Stepping into the Real
This story is inspired by a wonderful live journal entry by Cherry Scott that opened my eyes to the interesting concept of TV crossing over into the real world. This is not, by any means, an original concept but just my take on it. Enjoy!
I don't own Supernatural or its characters and I don't own Jared or Jensen either – damn!!
Sam Winchester felt the hands around his throat tighten and he struggled for breath, his hands scrabbling at the long nails, his head turning away from the foul breath, across the warehouse he could hear his brother calling his name frantically and he barked out Dean's name hoarsely, his voice harsh and choked, he felt the world go black for a moment and he fought against it, forcing his eyes open, tears stinging as he tried to focus "Sam?" he felt Dean's hands on his face and heard, rather than saw the concern in his voice "Sam it's ok Dude, it's dead – Sam stay with me bro – open your eyes" Dean's face wavered into view and Sam forced himself to breath more evenly, his heart pounding in his chest, he watched his brother, watched the emotions that played across his face and, suddenly, he began to feel that something was wrong, something strange was happening, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it, he reached up and gripped Dean's shirt, his long fingers curling around the material, his throat working frantically. Dean seemed to be looking at him expectantly, his eyes willing him to say something, do something and Sam couldn't think straight, he looked up into his brother's eyes, gasping for breath again, his chest tight, Dean was beginning to look angry, impatient, then, strangely, a little amused "Christ Jared" he hissed suddenly "Say the fucking line" Sam's vision blurred again and, as he blacked out, he heard a loud voice shout "Cut"
Jared Padalecki opened his eyes and squinted, it seemed unnaturally dark on set and eerily quiet, no shouting, no camera noise, nothing; it smelt funny too, sort of dank and dirty, not the normal 'set' smell. Beside him, Jensen was on his knees, his hands working franticly on Jared's chest, pulling at his shirt
"Sammy – don't do this bro – stay with me" Jared winced, that wasn't the line, he opened his eyes wider and, for the first time in his life, felt real, tangible fear.
The warehouse was huge, dark and oppressive. He was lying in a cold puddle of water, his throat felt hoarse, his chest tight; he gulped and tried to sit up, feeling his head spin and his vision blur.
"Sam – are you ok?" Jensen still seemed to be in character, oblivious to the change in their surroundings "Can you walk?"
"I think so" his voice sounded thin, harsh "Give me a minute" he pushed himself up, leaning against Jensen for support "What's happening?" he gripped the older man's leather jacket for a moment "Jen, what's happening?"
"You alright there Sammy?" Jensen was frowning "Did you bang your head?" concerned hands ran through Jared's hair "Do you wanna hurl – because once we get in the car dude, the upholstery"
Jared stared hard at his screen brother, his mind working furiously, this was no set, this was no fucking wind-up or some sick joke, so what was it? He looked at the man who was helping him to his feet really looked and, in a moment, he realised that this wasn't Jensen Ackles, his best friend and acting buddy. This man looked like Jensen, sure, but this man had a harder, somehow colder exterior, his fine-boned face was covered in light stubble, his hair was slightly darker, his lips tighter. Jared swallowed, convulsively, unable to comprehend what his eyes and mind were telling him; this wasn't Jensen Ackles, this was Dean Winchester and Jared was in deep, deep shit.
Sam awoke lying on a large, incredibly, soft bed in a room that could only be described as pure luxury it was large and warm with a small kitchenette, a huge, comfy looking sofa and enough technology to make even the biggest tech head happy. There was a wide screen TV, a play station, a DVD player and a stereo with the largest speakers Sam had ever seen. He frowned, shaking his head as if to clear it, Dean was certainly hitting the credit cards this time. He sat up and swung his legs round, taking in his surroundings. It was meant to be a simple hunt, to tide them over till something else came along, in and out, but the creature was simply stronger and Sam had ended up at the wrong end of its anger. A sudden knocking interrupted his musings and he heard his brother's voice on the other side of the door
"Jare – are you alright dude? Hey let me in – we need to talk"
"Dean?" Sam almost whispered, his head whirling in confusion, who was this Jare? This Jared? Twice Dean had called him that and, if it were a joke, he didn't think it was particularly funny "Dean – what's going on?"
"Shit Jared – not funny" the door rattled "Now let me in you fucker – the jokes over – you only escaped a fucking stripping down because you collapsed – how could you have missed your cue like that and at such an important part of the episode..Shit Jared – you are so dead"
Sam moved slowly over to the door and opened it, carefully, peering out at the man who stood there, he sounded like Dean, hell he looked like Dean, but Sam was pretty sure that this wasn't his brother, but whether he was a shape shifter or some sort of fevered illusion Sam wasn't sure. This version of Dean no longer wore the familiar leather jacket or ripped denim, this version of Dean was dressed in expensive Gucci jeans and a silk shirt, this version of Dean wore a pair of prada shoes, this version of Dean wore thin wire glasses and had brushed and carefully spiked his fair hair. Sam swallowed hard again and opened the door, letting the older man inside, whoever or whatever this was, it had the answers that Sam might want and Sam decided it was best to be friendly, after all it might be his only chance of getting his brother, his Dean returned to him.