Reality Crisis

Sam probably shouldn't have been outside the walls on his own. In fact, Dean was probably going to kill him for that.

Assuming he made it back alive.

He hadn't seen the Netvors, though he'd heard of them. Which accounted for the blade that he was now swinging in an attempt to decapitate a few. Unfortunately, there were a lot of them. He would be able to fend at least some of them off, but he wasn't all that sure that he could fend off all of them.

Sam took a deep breath and kept swinging. He just had to focus on one at a time.

It was a good thing he never went anywhere without emergency supplies when he went somewhere under his own power. It meant he had food and water for a couple of days. Hopefully that would give him time to figure out how to get out of his predicament.

Bruce had grown too reliant on Alfred apparently. There was no radio to call for help when he needed it.

He'd been exploring outside of the city to examine a few things. Not too far from the walls so he wouldn't get caught out with the infected but there were a few places that looked like maybe they had been structures at one point. Bruce had been creeping across one of those spaces when he'd felt the ground drop out from under him. His leg had been caught under him when he fell and it took a while for the stars to clear from his vision.

It was some sort of trap. Someone had built a trap out here. But for what?

A cage had closed overhead and he couldn't use the grapple to get out.

He had until his food and water ran out to figure this out.

Spike didn't like his basement apartment.

Well, sure, it was decked out fairly nicely, and had everything he needed (including a fridge stocked with blood, and he felt like the door was decently built. But it wasn't home.

So he went out to find the nearest watering hole and get piss drunk. It really seemed like the best thing to do given the situation. Strangely, though, finding out he was a television character really wasn't the worst bit of news. After all, he appreciated the great television dramas as much as anybody else. And he knew he was damn good looking and probably, at one point, had a huge fangirl population. That was something a man could appreciate.

Still, that didn't quite make up for the fact that he was an outted vampire in a strange city with no demon underground to terrorize or rely on as he wanted. Getting to the nearest bar he sat down heavily, ordering a bottle of alcohol.