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Deadline, May 2, 2008 

Exclusive: ‘On the Road’ Welcomes Newcomer Dean Winchester as Season Four Regular 

Scout Lakewood has a new best friend. 

National Broadcast Network announced in a press release Friday that Dean Winchester is joining the cast of ‘On the Road’ in the series regular role of Finn Norwalk, Scout Lakewood’s best friend. A fellow drifter and dropout, he’ll fit right in with Scout, Peter, Margo, and Zoe.

Winchester is new on the scene with only one professional acting credit under his belt, the soap opera ‘Down by the Water.’ Winchester will be joining the main cast, which features Castiel Novak, Gabriel Milton, Rowena MacLeod, and Charlie Bradbury.

Season three of ‘On the Road’ averaged ten million viewers per episode with the finale drawing in twelve million viewers. The series has earned seven Emmy Awards, including Outstanding Lead Actor in a Comedy Series for Castiel Novak, making him the youngest winner of the category in Emmy history.

‘On the Road’ follows Scout Lakewood, a college dropout who road trips around the country with his friends as he searches for happiness, purpose, and hope. The series is created and executive produced by TV veteran Marv Armstrong.

Season four begins filming this summer and is set to premiere this September on NBN.

If there’s one thing Cas can count on, it’s rain in Vancouver.

He’s made his peace with the rain after being caught in a torrential downpour. And after being forced to power through multiple scenes while completely drenched because umbrellas aren’t the look Marv is going for.

No matter that Cas has to spend extra time in hair and makeup to look presentable again. Anything to prevent his character from holding an umbrella.

The first preproduction day of any shoot is exactly what Cas thinks the first day of school is supposed to feel like. Not that he’s ever gone to a traditional school. Growing up on sets and having studio teachers and being homeschooled left little room for a conventional education experience. His education was never all that important. At best, it was an afterthought to his acting career, a nuisance that was finally swept under the rug along with a diploma the day he turned eighteen.

Cas prefers the first preproduction day of a TV show rather than the first preproduction day of a film. Films are great, they’re part of the reason he has the notoriety that he does, but he got his start in TV. He went the traditional child actor route, not that he had much of a choice. From commercials as a baby to guest spots as a toddler to sitcoms as a child. He likes the longevity of TV, something films don’t tend to offer. He likes being in one place with the same schedule for nine months of the year. He likes that he gets to establish a routine, work with the same people, and not have to wonder about what he’s doing in a few months. On the first day of a TV show, he can relax knowing nothing out of the ordinary is going to happen for the next nine months.

He especially likes TV shows that come back for another season. On the Road is rolling into its fourth season with Cas at the wheel. He can say without a doubt that it’s his favorite project he’s ever worked on. Not just because he’s the lead or because he’s found real friendship with his co-stars, but because of the story.

Marv conceived On the Road after dropping out of college his senior year. He packed up his car, hit the road with his best friend and not much else, and went searching for what it all means.

It’s a story Cas has heard countless times, whether during interviews or press circuits or when Marv feels like holding court. A part of Cas is jealous, wishing he could be brave enough to leave in the middle of the night in an attempt to find himself. But at least he’s got the second best thing. He’s playing the fictional version of a guy who had the balls to leave.

He’s barely in his trailer five minutes before there’s a knock at the door. When he answers, Charlie goes straight for him, wrapping her arms around him.

“We’re back!”

“I missed you, Charlie.”

She grins as she pulls away from him, plopping down on the sofa and helping herself to the gift basket Cas hasn’t even had a chance to open yet. “I wanna hear all about your movie. What’s Tara Benchley like?”

“She’s nice,” Cas says. He moves about his trailer, putting away the few things he brought with him. Changes of clothes, extra phone chargers. “She’s kinda quiet, I guess.”

“Was she a diva?”

“Not really,” he shrugs. “Just kinda normal.”

“Ugh, of course you’d say that,” she rolls her eyes. “Unless they’re pitching a fit, you say that everyone’s normal.”

“I kinda keep to myself on set.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Charlie leans forward, pops a lollipop in her mouth. “The new guy is here.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t be like that. Why are you so mad about Marv writing in a new character?”

“I just don’t think it’s necessary,” Cas says. “Are we not good enough to carry the show on our own? Why bring in someone new? It’s not even a stunt cast.”

“He’s the showrunner,” she says. “Maybe it’s a network thing.”

“It feels weird they wouldn’t even do a chemistry read.”

“I read with him.”

Cas looks up at her. “What? When?”

“Over the summer,” she shrugs. “Some of us use the break to relax and not film movies. I had an open schedule.”

“So what’s he like?”

“Dean,” she says pointedly, “is great. Kind of a nerd, but hides that side of himself. Hardworking. Passionate. Stupidly talented.”

“You got all that from one chemistry read?”

“We had time to chat,” she says. “I looked him up later. He moved to LA when he was eighteen and was on a soap opera for a few years before booking this.”

“Are you serious?” Cas asks. “His only experience is a soap?”

“Don’t knock it til you try it,” Charlie says. “Watch him work. You’ll see. Marv wouldn’t have cast him if he didn’t have the talent.”

“I guess.”

“And give him a chance. He really is a nice guy.”

“It’s a job, Charlie, not a place to make friends.”

“You’re friends with everyone else.”

“Incidentally,” Cas says. “If friendship happens, friendship happens. I won’t pretend to be friends with this guy just to keep the peace.”

“Probably for the best. You’re a great actor, but a shitty liar.”

“Alright, I think we’re all here.”

Cas lets his eyes wander around the room as he takes in the familiar faces from his place next to Marv. He looks down at the script in front of him, already four rounds of revisions different from the one sent to him last week. The cover page looks the same as it always does, show name and logo proudly displayed along with the episode title front and center and the crew tucked away in the bottom left corner. Cas flips open the first page, reading over the main cast list. Call him vain, but he’ll never tire of seeing his name at the top of the list. He’s worked his whole life for that privilege and he’s proud of where he is now.

It also elates him to see Gabe, Rowena, and Charlie’s names directly under his own. They’re a team and have been for going on four years now.

The only thing out of the ordinary is the name Dean Winchester tacked on at the bottom.

The man in question sits several seats away from Cas, between Gabe and one of the producers. Cas carefully avoided any greetings before Marv called for everyone’s attention, happy to push introductions as long as he can. From what he could tell during his read through of the script last week, his and Dean’s characters are supposed to be fast friends.

“Before we get started, I’d just like to welcome back our returning cast and crew to season four,” Marv says. He pauses, prompting a round of applause. Cas follows suit even though it feels weird that they’re clapping for themselves. “And, of course, I’d like to extend a hearty welcome to the newcomers this season.”

Cas glances at Dean, immediately blushing when he sees Dean already looking at him. He quickly diverts his attention to the left, face growing even hotter when he realizes Gabe caught that interaction. He shakes his head at Gabe’s growing smile.

“When I was twenty-two years old and aimlessly driving around the country, I had no idea I was collecting stories. I didn’t think for a second that I’d be here, almost twenty years later, sharing those stories for millions of people to enjoy. This show is my heart and soul, and I’m honored that all of you are here to help realize that dream.

“With all that said, let’s begin. The first episode of season four of On the Road is called ‘Back in Black.’ It is written and directed by yours truly. It stars Castiel Novak as Scout Lakewood. Gabriel Milton plays Peter Montrose. Rowena MacLeod plays Margo Canyon. Charlie Bradbury plays Zoe Claremont. And introducing Dean Winchester as Finn Norwalk.”

Dean actually stands up when his name is called, waving and winking around the room to everyone clapping. He’s on his feet for less than ten seconds, but it’s enough time for Cas to decide he does not like Dean. Who the hell does this guy think he is, walking onto set and acting like he’s top dog? Cas thinks someone should put him in his place.

“We’re happy to have you here, Dean,” Marv chuckles when Dean sits back down. “Alright, if everyone will open their scripts to page four, we’ll begin with act one.”

“Hey.”

Cas looks up from his script, eyes narrowed as he spots Dean in front of him, blocking the afternoon sun. Cas is currently sitting in the Impala, the same exact make and model of the car Marv toured around the country in. Having now driven it himself, albeit for the show, Cas has become attached. If the car is parked and Cas isn’t needed on set, sometimes he’ll choose to hang out in the car instead of his trailer. When he does, people tend to leave him alone.

“Hello,” Cas says, figuring he should remain polite.

“I didn’t really get a chance to introduce myself before the table read,” Dean says. “I’m Dean.”

“Castiel Novak,” Cas says. He holds a hand out.

“Yeah, dude, I think everyone on the planet knows who you are,” Dean chuckles. He looks down at Cas’s hand, waiting a second before giving it a shake. “Gotta admit, Chicagoland was my favorite sitcom growing up. You were so funny on that show.”

“It’s easy to be funny when you have people writing for you.”

“Yeah, but your comedic timing was perfect. That’s just natural talent.”

“Thank you,” Cas says, knowing how to accept compliments at this point.

He always finds it odd when people praise the acting he did as a child. It’s not like he was doing anything worthwhile when he was three and just repeating back lines that were fed to him off camera because he couldn’t yet read a script.

“I got in trouble at school once for saying the word assbutt,” Dean says with a smile. “My first ever detention at seven years old.”

Cas grimaces. “That catchphrase is going to haunt me the rest of my life.”

“Yeah, but it’s iconic,” Dean says. “Hey, in that one episode where you had to spout off, like, fifty digits of pi, how the hell did you memorize all that?”

“You’d be surprised at the strength of a child actor’s memory.”

“Do you still know it all?”

“I could maybe remember ten digits.”

“Fair enough,” Dean says. He takes a step to the side to run his hand along the Impala’s hood. “The car looks way sicker in person. Can’t wait to ride in it.”

“It’s much less exciting than you’d think,” Cas says. “The engine doesn’t make any noise so they add that in during post. It breaks down sometimes because it’s such an old car. They had to take out the horn and the radio because Gabe kept messing around with it. They have about five more of them in prop storage, but this is the main one we use.”

“Did the car actually get wrecked in the season one finale?”

“One of the versions of the car is pre-wrecked.”

“Damn, movie magic,” Dean breathes, taking a step back. “Guess you really don’t wanna know how the sausage gets made.”

“Not many people do,” Cas tells him, eyes falling back to his script. He feels Dean still hovering around him, but refuses to look up. Maybe Dean will take the hint.

“So I was thinking,” Dean continues. “Maybe we could rehearse sometime. We have a few scenes together in this first episode. You could show me the ropes or something.”

“We can rehearse if you want,” Cas says, looking up at him. “I’m sure you’ll figure out the ropes in your own time.”

“Can’t even throw me a bone, man?”

“Dean, all my time is spent reading a script or in a meeting or preparing for another project. I barely have time to sleep, let alone time to hold your hand.”

Cas knows that wasn’t the kindest thing to say, the sudden darkness clouding Dean’s eyes is evidence of that, but someone’s gotta break him sooner or later. And the sooner Dean realizes that he’s alone in this world he’s thrust himself into, the better. Cas grew up in these shark-infested waters. Most people wouldn’t survive an hour in this life.

“Guess they were right when they said never meet your heroes,” Dean mutters.

“I’m just an actor, Dean.” He turns his attention back to his script. “Let me know when you want to rehearse.”

He doesn’t look up again, but does see Dean leave out of his peripheral vision. He only glances up when he’s sure it’s safe. It’s just crew milling about now, getting things ready for when they start shooting later this week. Dean’s parked himself in his director’s chair, script in lap. Cas can see from here the way Dean’s leg moves up and down incessantly. He feels for the guy, he knows intimately what it’s like to feel lonely on set.

But Cas has seen more than enough Dean Winchesters throughout his career. He’s not gonna waste his time on a guy who probably won’t last five years in LA. Dean’s the one who gave up the possibility of a normal life in search of fame and fortune. He has no obligation to befriend Dean just because their characters are friends.

“Cut!”

Cas waits with bated breath as Marv walks onto set, nodding his head in silence as he looks at each of the actors. His eyes linger on Cas the longest, and Cas doesn’t let that shake him. He stands firm, spine straight and not moving. Nothing like Dean, who leans against the car with an easy smile like he’s been here since day one.

“Cas,” Marv says. “Do you think you can try that again? Maybe throw in a little more emotion this time.”

Cas hates the snicker that Dean lets out. “Scout is a serious character.”

“Yeah, serious. Not a robot.”

“Fine.”

“There we go. From Charlie’s last line.”

Cas uses the note in his next take. Not that it was much of a note. But Marv is known for throwing certain looks or gesturing vaguely and expecting them to get the hint, so Cas should feel lucky he got actual words this time.

They finish the rest of the scene uninterrupted. Cas strips off his flannel as soon as Marv yells cut and hands it over to the nearest PA. He sits next to Gabe and Rowena on the sidelines as Marv sets up the next shot with Dean and Charlie.

“So how do you think the new guy is doing?” Gabe asks, tossing back trail mix as he speaks.

“I rehearsed with him earlier while they were blocking,” Rowena says. “He definitely has the talent. That’s for sure.”

“He’s fine,” Cas says. His eyes are stuck on Dean and Charlie laughing over something together. He doesn’t know why the sight pisses him off so much.

