18. TV Land (Part 1)

We got to the warehouse only to be disappointed. No police. No police tape. No police cruisers. We were the only ones at the scene.

We all shuffled out of the Impala.

"There was a murder here, and there's no police cars," Dean observed. "There's nobody. How's that look to you?"

"Crappy," said Sam.

Dean went to the trunk of the Impala and pulled out two stakes, three flashlights, and a handgun. He held the weapon out to me. I didn't question it, I took the weapon gratefully. I didn't think I'd be ready to have to take down the Trickster. This was more for my protection than to take the guy down, whatever he looked like.

With stakes, flashlights, and a gun in hand, we entered the building.

I felt immediately disoriented. I looked down at my clothes. How did I end up with blue medical scrubs on? Where did my flashlight and gun go? I looked up at the boys. Since when had they both been wearing white lab coats? Since when did the warehouse inside look like a hospital, let alone sound like one?

I rubbed my eyes to make sure I was still in reality. I even pinched myself until I started to bleed. Yeah, this wasn't a dream. I wasn't unconscious. We somehow went from a warehouse in Ohio to a hospital inside a warehouse.

"What the hell?" Dean spoke.

Two female doctors were passing by, one blonde and one Asian.

"Doctor," they both said. My brows came together.

"Doctor?" Sam asked.

I looked at the door behind us and opened it. I stepped back as I wasn't met with the outdoors and the Impala, but a couple making out in what looked to be a janitor's closet. I slammed the door, feeling a bit freaked out.

A brunette doctor suddenly diverted her attention from the receptionist's desk to approach us. I stepped back behind the brothers, still wary.

"Doctor," she greeted us. I gasped as she slapped Sam.

"Ow!" he hissed.

"Seriously."

"What?"

"Seriously?" the doctor said. "You're brilliant, you know that? And a coward. A brilliant coward."

"Um, what are you talking about?"

My eyes widened as the doctor slapped Sam again. What the actual hell?

"As if you didn't know!" she said dramatically before stalking off. I was too confused to really take action.

"You okay, Sam?" I asked.

"I...don't know."

"I don't believe this," Dean said distantly. There was something in his eyes I could see was unusual: he looked like he was witnessing a dream coming true.

"What?" Sam and I asked.

"That's Doctor Piccolo."

"Who?"

"Doctor Ellen Piccolo, the sexy yet earnest doctor at Seattle Mercy Hospital." I looked where Dean was gesturing. Sure enough, there was a sign with Seattle Mercy Hospital on it.

"Dean," said Sam. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"The doctor getups. The, the sexy interns. The 'seriously's. It all makes sense."

"What makes sense? What's going on?"

"We're in Doctor Sexy, MD."

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" I asked as we began to move throughout the hospital corridors. "We're in a TV show?"

"What else do you want it to be, Dak?"

"Oh, I don't know, some weird hallucination? A dream? Anything other than this! Though, I can't complain about how oddly comfortable these scrubs are."

"Dude, what the hell."

"I don't know," Sam said honestly.

"No, seriously, what the hell."

"I don't know."

"One theory. Any theory."

"Uh, the Trickster trapped us in TV Land."

"That's your theory. That's stupid."

"You're the one who said we're on Doctor Sexy, MD," I reminded Dean pointedly.

"Yeah, but TV land isn't TV Land. I mean, there's actors and, and lights and crew members, you know. This looks real."

"It can't be. Dean, how can this possibly be real?" I looked around me. He made an annoying point. This did look pretty real.

"I don't know."

The Asian doctor walked past us. "Doctors."

"Wow, am I completely invisible here?" I asked, rather annoyed.

"There goes Doctor Wang," Dean said, almost as though he was narrating. "The sexy but arrogant heart surgeon." Dr. Wang went down the corridor, past a man who was sitting on a gurney. "And there's Johnny Drake. Oh, he's not even alive, he's a ghost in the mind of her." A brunette doctor came to sit next to Johnny Drake. "The sexy yet neurotic doctor over there."

"So...this show has ghosts?" Sam said. "Why?"

"I don't know. It's compelling."

"I thought you said you weren't a fan," I said.

"I'm not. I'm not." Dean suddenly stopped and got this stare in his eyes that freaked me out a little. "Oh boy."

"What?" Sam and I asked.

"It's him."

"Who?"

I had my eyes on the corridor Dean did. I felt like he moved in slow motion, his entrance seemed too flawless. The dark locks of shoulder length hair—hair longer than mine, I'd like to point out. Those dark, brooding eyes. His rather fair complexion. I swallowed, feeling a knot form tight in my stomach.

"It's him," Dean murmured. "It's Doctor Sexy."

No wonder. His title suited him perfectly. Whoa, is the room starting to spin?

"Whoa, hey, hey." Sam caught me as I started to lean one way. "Kota, what's wrong?"

"I-I don't know." I shook my head dazedly. "I'm feeling lightheaded."

"Don't faint, Dak, because I know that's exactly what you're gonna do," Dean said out of the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, you just don't want to look bad in front of him," I snapped as Sam helped right me. "Mind being my crutch, Sam?"

"Just don't faint," he told me.

"I'll try not to."

Dr. Sexy, as he was so eloquently deemed by Dean, stopped before us. My face heated up instantly. Dude, what the hell is this? I feel like a hormonal teenage girl! Get a grip, Dakota!

"Doctor," said the star of the show. Oh God, even his voice was deep and sexy. Seriously, get a grip, Dakota! Why are you being affected so badly by one man? Focus! Don't faint, either.

I noticed Dean was just as star-struck as me; he looked down and hid his smile.

