✓ 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐑 ― Supernatural

EPISODE 41┃STANS AND FANS

Dean Winchester

To be in a huge room with loud voices wasn't Dean's definition of 'fun'. The walls were painted in yellow color, cameras flashed and filmed everywhere. A few tables made of plastic were around in the same as the chairs. A bottle of water was beside him. Dean sweated through his black shirt. The lights were too strong for his taste. And yet, the worst part was the fans would ask him questions he rather preferred to keep shut about.

On the other side of the room, he heard his little brother talk about their past. Dean steeled himself. Sam was fine. He could take care of himself. Clearly, in his head, John's voice snapped at him don't let him out of your sight. Dean folded his hands on the table. The cold surface a welcome distraction. He recalled how they had escaped the insane Sam Winchester shapeshifter.

The person that knocked them out arrived hours later. In Sam's skin, it made his flesh crawl in disgust. But he plastered a cocky smile on his face. Dean knew his mom wanted him to be brave. He reminded himself of that every day. The Sam-look-alike considered him up and down. "Dude, that's creepy," Dean said. Out of the corner of his eyes, the real Sam managed to take out a small pointy thing from the guy's back pocket. Good. Keep going.

"You aren't Jensen Ross Ackles."

Oh, well. Shit. "What?" Dean grinned. "Of course, I am," he raised his arms as high he could get them. "I am a professional non-douche actor unlike you. What kind of costume is that?" He raised his eyebrows. Slowly Sam managed to break the ties. He had to keep fake-Sam's attention in the meantime. Sam 2.0 gave him a bitch stare on a scale of nine.

"This is real, Winchester," Sam-look-alike told him. He stared intensely at him. "Are you telling me the great Dean Winchester has forgotten how to hunt?" Sam 2.0 groaned in pain and closed his eyes when memories washed over him. Dean and Sam exchange a glance. The last straw was cut. Sam raised and knocked the shapeshifter to the ground. He gave him the pointy thing and Dean started to work the ties.

Shortly after Dean ripped them off, Sam grunted when collided into the wall by the shapeshifter's force. "Sam," Dean said in a deep warning tone. "Get a weapon right, now!" Sam followed his command. Later Dean had a long heavy wooden stick it cut the shapeshifter head with. Blood splattered over his face, clothes, floor, and walls. Sam and Dean were quick to clean up and buy new clothes (with Jared's credit card). They managed to find the con again and get into the talking stuff barely minutes late.

He lifted his gaze to the three fans. Dean smiled nervously. He wanted to be out. The two girls wore black campaign shirts at the same guy a had a rather funny moose hat on his head. Weird. The girls squealed the moment he saw their direction. The guy smiled nervously at him.

"What do you want to know?" Dean asked the small group.

One of the girls with blonde hair started talking. "Well, we saw since last time that Sam has been lying about his demon powers. What does Dean feel about that?"

Dean took a deep breath. Anger was his first instinct. Straight after fear and disappointment. His jaw tightened. Dean's eyes turned into a darker green. "He doesn't like it at all. Hell, he hates it. That's the one wish Dean wanted Sam to hold. And he," Dean paused. "Broke it."

They exploded with questions at the same time. Dean raised his hand and they become quiet. Interesting. "But he is beginning to understand why Sam did it. In his own way, Sam, his little brother is trying to save people. Which he does. However, Dean is willing to see past that and put his brother first." The guy nodded, his dark blue eyes understanding.

"Would you say John could have taken better care of them as kids? You know, Sam and Dean. Since so far we have seen just Bobby and another character as father figures. Sam grew up differently, though," the dude with the gray sweater shrugged.

Dean pushed down his emotions about his Dad. He waited for a few minutes before responding. He had never considered his childhood in that way. It was always been about learning how to hunt and take care of Sam. Nothing more. Then there were the night's Dad came home drunk or after a rough hunt. Also the times, he didn't manage to protect Sam. A pang of agony spread in his chest. "John taught Dean how to defend himself and Sam in the future where he knew he wouldn't be there. He knew in the end, he would die. The last he could was protecting me—" Dean stopped when they exchanged confused glances between each other. "I mean, Dean. And Sam."

After a few more talks Dean had wrapped it up. They moved backstage. Sam by his side. He was less tense when Sam was at an arm's length. Dean found a lemonade colored couch and yawned. "Those fans got a good idea how fucked up our lives are," Dean muttered.

Sam flipped through some pages on the white desk. His hazel eyes narrowed. "Mhm," Sam began to search through his phone. He glanced back and forth a few times. God, the guy never took a break.

"They knew our whole life story. Almost. Nobody asked about on Halloween when you were nine years old and screamed like a girl because of a clown in the street," Dean laughed. Sam continued to ignore him. "You okay, buddy?"

Sam finally turned towards him. "Don't you find it weird, Cas hasn't called? It doesn't take this long for someone unless is trouble," Sam attempted to call the angel. They only got to Misha's voicemail. Sam and Dean stared horrified at each other.