“I haven’t seen much of his work yet, but he seems to be fitting in,” Gabe says. “What about you, Cas? You’ve had some scenes with him already.”

“Like I said. Fine.”

He feels Gabe and Rowena exchanging a look over his head, but doesn’t bother entertaining it.

“Someone’s jealous,” Rowena says.

“Worried he’s gonna overtake you as prettiest boy in Hollywood?” Gabe smirks.

“I’m worried his naivety and lack of professionalism will hurt our chances of coming back for a fifth season.”

Gabe and Rowena seem to get the hint that Cas doesn’t want to discuss Dean, easily changing the conversation to something Cas can’t even pretend to follow.

All his attention is stuck on Dean.

Over the years, Cas learned how to spot the new person on a set. Nine times out of ten, it’s the person who spends a majority of their down time hanging around craft services.

Cas supposes he would do the same thing if this was all new to him. He remembers when he was younger and other child actors were frequently cycled through as guest actors on whatever project he was working on, and a majority of the inexperienced ones would be stuffing their faces with chips and candy at the craft table.

He particularly remembers one time a kid made themselves sick from all the food they ate and was promptly replaced when they were too sick to perform. Cas remembers the disapproving frown his mom wore when he recounted the story.

“I know I don’t have to worry about that with you,” his mom had said. “You’re a professional.”

Cas might have not even been double digits at the time, but he was already a seasoned vet.

Dean isn’t shoving his face with food, but Cas has rarely seen him without a snack during this first week on set. He’s also engaging in the only other newbie activity Cas is familiar with.

Eating lunch alone.

Cas has eaten alone on set plenty of times, especially when his lunch was scheduled at inopportune times. Sometimes he chooses to eat alone or stay in his trailer, needing to focus on a specific scene he’s trying to nail down. But usually when he observes other people eating alone, he notices that they’re new on set.

On this set, Cas usually eats with Gabe, Charlie, and Rowena. Their AD always tries to schedule the four of them to have their lunch hour coincide.

That’s something Marv was always insistent on. Their friendship has to be genuine, in front of and behind the camera. If they secretly hated each other, the show wouldn’t work. Cas likes to think he’s a good enough actor that it wouldn’t matter if he secretly hated his co-stars. Thankfully, he doesn’t have to worry about that since they all have genuinely become friends. Cas knows he’s the odd man out here. Gabe, Charlie, and Rowena all have friends outside of the show. They have friends from home and school and previous projects. The friendship on set is just a bonus.

Cas can’t remember a time he had a friend outside of whatever current project he was working on. Gabe, Charlie, and Rowena are pretty much the only friends he has right now. He hates how that friendship might fizzle out whenever the show ends, but he accepts that’s just a normal part of his life.

“I kinda feel bad for him.”

Cas looks up from his food to see Rowena nodding toward Dean, a few tables down as he sits alone with a plate of food and a script.

“I’ll invite him to join us,” Charlie says, already getting up. “We all remember our first day on set.”

“I don’t,” Cas says.

Gabe rolls his eyes. “Not all of us started acting straight out of the womb.”

“Oh, Cas, I bet you were the cutest baby,” Rowena says.

“I don’t know. Apparently, I once got myself fired because I threw up on some executive.”

Gabe and Rowena laugh, and Dean and Charlie are all smiles as they sit down with them. Dean parks himself right next to Cas.

“What’d we miss?” Charlie asks.

“Cas apparently wasn’t always the consummate professional we see before us,” Gabe says.

“I got fired from a commercial shoot when I was six months old.”

“I might have you beat,” Gabe says. “I was in the final round of callbacks for Home Alone and pretty much bedridden with the flu. My parents brought me to the audition anyway and I threw up in the room in front of all the producers.”

“That does not surprise me,” Rowena says.

“Wait, Home Alone?” Dean asks. “Like the Home Alone?”

“Yup,” Gabe says. “You’d be surprised at some of the stuff we’ve auditioned for.”

“I auditioned for Titanic,” Rowena says. “A little girl who gets saved. They said my hair was too red.”

“Wow,” Dean says. “Couldn’t you have dyed it?”

“No role is worth that,” Rowena says.

“I’ve gotten that feedback before,” Charlie says. “I went blonde for about a year because of that. But then I was cast in a show and they wanted a redhead. I felt like the universe did that just to laugh at me.”

“Damn,” Dean laughs. “What about you, Novak? Ever had to change up your look for a role?”

“Not permanently,” Cas says. “But once I played the younger version of a character on a TV show and the regular actor had brown eyes. They had me wear colored contacts and I could barely see out of them.”

“Can’t they just fix that in post?” Dean asks.

“Special effects have come a long way since the nineties,” Cas says.

“So, Dean,” Gabe says. “Tell us about you.”

Dean shrugs, easy smile on his face as he pokes at his food. “What do you wanna know?”

“Where are you from?” Rowena asks.

“Kansas,” Dean says. “Born and raised. Lived there up until I was eighteen and moved out to LA.”

“You didn’t do much acting before this, right?” Charlie asks.

“Well, I was on a soap for a few years,” Dean says. “I enjoyed it, but I knew daytime wasn’t for me. Everything is pretty much just one take.”

“Holy moly,” Charlie breathes out.

“Yeah, well, when they’re releasing five episodes a week,” Dean shrugs. “But it led me to this, so can’t complain.”

“Did you act as a kid?” Gabe asks.

“Nah,” Dean says. “My parents are the least showbiz type people ever. I was in school plays and did community theater, but that was the extent of it. When I was a kid, I begged my parents to move us to LA so I could be on TV. My mom was very much against it.”

Cas doesn’t think he’s ever heard of someone’s parents not wanting them to act. He can’t even count the number of times he’s witnessed other kids crying on set and their parent telling them to pull it together.

“At least you got to be a kid,” Charlie says.

“Looking back, I appreciate what she was doing,” Dean says. “I’m sure my parents were just trying to protect me. It’s a tough industry.”

“Well, you seem to have gotten lucky so far,” Cas says.

“It’s not luck, man, it’s talent,” Dean defends.

“You’re on a Marv Armstrong show after being in LA for a few years,” Cas says. “There’s some luck involved in that.”

“Maybe luck, maybe talent. But now we’re sitting at the same table.”

“Talk to me when your name is at the top of the call sheet.”

Dean doesn’t immediately respond, brows shooting up before he quicky corrects himself. Then he says, “You’ve really got the Hollywood asshole thing down.”

“He’s only like this more than half the time,” Gabe says. “You grow to love him.”

“Thanks, Gabe,” Cas glares.

“I don’t know about that,” Dean says. “Though I will say that any starstruck feelings I had were pretty much gone after the first day.”

“Good,” Cas says, picking up his food and standing up from the table.

He knows he’s being kind of a dick as he walks off, the hushed whispers of his friends from behind him only exacerbating that, but Cas tries to put all that out of his mind. It doesn’t matter if people think he’s an asshole. The only thing that matters is if people think he’s a good actor.

“Cut. Cas, act like the hood’s resisting, okay?”

“Got it.”

“Action.”

Cas opens the hood of the Impala again, this time acting like he’s struggling to get it open. He huffs out a breath once he has it propped up, leaning forward to act like he’s inspecting the engine.

“Something’s leaking,” Dean says from next to him.

“Yeah, not a good sign,” Cas says, standing back up. “I should have it fixed up in no time.”

“Should we call someone?” Dean asks as Cas grabs a toolbox from the trunk. “A leak seems like a serious issue.”

“Maybe to an amateur,” Cas says. He throws Dean a wink. “You’re in good hands, Norwalk.”

“Scout to the rescue. Again.” Dean reaches into the car for the cooler. “Beer?”

“Sure,” Cas says, taking the offered beer. He takes a sip of it before setting it on the ground. Non-alcoholic, obviously. He’s thankful props supplied apple juice at least. Prop alcohol has always tasted like ass to him.

He and Dean get through most of the scene unscathed. As much as Cas dislikes Dean and how unpolished he is, at least he seems to pull it together whenever Marv calls action.

Just as Cas is finishing his monologue about how his father was a mechanic and how Scout grew up learning about cars from him, Dean kicks his leg out and accidentally knocks over Cas’s beer.

“Shit,” Dean says, leaning down to grab it. “Sorry.”

“Cut!”

“I’m really sorry,” Dean says as Marv approaches them on set. “Won’t happen again.”

“It’s fine. We needed another take anyway,” Marv says. “Cas, you’re speaking to the hood.”

“Scout doesn’t like opening up to people, especially about his father,” Cas says. “I don’t think he would want to open up to someone this quickly.”

“Scout and Finn have a connection. A bond,” Marv says. He’s gesturing wildly like that’ll make any kind of difference. “They see a piece of themselves in each other. They like each other. Act like it, will you?”

“Fine.”

“Great,” Marv says, clapping him on the shoulder. “Let’s reset.”

They go through the scene again. Sometimes Cas wonders how much of his life is repeating the same words over and over. When they get to the point of the scene where Dean stands over the hood with him, Cas does his best to relax his body and open himself up. As much as he loves the character of Scout, Cas knows he’s nothing like him. In fact, sometimes he wishes he was more like Scout. Carefree and confident and fiercely loyal to his friends. Willing to trust easily despite being repeatedly beaten down by life.

Cas doesn’t have a clear line of sight from where his and Dean’s hands are inside the engine, but the sharp sting that slices through his hand is strong. He remains unmoving and unspeaking despite the pain. It’s not the first time he’s had to keep a straight face because the cameras are rolling. Next to him, Dean’s lack of experience shines through as he breaks character by cursing and pulling his hand out of the engine.

“Cut! Dean, are you okay?”

“There was something in the engine,” Cas says, pulling his hand out and examining it. There’s a trickle of blood falling down the outside of his wrist, matching Dean’s. “I think a piece of metal got us.”

“Can we get the medic over here?” Marv calls. “Guys, careful with the blood.”

Someone hands them some wadded up paper towels. Cas immediately applies pressure to the cut, following Dean as they head over to their director’s chairs. He glances over, relieved to see that Dean doesn’t look to be in pain. Maggie, the on-set medic, is on them quick, ointment and bandages at the ready.

“Are you boys okay?” Marv asks.

“Barely a paper cut,” Dean says.

“We’ll break for five,” Marv says. “Then we go again.”

“So,” Dean says when they’re alone again. “That kinda thing happen often?”

“Takes get messed up for various reasons,” Cas says. He stares straight ahead as he watches the crew reset to go again.

“They rarely let you go again on soaps,” Dean says. “Once my co-star got a bloody nose in the middle of a scene. They just made sure she wasn’t in the camera’s line of sight and called it a day.”

“We do things differently here,” Cas says. “Cameras stop rolling when blood starts pouring.”

“It’s important to draw the line somewhere.”

Cas grants him the tiniest of smiles.

“The leak isn’t a new issue, but the alternator seems to be on the fritz.”

“Wait, sorry, I just…” Cas stares in shock as Dean goes off script and looks over at Marv. “This is all wrong.”

“Cut!” Marv takes off his headphones. “Dean, is there a reason we’re stopping again?”

“Sorry, it’s just…” Dean looks back at the car and then at Marv. “The alternator is busted and the engine is leaking, right? We’re supposed to be in the middle of nowhere. There’s no way that car is actually moving.”

“You’re saying Scout can’t fix it on his own?”

“Maybe we break down and he has to change a tire,” Dean shrugs. “But he would need to take it to a shop to repair the other stuff.”

That gets Marv out of his seat. He saunters over, Dean and Cas scurrying out of the way for Marv to peek under the hood, like he’d actually find any kind of problem with the engine. He smiles as he looks up again, first catching Cas’s eyes before turning to Dean.

“Dean, I appreciate your desire for authenticity.”

“Thank you.”

“But we are on a TV set. We’re not talking about switching out a line or two. We’re talking about rewriting an entire scene, and subsequently, the rest of the episode. To unravel the thread would call for props and set dec and at least an extra day that we don’t have. Are you volunteering yourself and everyone involved with this production to come in on their day off in the name of authenticity?”

“No, sir.”

“Great,” Marv says. “Glad you agree. We’ll do the scene as written. From the top, everyone. And anyone who even thinks about interrupting should start praying now.”

Dean learns to shut up quick, only speaking when the script calls for it. Cas doesn’t make eye contact with him, just focuses on getting through the scene as quickly as possible.

Cas thinks about the very first time he received a script for On the Road and how his very first question was about the car. Why on earth would anyone road trip around in such an old car? He can’t imagine Marv had an easy time driving around in it. It probably gets terrible mileage and it looks like it might break down every ten miles. If Scout was smart, he would trade in the Impala for a Honda Civic.

But Cas kept those thoughts to himself because critiquing the script never gets you a callback.

Cas lifts the hood of the Impala, breathing out like it’s a challenge and not like it’s because he’s done the same move two dozen times over by this point. They usually don’t have to go through this many takes, but Marv keeps finding something he’s unhappy with. Cas is no stranger to long shoot days, but this specific day and scene are starting to get to him. He thinks he would feel differently if it was one of his friends by his side instead of Dean.

