Nobody Sees, Nobody Knows [Jensen Ackles + Misha Collins | Cockles | mxm]

Chapter Six

A few brush strokes, some hair gel and an entire pack of gum later, I'm standing in the makeshift bunker opposite Jensen, ready for call time. At least, as ready as I'll ever be.

I wring my hands nervously while the First A.D. oversees the crew, and soon the director makes an appearance. Jared gives me a small wave and blows me a raspberry from behind the camera crew.

What are you doing here, I mouth.

"Voyeurism," he returns unabashedly. "Don't miss your mark, loverboy."

The trench coat I'm wearing has been expertly 'riddled with bullets' and corn syrup 'blood' has been splattered all across the front, as well as on my face. I'd say I'm looking pretty damn kissable.

"You ready?" I look at Jensen, but he neither sees me nor hears me because he's too busy glaring at the boom operator.

While the crew unloads the trucks and sets up, Jensen and I are walked through the shot to help us figure out what they want us to do in relation to the camera. Normally, blocking is a piece of cake since we all know the script and what the higher ups have in mind, but today it's just nerve-wracking.

Before long, everyone's in position and ready for filming. All I want to do is jump on the earliest flight back home and go see Vicki and West and Maison.

"Picture is up," the A.D. calls. "Quiet, everybody!" He calls roll sound and the production sound mixer announces the speed.

"Roll camera."

"Speed!"

The clapper, already in position before the camera with the clapperboard, calls "marker" and I gulp apprehensively.

This is happening...

I take a deep breath as the director assumes position, and prepare to become Castiel.

"And...action!"

"Cas?" Jensen - Dean - rushes towards me immediately, voice hoarse.

"Dean," I sway on the spot, and he grabs me by the shoulders.

"Cas, what happened?"

I spit blood out of the corner of my mouth and stare dully into his eyes, which are ringed with panic and fear.

"The angels, they..."

Before I can explain, my legs give out from under me and I groan, sinking to my knees.

"Hey hey hey. It's okay. You ain't kickin' the bucket just yet, buddy. Stay with me, okay?"

Through hooded lids, I watch as Dean's face contorts in pain. He grabs my face.

"Dean."

"No. Come on man, you can't go out yet. Not like this. There's things we gotta do first, like spit on the graves of the flying dicks that did this to you, so you can't-"

"Dean..."

"No."

"Dean, I'm sorry."

"I said no, damnit."

Desperately, he pulls me to my feet and I stumble backwards against the wall of his room.

"Dean, I tried to stop them, I'm so sorry-"

"Don't," Dean seethes, tears gleaming in his eyes. "Damnit, Cas. I've had it to here with you almost getting yourself killed. You have no idea what you put me through, and all you have to say to me is, oops, sorry? Does your life mean nothing to you?"