#he is so loverboy trapped in a sadist body

[lifeisdabubbles-undersalmondean]

La Pomme ~ Chapter Nine

Pairing: Sam x OC (eventual Dean x OC and Dean x Castiel. And I mean eventual.)

Series summary: George is a casual French-Mistake-universe Supernatural fan living in no-COVID 2020, who's life is upended when she's suddenly launched between realities, two years into the boys' past (S13E22). What begins as an insane, immersive fan experience turns into more when Jack goes missing and George offers up her AU information to help track him down. Soon it's discovered that she and Sam may actually have history. But that's impossible, right?

Word Count: 4,800

Warnings: {smut, fluff, angst, show level violence, swearing, mentions of suicide} ***Detailed warnings will be tagged for specific chapters.

A/N: Following the events of my prequel Paradise and second story From My Eyes Off. Reading those first gives context but isn’t necessary to start this one.

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"What… the fuck?" Dean was walking toward the Impala when he saw an unfamiliar silhouette in the backseat. That isnt…is it? Dean had had it up to here with this woman. "What do you think you're doing?!" He asked angrily as he stepped up to the door.

While the boys had spent 10 minutes gathering their essentials and directing a team of two to Montana, George had casually made her way to the garage and slipped into the backseat of the Impala. She made sure to strap herself in tight. If she could have, she probably would have glued herself down. She knew Dean wasn't going to be easily convinced of this, but she was going to Oregon with them, whether he liked it or not.

One could argue that joining the Winchesters on a hunt like this seemed to be in direct conflict with her strict Do Not Get Involved Policy. Though she was well aware of her hypocritical actions, she felt very strongly that she needed to be there… or that they needed her there; she wasn't sure and she couldn't explain it. She was worried about the kid, her new friend-sort of-and there was something about this upcoming rescue that tied her stomach in knots.

In an effort to remain calm, she'd tried to walk through it logically: obviously Jared and Jensen were still on the show, so Sam and Dean had to be safe, but they've "killed off" Cas before and who knew how long the Jack guy's contract was for. She thought he was still on the show in 2020 but she hadn't been paying close enough attention to be sure. She just couldn't risk it when her instincts were telling her she belonged with them; that she was supposed to help in some way.

Admittedly, she realistically couldn't see how she was going to help; she couldn't fight or shoot a gun, nor did she have any special abilities. But, none of that mattered to her right now. A feeling of death was squirming through her veins and the only thing that eased the squirm was imaging herself going to Oregon, consequences be damned. Besides, no way was she staying behind alone in the very obviously haunted bunker of death.

She'd already fought the internal battle, now she had to prepare for the battle with Dean.

"Get out of the car. Now." Dean ordered, yanking the door open.

Pulling herself into a ball and clutching the seatbelt, she said, "I'm going with you."

"No, you're not," Dean was furious. "Get out now!"

"No!" She stood her ground and Dean snapped. He threw himself into the car, reaching to undo her belt and pull her out. She fought him, slapping his hands away and pushing on him with her knees. "No! DEAN! STOP IT! NO! I'M COMING WITH YOU! Wow, you are freakishly strong! HEY WATCH IT!"

"Dean, stop it! Let go!" Sam wrapped his arms around his brother's waist and yanked him out of the car. One of George's hiking boots slid off in Dean's hands after he'd flailed around trying to get a grip on anything solid. "Dude, just chill-CHILL!" Sam wrestled him up against the car and held him still with a firm hand on his chest. "Relax. We don't have time to argue, OK? We've wasted enough time already, we have to get going. She'll stay out of the way, I promise."

Dean shrugged off Sam's hand and shoved the boot into his stomach a little too hard. "If she gets killed, it's on you." He then huffed angrily as he headed to the trunk to toss their bags in.

Sam handed George's shoe back to her with a gentle, though concerned smile. Quickly brushing her tousled hair out of her face, she took it from him and nodded a thank you, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The outcome had been inevitable, but it didn't alleviate the guilt. She just knew she had to go with them.

