Jensen looks up as Misha drops onto the couch in the green room next to him. Sunday autographs have just finished, their final responsibility for this convention. Fuck, he’s tired.
“Hey, did you sign that book? With the map on the cover?” Misha flexes his hand, trying to work out some of the stiffness from hours of signatures.
“Maybe.” Jensen watches Misha’s hands. “Yeah? It was an actual book of fanfic, right?”
“I talked to the fan—Emmy?—a little. Apparently it’s set in endverse and another version of Dean comes back? And this is the first of a ten-book series.” Misha sounds impressed.
Jensen considers this. Ten books? He still finds the thought of fan fiction a little disconcerting, but has grown to appreciate the creative energy that fans pour into the show. Still, ten books about one episode?
“That’s a lot of drug-fueled orgies.” He grins at Misha, teasing.
Misha stops flexing his hands and smirks. “Nothing we can’t handle.” Jensen can’t quite stop the smile tugging at his lips as he lazily flips Misha off.
Misha laughs. “Maybe we should get a copy of the book, see what those orgies are like.”
Jensen shakes his head, still fighting a half-smile. He catches sight of Rob waving at them from the door. “Oh hey—looks like the dinner train is leaving.” He stands, holding out a hand to Misha.
Dean stands on top of Cas’s awesome wall, staring out over the snowy landscape without really seeing it. How crazy is his life? “No one expects the Apocalypse,” he mutters, "in a different fucking universe even.”
A hand slides around his waist, and he relaxes into the welcome warmth of the body now next to his. He had felt Cas approaching via the weird (awesome) connection they had in their heads—a bit of shimmering silver thread, tugging at his awareness. “Hey, Cas.”
Cas presses up against his side and nibbles at his ear. Dean reaches up and absently strokes Cas’s hair, still looking out over winter in Kansas. “Did I ever tell you about the time Sam and I ended up in an alternate universe where our lives were a TV show?”
Cas pulls back and looks at him. “No, I don’t believe you have.” He squints, considering. “More universes? Was it Zachariah again?”
“No, this time it was Balthazar.” Dean sighs. How did he become a toy for angels to toss around? He tightens his grip on Cas. Only one angel can toss me around.
“It was crazy. We were actors, with weird names, on a TV show. We had to pretend to be other people pretending to be Sam and Dean. And get this—Sam’s alternate reality version married Ruby.”
Cas grins at him. “Really? That must have been interesting. Was I there? Did you like me?”
Dean chokes back a laugh. “Yeah. Um. Your actor was weird—goofball, strange name. But he had you down, man—I thought he was you at first.” Dean pauses, caught in a wave of nostalgia. “But he wasn’t you. And because of that he didn’t survive his encounter with Virgil.” Dean looks over at Cas soberly. “I didn’t like seeing any version of you dead.”
Cas presses against him until Dean can feel the gun in his thigh holster cutting into his leg. “Well, then we’ll just have to make sure that doesn’t happen here.” He murmurs into Dean’s ear. “I have too many plans for you to die anytime soon in this universe.”