My Own Hero

Shenanigans Part Two and Night Shooting

-JENSEN'S POV-

Right as I was preparing to ram my shoulder into the door of Jared's trailer a second time, the lock clicked and the giant moose was standing there with a goofy grin on his face.

"Hey, man. How can I help you?"

I shoved past him, making my way inside the trailer.

"Where is she?" I growled.

"Who?"

"Seriously? You bring her in here, tell me to leave you alone, and now you're going to act like you don't know what I'm talking about?"

"Jay, are you feeling alright?"

"Scarlett?" I called out, ignoring him now.

There was no response.

"Scarlett's not here, man. You might want to go check her trailer."

"Shut up. This isn't funny, dude. Where is she?"

"Jay, it's a joke. You know? Like the stuff we pull on Misha all the time."

"Where's my girlfriend, Jared?"

"What happened to your sense of adventure? You love pulling stuff like this on set."

"Yeah, well, not when it's about me and my girlfriend."

Jared stared at me for a minute before pointing silently in the direction of the bathroom. When I walked over, Scarlett was sitting on the floor playing on her phone. She looked up when she became aware of my presence looming over her.

"Hello, Douchebag."

"Lightweight."

"How you doin'?"

"Peachy."

"That's good."

"Whatcha doing?"

"Playing a game."

"That so?"

"Mmhm."

"Why are you in Jared's trailer?"

"Jay, we've been over this. Jared plays my favorite Winchester, remember?"

Scarlett squealed as I reached down to pick her up, throwing her over my shoulder before turning to head out. Jared was laughing in his place by the door and I glared at him as I exited the trailer with Scarlett.

"I'm sorry! Put me down!"

"No."

"Jay, please!"

I didn't respond, carrying her over to my trailer and heading inside. I took the time to lock the door before throwing her down on the couch and positioning myself over her so she couldn't escape. Her hazel eyes were wide with a mixture of fear, surprise and lust and it was kind of a turn on.

"Jensen?"

"You're mine," I growled possessively.

I watched as she swallowed thickly, the fear and surprise giving in to pure lust.

"Is this really all because of that stupid joke, because Jared was-"

I cut her off with my mouth, kissing her roughly. When I finally pulled back for air, she worried her bottom lip in between her teeth before nodding.

"Okie dokie," she whispered.

***

We were filming on location and doing night shooting. It was a few short scenes between me and Samantha. We were at the same park we had been at in the finale when Amara had caused Mary to return. She was wearing the same nightgown Mary had been in when Azazel killed her. We stared at each other for a few moments. Then I looked down at the phone in my hand and slipped it into my pocket.

"I, uh... Are you... really... real?"

Samantha just stared at me, and I took a few steps forward, reaching out to touch her. She grabbed my arm, throwing me to the ground and putting her foot on my neck.

"Oh!" I grunted.

"Where am I? Who the hell are you?"

"I'm- I'm Dean. Winchester. I'm your son."

"No. My Dean is four-years-old."

"I was when you died," I replied, breathing shakily.

She stood up, letting me go and gasped. Mary was supposed to be remembering that night in the nursery.

"Sammy!"

There was a beat where they would be putting a flashback to Mary burning on the ceiling and then Samantha gasped sharply.

"Mom, listen to me," I began, breathing heavily. "Your name- your name is Mary Sandra Campbell, okay? You were born December 5, 1954, to Samuel and Deanna Campbell. Your father, he bounced around a lot for, uh, work, and you bounced right along with him, and you ended up in Lawrence, Kansas."

"How do you know all that?" she asked me warily.

"Dad told me. March 23, 1972, you walked into a movie theatre- Slaughterhouse-Five. You loved it, and you bumped into a big Marine and knocked him flat on his ass. You were embarrassed, and he laughed it off, said you could make it up to him with a cup of coffee. So, you went to, uh, Mulroney's and you talked and he was cute and he knew all the words to every Zeppelin song, so when he asked for your number, you gave it to him, even though you knew your dad would be pissed. That was the night that- that you met-"

"John Winchester," Samantha finished and I nodded.

"August 19, 1975, you were married... in Reno. Your idea. A few years later, I came along, then Sammy."

"And then I burned," Samantha said. "How long have I been gone?"

"33 years."

She moved forward, touching me.

"Dean."

"Hi, Mom." 

She slowly moved in, hugging me. We cut the scene there. About two hours later, when the sun was just barely peeking over the horizon, we filmed the second small scene at the park. My jacket was now around Samantha's shoulders, and we sat on a park bench talking.

"How did he die?" Samantha inquired.

"He gave himself up for me," I replied.

She chuckled, sniffling as tears pricked the corners of her eyes and she smiled.

"That sounds like John. And he was a Hunter? And he raised you and Sam to..."

"Yeah, he did."

"And you said we've met before, when you traveled through time," she continued slowly.

"Twice," I nodded. "Your memory got wiped, so..."

"And I saw you when I was a ghost... which I don't remember, either. And God's... sister brought me back to life?"

"Pretty much," I chuckled. "It's a lot. And I know it's a lot. And I'll explain everything. I will. But right now, let's get out of here. Let's get you home. Come on, Mom."

We stood in unison and I put a hand on her shoulder as we walked off.

"Cut!" Phil yelled. "We'll try for more takes tomorrow night. There's too much sunlight now."

While the crew packed up the equipment, Sam and I headed to the trailers to change so we could head back to set.