Dean slid angrily into the front seat and slammed his door. "Let's go!" He ordered.

Once everyone piled in, he floored it in the direction of False Klamath, Oregon. Sam was in the passenger's seat and Castiel was behind him, next to George in the back. She was quiet as Dean's words echoed in her head...if she gets killed...gets killed...she gets killed... It hadn't occurred to her that the death she was sensing might be her own. As they drove away, she thought maybe the haunted murder bunker wasn't looking so bad after all.

They drove in silence for nearly two agonizing hours in the inky black of a moonless sky, before George couldn't take it anymore and finally pierced the silence with a somewhat jarring, "I spy with my bionic eye, something that begins with R." Sam raised an eyebrow at Dean, who, without moving a muscle, gave him a "fuck no!" look and remained silent. Sam turned to George, who had sat forward in her seat with a cheery, optimistic look on her pretty freckled face. He hated to disappoint her but he knew Dean needed some more time to seethe.

He gave her an apologetic smile and a small shrug, "Kinda hard to play in the dark, anyway?"

She let out a defeated sigh and threw herself back. She didn't particularly enjoy silence, especially not when she found herself in the unique situation of being in a car with three famous people and nothing to distract her. She had so many questions and her adrenaline was pumping! But she knew she'd pushed Dean pretty far with her tag-along tammy routine, so she begrudgingly fell silent again.

Another two hours and well past midnight, Sam was thoroughly impressed with George's determination. For the last hour she'd been unable to sit still-legs crossing and uncrossing, toes tapping, hips wiggling, audible, slow breaths escaping her lips, face contorting between agony and determined resolve-caught in what Sam had presumed was a self-imposed battle of wills that George was currently engaged in between Dean and her bladder.

The undeniable signs of her predicament began shortly after she'd failed in her attempts to start up I-Spy. As Sam watched rest stop after rest stop pass by them without so much as a foot off the gas level of deceleration from Dean, he knew she was in for a rough ride. Finally, after another 30 minutes of quiet, painful whimpering from the backseat, Sam was about to tell him to pull over when Dean spoke first.

"Making a quick pit stop to fill'er up." He grunted, as they passed a road sign for a gas station three quarters of a mile away. "No dilly dallying. 5 minutes tops." George's whole body sat up at the announcement, literally bouncing on the edge of her seat, and she watched out the window, desperately searching for the gas station.

Sam was grateful for Dean's mercy, especially since he'd turned back to ask Castiel something a few minutes earlier and noticed her eyeing an empty soda bottle at her feet. He could practically see the wheels in her head turning as she tried to figure out if she could make it work.

When they finally saw the lights of the gas station just off the highway, she lunged forward. Pointing frantically, she narrowly missed Sam's face with her hand, "THERE! THERE IT IS!" She shouted excitedly.

They pulled slowly into the nearly deserted parking lot. Because he just couldn't help himself, Dean purposefully parked at the pump as far from the door as possible. George let out a frustrated groan and flung herself out of the car before it had even fully stopped, racing for the building, and disappearing inside the convenience store.

"Don't dawdle!" Dean shouted after her with a chuckle as he got out the driver's side and began filling up the tank.

"What's your fuckin' damage, Dean?" Sam, who'd followed his brother out of the car, was furious.

Dean looked at him innocently, "What? Her small bladder is my problem now?"

"You let that go on for two and a half hours. Stop punishing her already."

"Listen, Loverboy, don't try to lecture me. Her being here is a huge mistake and you know it. It puts everyone at risk! This isn't personal, it's just common sense, man."

"The only danger she's in at the moment is peeing her pants from your sadistic torture games, which feels pretty damn personal. I don't even know what you're so upset about anyway. If she really did come from that alternate universe, then she could have useful information, and it could help us."

