A/N: Title taken from and inspired by the Lee Majors tv show The Fall Guy and Burt Reynolds' stuntman movie Hooper. Hooper's tagline: There ain't' nothing like the life of a Hollywood stuntman.
Disclaimer: I do not own Demon Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Crowley, Garth, Benny Lafitte, Casey, Cain, the Nine Sister Muses, Rocket Raccoon, Groot, The Hulk, Godzilla, Caleb the camel ("Hump dayyy!") and any other popular or mythological characters who show up that you know good and darn well I didn't create.
Summary: Demon Dean makes a new life for himself in Vancouver as an actor/stuntman, but someone is sabotaging the movie set. And Sam is determined to bring his wayward big brother home.
Part 1 – movie day
This story begins and ends the same way. With a movie ticket.
Some of this is true. Or maybe none of it is.
Men of Letters Bunker
Lebanon, Kansas
Two years after Dean Winchester died, two years after his body mysteriously disappeared from the Men of Letters bunker in Lebanon, Kansas, Sam Winchester felt the exact same stomach-churning dread he experienced on that awful day.
Sam held the demon killing blade at the ready as he entered the library. He looked calm on the outside, but inside he was a jumble of screaming nerve endings. What if Dean (or whatever had hijacked Dean's body) had decided to pay his brother a visit for old times sake? What would he do if he looked into smiling green eyes that flashed pitch black?
Truthfully? Sam had no idea.
His eyes flickered from right to left as he scanned the room for possible threats. His jangled nerves raised the hair at the back of his neck.
Nothing.
The library looked the same as it had the night before, but there was something different now: an envelope placed in the exact center of the table.
Sam stopped and stared.
He kept the blade raised as he cautiously approached. He leaned forward. He sure in the hell wasn't going to touch it. The paper was antique white, thick and expensive, certainly nothing from Office Depot or Staples. The words written on the outside sprawled across the paper, red and spiky. He recognized the handwriting, all right.
Awww, poor Moose.
Sam scowled. Crowley. That bastard.
Reboot your Squirrel hunt here. My treat.
The ink was probably human blood. The King of Hell had to keep his street cred up, of course.
Sam reluctantly lowered the knife. He stood there for a moment. He wanted to turn and walk away.
He wanted to pick the envelope up and open it.
Dean was his only weakness. Crowley knew that. Hell, demons everywhere knew that.
Sam finally lowered the blade, then reached out and picked up the envelope. For a wild moment his fingertips seemed to burn at the feel of the paper. Hellfire. Sam stiffened up, then realized as soon as he realized it was just his overactive imagination.
Nothing.
Whatever was inside was really thin. And small. That didn't make him feel any better. Curses had been cast with far less. He didn't trust any of this, and he damn sure didn't trust Crowley.
The flap was open. Sam held the envelope away from him as he turned it upside down and shook it.
A rectangle of stiff sky blue paper, two inches long, an inch wide, fluttered out. It made several graceful spirals in the air before landing on the polished wood surface face up.
Sam leaned in cautiously, then squinted at the words printed on the front:
RUN FOR THE BORDER
Mon Mar 14 16 12:30pm 1
Majestic Cinema PG13 1005
1 Mat $5.00 TMA 1
MajesticCinemadotnet
Majestic 785-446-6888
It was a movie ticket.
What the hell?
Majestic Cinema
Lebanon, Kansas
The next day Sam Winchester walked up to the Majestic at approximately 12:20PM. The theater opened at noon during the week and this early in the afternoon there were only adults present. School was still in session. Sam was relieved about that. He didn't want kids around if things went south. Bad enough there were adults in the building.
The Majestic had six screens. Two of the movies were "chick flicks." A serious drama with Meryl Streep and Diane Keaton, the other a rom-com with Jennifer Lawrence and Scott Eastwood. Will Ferrell's latest offering was number three, then a godawful cartoon (fairy Barbie gone CGI) and a live action rip-off of some video game that Sam had never heard of before. That and Run For The Border would be the ones the kids would most likely flock to after school let out later on that afternoon.
Run for the Border had his full attention now. He'd researched the movie online the night before. Distributed by Warner Brothers. Starred Jeffrey Dean Morgan and Olivia Wilde. Critics' reviews were generally favorable, called it a "good, honest Western with creepy supernatural elements." The plot was pretty simple: A Texas rancher, his family and ranch hands were forced to flee their home. They made a desperate bid for the New Mexico border hotly pursued by all manner of hideous creatures. It was exactly the kind of movie Dean would have liked, and the thought of his long lost big brother sitting in the darkened theater laughing at all the movie stupid on the big screen made Sam's heart ache. His game face wavered just a little and then settled back, solid as stone.
Sam appeared casual and unconcerned as he walked through the lobby. Inside he felt pissed off and anxious at the same time. The people behind the concession stand were obviously underpaid and looked bored out of their minds. The smell of fresh buttered popcorn filled the air, a rich, heavy scent. Eating anything was the furthest thing from his mind. Sam's stomach was a rock, a sour, heavy lump.
He still didn't know what Crowley was up to, but he came prepared. The flask of holy water fit neatly into the inside pocket of Sam's jacket. The demon killing blade rested inside his leather belt sheath as well. He carried a pair of handcuffs inscribed with devil's traps in his outer pocket. Sam also had his Taurus PT92 tucked into his back waistband and another flask of holy water hidden inside his jacket pocket on the other side.
He showed his ticket to a bored employee to gain entrance, walked past the concession stand and headed into Auditorium One.
There were eleven other people in the auditorium. Adults playing hooky. No one turned around when he entered: most of them sat in groups of 2 and 3 and were too busy talking to each other.
He couldn't sit facing the door, so he picked the next best spot: the seat directly underneath the projection booth. From this vantage point he could keep an eye on all of them, even the stragglers who came in late.
The lights darkened. The previews were the usual stuff. Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson's latest disaster flick. Liam Neeson in Taken 4. Two horny frat boy comedies. Chris Pratt as the new Indiana Jones.
Then the main feature started.
Immediately after the opening credits rolled five cowboys rode up to a barn on a ranch out in the middle of nowhere. The camera tracked them from behind. Each rider dismounted. The animals stood patiently, lathered up and tired out from the long ride. The cowboys gathered up the reins and one by one walked their mounts into the barn.
The last cowboy pulled his saddle off the back of a tall black Appaloosa horse with a short flippy tail and a spotted white rump. He slung the saddle and the blanket over his shoulders, picked up the reins and led the animal in. Sam couldn't see his face. The camera panned over him, then pulled back to include the entire scene, using the barn door as a frame.
Sam frowned. The way this one walked prickled his nerves. Too familiar.
Broad shoulders. Bow legs.
A gunfighter's strut.
There was no dialogue, just the slow motion thunk of boot heels and hooves against the ground, and the soft, faraway whickering sounds of the horses.
The last cowboy entered the barn. He led his horse into a stall and then turned to throw his saddle and blanket across a wooden railing nearby. His hair was hidden underneath his wide brimmed hat, his skin and clothes coated with grey trail dust.
He raised his head as he turned towards the camera.
Sam froze.
Awww, poor Moose.
No. It couldn't be.
Reboot your Squirrel hunt here.
Sam saw bright green eyes framed by impossibly long dark lashes. High cheekbones. Full lips. That all too familiar patrician nose.
Sam saw Dean.
TBC next week.