A/N: You know those fics that happen out of a simple, silly conversation? Well this is one of them. After seeing the latest Mel Gibson photos from on the tv? My nephew begged me to write this...so here it is. Hopefully it's funny. Hopefully it doesn't offend any Mel fans out there...cause that wasn't my intention. If you can see the pics for yourself? You may just see where this fic is coming from...plus, I just needed to wake my lazy ass muse up so I could get back other well overdue fic...this might have done the trick.
Anyway...enjoy. Marc? This one's for you, dude...
It had been the perfect dream. Pie, scantily dressed women, beer flowing like a river and nothing but classic rock thumping through in the background. The sort of dream that Dean never wanted to end...and yet, that was exactly what happened.
Papers rustling, the gentle constant tapping of fingers on a keyboard all filtered through his subconscious and pulled Dean away from the babes and back into the land of the living. He groaned as his eyes slowly slid open and adjusted to the soft light of the bedside lamp shining from the other side of the room. Sitting crossed legged on the bed, surrounded by photos and news clippings while he studied the laptop before him, was Sam.
There was a familiar fixated expression on his sasquatch-like brother's face as it was illuminated by the laptop's glow.
"Dude...there's this thing called sleep that most people do when the sun's down. Maybe you've heard of it?" Dean muttered, struggling up onto his elbows and glaring in Sam's direction.
"I'm not tired, " Sam's shoulders lifted in a casual shrug. "It's not like it's a crime, Dean."
For one heartbeat, Dean's mind travelled back to a time when Sam's lack of sleep was a real issue; a soul-trapped-in-hell-being-flayed-by-Lucifer kind of issue. RoboSam - as Dean had so loving named his brother - had been a douchebag of the first order...and a dangerous one at that. Willing to sell out even family if it meant that the hunt was a success. The last thing Dean needed was his brother heading back in that direction.
Sam sighed a moment later and turned to look at Dean. A bemused smile twitched his lips as he caught the look in Dean's eyes. "Dude, relax. I need sleep...I'm just a little too jacked up on coffee to sleep right now, okay?"
"Whatever...it's not like I was worried about it, you jerk." Dean huffed unconvincingly before he laid back on his pillow again. He closed his eyes again and tried to sleep himself. That lasted about another two minutes before he sat up again with a weary growl, throwing back the covers and swinging his feet to the floor. The worn out, stained motel carpet was thankfully still fairly warm beneath his bare feet as Dean got up and crossed the room to snag himself a piece of left over pizza from the box on table. A cold beer from the fridge was next before he finally sat down on his bed again and cast an eye over the mound of paper and photos strewn over Sam's bed.
"You do know I was kidding, right?" Dean lifted an eyebrow at his brother. It had been a stupid comment, a throw away smart arse remark that should have never been taken seriously.
"So, Mel Gibson really took a turn this past year, huh"
"Or he's possessed. Seriously, think about it."
It had been weeks since that remark...and yet here Sam was, surrounded by gossip articles and photographs of Mel Gibson, Hollywood actor. It was so damn insane that Dean wondered for a moment if this was another crack in the wall in Sam's mind. Maybe his brother was losing it? "Sammy?"
"Yeah, Dean...I know." Sam offered distractedly, leaning forward to study the laptop screen.
" I mean, sure he went off the rails and all that...but come on, man, it's Hollywood. Now Britney Spears on the other hand... shaving her head like that? Something's definitely up with her..." Dean was rambling now, frowning as he realised that Sam wasn't even listening to him. "Sam -..."
"Check this out." Sam suddenly picked up the laptop and turned it around so Dean could see the screen. His face was lit up with triumph, a look that Dean knew meant that his brother thought he had found the answers he wanted.
"Sam, come on...possession? I was a joke -..."
"Just shut up and look, Dean." Sam scowled.
Leaning forward, Dean's brow knitted together in a frown as he saw the photos displayed on the screen before him. "Dude...it that-?"
"Lens flare. Yeah." Sam's grin was back, his eyes suddenly bright again as he watched the truth dawning in Dean's eyes.
"Son of a bitch...he's a shifter?"
"It explains the change in behaviour. Whoever that guy is? It's not the real Mel Gibson. Probably hasn't been for some time..."
"Wow...no wonder his latest movies have sucked." Dean couldn't believe this. A shapeshifter. Living in Hollywood, taking the name of an actor that he'd grown up admiring. He slugged back the rest of his beer, then stood up and grabbed his jeans from the floor where he'd left them earlier that evening.
"You're going out?" Sam asked, placing the laptop down on the bed again. "It's like three am, Dean...where the hell are you going?"
"No me...we. It's about a 5 hour drive from here to LA, Sam. What do say we check it out? Maybe take in the sights of the Hollywood sign...they reckon that's haunted too, you know."
"You're kidding?" Sam looked at Dean like his brother was insane. "You're not kidding..."
"Come on, Sam! When was the last time we took any time off and just had some fun? Besides...if he is a shifter? We can call it a working holiday." Dean grinned.
Hollywood. It was crazy. About as crazy as Dean thinking they'd ever get anywhere near someone like Mel Gibson – shifter or not. But there was something utterly infectious in Dean's grin and Sam found himself reaching for his own jeans on the floor beside him. After everything they'd been through...why couldn't they take some time for themselves? Time to reconnect, hang out together and just have fun all under the guise of a hunt that would in all likelihood never happen.
But then again? It was Hollywood...