"We could have just as easily gotten that useful information over the phone from the bunker where she would be safe," Dean countered pointedly.

Sam avoided that logic, "It's not like I'm saying let's have her join us in the fight! We can leave her at a hotel where she'll be safe. Sh-"

"You can't really be that naive can you? After all we've been through?" Dean was disappointed in his brother's rashness and his pisspoor attempt at an excuse. "What is it about this girl that's got you acting so reckless?"

Logically, Sam knew Dean was right about George; she couldn't protect herself and her being there put them all in more danger. But he didn't want to admit it and he didn't have a come back, so he changed tactics and instead gave his brother a gentle, pleading look.

"Just consider easing up on her, man. She's here now, regardless, so perhaps we could try to not give her bladder cancer at least?" Sam opened his car door but before slipping in he offered, "Maybe you could even give being nice a try."

Once inside the car, Sam felt dizzy, trapped in his own swarming thoughts. Dean was right, damnit; he was absolutely right and Sam knew better. Leaving her back at the bunker was the safest possible option, for everyone, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to actually force her to stay behind. He was still trying to wrap his head around everything. He didn't know what the hell to think. Was she really from that reality where his life was a TV show? To her, all of this was make believe? When she was from Apocalypse World things seemed easier because they had shared experience, her supernatural free life changed things dramatically. The connection he felt hadn't changed at all, though.

The problem was, he was basing a lot of that connection on the dream he'd had and the woman in it. He felt so drawn to George, like she was an old friend he hadn't seen in a while and the more he thought about it, the more her mannerisms and personality matched the dream woman; not to mention how similar they looked. But he had spent the last ten years of his life convincing himself that the dream had been nothing but Gabriel messing with him, that that dream was no more real than all the times he'd watched Dean die that day. So, then the dream woman couldn't be real either and George obviously was. So, maybe he was seeing things that weren't there? Maybe he was simply attracted to George and getting his wires crossed; conflating how he felt about her with his feelings about the woman from the dream?

That idea made him even more nervous. His feelings for the fake dream woman were unlike anything he'd ever felt before or since. They were intense and… long term. George was from another dimension. How exactly was that supposed to work?

Then again, she had been spending the past ten years of her life watching any number of combinations of horrible and stupid things he'd done. There was probably nothing to make 'work' at all. He had assumed she'd been receptive to his flirting originally, but looking back she was probably just starstruck and polite. Yet another reason he was concerned about being so drawn to her.

He felt very confused and probably should be separating himself from her, so he could figure things out with a clear head. Yet, something about the idea of being apart from her made him… unexplainably uneasy. So, he'd selfishly chosen to allow her to come. Now Dean's words were echoing in his head, making him feel incredibly guilty that he'd put her in so much danger. He knew it was his responsibility to keep her safe until they could return her to her world.

Sam frowned deeply at the thought.

"...about George?" Castiel's deep voice mumbled something, breaking the silence. Sam nearly jumped out of his skin; Cas had been so quiet while he was lost in his thoughts, that Sam had forgotten he was there.

"Sorry, what?" Sam asked, shaking the fog of deep thoughts from his head.

"I know you told me that George comes from an alternate reality and that you think that's the reason for my unease around her but... I'm not convinced. I don't think she's entirely human. I've been trying to read her these past few hours. It's definitely not what I typically pick up from a human."

Sam paused, giving him a strange look before blinking rapidly, "OK, first of all-that just sounds creepy man, so keep it to yourself. Second, she's not a typical human-she's-she's-" He paused, his brain distracting him by offering up a number of choice adjectives he could use to finish that sentence: gorgeous, funny, charming, bold, smart, kind, wonderful, delightful, magnificent-none of which were helpful to him at the moment. He cleared his throat and finished, "from another reality. She probably 'reads' differently because you've never encountered a human like her before." Yeah, that worked.

Castiel sighed in frustration, "You don't understand; she doesn't feel different from other humans, but she's... fuzzier."

