what you did, create a perpetual reality. Some angels can create a temporary one, lasting a few days, but archangels can keep them going indefinitely. And, as far as I knew, there was only one archangel on Earth."
He stared at her a moment, before clapping, "You are a smart one."
She rolled her eyes at him before getting serious, "There is another way out of the Apocalypse."
He frowned again, "No, there isn't. I've lived through too many. They all end the same way."
She smiled a bit, "But those times you didn't have me working on it."
His brow furrowed as he looked at her, "What do you mean?"
"Let's just say," she paused, "I have a theory and...if it's right...it ends well for all of you," he scoffed, "No, I mean, ALL of you."
He stopped and stared at her, seeing the seriousness in her eyes. Given her track record, he didn't doubt that she might actually have something cooking in that brain of hers, "You are something else princess."
"Don't I know it," she mumbled, before sighing and looking up for a moment at the fire sprinklers above them, "Dean doesn't want you free," he rolled his eyes, expecting that, "But I can't really keep you like this so..." she walked over to the door, pulling the lever for the sprinklers, turning them on, watching as they slowly starting to extinguish the flames.
He looked down, seeing the last of the flames die out, before focusing on her again, "Thanks."
She smiled, "No problem," she turned and opened the door to see Sam and Dean sitting in the Impala, waiting for her, Castiel nowhere to be seen. She glanced over her shoulder to see Gabriel still standing there, watching her.
"See you later princess," he smirked.
She nodded, "See you around Uncle Gabe."
A/N: OH SNAP! Uncle Gabe? Is it just an affectionate nickname since she's been able to see angels all her life? Like how he calls her princess? Has Gabriel been a part of her life like Castiel has? Or…is there something else going on here?
Here's the thing, you guys figured out that there's something off about Michelle's story with her name and Miles J Davidson, you've put out some theories that Michelle just might be half-angel...so...IF Miles isn't her real father and IF Gabriel is her uncle literally…then who IS her father? All I'm saying is that, well, angels CAN travel in time and she did have an awfully strong connection to Jesse, didn't she? Castiel himself firmly believes she has every right to be resentful of Heaven and Anna remembers her birth, which is NOT something to be happy about...and I mentioned before, she has been lying about quite a lot...could she be lying about claiming she's named after her father to throw certain Hunters off? Hmmm...
I have to say though, that was quite unlike Michelle to slip up like that, letting Sam know she remembered the 6 months, wasn't it? Sam will definitely start to notice her slip ups and lies much more than before as she will be slipping up more and more. Strange. I suppose it's because...she really has a lot more on her mind than you'd think in just dealing with the Apocalypse. But what?