✓ 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐑 ― Supernatural

EPISODE 20┃SLOPPY WAYS. NOISY DAYS. WINCHESTERS HEYS.

Sam Winchester

He and Dean were making themselves ready for a particular scene in a fake motel room. Dean walked around mumbled random stuff through his mouth. As far Sam could hear, it was the script.

It was like any other motel room had been in. But a replica. The cameramen took their places, others changed the sounds, while some talked in low voices about the short scene before Sam and Dean would wrap the last scene. Sam knew the next place would be something called a comic con. Originally only meant for comics but later broadened into movies, tv-series, games, and much more. It should last for a few weeks.

Dean gestured to him and he walked over to his big brother. "Have you heard anything from Cas yet?" Dean said whispering worried. Dean frowned before he bit his nails, a nervous habit he did when he couldn't control something.

Sam shook his head. "Nope, nothing. We can try calling him on Misha's phone," he said. Then he heard the familiar sounds of the last stuff getting into places. The scene was about to start.

"Action!"

Dean washed water over his face in the bathroom, where his shoulder Sam knew was still hurting. "Are you almost done?" Dean said irritated. 

"I am going as fast I can," Sam said, he sewed carefully through his almost-skin as accurate he could. The way Dean taught him at a young age. It was natural. He knew this. Sam waited for Dean's response as he continued focusing.

"Good, 'cause you know I got a dislocated shoulder over here," Dean answers shortly afterward, he grabs the whiskey bottle Sam put there beforehand. He drinks from it sloppily, some of it drips out of his mouth.

"Yeah. I'll pop it back when I'm finished," Sam said, definitely finding what he would do next extremely funny considering it should look fake but seem real as the shoes he wore. He finished sewing the fake wound and turned towards Dean. He clipped the thread with a scissor and then grabbed the whiskey. "Gimme that," Sam said. And poured it into his wound. Sam gasped in hurt.

Dean's eyes held a hidden pain behind then only Sam managed to detect. He sits for a moment. 

Dean comments, "So, you lost the magic knife, huh?"

"Yeah, saving your ass. Who the hell was that demon?" Sam said, genius curious about his answer. He bet Dean was seeing the same leads, he did. The problems with the angels weren't random compared to their plotline. They were connected somehow.

"No one good," Dean said. His lips were tight. Clearly, something he did not tell him.

"Cut!"

Immediately, Sam moved closer to Dean, he heard them tell Dean they wrapped up now and were ready for the plane. Sam saw how Dean's green eyes dilated, his breath more rapid, prior to doing anything else he put his hand on Dean's shoulder.

Unfortunately, they weren't able to drive the impala to their destination. "Maybe we should tweet and tell them we just finished acting?" Sam suggested distracting Dean from the fear he was experiencing.

"Right," Dean said, his breath still quick.

Sam took up while he unlocked Jared's phone, his fingers now used to the weird phone. He tweeted along with the lines of; wrapped episode, see you at comic con. They went into a car that awaited them.

Hours later they landed on their destination (but not without Dean fainting twice because of stress, fear, and anxiety. He didn't get enough air and all). They got themselves into a decent hotel room for once. The walls were white, a Samsung TV in the corner, two separate beds.

Two wooden desks beside each bed. One actual clean shower with warm water running. The sun descended in beautiful warm yellow colors. Sam admired the view for a second. Dean threw himself on the bed, he groaned in pleasure. "I swear to God if it wasn't for the acting and the fucking planes. This is a nice life," Dean said.

Sam sat down on the corner of his bed, he sent a text message to Cas, hoping for the best. "But we aren't the same here. You are my brother Dean, I would rather have that. With everything then this," Sam gestured at the room.

"Yeah," Dean's voice muffled by the soft pillow. He turned to him, a smile on his face. "The fans are going to question weird stuff, right? Cas better get back before they do the sexual in duos," Dean said the last sentence to the wall.

"I am sure they got rules about that. Certain things they won't answer, political stuff, you know?" Sam took the remote from the TV before he turned on the news.

Both sat rigidly on their beds when the news played out. "The weather forecast," Sam began.

"And the attacks, they are close," Dean's eyes met his own.

Sam kept back the itch to grab a gun to protect himself. Cas was out there somewhere, all alone. "Damn it," Sam swore underneath his breath.

"It's a trap, someone that put us here must have known," Dean said, his eyes flickered everywhere.

"But who?" Sam flipped open the computer he had taken with him. The research files still open; monsters that were capable of doing so, spells, lore, and anything related to the topic at hand. "You see, the power never adds up whatever I search up. There exist a spell but is only capable of taking objects through it."

Dean's eyes glint by a sudden realization, "we can send the script over to the actors. That way they know what's coming. And they will find out where we are. Then, I bet they will need Cas grace—"

"To fight the enemy on their side. They can send us information back about who exactly we are battling against," Sam finished. They exchanged a glance, it was all it took. Sam paid for the things they needed for the spell as Dean looked for the symbol.