"Doctor," he addressed Sam. Sam only nodded. I had to jump a little to whack him on the back of the head.

"Doctor," Sam corrected himself.

Dr. Sexy addressed Dean, and I swore Dean went rigid. "You want to give me one good reason why you defied my direct order to do the experimental face transplant on Mrs. Biehl?"

Dean's expression went from awestruck to confused in a second. He exchanged a look with Sam and me.

"One reason?"

Dr. Sexy nodded.

"Sure."

Dean looked down, and then in the next second shoved Dr. Sexy against the wall.

"You're not Doctor Sexy," Dean growled.

"You're crazy."

"Really? Because I swore part of what makes Doctor Sexy sexy is the fact that he wears cowboy boots. Not tennis shoes."

I looked down to see Dean was right.

"Yeah," I scoffed. "You're not a fan."

"It's a guilty pleasure. You're not doing much better, nurse. You're about ready to fall on the floor."

I scowled.

"Call security," said Dr. Sexy.

"Yeah, go ahead, pal," Dean snarled. "See, we know who you are."

Some of the doctors and a security guard began to close in on us. They stopped though, mid-walk, as though they were frozen in time. Sam, Dean, and Dr. Sexy seemed to still be moving in real time along with me.

My head began to hurt. I wanted out of this place right now.

Not long after he grinned, Dr. Sexy morphed into the man I assumed to be the Trickster.

"You guys are getting better!" he crowed. I stood upright. Dean had a few inches on him, his hair looked almost as smooth (and long) as Sam's. His eyes were a rather hard color to decipher, but I had to guess either hazel or green. In my other little deductions, I noticed that the sleeves of the lab coat were too long for his arms.

"Get us the hell out of here," I demanded.

"Or what?" the Trickster said, grabbing Dean's arm and twisting it. "Don't say you have wooden stakes."

"That was you on the police scanner, right?" Sam asked. "This is a trick."

"Hello? Trickster. Come on! I heard you two yahoos were in town! How could I resist? And you"—his eyes settled on me—"I haven't had the proper pleasure of meeting you."

"Yeah, well, I don't need an introduction. I know what you are." My hands went into fists.

"Ooh, you're a fiery one. So spunky! How come she hasn't been around before?"

"New recruit," I answered. "Where the hell are we?"

"Like it?" The Trickster beamed, proud. "It's all homemade. My own sets." He tapped on the nearest window of a nearby door. "My own actors...call it my own little idiot box."

"How do we get out?"

"That, my dear lady, is the sixty-four-dollar question."

"Whatever," Sam said impatiently. "We just, we need to talk to you. We need your help."

"Hm, let me guess. You two muttonheads broke the world, and you want me to sweep up your mess."

"Please. Just five minutes. Hear us out."

"Sure. Tell you what. Survive the next twenty-four hours, we'll talk."

"Survive what?" Dean asked.

"The game!"

"What game?"

"You're in it."

"How do we play?"

"You're playing it."

"What are the rules?"

The Trickster's eyebrows raised. He grinned, then vanished into a static burst. Everyone seemed to be un-paused now, continuing business as usual.

"Oh, son of a bitch," Dean hissed.

"Doctor Sexy?" asked a blonde doctor. "Doctor Sexy?"

We three looked at each other before we followed her.

"Paging Doctor Sexy," sad the intercom. "Report to the ER."

"Oh, by the way," said Dean. "Talking with monsters? Hell of a plan."

"Just, what do we do now?" Sam asked.

"You know what I'm doing? Leaving."

I was one step ahead of her as I saw her coming. The moment Dr. Piccolo got ready to take a swing at Sam, I stepped in her way and grabbed her wrist.

"Lady, what the hell?" Sam exclaimed.

Dr. Piccolo got her wrist out of my grasp. "You are a brilliant, brilliant—"

"Yeah. A coward. You already said that. But I got news for you. I am not a doctor."

"Don't say that. You are the finest cerebrovascular neurosurgeon I have ever met, and I have met plenty. So that girl died on your table. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anybody's fault. Sometimes people just die."

This is not an encouraging speech, lady, I wanted to say.

"I have no idea what you're saying to me," Sam told her.

"You're afraid. You're afraid to operate again. And you're afraid to love." Dr. Piccolo left in a heap of tears.

"Yeah, we're getting out of here," I said shortly. We started to walk the fastest pace possible; it led me to trot after the brothers.

"Hey. Doctor," called a voice.

Dean was the one dumb enough to stop for the man. "Yeah."

"My wife needs that face transplant."

"Okay. You know what, pal? None of this is real, and your wife doesn't need jack squat. Okay?"

I whistled lowly as we began our trek again. Dean could be brutal.

"Hey, Doctor," a voice shouted.

Bang. I jumped to the side and looked over to see the man had suddenly pulled a weapon.

"Real," Dean rasped. "It's real—" He dropped to his knees. My mind made the connection pretty quickly. It's real.

Sam and I converged on Dean almost instantly. It seemed like we were the only two who instantly noticed.

"No, no, no," Sam kept saying, his voice getting louder each time, "no, no, no, no, no!"

"Hey!" I bellowed. "We need a doctor!" I looked around. Some nurses and doctors were coming to aid us right now.

This was one dangerous game the Trickster had us playing.

**I couldn't resist adding Kota into this one. Deep down, all of us know this one holds a special place in our hearts. P.S., I had to rearrange things a bit compared to how the episode worked (I know they started out with the sitcom, but I figured to be logical and not screw everyone's heads up.)

As always, fanart is encouraged!!! Highly!!!**