"Dude," Sam furrowed his brow in disgust.

"More mysterious," Cas defended. "It's not that what I'm sensing is strange, it's that I can't sense anything. Which is, in and of itself, strange."

Sam sighed, "OK, isn't it possible that because she's from an alternate reality and because you've never sensed someone from that reality, that it could make it more difficult to do?"

"None of the humans from apocalypse world were difficult to read."

"Yea, but angels and monsters existed in that world-an alternate you existed in that world. In George's world none of this is real, it's all a TV show. Maybe there's some sort of… non-magical universe exception?"

Castiel thought about it for a moment, frustrated that he genuinely wasn't sure. He sighed defeatedly and said, "Maybe, but I-"

"Exactly. When you try sensing her does she seem evil or like she's trying to hurt us?" Sam asked patiently.

Cas huffed and said, "No. In fact she seems… undeniably likeable."

A smile broke out on Sam's face before he could stop it because he couldn't disagree. Turning his head quickly, he reached a hand up to run over his beard, stretching his mouth out like he was just adjusting his lips nonchalantly.

Spotting George coming out of the store, he cleared his throat and said, "Exactly, so just… relax for now. She's not going anywhere, right? We'll keep an eye on her. For now, just try to act normal, OK?"

Castiel was about to respond when her door opened and George slid back into the car. He tensed up, trying to figure out how to act 'normal' appropriately. Watching her buckle up and then sit back with a contented sigh, he asked, "Things went well?"

George raised an eyebrow and half smiled strangely, "Uh… Yeah. I've done it before, so," She made a joke, trying to make him laugh but he seemed pretty serious about it.

"Good," He said enthusiastically. After a small pause he complimented, "You held that for a very long time. Your pelvic floor muscles must be impressively strong."

Her jaw dropped and she slapped a hand over her mouth quickly to keep from bursting into-slightly embarrassed-laughter; Castiel was so sincere. Blushing bright red, she glanced at Sam, who was pinching the bridge of his nose in mortification.

After a moment, George finally composed herself enough to nod politely and say with uncertainty, "Thanks for noticing?" She did try to keep up with her daily Kegels.

Sam snorted and the two of them began struggling to hold back childish giggles.

They sat in humorous awkwardness until Dean climbed back in. Sam shifted back to facing forward, Dean fired up Baby, and the group headed toward the highway again. As they pulled away from the gas station, Castiel noticed a strange noise coming from George's direction. When he turned to look at her, her eyes had a mischievous sparkle in them and there was a sneaky smile on her face.

"Why are you crinkling?" He asked loudly, attracting the attention of the two men in the front seat. George looked back toward the gas station conspiratorially before slipping two Hostess Cherry Fruit Pies out from the collar of her shirt, much to the surprise of all three of them. She reached over and set them both gently down next to Dean before sitting back in her seat and resting motionlessly.

It was a silent pie-ce offering, which was Dean's favorite kind.

"Where did those come from?" Sam asked curiously.

"My bra," She answered cooly, shooting him a wink. He hoped it was dark enough that she couldn't see him blush.

"I think what Sam means is, how did you pay for them?" Cas helped.

"Didn't." She shrugged. "Isn't stealing kinda the Winchester Way?" George didn't normally steal, other than a few packs of pokemon cards as a kid, but she figured she was in an alternate reality where a television show was real, so why not live a little? Besides, she'd wanted to do something to make amends with Dean and didn't have any money; what choice did she have?

Dean gave an almost imperceptible nod of respect at both her methods and her choice of olive branch. Maybe Sam's right, she could be useful after all. He waited for what he felt was an appropriately stubborn amount of time before oh-so-casually reaching over to grab one. He ripped it open and took a bite, silently mimicking a look of pure ecstasy while he scarfed down his first one.