It's only a couple hours of overtime turning the day into a fourteen-hour one. It’s nowhere close to the most egregious day of Cas’s career, but he is aware of how unnecessary it is. He’s aware the crew are probably pissed that he and Dean had to spend extra hours going through the same scene over and over. Marv sounded angrier and angrier each time he yelled cut. Usually Marv doesn’t start getting pissed until at least a month into the season.

A PA is on him the second he steps out of his trailer. “Marv wants to see you in his office.”

Cas doesn’t bother hiding his frustration. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

“He was insistent.”

“Fine.”

Marv’s office is located among a series of portable buildings on the edge of the lot. They’re definitely a step up from an actual trailer, almost believably looking like real offices. The producers’ offices and video village are located here. Cas doesn’t spend a lot of time here, usually only when Marv calls him to his office, which is an infrequent occasion.

When Cas steps inside, Marv is already mid-monologue to Dean. Cas slips onto the couch seamlessly and turns his attention to Marv like he was here the whole time.

“Cas, have I ever told you about the time I was a PA on Breakfast at Tiffany’s?”

“No,” Cas says, which is the truth. He politely doesn’t mention how Marv’s worked on almost a hundred projects during his career, and that in the years Cas has known him, he always manages to pull out a new anecdote when the situation calls for it.

“I was fresh off my road trip. I had realized what I wanted to do with my life.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “I wanted to tell stories.” He smiles and nods in the way a guy working in showbusiness for the past forty years would. “More specifically, I wanted to tell my story. I wanted to share On the Road with the world. But the world wasn’t ready for that yet. And to tell you the truth, I wasn’t ready then either.

“Even so, I walked around with my manuscript like someone would ask to read it at the drop of a hat. Hollywood was different back in the day. You could get away with more stuff. People were less guarded. You could smoke on a closed set. Well, you could, but the director would get mad if there was any smoke on camera.

“Off-screen smoking was banned on Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Audrey was livid. She was a chain smoker at the time. I’m talking packs a day. I can’t tell you how many times I was ordered to bring Audrey in for a scene and found her smoking just off set. She once offered me fifty dollars to sneak her cigarettes. There was an executive producer she hated, God knows why, and she refused to work if he was on set. They had to set him up in a trailer with a walkie talkie.

“Some people say the movie was a flop at the time, but it gave me the connections I needed. I promised every actor I could talk to that they’d have a part in my script. Too bad the show is getting made today. Mickey Rooney was who I wanted for Scout.”

Cas doesn’t bat an eye at that, doesn’t flinch either when he feels Dean’s eyes swing over to him. Maybe Dean doesn’t get it, but he’ll learn soon enough. An executive snaps their fingers and they’re replaced without a second thought.

“I’m happy with the show we’re making,” Marv says. He wanders over to his overflowing bookshelf, pulling out a couple copies of his autobiography and hands them over. Already signed, Cas notes as he looks down at the book in his lap. “There’s magic here. I hope you both feel it.”

Dean and Cas nod, still silent.

“Castiel,” Marv says. For the first time, Cas feels like he has a purpose in this conversation. “When you put on the flannel and step onto set, you are not Castiel Novak. You do not have Castiel Novak’s problems or thoughts or feelings. You are Scout Lakewood. You’re a drifter. You’re troubled. You’re a leader. You have four friends who look to you for guidance and answers.”

Cas nods, keeping quiet. He’s gotten the rundown before, but never like this and never from Marv. It kind of hurts that just one week with Dean Winchester on set has Cas getting chewed out like acting isn’t in his blood, like his first words and steps weren’t on camera.

Marv turns back around, grabbing a sheet of paper from his desk. “People will only believe you two are best friends if there’s a friendship off screen as well. Dean and Castiel don’t need to be best friends, but they need to get along.” Marv hands the paper to Cas. “A list of bars, restaurants, and other fun things to do around Vancouver. We have the day off Sunday. I want you two to spend time together. Play video games in your apartment or go mini golfing or get drunk. I don’t care. But there better be a real friendship here when we start bright and early on Monday.”

“Understood.”

“Got it, captain.”

“Great,” Marv claps. “Dismissed.”

Cas is a step ahead of Dean as they leave the office, hurrying to his driver who’s been waiting in the same spot for hours now. Cas would feel bad if the studio hadn’t hired the guy specifically to drive the actors around whenever they need it. At least Garth still gets paid when he’s stuck waiting around for hours.

Cas enjoys the show’s pick-up and drop-off service, never having had that before. Most of his life was spent with his parents being the ones driving him to and from set. It was an exciting day when he was sixteen, new license and car at the ready as he drove himself to work for the very first time.

Now, Cas is thankful for the show taking care of his commute. He’s exhausted, his wrist still kind of stings, and the last thing he wants to do right now is drive.

Then again, if he was driving himself, he wouldn’t have to share a car with Dean. Cas would rather listen to another hour of Marv monologuing than spend more time with Dean.

“We don’t actually have to hang out,” Dean says. “I’m sure you wanna do something worthwhile on your day off.”

“We should spend time together,” Cas says. “Pick something from the list. I don’t have a preference.”

“You clearly don’t wanna hang out.”

“No,” Cas says. “But I agree with Marv that we need to get along.”

“And a forced playdate is gonna accomplish that? You clearly have a problem with me.”

“Just pick something from the list.”

“Fine. Let’s go mini golfing.”

“Fine,” Cas huffs. He doesn’t think he’s been mini golfing in his whole life. “I’ll let Marv know. He’ll get one of the PAs to set it up and he’ll assign someone from security to come with us.”

“Is that really necessary?”

Cas smiles for the first time all night, reminded again at how naive Dean is. “Just wait until season four airs. You’ll never go grocery shopping in peace again.”

“I don’t mind,” Dean says. “It’s cool that people know me. I’ve been stopped before, but it’s pretty rare and it’s usually women in their fifties.”

“Report back to me in a year,” Cas says. “The cashier recognized me when I was sixteen and buying condoms for the first time. I wanted to die.”

“Yikes,” Dean laughs, shaking his head. “And that’s why I’m glad my parents kept me out of the spotlight before I was eighteen.”

Cas smiles politely, looking back out the window. A part of him feels like he has a duty to Dean, to tell him it’s not too late to turn back, to save himself. Cas feels like he’s watching a mouse happily crawl in the cage for the cheese despite knowing the end result. He wonders if it’s at all possible to save him.

Cas gets dropped off first, giving Dean one last nod and Garth a quick thanks before he’s heading into his building.

He’s lived in the same apartment for the first three years of shooting. It was at the top of the studio-provided list of nearby apartments, and also at the top of the list of Chuck Shurley and Naomi Novak approved apartments. Cas signed the lease without a second thought, nodding in approval when he moved in and actually saw the place for the first time.

It came furnished, which was all Cas cared about. He didn’t want to worry about furnishing an apartment. He just needs a place to sleep and work.

He makes quick work of showering and getting ready for bed. He ate dinner at the studio, scarfing down a salad on a five minute break while the crew reset a scene. The exhaustion hits him suddenly as he lies in bed and stares at Vancouver out of his floor to ceiling windows. The lights are bright, but he’s too tired to get up and pull down the shades.

He glances at the clock and sighs as he shuts his eyes. His call time is in six hours. He better savor his sleep now.

Chapter Text

“Have you read next week’s script?”

Cas holds up the script in question in front of the camera to appease his parents. “It’s good. Made some notes. Nothing out of the ordinary. A bit of a filler episode.”

“Good, no curveballs,” his mom nods approvingly. “Is Marv directing again?”

“Yup,” Cas says, drumming his fingers against the desk. “I’m told we have a few new directors lined up for later this season, but it’s just been him so far.”

“Anyone noteworthy?” his dad asks.

“Not that I know of,” Cas says. “A lot of repeats from last seasons. Mostly TV directors.”

“Well, put your best food forward, son.”

“I will.”

“We’ve had a couple meetings with some folks at Paramount,” Mom says. “We were talking about some upcoming projects for next summer. No scripts yet, but there’s potential.”

“Okay,” Cas says. “Features?”

“Yes. One of the films is centered around a high schooler so I’m pushing for something else. On the Road is great at showcasing you’re not a kid anymore. We can’t go back to the teenage roles.”

“Fine by me,” Cas says, happy to leave acting as a teen behind him. His teen years were hard enough. He doesn’t ever want to pretend he’s sixteen again.

“I was told production for one of the projects is in the spring so if you’re hired for that one, we’d have to work out the scheduling. That shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Just tell me when the auditions are and send me the sides whenever you get them,” Cas says.

“There’s a rumor going around that Michael Cohen is already signed on to one of the projects,” Mom says. “Wouldn’t it be nice to work with him again?”

Cas keeps his face neutral as his blood runs cold. “Yes.”

“You two had such great chemistry on screen,” Dad says. “He’s been working nonstop lately.”

“I know,” Cas says. Sometimes he feels like every new movie has Michael featured front and center on the poster. Cas can never escape.

His parents smile at each other before looking back at the screen. Cas returns their smiles, suddenly feeling very far away from them. He remembers back when he booked On the Road a few years ago and was making plans to temporarily move to Vancouver for filming, he and his parents decided that since he was eighteen, he was old enough to move out there alone.

Being truly alone in a strange apartment in a strange city at eighteen was one of the loneliest times of Cas’s life. It’s not like he had any friends he could call. All he had was himself. It was far from the first time he had temporarily moved by himself to a new city for a project, but he had never been that far away from his parents for that long before.

He tried to make himself feel better, comparing it to what kids must feel when their parents drop them off at college. Except unlike those kids who are surrounded by people their own age, Cas was brought right to a TV set. Maybe that wasn’t the worst thing in the world since a set, any set, is home away from home for him. But it still would have been nice if his parents had stuck around for at least the first couple days.

“You’ll probably be in your mid-twenties by the time On the Road finishes,” Mom says, her attention turning to a different computer off to the side as she starts typing. “I think by then we can make the full transition to films. You don’t want to be stuck doing TV forever.”

“Right,” Cas says. A part of him hopes On the Road lasts another ten seasons. He loves the show enough that he’d happily stay that long. Maybe Dean will get written off in the next year or two and everything can go back to how Cas likes.

“Great,” Mom says, continuing to type. “Anything else to report? Marv mentioned you were having trouble with the new series regular.”

“Marv told on me?”

“No, no,” Dad says. “We email on occasion. He said you two were clashing, but he’s handling it.”

“Yes,” Cas says. “Actually, we’re hanging out today. Getting to know each other better.”

“Good,” Mom says. “That’ll be good for the show and it’ll keep Marv happy.”

Cas nods, eyes falling to next week’s script on his desk. He draws circles around Marv’s name printed on the front page.

“Well, if that’s all,” Mom says.

“Wait,” Cas says. “How’s everything in LA?”

“Warm,” Dad chuckles. “Heatwave at the moment.”

“Cloudy too,” Mom says. “Sun hasn’t come out in about a week.”

“Oh,” Cas says. “It’s been raining hard here, but it’s sunny today.”

“Count yourself lucky,” Dad says.

A stretch of silence as Cas tries to come up with something else to say. His mom cuts in before he can get any other words out.

“We’ll speak to you next week,” she says. “Call or email us if anything comes up.”

“I will.”

They say their goodbyes and log off. Cas shuts his laptop, looking around his room. There’s an old photo of him and his parents at a red carpet event. The three of them are grinning ear to ear as he holds up some sort of award. He doesn’t know how old he is in the photo, probably sometime before he turned double digits, and it wasn’t his first time winning something, but he remembers it being still new enough that he loved it. He loved the praise from his parents and fans and journalists and network execs, and he especially loved having a physical object declaring him the best at something.

There’s another photo from that night, him and Meg holding up their matching awards because she won too. Cas keeps that photo on top of his dresser, even if he can’t look at it for too long without the memory starting to sour.

Cas didn’t expect to spend his Sunday evening on a mini golf course an hour before the place closes, but it seems like Marv directs pretty much all aspects of his life, on and off screen. A couple of the studio’s security linger a hole behind them, which makes Cas feel slightly more at ease. There aren’t a ton of people on the course, but Cas definitely saw a hint of recognition in the cashier’s eye when they paid for their round. It’s not like he insists on security tagging along every time he shows his face in public, but it always puts him at ease to have backup.

“You’re really bad at this,” Dean remarks after Cas takes six attempts to hit the ball in the hole.

“I’m not great at regular golf either,” Cas admits.

“That’s embarrassing. How do you even show your face in this town?”

Cas glares at him, refusing to return Dean’s smile. “My parents signed me up for golf lessons when I was younger. Lots of agents like to golf. It’s kind of a thing. They thought it could be helpful in the future if I knew how to golf.”

“Was it helpful?”

“Not really. I had a handful of lessons before my mom declared it a waste of time,” Cas says. She said that about a lot of things when Cas was a kid, so he quickly learned to stop asking for things. Or he would just sneak around, or frame the things he wanted in a way that made it seem like it would be beneficial for his career. Maybe he never got to go mini golfing, but he did get to have horseback riding lessons.

“Mini golf was one of the only things to do in Kansas,” Dean says. “The local course was my first date spot when I was in high school.”

