Okay, he had to admit. Dean didn't even have a vague idea as to why they were doing this. But Sam had agreed, saying that it would help the both of them. Anyhing to get his brother's mind off off Amelia. And the fake text he had sent in her name. And his friggin' organic produce. Especially the organic produce. Dean could've sworn those apples at the market were staring at him the wrong way. The only way he'd eat an actual apple would be if it was stuffed inside a pie. With whipped cream slathered on top. Mmmm.Charlie's fake army charged into fake battle with fake swords and fake death. But the smile on Sam's face was not fake. Dean thanked the fates for the fact that somehow Sam had retained his goofy side. His brother somehow looked younger than his twenty- nine years with the hair out of his face. A lot less like a princess, that's for sure.

Sam ran upto him after defeating one of the Shadow Orcs. Dean lifted his cardboard blade to strike down a man from the opposite team. He blocked the other guy's strike and went for his legs. Apparently the man was somehow expecting the move and lightly touched Dean's neck with his piece of cardboard.

It took Dean a while to comprehend what had just happened. By then the guy who had been in front of him had already moved on. He was fake dead. Someone had just fake killed Dean Winchester. Sam had watched the whole scene unfold from a distance. His expression must have given something away because Sammy was giggling.

Charlie's voice boomed all of a sudden. "Troops, we have a fallen soldier. We must pick up the pieces so that we may honour him later. March on!" She did just that. A man leaned close into his ear and whispered. Dean had to strain to hear what was being said above the commotion.

"Handmaiden!" Dean struck a chord of annoyance upon hearing that word again. But somehow it was pleasing to be known as someone other than a killer. "You're supposed to play dead!"

Oh. Right.Dean made a show of falling to the ground. Sam ran to his side and was laughing even harder now. A humiliating position seeing as to how Dean would have to wait for someone from the fake medic team to clear him before he could go sit on the benches.

"Rapunzel fall out of her tower? And I love the wig, shows of your personality, Dean." Sammy was having the time of his life.

"Dude, I just fake died. Cut me some slack."

"Even dungeons and dragons has it for you. What, over a hundred real-life deaths not enough for you?"

Dean realised that somehow this conversation had taken a serious tone. Somewhere it wasn't supposed to go. He tried to force it back on track.

"Come on, Sammy, at least I'm going out Mel Gibson style." The kicked puppy look on his brother's face let him know that he had made it worse. He sighed. "Can't we talk about this later? Ju...just let's enjoy it this one time." Not every single happy memory in their lives have to revolve around hunting."

"Fine. But we are talking about this." No we won't. Not opening any cans of worms anytime soon. "I just don't want to ruin Charlie's night," Sam replied somewhat reluctantly. Dean was once more reminded of his prone position on the ground when the fake medic finlly came around and touched his forehead. At least now he could sit and watch.

Preferably watch Sam fake die. But then again, even watching Sam fake die would be a horrifying scene and bring back stuff that he doesn't want to remember. He was reminded with a start about how he and Sam were starting to drift apart, yet he still couldn't bring himself to watch his brother be touched by a cardboard sword as part of a game. They had different goals, different end games. But family was complicated. They'd somehow find a way to bridge the gap between them. They always do.

With that thought in mind, Dean began his hunt for the celebration keg in the area.