"Road," Dean mumbled almost unintelligibly with a mouth full of pie after taking the first bite of his second treat. Everyone else in the car shared confused looks, waiting expectantly for Dean to continue or offer an explanation. "Road. Starts with R," he grumbled, annoyed that he'd had to repeat himself, as though each time he participated he risked catching nerd germs.

"Er-yea! Road is right. That's what I-Spied that starts with 'R'." George had a triumphant smile on her face. "Now it's your turn?" She asked, tentatively.

"P," He refused to say the entire thing. Everyone in the car looked around for a "P" word. George stifled a giggle because her mind instantly thought "penis," but she thought better than to say it. Besides he couldn't see one of those at the moment… I'm pretty sure, she thought, giving a peek toward the front seat to confirm.

They were all stumped in silence having searched for a good five minutes before they began grasping at straws.

"Pine tree?"

Head shake.

"Pine cone?"

Head shake.

"Pants? Doesn't it have to be outside the car?"

"No it doesn't but it's not pants. Lame." None of them could find anything.

"P?!" Sam finally shouted. "What the hell could you possibly see that starts with a 'P'? A porcupine? A planet? Fucking purple mountains majesty?! What!" Sam just knew Dean was cheating somehow which frustrated him to no end. His brother had always been a cheater. Dean took an exaggerated bite of his gifted contraband and shrugged, nonchalantly.

"Pie?" Castiel guessed finally, watching Dean closely.

"Ding, ding, ding." Dean ate the last bite happily and Sam rolled his eyes.

Fuckin' dumbass.

"Your turn Cas! You just have to pick a thing that everyone can see-"

"Like my pie," Dean said smugly toward Sam, who bristled.

George shook her head in amusement, "Right, like pie, and then you say 'I spy with my little eye something that begins with 'P'-because pie begins with 'P'-and then based on that letter, the rest of us have to try to guess what it is that you 'spy'. Whoever guesses it correctly, goes next."

George was in heaven. She was having a blast watching the two brothers, and Cas, being even more competitive than she was and all having fun together. For her, those scenes in the show were too few and far between. Unfortunately, her exhaustion got the better of her and she nodded off only about 45 minutes into their rousing game of I-Spy, where each one was trying to one up the other in difficulty level ("You can't fucking SPY AIR, Dean!" "Oh, but you can spy whatever the hell a berm is?!").

A little while later, Dean watched Sam sit back down in his seat after having reached back to cover George with his jacket with an amused smirk.

"So," He began, trying not to disturb the snoring woman in the backseat, "she woke up in your bed, huh?" Sam bristled and adjusted in his seat with a throat clear, ignoring him. "Something you want to tell me-"

"Mind your business?"

"Ooooh, you're turning pink; this must be good. Spill," Dean demanded.

"There's nothing to spill. Shut up," Sam huffed and ran a tired hand over his face, scratching at his beard compulsively. He could tell this was about to turn into a whole conversation, one he didn't want to have with Dean because he knew he wasn't going to understand. He'd never told Dean about the dream, and wasn't about to. Sometime during the drive he'd successfully convinced himself she simply couldn't be the same woman from the dream-because that was obviously nuts-but there was no denying he liked her. Problem was, dream or no, it was all so complicated and he knew Dean would try to convince him to stop over analyzing the situation and just 'have fun.'

Narrowing his eyes at Sam, he said seriously, "Wait a minute…" Out of the corner of his eye, Sam noticed Dean was glancing at him with an intense stare.

He turned to look at the shorter man finally, with an annoyed, yet curious expression, "What?"

"George is the one who likes this new o-Sam-a bin laden look, isn't she?" Dean had an accusatory look on his face as he reached out a finger to poke at Sam's beard.

Sam slapped his hand away and rolled his eyes hard, whispering sternly, "You know you're an idiot, right?"

Shaking his head, Dean chuckled, "Oh man. You've got it bad."

"You don't know what you're talking about. I don't have anything. George is great-"

Dean instantly raised his brows and made a perfect circle with his mouth, "Ope! I knew it."