“This is my first time mini golfing,” Cas tells him.

“You’re joking.”

“I don’t tend to do that.”

“Dude, how have you never mini golfed before?”

“I’ve never been bowling either.”

“What?”

“I had a very busy schedule when I was younger,” Cas says. “If I wasn’t working then I was doing schoolwork. If I wasn’t doing schoolwork then I was prepping for next week’s episode. If I wasn’t prepping then I was going to or coming from an audition. Or I was in a meeting or doing some kind of press event in my downtime.”

He doesn’t think of his childhood as a sad one until he sees the pity that’s written all over Dean’s face. “Well,” Dean says, quickly shaking off the emotion. “Guess I gotta introduce you to the world of fun.”

“You’ve appointed yourself that responsibility?”

“Someone oughta.”

“Gabe’s got that handled,” Cas says. “He likes to pull pranks on set. Sometimes he likes to involve me if I’m not the target. He says he wants to get me loosened up.”

“I can’t imagine Marv being cool with pranks.”

“He doesn’t really care as long as he’s not the target, we don’t cause any permanent damage, and we don’t delay things. I think he likes that it builds comradery between us.”

“He’s kind of a weird guy,” Dean admits. “I mean, I know people in showbusiness are weird, but…”

“He is one of the weirder ones I’ve met,” Cas says. “But at least he’s not a bad person.”

“Good,” Dean laughs. “I was worried he was on the normal end of the spectrum.”

“Definitely not.”

They laugh again and Cas wonders if Marv would be okay with them bonding at his expense.

“Do you ever go back and watch your old projects?” Dean asks.

“Rarely,” Cas says. “Sometimes my mom will have me rewatch scenes from current projects to go over areas of improvement, but I don’t watch the old stuff.”

“Even Chicagoland? That show was hilarious. I think you’d get a kick out of it.”

“People tell me it’s funny,” Cas says. “Strangers will quote lines to me that I have no memory of delivering. A lot of the jokes flew over my head as a kid. I don’t think I could ever go back and watch it though.”

“Hate watching yourself?”

“Yes, but there are other reasons.”

He decides not to mention Meg, and how seeing the two of them on screen as happy kids does nothing but make him want to cry. There was one time when Cas drunkenly clicked on a YouTube video of his and Meg’s best sibling moments from the show and he couldn’t get through a full minute of it without throwing up.

“Well,” Dean says. “I love On the Road. And I don’t intend to stop watching even though I’m on it now.”

“Did you watch yourself on your soap?”

“Nah,” Dean says. “But I also think soaps are mostly crap. Except there was one summer I broke my leg and spent the whole time on the couch watching telenovelas.”

“I find that incredibly surprising.”

“You think you know what I like?”

“Star Wars. Westerns. Action and superheroes.”

“I don’t care about superheroes,” Dean says. “You pretty much nailed it otherwise. I’ll watch anything with Clint Eastwood.”

“I had a cameo in one of his movies.”

“Shut up. Which one?”

“No idea. I was an infant.” Cas smiles at him. “My grandfather was starring in it with him. My mom brought me to set one day when she was visiting him. She talked someone into letting me be in the background of some scene.”

“No fucking way,” Dean chuckles as they walk to the next hole. “It was kinda inevitable you’d end up in this then.”

“Not necessarily.”

“Your grandfather was James freaking Novak, man. Your parents are Hollywood agents. You’d have to work hard not to end up in the business.”

“I worked hard for what I have,” Cas defends. “I know I was born into it, but I could have been talentless.”

“Or ugly.”

Cas’s face burns as he shifts all his attention to lining up the perfect hit. Suddenly he can’t take his eyes off the ground.

“I come from a line of mechanics. On my dad’s side at least,” Dean says. “On my mom’s side, detectives. I was more interested in the mechanic route.”

“So why aren’t you a mechanic?”

“I can be a mechanic later. Thought I’d try acting first.”

“Well, you’re not terrible.”

Dean whistles, leaning all his weight on his golf club. “Man, too bad there aren’t any cameras on us right now. How else will I prove to people that Castiel Novak thinks I have talent?”

“I didn’t say that exactly.”

“You better watch yourself, Novak. I could be top of the call sheet a year from now.”

“Try to settle for at least not getting written off.”

“Gotta start somewhere.”

It doesn’t take long to finish the game, especially with how quickly Dean manages to complete each hole. Cas doesn’t have to look at the score sheet to know Dean won. Dean offers to buy them ice cream as Cas’s consolation prize.

“I can pay for myself,” Cas says.

“Shut up, I got it.”

Cas is grateful the sun has mostly set, feeling more relaxed now that people will have a hard time seeing him. It’s the only reason he doesn’t insist that he and Dean eat in the car.

“Do you have any siblings?” Dean asks.

“Are you just trying to make conversation or do you genuinely not know?”

“Humor me.”

“I’m an only child,” Cas says. It’s probably a good thing his parents never had more than one kid. They barely pay any attention to the one they’ve got. “What about yourself?”

“One younger brother. Sam,” Dean says. He smiles slightly, almost like he can’t help it. “Kid’s a genius. Gonna go to Stanford next year. Wants to go to law school.”

“Wow,” Cas says. “I played a law student once.”

“Yeah, and now you play a dropout. Any truth to that?”

“Technically no. I never went to college.”

“Did you want to?”

“It would have conflicted with filming schedules,” Cas says, repeating exactly what his mom had said during the one time they discussed college.

“I guess,” Dean says. “I got into the University of Kansas, but I moved to LA instead.”

“Do you regret it?”

“No, dude, I have my dream job. No one wants to go to school. I don’t even know what I would have studied.”

“Me neither.”

“Did you go to high school?”

“Homeschooled,” Cas says. “Set teachers.”

“So you didn’t get a prom? Or graduation?”

“I did on this other show I was on for a few years called Madness,” Cas says. “There was a whole prom episode.”

“I remember that show,” Dean nods. “But you didn’t get that stuff in real life?”

“I guess not.”

“Damn, that’s actually kinda sad,” Dean says. “I lost my virginity on prom night. It was a formative experience.”

“Can’t really do that on a TV show.”

“Not on network TV. Maybe we should switch to porn.”

Cas actually laughs at that. “I think my mother would kill me and then herself.”

Dean chuckles with him. Cas looks off to the side, pretending as though he doesn’t see Dean still looking at him.

“So do you still hate me? Or can we tell Marv we’re actually friends now?”

“I don’t hate you,” Cas frowns. There’s a difference between hating someone and finding them irritating. He definitely doesn’t hate Dean. “I’ve just never worked with someone like you before.”

“I hope that’s a good thing.”

“It is,” Cas says even though he’s not quite sure. “You’re different from a lot of actors I know. You’re more honest.”

Dean looks down, bashful. “I thought I was keeping my cards close to my chest.”

“It’s refreshing,” Cas says. “Everyone I know is so guarded. Myself included. I just fear your spirit may get knocked down a few pegs.”

“Don’t worry about me, man,” Dean flashes him a smile. “I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”

Cas really looks at him then, wondering if it’d be worth it to warn Dean of what he’s really in for. He wonders if Dean would even listen.

“If it gets to be too much, do you promise me you’ll pack it up and go home?”

Dean’s eyebrows furrow as he scrapes his cup. “You’re talking like you’ve seen some shit.”

“I don’t mean to sound like a cliché, but showbusiness will chew you up and spit you out without a care. I don’t want to see it ruin you.”

“Gabe, Rowena, and Charlie seem pretty okay,” Dean says. “So do you.”

“Some people break,” Cas says. “I really don’t want you to be one of them.”

“Are you referring to Meg Masters?”

Cas bristles, tearing his eyes away. The only thing he hates in this world more than Meg’s death is how publicized it was. Cas stands up from their table, busying himself with picking up their trash. Before he steps away, he keeps his eyes locked on Dean’s as he says, “I’m just telling you to look out for yourself because no one else will.”

Cas throws out their trash and then bypasses their table, going straight for the car and sitting in the backseat. He watches Dean stay at their table a few minutes longer before eventually coming over to the car and getting in.

They don’t look at each other the whole drive home.

Chapter Text

People, May 17, 2003

Actress Meg Masters Found Dead at Sixteen 

Former child star Meg Masters was found dead at her home in Los Angeles on Sunday. She was pronounced on scene by paramedics. She was sixteen.

Her cause of death has not yet been released. Masters had a known drug problem and was just a month out from her latest rehabilitation program. Los Angeles police report cocaine and other narcotics were found on the scene. A representative for Masters declined to comment other than to request privacy for the family at this time.

A successful actress, Masters was best known for her role as Jane in the Emmy award-winning show ‘Chicagoland.’ She held the role from the time she was five until the show ended when she was thirteen. She had little success after the end of the show. A source close to Masters reports the actress wanted to quit acting and “turned to drugs and alcohol as an escape.”

American Broadcasting Network, the network that was home to ‘Chicagoland,’ issued a statement saying, “We are devastated to learn the news about Meg Masters and we are thinking of her family and friends during this time.”

When asked about his favorite actor he’s ever worked with in a recent interview, Castiel Novak, who played Masters’s twin brother on ‘Chicagoland,’ said, “Meg Masters. No question. We grew up together so acting with her became second nature. We don’t play siblings anymore, but we still see each other as family. She’s the person I go to about everything.” Novak’s representation did not respond to our request for comment.

Masters was outspoken about addiction, only just last year publishing an essay on her experience with alcoholism running in her family. 

“I saw how addiction destroyed my grandfather and my uncle. My grandfather died and it sent my uncle down a dark path. As my family tumbled toward rock bottom, I had to watch my dad slowly lose his brother. I promised myself that would never be me.” 

Only three weeks after her essay was published, paparazzi captured Masters on a stroll in her neighborhood with a can of Budweiser. 

If you or a loved one are struggling with addiction, please call one of the helplines listed below.

Even though Gabe only includes him in about fifty percent of his pranks, Cas always knows when one is coming. But even when Cas is internally prepared, he pretends to be none the wiser. He learned quickly that Gabe doesn’t appreciate Cas predicting his pranks. He does this for an audience and who is Cas to ruin that for him?

Gabe sits in the backseat of the Impala, ignoring the script open on his lap. He nods as Cas comes onto set.

“How was your weekend?” Charlie asks as Cas gets into the car. She’s squished in between Gabe and Rowena.

“Dean and I went mini golfing.”

“First date?” Gabe quips.

Charlie pinches his arm. “Don’t be mean. I’m glad you guys are getting along.”

“Maybe now we won’t have any more sixteen-hour days,” Rowena eyes him.

Cas glares. “That wasn’t my fault.”

“I’m sure,” Rowena says.

“I’m a professional actor,” Cas says.

“And yet, I’m the only one of us who studied acting,” Rowena says.

“She’s got a point,” Charlie says.

“Not fair. I went to a performing arts high school,” Gabe says.

Cas huffs, turning back in his seat. He doesn’t acknowledge Dean when he comes onto set and slides into the car, instead focusing on fiddling with the car’s buttons. Most of them don’t work thanks to Gabe messing with them, and Cas hasn’t quite been able to talk production into spending the money to fix the car.

“License and registration.”

As scripted, Cas asks Dean to grab both from the glove compartment. After a few moments of Dean rifling through there, he stops and looks back at Cas.

“Are you fucking with me?” Dean asks, which Cas knows for a fact is not the next line in the script.

“Cut!” Marv calls. “Dean!”

Dean pulls a wad of papers out of the glove compartment and drops them on Cas’s lap. “You think you’re a comedian?” He doesn’t sound quite pissed, but there’s definitely an edge to his voice.

Cas looks down at the papers, confused when he’s met with a series of random photoshoots. He glances over his shoulder to find Gabe laughing, and Charlie and Rowena looking confused.

“Winchester thinks he can be a child model and not tell any of us,” Gabe spits out between fits of laughter. He leans forward to grab a piece of paper that features a child wearing Star Wars pajamas. When Cas looks closer, he can clearly see a younger version of Dean.

“Oh my god,” Cas says.

“This is the best day ever,” Charlie laughs, grabbing one of the papers, this one featuring a teenage Dean in a crop top. “Rowena, look.”

“Adorable,” Rowena says.

“You had pretty boy hair,” Charlie says.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Dean says. He looks at Gabe. “Where the hell did you even find these?”

“The internet has more uses than just games and porn.”

“Guys, can we concentrate?” Marv yells.

“Sorry, boss,” Gabe calls back. “We’re gonna need ten.”

“Fine! Be ready in ten minutes.”

Cas can’t stop flicking through the papers, eyes dancing from a JCPenney catalogue to a Gap Kids photoshoot to a Calvin Klein spread. He finds it hilarious, but another part of him is stuck on how handsome Dean looks. It seems as though he was born with movie star good looks. It’s almost infuriating to know Dean was always naturally this beautiful.

“I thought your parents refused to put you in showbusiness,” Cas says.

“And I thought regional modeling meant that no one outside of East-Central Kansas would ever see these,” Dean says.

“Like I said, the internet is a magical place,” Gabe says.

“You should have kept the hair,” Rowena says.

