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Look, this whole thing is fuckin’ weird. It’s weird as shit watching girls dressed up as everyone he knows singing about his life like he isn’t standing right fuckin’ here watching it all.
Dean doesn’t want there to be a shitty musical about his life, but if there has to be, couldn’t the music be rock music? They make rock musicals, like Tommy or whatever. But no, Dean’s life has to be slow ballads that won’t ever inspire anyone. Like no way can Dean blast “I’ll Just Wait Here” to get pumped before a fight.
But still, watching him and Cas, or Siobhan and Kristen dressed as him and Cas, is what bothers Dean the most. And not because he’s got a problem being played by a chick but watching them touch, their easy affection and gentle kisses. It makes something inside Dean burn. Listening to Marie prattle on about subtext and everyone could see how in love they are and Dean feels like such an idiot. If everyone else can see it then why didn’t he? Hell, he’s seen more than these girls did. He lived it and still he’s not sure he ever looked at Cas the way those girls look at each other.
Dean pulls out his phone, staring at Cas’ contact. His heart is in his throat as he tries to talk himself out of calling while also trying to will his finger to press the fuckin’ button.
“Hey Dean?” Sam’s voice breaks through his thoughts. “All this is…” Sam lets out an exasperated breath, “it’s a lot. Like, does my hair really look like that?”
“Yeah, it does.” Dean snorts. “You look like a chick.” Dean stares down at his phone. “Don’t let it get to you. None of this,” Dean waves his hand towards the stage, “it didn’t happen like that. This is bullshit.”
“I mean, it did kinda happen like this,” Sam shrugs. “The fire, dad, you taking care of me, me leaving, us hunting after Jess died, the demons, angels, Cas. All of this happened.”
“Not the way they think it did,” Dean counters. “I mean, Cas and I don’t look at each other like that!” Dean points towards his doppelgänger, who is currently running her fingers up and down lady Cas’ arm. “And I don’t touch Cas like that.”
“Yeah,” Sam says. “You kinda do.”
Dean smacks his brother in the chest. “I do not!”
“You do though!” Sam protests. “Any time you aren’t ready to kill him you are like a walking heart eyes emoji.” Sam smacks Dean back. “And I’ll give you that maybe you don’t touch Cas like that but he touches you like that. He’s always touching you. You know he doesn’t touch me when he heals me.”
“Well, I- i mean- you- I’m always more-“ Dean sputters. “I don’t know why he doesn’t touch you!”
“Call him and ask if it bugs you so much.” Sam shrugs. “I’m going to look into some leads about the missing teacher, interview her friends. You stay here, maybe the girls will remember something.” Sam pats Dean’s shoulder and then walks away.
Dean stares at “Dean” and “Castiel” as they kiss, just a peck, but still a kiss, something inside him breaks open. Before he can talk himself out of it, Dean is calling Castiel. Each ring increases the knots in Dean’s stomach.
“Hello, Dean,” Castiel’s gravelly voice, usually so comforting, only increases the panic he feels. “Are you well?”
“I’m fine Cas,” Dean can’t help the smile spreading across his lips. “I just, uh, I just wanted to say hi I guess, felt inspired.”
“Yes well, I have things to do so if you want to say hi again, send me a text message. Goodbye Dean.”
Dean stares at his phone, annoyed, amused, and just a little shocked Castiel hung up on him.
“Agent Smith?” Marie calls. Dean turns to look at the short girl with more confidence than sense. “Can you sit down? I’m trying to direct.”
Dean nods and turns in a circle before sitting down, watching the terribly written parody of his life where he gets something he can't admit he wants and will never have.