Sam let out a quiet growl of annoyance and began again slowly, "You know what I mean; She seems like a nice person and she's…" Again his brain provided him with a number of perfectly applicable adjectives for the end of that sentence but all of them would have garnered an unwanted reaction from Dean. "She's friendly," he cringed noticeably the second the words left his mouth, he could practically feel Dean's reaction, but he pushed forward, "She seems like she'd be a great person to get to know as a friend."

Dean didn't even bother attempting to poke at him with innuendo; Sam's tone was definitive. He 'ughed' and waved his stubborn brother off, "Cool, so we're punishing ourselves."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked exasperatedly.

"OK, let's see if I can make this easy enough for you to comprehend: you clearly want to hit that and she's obviously good to go. So-"

"Ugh, why are you always so crass? That is so-"

"Accurate? Exact? Precise? Spot on?"

"None of those things. For starters she's from an alternate reality where this is all fake, remember? One that we're supposed to be trying to send her back to after we find Jack. I doubt she's interested in having a fling with a fictional character before we toss her back through time and space."

"Yea, you could be right. But then again, she might be?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "Yea? So, what's the morning after like, Dean? Am I supposed to ask her how she likes her eggs before dropping her off at the TARDIS for the trip home? 'Thanks for a wonderful evening, call me next time you Poltergeist into your TV'?"

Dean chuckled a little, nodding defeatedly, "Well, you'll never know if you don't ask. Unless… you're afraid of the answer?"

Sam stayed quiet for a moment before responding with, "She's not interested in something with me." His tone was definitive, very done with this conversation.

"You must think I was born yesterday," Dean huffed. "If you think you're easy to read? Sammy, she's a picture book," Dean said with confidence, making Sam glare at him. "Total Samgirl."

Sam furrowed his brow, muttering, "I think it's rude to assume anything. She… could be uh-a-a Dean girl," He separated the words pointedly. There was a sudden bad taste in his mouth.

"Denial is not just a river in Egypt, Samuel," Dean stated, far more seriously than he had been taking the rest of this conversation. "Why are you pretending you don't like her?"

"I'm not. I'm just being practical," He stated matter-of-factly.

"Fuck practicality. Have some fun," Dean encouraged.

Sam's nostrils flared at the mere thought but kept his composure and said pointedly, "Look man, to her this is all some surreal fan adventure. The Winchesters and 'Misha,' fun car games and stealing pie, free from consequence. But the longer she stays here the more likely she'll face very real, very serious consequences. Hell, you're back and she can barely blink before she's handcuffed to a chair, interrogated, and sexually assaulted by a demon!" Sam growled angrily, pausing to make sure he kept his volume in check and glancing back at the sleeping woman. Taking a deep breath he sighed, "Eventually she's going to realize that this isn't a TV show you can turn off when things get bad; she's going to see how shitty it all is."

"Please don't tell me you really mean how shitty you are?" Dean said knowingly, in a disgusted tone. Sam turned to look out the window, refusing to respond. Dean knew it was pointless to try and talk him out of his self-pity so he didn't push it. After a moment of consideration, Dean muttered defiantly, "Technically she was sexually assaulted by a demon before we tied her to a chair..." Sam turned and glared at him with a sharp sigh, to which Dean shrugged, "I'm just saying, if you're going to list things you could list them in the correct order."

"What's a Samgirl?" Came Castiel's gruff whisper from the back. Both Sam and Dean turned to look at him and then shared an 'oh great' look. Dean spent the next few hours explaining more about the reality that George had come from, at least the best of his abilities, and providing context to explain the silly, fandom created handles. Sam tried to refuse to participate but couldn't help chiming in to tell Dean when he thought he was wrong.

[cookierin-simp]

Throwing back on this lesson because the fact that he was so jealous that Mammon gifted MC the plushie and he don’t want to show it because Diavolo was there.