“Dean, will you sign this for me?” Charlie asks, handing him one picture where a teenage Dean is wearing a cowboy hat and doing his best blue steel. Cas immediately snatches it from her.

“Hey!”

“I need to keep this one,” Cas says, not taking his eyes off the photo in his lap.

“Calm down, kids, I printed multiple copies,” Gabe says. “We have more than enough blackmail material for years to come.”

“I hate you all,” Dean groans.

One of the producers has to confiscate every single photo in order for them to concentrate on the scene. Even so, Cas finds it difficult to keep the joy out of his acting. He can’t help but smile when Dean does, matching his body language, unable to tear his eyes away from him. Cas is usually good about letting his character fully take over when he’s acting and suppressing his real life emotions, but it’s hard for him today to find Scout’s mindset. He can’t stop staring at Dean and wondering if that kid from Kansas who modeled his little heart out ever knew he'd make it one day. For the first time all season, Cas doesn’t mind having Dean on set.

Cas is in Gabe’s trailer as soon as they get a break, barely stopping to knock before bursting in.

“Do you have more copies of those pictures?”

Gabe smirks, opening his laptop. “Call it an endless supply.”

“I need you to print out several more of each picture. Especially the one of him in the cowboy hat.”

“Guess we found your kink.”

“I want to hang them up everywhere. To prank him.”

“I fear I’ve created a monster.”

“This is your best prank yet,” Cas says as he watches the pictures fly out of Gabe’s printer.

Gabe talks him into hiding the pictures rather than hanging them up in obvious places. Some get folded up in prop books, a handful are taped to the bottom of everyone’s director’s chairs, Gabe even shoves one in the very back of the snack cupboard in an old box of granola bars.

A bunch are slid under Dean’s trailer door. Cas includes a note on top of the pile.

Please sign the one of you in a cowboy hat and return immediately to Castiel Novak’s trailer.

Just before the end of lunch, the picture is slid under Cas’s trailer door, fully signed with a personalized note.

To my biggest fan. Cas, go eat a big bag of dicks. Cowboy hats will never go out of style. Dean

If Cas is late getting back to set because he spends an extended period of time looking at the signed headshot, then that’s just another secret he’ll be taking to the grave.

Cas doesn’t mind having guest stars on set, especially those who are returning. Working with the same actors each day means it’s exciting for fresh blood to be thrown in the mix.

Cas was pleased to see Inias’s character pop up in the latest script. He got along well with Inias when he guest starred in a few episodes last season. It didn’t hurt that their characters got along too, and that he received rave reviews from both fans and critics alike.

A part of him wonders why they didn’t just bump up Inias to main cast if they were looking to bring in another regular. Then again, if they did that then Dean wouldn’t be here, so maybe it’s a good thing Inias is still just a guest star.

“It’s weird to be back here,” Inias says, circling the car.

“Good weird?” Charlie asks, perched against the hood.

“Of course,” Inias says. “This might be my favorite guest spot I’ve ever done.”

“We hear that a lot,” Cas says. He’s sitting sideways out of the driver’s seat, craning his neck to meet Inias’s eyes. “I know Marv wanted to focus more on the core friendships between the cast this season, so it’s lucky you’re back.”

“Three episode arc,” Inias says. “Have you read the scripts?”

“I don’t have anything beyond the next episode.”

“I probably shouldn’t spoil it then.”

“Tell us,” Charlie says. “We can keep a secret.”

“Okay,” Inias says. “They’re making Eli gay.”

“Woah,” Charlie says. “Wasn’t expecting the show to go there. Appreciate the representation.”

Cas flicks his eyes away to the steering wheel, focusing on playing with some of the car’s buttons. He knows he needs to say something, but he has no idea how to find the right words without having his true emotions painted across his face. He does what he always does when something related to being gay gets brought up. He tries to act like it has no effect on him whatsoever, which usually results in him shutting down.

“Yeah, I mean, I’m not gay, but I don’t mind playing a gay character. Plus, if it can help people then that’s great,” Inias says.

“Yeah, it’s great,” Cas adds vaguely, stuck on Inias’s insistence that he’s not gay. He knows Charlie is open about her sexuality, and maybe there’s the rare occasion Cas considers asking her about it, but then he’s reminded of how a majority of people around him are straight and that shuts down any possibility of him straying out of line.

“It’s fine if you are, Inias,” Charlie says.

“I know,” he says. “I’m just not. I had a conversation with my agent and with Marv about this direction for Eli. Marv promised he wouldn’t make me kiss another guy, but I told him I wouldn’t mind. I don’t think that’ll actually happen though.”

“Why not?” Charlie asks.

“That might be a bit too much for the network. Apparently, Marv was really pushing for this storyline and had to go toe-to-toe with the network for it.”

“Didn’t peg Marv for an ally,” Charlie says.

“I don’t think most people did,” Inias chuckles. “They told me the plan is for Eli to get flirty with Finn. Scout’s going to get jealous, Eli is going to confront him, and Scout is going to reject him.”

“Why would Scout be jealous?” Cas asks, suddenly defensive over his character. No one knows Scout like he does, not even Marv. “Scout’s not gay.”

“He’s jealous of Eli and Finn’s friendship.”

“It seems like it could be interpreted differently.”

“Take it up with Marv,” Inias shrugs, turning back to Charlie.

Cas is no stranger to downtime on a set, usually smart enough to use that time to recharge, but today he finds himself in a familiar spiral of overthinking.

At this stage in his career, especially given that he’s the lead, he’s used to being at least somewhat involved in conversations about storylines. Sure, he has no real pull and the writers usually don’t want to hear his suggestions, but at least he can occasionally get his foot in the door. His parents tell him that’s the first step to negotiating a producer credit. He might be young, but his parents think they can work that into his contract during the next round of negotiations in a couple years.

Over the summer, after he finished his movie and before he flew back out to Vancouver, Marv invited him and his parents to lunch to talk season four. He went through the storylines he mapped out, the guest stars he planned to bring back, and the cliffhanger that’ll bring the show directly into season five. Cas and his parents gave their approval for everything Marv talked about, even the minor storylines that had nothing to do with Cas’s character. Not that Marv was ever actually looking for their approval, but it’s still nice to feel like he’s contributing more to the show than just reading a script.

Never at any point did Marv mention bringing Inias’s character back just to make him gay. Cas wonders if this was a spur of the moment idea or if he kept it under wraps deliberately. He wonders if he has any pull to even ask.

When actors have downtime on set, the crew doesn’t. They’re usually busy fixing something or setting up for the next scene or preparing for the next episode. No one, especially the showrunner, is exactly jumping at the chance to soothe the fears of a worried actor, so Cas has learned to keep his thoughts to himself.

“What are we doing?” Dean asks, sliding over to where Cas is sitting on the edge of his seat, eyes stuck on Marv.

“Relaxing.”

“No offense, dude, but I don’t think you’ve ever been relaxed a day in your life.”

“That’s not true. I went to a spa once.”

“And how was it?”

“I kind of hated it,” Cas admits. “But the sauna was nice.”

“Just put a sauna in your house. Then you don’t have to put yourself in a stressful spa situation again.”

“I did that,” Cas mumbles, finally tearing his eyes away from Marv to look at Dean. “I don’t use it as much as I should.”

Dean laughs, settling back in his seat. “Fucking actors.”

“To be fair, I spend nine months of the year here.”

“You don’t visit home that much?”

“I’d rather stay put than do all that traveling just for a weekend visit.”

“Don’t you miss your family?”

Cas’s hesitates despite his instinct to say yes. “Of course. They’re my parents.”

“I miss my family a lot too,” Dean admits. “I try calling home every day.”

“I call my parents every Sunday,” Cas says. “They’re also my managers, so it doubles as a business call.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Dean drums his fingers against the edge of his seat. “I met Inias today. He seems nice.”

“He is.”

“I wonder if they’ll bring him back after this after the gay storyline.”

“Who told you about that?”

“Inias did.”

Cas hums. For someone claiming for it to be a secret, Inias sure seems happy enough to go spreading it around. “I don’t think he’ll be back.”

“Really?”

“Marv likes to try experimental things every now and again. Most of the stuff he throws at the wall doesn’t tend to stick.”

Dean doesn’t speak for a moment, but when he does his voice is sharp. “Are you not okay with a gay character in the show?”

Cas can’t address the truth in that statement. “It’s Marv’s decision, not mine. I just hope it doesn’t hurt the show.”

“Well, I’m glad the show is going there,” Dean declares. “With the kind of reach this show has, I think it’s gonna make a big difference. Especially for the people who rarely see themselves represented on screen like that.”

Cas doesn’t say anything and doesn’t try to stop Dean from walking away either. He just continues to sit, watching Marv and drowning in his thoughts about how on earth his parents are going to react when they watch the episode.

Most guest stars tend to keep to themselves, spending lunch in their trailer or eating alone. Inias has been around enough times at this point that he slips in seamlessly with the rest of the cast. Cas is happy to have him here, even if he can’t quite shake the quiet mood he’s stuck in.

It also doesn’t help that the rest of them just won’t stop talking about the fact that Inias’s character is getting a gay storyline. Surely there are a million other conversation topics rather than beating the dead horse of a guest star’s upcoming storyline. They almost never talk about the show this much when they have downtime. What do they normally talk about at lunch?

“It’ll be great representation,” Inias says when Cas comes back to the table with his water.

“If I had something like that growing up, it would have helped a lot,” Dean says.

Cas digs his nails into his palm for a distraction so that he doesn’t whip his head over to Dean.

“Are you…” Rowena trails off.

“Bisexual,” Dean says. “I like girls and guys.”

“Right on,” Charlie smiles, holding her hand up for a high five. “I’m the resident lesbian around here.”

“Really?” Dean asks, surprised written on his face. “And everyone’s cool with it?”

“Oh, yeah,” Charlie says. “DeGeneres really paved the way for us.”

“I mean, are people on this set cool with it?”

“Haven’t had any problems so far,” Charlie shrugs. “I don’t go around flaunting it, but I don’t hide it either. Everyone knows. No one treats me any differently.”

“Huh,” Dean nods. “I’m out to family and friends back home. Not totally by choice, my dad caught me making out with a guy once. It took my parents a little bit to come around, but they’re cool with it now.”

“Fully cool with it?” Charlie asks.

“I mean, I haven’t brought home any boys yet, so they haven’t had to confront it head on. But who knows? They say they’re cool with it so I’m inclined to believe them.”

Cas has never, so badly, in all of his life, wanted to eject himself from a conversation.

“My parents walked in on me and a guy once,” Gabe says. “I’m straight, but sometimes you gotta test the waters just to make sure, right? Anyway, I think they’re still waiting for me to come out.”

“They’ll be waiting a long time,” Rowena winks at him.

Gabe smirks at her and Cas doesn’t want to touch that with a hundred-foot pole.

“Did coming out affect your career?” Dean asks Charlie.

“I’ve been out since before I was in the business,” Charlie says. “Who’s to say if I would have gotten more auditions and roles if I was straight? Someone on my team once said that it’s a good thing I don’t look like a lesbian. Whatever that means.”

“You definitely looked like a lesbian the time you made out with a random girl at a bar,” Gabe snickers.

“Made the front page of TMZ,” Charlie salutes. “Dean, if you wanna be out, be out.”

“I don’t know,” Dean says. “No one knows what I am. I don’t wanna give anything the chance to hurt my career this early on. Maybe if I ever actually date a guy then I’ll consider coming out.”

Charlie looks over at Cas. “What do you think?”

Cas pretends like this conversation has no effect on him, almost as if he’s bored. “About what?”

“You’ve been in the business forever. Do you think it’s a bad idea for Dean to come out?”

“I think there are a lot of opportunities Dean could miss out on if he were honest about that part of himself,” Cas says bluntly. “They say Hollywood’s changed, but it really hasn’t. Producers are picky and extremely prejudiced. If people already have a preconceived notion of who you are, that’s all they’ll see.”

The conversation ceases then, only picking up again when Inias laughs and makes a joke about hoping he doesn’t get typecast as gay after this. Which launches Gabe into the story of how he became typecast as the comic relief.

Cas is quiet for the rest of lunch, refusing to look up even though he can feel Dean’s eyes boring into him.

Chapter Text

When Cas was younger, he dreaded the press circuit. Back in the days when he didn’t how to be in front of a camera if he wasn’t playing a character.

These days, thanks to years of experience and countless hours of media training, Cas can handle any kind of press event. Even though he would still rather be doing absolutely anything else with his limited time away from set, it’s not the drag it once was. It’s just another day at the office. Sometimes Cas wonders what the point of being a successful actor is when half of his time working isn’t spent acting.

They’ve moved into September now and the first episode of season four is premiering in exactly one week on Cas’s twenty-second birthday. Kismet, as his father said. Coincidence, as his mother said. It’s not the first time the first episode of a season has fallen on his birthday.

The kickoff event of the On the Road season four press circuit starts with a media consultant from the network visiting the studio to interview the cast and conduct a photoshoot around set. Despite the fact that being on camera is second nature for him at this point, Cas has never quite mastered the art of still photography. At best, he’s seen as awkward, especially during his teen years. His mom had signed him up for dance classes in hopes he would learn to be more comfortable with himself. All that ever got him was an audition for a film about a group of middle school boys who take part in a dance competition to impress girls.

Cas wasn’t too broken up when he didn’t get the part.

A long time ago, Cas learned to treat press events like another acting gig. He dons a character (Castiel Novak, actor), reads a script (his talking points), and wins the Oscar (convinces people to watch whatever project he’s involved in).

The network’s media consultant is someone Cas has never met before, but he knows the type. Young journalist angling for any opportunity to break a story. Her name is Bela Talbot and she sits in her own director’s chair across from the cast, just off to the side of the main set.

“So guys,” Bela starts, “can you tell us what’s in store for season four?”

All eyes turn to Cas. “We’re back on the road,” he says. “In season four, the gang picks up a hitchhiker in the first episode and he becomes integrated into the group pretty quick. Like the last three seasons, it’s all about the relationships. Friends, family. The road tripping is just the backdrop.”

“What about specifics?” Bela asks. “Like you said, a new character is getting introduced in the first episode. What can you tell us about him?”

“I’m probably the guy to answer this one,” Dean chuckles, sitting up a little straighter in his seat. He throws Bela a smile that she returns, and Cas kinda hates watching the interaction. “Picture a Han Solo type. You know, a guy kinda like-”

“Hold on, Dean,” Bela interrupts. “Do you mind rephrasing your answer to include the question? And try to avoid references to other media if possible.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Dean stammers. He hesitates. “Am I good to go?”

“Yeah, we’re rolling.” She gestures to the camera behind her. “Just keep going.”

“I play the newest addition to the group. My character, Finn Norwalk, is carefree. He thinks he’s invincible, like nothing can touch him. He met the gang while hitchhiking and they kinda took him under their wing, especially Scout.”

“Finn is featured pretty heavily in the trailer that just dropped. It’s clear that he and Scout become fast friends,” Bela says.

“Scout and Finn definitely develop a close relationship,” Dean says. “They bond quickly right off the bat.”

“In the third episode, Scout and Finn go off on a solo adventure,” Cas says. “That’s when you really get to see their friendship develop as they become best friends.”

“That’ll be exciting to have a new dynamic,” Bela says. “Gabriel, can you tell us what’s in store for your character this season? We left off on a pretty intense cliffhanger with Peter in the season three finale.”

Cas relaxes slightly once the attention is off him, but is careful to not let his guard down entirely. He is still on camera after all. He spares a glance to Dean, who’s sitting next to him and already looking his way. He’s drumming his fingers against his thigh and Cas kinda regrets not giving Dean any sort of warning before this. Dean was in the room when they received their media training for this season, but Cas still could have given him a heads up at the very least. Or told him to not worry about it too much.

Cas worries about a thousand things on any given day, but forces himself to not worry about press days. He’s an actor, he’s trained, he’s a professional. The most he ever gets tripped up is when a journalist tries bringing up something from his blacklist. Even then, he’s a master at changing the subject. He’s perfected the art of dodging invasive questions, answering without actually giving an answer.

Dean has a long way to go before he can reach that level of zen in the face of discomfort. Cas knocks his foot against Dean’s, hoping that can bring him some kind of reassurance. Dean’s fingers still and he doesn’t look back at Cas, but after a moment he bumps their feet together again.

It reminds Cas of getting through long press days with Meg as a kid, the two of them getting caught in their own little world. Even with cameras around, they acted however they liked, joking around during interviews and treating the whole thing like a game, calling it a press circus.

“Castiel,” Bela says. “In one word, describe the journey your character goes on this season.”

“Enlightening,” Cas says. He doesn’t really know where it comes from, but it’s the first thing that pops in his head.

He doesn’t let himself look at Dean for the rest of the interview.

During the photoshoot, Cas turns his brain off, letting the people around him decide how he’ll pose, what he’ll wear, what his best angle is.

“I feel like a show dog,” Dean mumbles as he walks back onto set in a new outfit.

“You get used to it,” Charlie says. She’s sat cross-legged on the hood of the Impala, map in lap despite the fact that they never use maps on the show.

“You might even enjoy it one day,” Rowena tells him.

“Doubt it,” Dean says.

“Weren’t you a child model?” Gabe asks. “How is this any different?”

“The product was the star of the advertisement,” Dean says. “It wasn’t really about me back then.”

“You’re saying you’re the product now?” Gabe asks.

“Well, when you put it like that.”

“The show is the product,” Cas cuts in. “It’s still not really about us. It’s about the show.”

“Trust me, dear,” Rowena says. “It’s about us.”

“We’ve sent an email to each of you and your management teams with the account’s credentials,” Donna, the network’s publicist, tells them.

She stands at the head of a conference table, slideshow clicker in hand as she tells Cas and the rest of the cast all about how the hot new trend this season is social media. The network is convinced social media will be instrumental in their success, despite the show already being successful. Cas reads over the sheet in front of him for the hundredth time, which includes his new Twitter credentials, a brief explanation of what the site is, and a guideline on posting and interacting with fans.

Donna calls it a guideline. Cas knows that’s just a nicer term instead of calling them strict rules they are contractually obligated to follow.

Charlie raises her hand. “I already have a Twitter.”

“Well, now you have a new one,” Donna says. “Is your name anywhere on that other account?”

“No.”

“Then as long as there’s nothing tracing that account back to you, this conversation didn’t happen.”

“Why do we need this at all?” Cas finds himself asking. “The show is doing fine without a social media presence.”

“Exactly,” Donna says. “It’s doing fine. But live-tweeting the episodes as they air and answering fans’ questions directly makes them feel like you’re all more accessible, and could increase ratings exponentially.”

Cas keeps his face neutral, pretending he’s absolutely fine with the idea of being more accessible to the general public. Sometimes it feels like his entire life is up for grabs. And now his thoughts are on the table too?

“You won’t be the only one tweeting from your account,” Donna says. “I’ll be posting from there. Nothing personal, mostly just promoting new episodes. Maybe posting some behind the scenes photos. But I’ll leave the fan interaction to you guys. Which reminds me, please be sure to thoroughly read and understand the fan interaction guidelines as stated below.”

Cas glances over them, not thinking he’ll have any issue. The rules such as don’t private message fans and don’t get into any disagreements or fights and don’t talk about politics or religion are all things he wasn’t planning on doing in the first place.

“Hey, Donna,” Gabe pipes up. “What’s with the rule about not using Twitter for porn? There’s porn on Twitter?”

“Gabriel, I made it abundantly clear that Twitter accounts are fully public. Everything you post, everyone you follow, everything you favorite, it’s all public. So if you get caught liking Girls Gone Wild posts, that might make the front page.”

“Loud and clear, ma’am,” Gabe says, saluting her.

“Great,” Donna says. “I’ll show you all how to download and log into the app on your phones. My email is also listed if anyone has any questions. And remember,” she looks at each of them. “One wrong move and you will no longer have access to your account.”

Twitter, September 11, 2008

@CastielNovak: I don’t understand this website.

@DeanWinchester: @CastielNovak cmon buddy at least do some promoting. season four of on the road premieres in one week on nbn!

@CastielNovak: @DeanWinchester If anyone following me isn’t already aware of that, then I assume they must be lost.

Visiting any other city after spending an extended amount of time in Vancouver is always somewhat of a culture shock. At this point, going from LA to Vancouver is no biggie, but Cas will never shake the restlessness he feels every time he lands in New York City. Despite being physically smaller, New York always makes Cas feel like he’s drowning. Too big, too crowded, too loud, too dirty.

He doesn’t understand how people live here full time, or how actors seamlessly transfer to the stage. He knows Rowena got her start on the stage, and it makes way more sense to him that she’d move to on-screen work to get away from that.

Despite his not-so-positive feelings on New York, he still manages to find moments of enjoyment in between the work. Last time he was here was in May for the upfronts and he knows he’ll be back again next year. The press tour in New York was less expected, but maybe his parents just forgot to mention that part of the contract to him. Sometimes they omit certain details that they know he might object to.

He wonders how well Dean read over his contract, considering he seemed to suffer for half the plane ride before finally falling asleep. While Cas can’t even hazard a guess as to how many planes he’s been on, and spent the entire journey clearing out his email inbox, Dean was seated across the aisle next to Charlie who tried getting him to memorize the entirety of an upcoming script as a distraction technique.

Cas thought Dean’s nerves would even out once they touched ground, but after Dean barely said more than two words on Good Morning America, Cas corners him by the craft table.

“What is wrong with you?”

Dean looks up from where he’s idly picking at a plate of fruit. “You know, there’s about a dozen other ways you could’ve phrased that question.”

“You seem nervous.”

“I think I’m in way over my head.”

“You’re just now realizing that?”

“I’m on a freaking morning show, man. The same morning show my grandma used to watch every day. I’m gonna be broadcast in retirement homes all across the country.”

“You do realize you’re filming a network television show, right? You’re about to be on a lot of TV screens.”

“Fuck.”

“Did you freak out when you were on that soap?”

“No,” Dean says. “The stakes weren’t as high. People don’t really watch soaps anymore and I wasn’t all that psyched about being on a soap anyway.”

“Freak out all you want, but you can’t really back out now.”

“It’s a good thing you became an actor and not a motivational speaker.”

“Here,” Cas says, pulling out his phone and opening up his email. “Look over our talking points again. The rest of us are used to these interviews so we can take the lead. If you’re answering a question and feel yourself drowning, I can take over for you.”

“Won’t it look bad?”

“No,” Cas says. “Unless you curse out the interviewer or say something highly offensive, you’re safe.”

“How are you so cool about this, man? You’re way more neurotic than me.”

“After years of interviews and media training, you pick up a thing or two,” Cas says. “Plus, all interviews are more or less the same, especially on a press tour.”

“Now that you mention it, I do feel like I’ve been asked to describe my character about five separate times today. Why did the network decide the best form of promotion is morning shows that air at the ass crack of dawn?”

“Just be thankful you don’t have to do any of the late-night talk shows,” Cas says. “People expect you to be funny on those.”

“Good thing I am funny.”

“People only think I’m funny when I’m not trying to be.”

“Just thank your lucky stars that you’re not the lead of a show and people expect you to be fronting us.” Dean smirks. “Oh, wait.”

Cas rolls his eyes, sauntering back over to his seat. At least Dean seems more relaxed during their next interview, actually remembering to smile for the camera. Cas doesn’t even have to jump in and save him.

Cas’s parents don’t usually show up to the press tours anymore ever since they got used to managing him and his work from afar. His parents are busy people, taking meetings, always on a call, and managing a few other clients on the side. So it was definitely a surprise when Cas was going through his email on the plane and saw a message from his parents stating that they’ll be in New York while Cas is finishing up his press circuit. The least surprising part of the email was learning his parents made reservations at the same hotel the network put the cast up in.

Cas wishes it felt strange to be in the same city as his parents without seeing them, but it’s not the first time it’s happened and it probably won’t be the last. They’re busy with work and Cas is busy doing press. He did send them his updated schedule with the option of meeting up earlier, but his dad said their day was already booked solid.

Not that Cas has much free time either. He and the cast have been in back-to-back interviews and meetings since the moment they landed in New York earlier that morning. They were finally brought to the hotel in the afternoon where they were promised an hour of downtime before they were due to be picked up again for a photoshoot and more interviews.

Cas knows he should hate the unfamiliarity of a hotel bed, but he melts into it as soon as he gets to his room. After having a light shown in his face for a majority of the morning, he could’ve collapsed on an old futon and thought it was the comfiest thing in the world. Despite being put up in a deluxe suite, complete with complimentary snacks and drinks and gift baskets, he only has eyes for the king bed in the middle of the room.

A knock at his door. Cas drags himself out of bed and doesn’t check the peephole before opening it, assuming it’s his parents finally coming to say hi.

He hasn’t seen them in person since he flew out to Vancouver in August, and before that, he spent two months away from LA filming a movie. Before that, he was in Vancouver filming season three. In between all that, his parents are collecting frequent flier miles as Cas tries his best to keep up. Their weekly Skype calls are the most he ever sees his parents. If he didn’t keep a framed photo of them on his desk, he’d forget what they look like. He wonders if they ever have moments where they miss him as much as he misses them. Sometimes it’s a physical ache in Cas’s whole body that makes him feel like he’s four years old and lost in the grocery store.

When Cas opens the door, Dean and Gabe are standing there with matching oversized bags of popcorn.

“We’ve come to raid your snacks,” Gabe says, walking into the room.

Dean follows, looking around the suite as if he’s not in an identical one.

“Are they not the same?” Cas asks, heading back to bed. He crawls in, propped up against the headboard as he watches Gabe tear open the untouched gift basket.

“Gabe said the star of the show always gets better shit,” Dean says through a mouth full of popcorn.

“Ha!” Gabe yells, pulling mini bottles of tequila from the basket. “This wasn’t in mine.”

“Probably for good reason,” Cas says. “You’re welcome to take whatever you want. Except the alcohol.”

“Think we’re pretty much past asking for permission at this point,” Dean says.

“Score,” Gabe says, pulling out a few candy bars. “Imported directly from some fancy European country only to find its home in my stomach.”

“You could just buy expensive candy yourself,” Cas tells him.

“It tastes better when it’s free,” Gabe says.

“Do you guys live like this all the time?” Dean asks.

“The network likes to keep us happy,” Cas says. “They think this is the way to do it.”

“Sometimes companies will send us shit,” Gabe says. “That’s less frequent. But in season one, there’s a whole episode where my character refuses to eat anything but peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and after it aired, some company sent me, like, fifty jars of peanut butter.”

“Shit,” Dean laughs. “What’d you do with it all?”

“I gave it out to the crew and donated the rest to a food bank. What the hell am I gonna do with fifty jars of peanut butter?”

“Man, I didn’t realize how much free stuff celebrities get,” Dean chuckles. “It’s funny how famous people get stuff for free despite being the ones actually able to afford it. I got caught shoplifting bread and peanut butter once as a kid because money was tight. My family would have killed for fifty free jars of peanut butter.”

Cas frowns as he looks over at Dean, not sure what to make of that. Dean talks about his family often enough, more than Cas at least, but he’s never mentioned any kind of struggle like that. Cas wonders if he got into acting in hopes of financial stability. He wouldn’t be the first actor who uses their money to take care of their family back home.

Before anyone can say another word, there’s another knock at the door. Sharper now, as if just the act of knocking is a waste. This time, Cas knows for sure it’s his parents.

They look exactly the same as they do over Skype, he notes when he opens the door. There are maybe a few features that grainy webcams don’t capture. Bags under his father’s eyes, some small streaks of grey in his mother’s hair.

His dad doesn’t even hesitate, just immediately pulls him into an easy hug. “It’s good to see you, son.”

“You too,” Cas says, returning the embrace. It’s easy to melt into him like he’s coming home. “Did you have a good flight?”

“It was fine,” Dad says, pulling back. “No internet, unfortunately. Your mom had to be unplugged for six hours.”

“I read a book. It wasn’t great,” she says, pulling Cas into a quick hug. When she lets him go, she looks him up and down. “Are you eating?”

Cas’s face burns, knowing Dean and Gabe must be listening. “Yes.”

“You’re looking very thin.”

“Oh, he eats,” Gabe says, sauntering over to them. “Crafty named a sandwich after him.”

“Well, how about that,” Dad grins. “First a sandwich. Next a star on the Walk of Fame.”

“Mom, Dad, you remember Gabe,” Cas says.

“Of course,” Mom says. “It’s nice to see you again, Gabriel.”

“You too, Mrs. Novak.”

“And that’s Dean,” Cas says, gesturing to Dean who’s standing a few feet behind them.

“Ah, the newbie,” Dad says. “Nice to meet you.”

“Hi, yeah, you too,” Dean says, walking forward and joining the conversation. He sticks his hand out. “I’m excited to be here.”

“First press tour?” Dad shakes Dean’s hand. “Must be pretty new.”

“Yeah,” Dean laughs, running a hand through his hair. “I’m just some kid from Kansas and now I’m on my favorite show. That kind of thing doesn’t really happen.”

“It happens,” Mom says. She holds her hand out. “Naomi Novak.”

“Dean Winchester.” He shakes her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Both of you.”

“You too,” she says before looking back at Cas. “We have reservations for tonight at eight. It might be cutting it close to your last interview, but I’ll arrange for a car to bring you to the restaurant straight after.”

“Oh,” Cas says. “I think the cast and I were planning to grab dinner after. Rowena mentioned this great place near her old apartment.”

“It’s a business dinner, Castiel,” Mom says. “We’ve had a few meetings with a certain producer, but she’s dead set on meeting you before extending any kind of offer.”

“Got it,” Cas says. “Do I need to prepare at all?”

“No, it’s just a meeting,” she says. Her phone buzzes and her eyes leave him. “We have to run, but we’ll see you tonight around eight.”

“Bye, Cas,” Dad says, giving him one last quick hug.

“Bye,” Cas says, watching as they hurry out of the room. He shuts the door, giving himself a moment before turning around to face Dean and Gabe.

“Classic stage parents,” Gabe chuckles, dropping himself back onto the same lounge chair as before.

“Yup,” Cas says, crawling back into bed. He mindlessly rifles through the gift basket, not hungry enough to actually eat any of it. If he didn’t have work obligations later today, maybe he’d crack open the alcohol.

“So that’s what Hollywood parents are like?” Dean asks.

“My parents, at least,” Cas says.

“That sucks,” Dean says.

“It’s fine. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them.”

Dean doesn’t say anything, just goes back to his popcorn with a hard frown etched on his face.

After the photoshoot, and after another round of interviews, the cast sits on a panel put on by the network where a handful of journalists and lucky fans get to watch a screening of the season four premiere before asking questions.

Panels have never been on Cas’s thing. He’s been on many throughout his career, more so once he grew up. Fans ask more interesting questions than the average interviewer, they actually care about the show and the characters and the story, however they’re also more likely to go rogue and ask uncomfortable questions or ask about their personal lives.

On more than one occasion, Cas has had to listen while a fan looks him in the eye and tells him he’s saved their life. He never quite knows what to say to that, always disbelieving that his acting could have such an impact on another person’s life. He doesn’t actually do anything meaningful. Cas knows he’s leaving a mark on this world, that people will be watching him long after he’s gone, but sometimes he can’t help but wonder if he’s actually doing anything worthwhile. It's not like he’s boots on the ground building a hospital or finding a cure for cancer. No matter how many people tell him so, he’s not saving any lives. He’s playing make-believe in front of a camera. Even the words he delivers aren’t his own. There’s nothing lifechanging about that.

At least Cas knows he can count on the panel moderator to keep things in line. He spots Bela at the end of the stage as he steps forward. He doesn’t have much of an opinion of her based on the last time they met, but he thinks it’s a good sign the network sent their own media consultant to be the moderator.

“Thank you, everyone, for being here,” Bela says. “I think we can all agree that was a banger of an episode. I don’t know about you lot, but I’m ready for episode two.”

The crowd applauds. Cas glances across stage, gaze stuck on Dean. Cas has never seen him smile like this except on camera. He looks genuinely excited to be here, happy to soak up the spotlight. Cas wonders if there’s a honeymoon phase of being famous. He doesn’t think that’s something he ever experienced before. He can recall being young, not even double digits, and feeling like he was on top of the world. But those feelings were always fleeting. He wonders if things would have been different if he had memories of a life before fame.

There are a couple microphones in the audience with lines of people patiently waiting. When Bela finishes her introductions, the first person behind the mic speaks.

“My question is for Dean. How did you prepare for the role of Finn?”

“There wasn’t a lot of preparation to be honest,” Dean says. “I could relate to him as soon as I read the sides for that first audition. The summer after I graduated high school, I did a cross country road trip with my family. I kept thinking how cool it would be to just live life on the road. I try to channel that mindset now before every scene.”

“Next question?” Bela asks, nodding at the woman behind the second microphone.

“My question is for everyone. How did you adapt to having a new character join the show?”

“Dean fit right in from the jump,” Charlie says immediately. “He’s easy to get along with and it’s great to finally have someone willing to play video games in my trailer with me during lunch.”

“He’s a likable guy,” Gabe says. “I think the show will be better with him in it.”

“I agree,” Rowena says. “I think Finn was the missing piece of the puzzle.”

“They pay you to say all that?” Dean asks.

The audience laughs. “Castiel?” Bela asks.

“Like they all said,” Cas says. He keeps his eyes on the audience and off of Dean. “Dean’s a valuable member of the team and I can’t imagine the show without him.”

A man steps up to the microphone next. “What’s in store for the rest of the season? Scout and Finn didn’t seem to get along at first, but they warmed up to each other by the end of the episode. Is the show going to explore that friendship?”

“Yes,” Cas says. “Scout and Finn pair up quite a few times this season and go off on their own solo adventures away from everyone else. Spoiler alert for episode three, they find themselves stranded on the side of the road and that’s the moment that really cements them as close friends.”

“To quote our showrunner, they have a bit of a bromance,” Dean says.

“Do you two get along off screen?” the man asks.

Cas makes eye contact with Dean from across the stage, face heating up as Dean wiggles his eyebrows at him. “We’re friends,” Cas says. Considering they both still have their matching scars from that first week on set, he’d say they’re friends.

“Yeah,” Dean nods. “The people on set really feel like a family. I’ve only been there a couple months, but I can’t imagine being anywhere else. And that’s all thanks to these guys making it such a welcoming place.”

“Well, that was great,” Bela says the moment they all step foot in the greenroom behind the stage. “The fan response to the trailer has been phenomenal. It’s currently trending number six on Twitter.”

“What does that mean?” Cas asks.

“It means people are talking about it. Talking about you guys,” Bela says.

Cas thinks about the newly installed app on his phone, burning a hole in his pocket. When he was younger, he would occasionally read reviews and browse fan forums regarding his projects, but quickly learned that was a mistake. People are brutal, especially online. The general public are not shy when it comes to critiquing his performance, physical appearance, and his personal life. It doesn’t matter if he reads a hundred positive reviews, even just one negative one can send him into a spiral.

So he avoids all of it to the best of his ability, not a fan of how convenient it is to check what people are saying in real time. From Donna’s lesson, it seems as though the point of social media is to make him much more accessible to his fanbase. Cas doesn’t love feeling like his life is up for grabs, but Donna told him that’s part of the appeal.

“Okay, we’re officially celebrating,” Charlie says once the five of them are alone. “Rowena, are we still good to go with our reservation?”

“I can’t go,” Cas says, glancing down at his watch. It’s a quarter to eight. “I have to meet my parents for dinner.”

“Blow them off,” Charlie says.

“I can’t,” Cas sighs. “But you guys have fun.”

“At least meet us after,” Gabe says. “Dean, tell him he has to come out with us.”

“Well, we are celebrating, aren’t we?” Dean says. “We’re in New York. You have to come out.”

“I promise we’ll show you a good time,” Rowena says.

Cas drops his eyes to the ground. “What if someone sees?”

“Everyone will see,” Rowena says. “It’s New York. But I know some more discreet bars. I’ll text you the address once we’re on our way.”

“Okay,” Cas says. “My car will be here shortly, but I’ll meet you guys later.”

He hugs both Charlie and Rowena, and nods at Gabe’s salute. He hesitates before he leaves, eyes caught on Dean, and the world halts so they can stare each other down. After a few moments, Dean just smiles at him, which Cas returns before he finally leaves.

“So, Castiel,” his mother says, leaning back in her seat as she idly sips a glass of wine. “How has the press tour been going?”

“It’s been great,” Cas says. He sips his own wine, keeping a straight face. He’s always hated the taste of wine, but his dad ordered the bottle so he pretends to love it. At least it gives him a nice buzz. “It’s great seeing fans’ reactions and knowing people are so excited for the show.”

“What’s your experience with film press tours?” Hester asks.

Hester is a big-time movie producer Cas has never heard of until this afternoon, but she’s apparently been a part of four different Oscar winners in the past several years. In the email his mom sent over, she said she had to pull a bunch of strings to get this dinner. Cas wonders how mad his parents would be if he spilled that he and the rest of the cast ate a bunch of hot dogs and pretzels less than an hour ago and he’s not even remotely hungry.

“They’re certainly different,” Cas answers. “I like that you get to spend longer promoting the film.”

“Castiel has always loved doing the morning shows,” his mom says. “When he was a kid, he once performed his juggling routine on the spot at the host’s request. We hadn’t even prepped him for it. We wanted the authenticity of the moment.”

“Impressive,” Hester says. “It always helps to have a party trick up your sleeve.”

“He also hosted SNL when he was only nine,” Dad says. “Second youngest host in the show’s history.”

“That’s quite the resume,” Hester says.

“Co-host,” Cas says. Meg had been right by his side, also only nine years old, but stealing the whole show.

“Do you have any experience with theater?” Hester asks.

“Not particularly,” Cas tells her. “I was in a couple of plays when I was younger, but my schedule was usually full.”

“He was very busy with his TV show when he was younger,” Mom says. “We did our best to broaden his horizons.”

“Theater isn’t for everyone. Acting on stage is a completely different art form from acting on screen,” Hester says. “Let me use this topic to segue into the project. It’s a feature about a young man who is trying to make it big on Broadway. He was the star of a TV show when he was younger, but couldn’t find success after that. The film follows his journey as he tries to find fame again.”

Cas nods along to the film’s pitch, already relating to the idea of being a famous kid, but a little lost on the idea of intentionally seeking out fame after having it as a child. He’s not the writer though. He’s the actor. He’ll say whatever words he’s given.

“That sounds great,” Cas says.

“I can have the sides sent over to you Monday and you can put yourself on tape,” Hester says. “Don’t think of it as a formal audition. The studio just wants to see you in the role before an official offer can be made.”

“Of course,” Cas says, knowing full well it’s still an audition. Nothing’s set in stone until contracts are signed. Even then, there’s no guarantee.

As the night continues, his parents do most of the talking, which Cas doesn’t mind. He’ll happily sit back and sip his disgusting wine as long as no one tries bringing him back into the conversation. Cas wonders how long he has to sit here until he’s allowed to appropriately excuse himself. Rowena texted him the name of a bar they were heading to twenty minutes ago and he hasn’t moved, politely nodding along as his parents and Hester exchange horror stories from different sets.

“This is the problem with child actors,” Hester says. “Having a kid not knowing how to be professional is par for the course, but when the parents don’t know how to behave? It’s unbelievable. The number of parents I have witnessed stealing from craft services would make your jaw drop.”

“Oh, I can believe it,” Mom says. “Chuck, do you remember the set of parents we met once who insisted on cutting their child’s hours short so they could do their school hours at a real school?”

“I understand wanting your kid to have a normal life, but that was basically just sabotaging the kid’s career,” Dad says.

“Homeschool is also a perfectly normal experience,” Mom says, waving around her wine glass. “I’m just glad our family had our priorities straight.”

“Did you enjoy it, Castiel?” Hester asks.

All eyes fall to him. Cas remembers being in business meetings as a child, the only kid in a room full of adults. It clicked early on that everything hinges on him doing what everyone around him wants him to do. If he doesn’t, money doesn’t get made.

The adults talk over him. When they ask him questions, he gives the right answer. Even now when he’s nearly twenty-two, he’s just something shiny that’s paraded around as needed. The role of Castiel Novak varies considerably.

“I loved it,” Cas says. It’s the only acceptable answer. “I’m so grateful I got to grow up doing something that I love.”

“A luxury even most adults cannot afford,” Hester says. “You never tired of it? The long hours, the hard work? You really enjoyed all of it?”

“Yes,” Cas says without skipping a beat. His parents’ eyes are on him. His phone won’t stop vibrating in his pocket. “That’s just part of the job. The challenging parts are what make it so rewarding.”

His mom told him that once when he was six years old and had locked himself in the bathroom at four in the morning because he didn’t want to go to work that day.

“It’s refreshing to see a young man with such a rigorous work ethic.”

“Speaking of,” Cas says, making a show of checking his watch like he doesn’t know exactly what time it is. “I have a plane to catch in twelve hours and I still have a script I’ve yet to read.”

“Castiel, surely you can read it on the plane,” Mom says with a pointed look.

“I get motion sick when I read on planes.”

“Please don’t let us stop you,” Hester says. She sounds genuine, like she’s the only adult at the table who doesn’t know he’s not planning on reading a single word tonight. “Actors need their beauty rest after all.”

The table laughs, but his mom doesn’t. Cas tries to not focus on that. He’s sure she would have found something else to raise her eyebrow at if he hadn’t left before the check came.

He makes a show of standing up, exchanging pleasantries, promising he’ll take care of dinner. At least that seems to get him off the hook.

Freedom hits the second he steps out of the restaurant. He looks up directions to the address Rowena texted and hails a cab rather than walking or figuring out the subway.

It isn’t until Cas is standing in front of the bar that his nerves halt him. It’s far from his first time drinking, and not at all his first time at a bar, but he isn’t one for nightlife. By the time he was fifteen, his parents had drilled into him that it would be unacceptable for him to be caught at any sort of bar or club, even once he reaches legal drinking age. If he got caught publicly drunk, it would ruin his image forever.

“I mean, just look at Meg,” his mom had said at the time.

Meg, who was just fifteen and already had two public intoxication charges under her belt. She once called Cas from a payphone at a random gas station two hours outside of LA, and he had to drive with just his learner’s permit to go pick her up. His mom was furious when she found out, but managed to keep his name out of that story. Cas watched from the sidelines as the public turned on Meg, made her into the bad guy. Just because she was self-medicating. Just because the world told her she peaked by the time she was thirteen. Just because people disliked the fact that she was a teenager and no longer a cute little kid. The more people hated her, the worse she got.

When people tell you you’re great at five years old, there’s nowhere to go but down.

Now, at nearly twenty-two, Cas has never once been photographed at a bar or a club. His image has remained squeaky clean all these years. His mom pats herself on the back for it.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t indulge when he’s alone and no one’s watching.

He goes to pull out his passport to show the bouncer, who just waves him inside. The bar isn’t quiet, but it’s not the busy New York nightclub he expects. He struggles to find his friends, sending a couple texts asking where they are and if they’re still here. Just when he’s thinking of giving up and going home, he feels a light tap on his shoulder.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Cas turns around, exhaling when he sees Rowena standing before him. “I just got here,” he smiles at her.

“I can tell. You appear very sober.”

“That’s unfortunate,” he says. “I’ve had some wine.”

“We’ll get you something stronger.” She links their arms together and leads him away from the bar.

“The alcohol’s that way,” he nods back to where they were.

“There’s a bar in the basement, dear,” she says, not breaking stride.

There’s another bouncer when they get downstairs and he lets them through without so much as blinking. Most of the basement seems to have been converted into a club, a DJ blasting music that Cas is shocked he wasn’t able to hear from upstairs. In the back behind a curtain are the bathrooms and a much smaller bar than the one upstairs.

“Two pickleback shots,” Rowena says to the bartender.

Cas eyes her. “Did you say pickle?”

She giggles, leaning forward to tap his nose. “I’ve had two tonight already. They’re not as bad as you’d think.”

“I don’t even like pickles.”

“But they’ll get you there.”

Cas doesn’t question it, just throws back the shot once it’s handed to him and scrunches his face up at the taste. “That’s disgusting.”

“Isn’t it?” Rowena winks. She puts a beer in his hands next. “Your chaser.”

“Never thought I could actually like the taste of beer,” Cas says. At least he’s able to rid his mouth of the pickle flavor.

“Come on,” she says. “Everyone’s on the dance floor.”

“I’m not a dancer.”

“Do you need another shot?”

“No, thanks,” Cas says, following her out into the main area of the basement.

She leads him to the dance floor that’s filled with a sea of bodies. People are dancing, swaying together, touching, laughing, smiling, kissing. Cas thinks he might break out in hives at any moment. People mostly seem too caught up in themselves to spare him a second glance, but what if someone recognizes him? What if someone sneaks a picture and sells it to a tabloid for fifty bucks? He rarely lets his guard down in public, and a nightclub is not the place to do so.

An arm around his neck and a girl crashing into him. Charlie laughs like seeing him is the greatest gift, like she could never experience more joy than in this moment.

Her lips move, but Cas can’t hear her over the music. He just smiles, keeping an arm around her waist to hold her steady. He scans the dance floor, finding Dean and Gabe in the middle of the action, girls all around them. Cas has seen Gabe in this environment before, but he’s never seen Dean like this. Everyone’s having fun and Cas hopes he doesn’t ruin it. He’s only slightly tipsy as of now and maybe the problem is his lack of intoxication. He downs half his beer.

He doesn’t dance, just kinda sways, so he drinks for something to do. When he runs out, he goes back to the bar for a refill, downing a quick shot of tequila first. He doesn’t like not being in control in public, but maybe Meg had the right idea when she started carrying around vodka in her water bottle.

A girl talks to him at the bar, touches his arm and bats her eyes. Cas entertains her while he waits for his beer and tries to ignore the guy on his other side, pressed close due to lack of available space.

The guy is warm and solid, and if Cas was any drunker, he’d outright lean against him. He doesn’t let himself look because he knows he wouldn’t be able to stop, so instead he settles for their skin brushing together. It does more for Cas than the random girl hanging off him.

When he gets back to the dance floor, he hangs around on the outskirts, drinking and supervising. He keeps an eye on each of his friends, assigning himself the responsibility of stepping in if they need him.

He gets more giggly the more he drinks. He knows he’s a happy drunk, far friendlier and outgoing than he ever is when he’s sober. It’s freeing to let go like this. All the stresses and the sadness and the nerves and the weight of life don’t seem as big a deal. It’s easier to just laugh at everything.

Charlie drags him to the bathroom at one point, tasking him with the responsibility of watching her drink. He takes it seriously, holding the cup in his hands and not taking his eyes off it for a second.

“I’m trying to see my reflection in your drink,” Cas calls to her. “Like in The Lion King.”

“See anything?” she asks from the stall.

“No,” Cas sighs. “I can’t see myself.”

“Have you tried looking in the mirror?”

“Smart,” Cas says. He takes a sip of her drink. He’s sure she won’t mind. “What’s taking so long?”

She flushes and steps out of the stall, going over to the sink. “Girl stuff.”

“Are you on your period?”

“Why would you ask me that?”

“I thought that’s what girl stuff is code for.”

“Good luck to your future girlfriend,” Charlie laughs. She takes back her drink and rests her elbow on his shoulder. “If I was straight, I would date you.”

“Um. Thank you.”

“No, really,” Charlie says. “You’re such a nice guy. And not the kinda nice guy that insists they’re nice. You’re just nice.”

“I always thought I was just shy.”

“Do you want me to set you up?” Charlie asks. “I know some great girls. Straight, unfortunately for me. But good for you!”

“Maybe,” Cas says. Dating is not something he ever discusses with his friends and he’d rather keep it that way. He thinks back to the days of being thirteen and being asked in every interview if he and Meg were dating.

As an adult, he questions why so many adults were so invested in the romantic life of two thirteen-year-olds.

“Please?” Charlie says. “Rowena and I were talking. We think you’re lonely.”

“You guys were talking about me?”

“Duh,” Charlie rolls her eyes. “Harmless talk. Just like how we talk about Gabe or how I’m sure you guys talk about me.”

Cas leans back against the sink, sipping his drink. He’s so used to people talking about him and having opinions about his life, but hearing that his friends were talking about him makes him feel itchy. Cas tries to remind himself that it’s not like they were gossiping or saying anything bad. They’re just talking.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Cas says. “I have you guys. I have my parents.”

“Yeah, but it wouldn’t hurt to have more friends,” Charlie says. “And maybe a girlfriend.”

“Maybe.”

“You can set me up too! We can go on a double date.”

“I don’t know any other lesbians.”

“As far as you know.”

Cas thinks on that, following Charlie out of the bathroom. Society is much more forward thinking now than even just a few years ago, but that doesn’t mean all the queer people are out of the closet. Cas doesn’t even have to look in the mirror to know that one.

He stops at the edge of the dance floor to scan his surroundings, and suddenly freezes as his eyes land on Dean kissing a random girl in the middle of the crowd.

Cas has never felt so sick over watching two people kiss and he immediately wants to book it back to the bathroom so he can throw up.

There’s some girl grinding on Gabe and he also catches how Rowena has glued herself to the tallest guy in the room. Cas doesn’t care about any of that as his eyes stay stuck on Dean. The girl’s shirt rides up and Dean holds onto her bare waist, fingers dipping nearly low enough to graze her ass. She’s cupping his cheek as they kiss, her other hand lost somewhere in his hair, and Cas just…

He doesn’t know why it’s one of the worst feelings he’s ever felt in his life. He feels like he was just thrown out of an airplane or left to drown at the bottom of the ocean. He kind of fucking hates that girl, hates all the girls who have been dancing with Dean all night. That girl has no right to kiss him.

Cas doesn’t either. He knows that. He doesn’t even really want Dean for himself. That would lead to no good. But he doesn’t want anyone else to have Dean like that.

He sets his beer down somewhere and stumbles toward the exit, knowing he can’t take another second of this.

Dean flirts like it’s second nature and two of the interviewers today asked if he has a girlfriend. Cas can smell the womanizer label from a mile away.

The air is humid when he steps outside, but it’s exactly what he needs. There’s a huge line of people waiting to be let into the bar and Cas pays them no mind, sitting himself down on the curb. Elbows on knees, head in hands, Cas wonders what the hell is wrong with him.

A bouncer towers over him. “You gotta move, kid.”

“Sorry.”

Cas pulls himself to his feet, eyes darting around to the other people on the street. Every time he sees someone holding a phone, he wants to throw up even more. Anybody could take his picture and sell it. He could wake up tomorrow to the image of himself as a drunken mess. He feels exposed standing in the middle of the street with no bodyguard or friends or even a freaking hat. Anyone could get him. He has to hide.

But he can’t go back inside that bar.

He turns a corner down a quieter street, spotting a small playground tucked between a row of brownstones. He notes the name and shoots a text off to Charlie, letting her know he had to get some air and decided to camp out in a playground.

It can’t be more than ten minutes of lying on a bench and trying to stargaze between buildings before he hears laughter and voices getting louder and louder. He sits up, seeing his friends enter the playground.

“Baby got drunk,” Gabe laughs, going over to him and plopping himself next to Cas.

“It was the pickle shots,” Cas says, letting Gabe pull him close. He can’t look at Dean.

“That was the nastiest thing I’ve ever tried,” Charlie says. She sits on the ground right in front of them.

“Are you feeling alright?” Rowena asks.

“I’m fine,” Cas says. He still feels a little sick, but he’s not sure it’s the alcohol.

“Here,” Dean says, handing over a water bottle. “We stopped for these.”

Cas looks up at him as he takes the water, relieved to note there aren’t any extra bodies hanging around. He doesn’t know what he’d do if he had to witness a girl come back to the hotel with them, knowing she was going to hook up with Dean.

“Thanks,” Cas says. He tries to not look directly at Dean’s face, but it’s hard when he catches some glitter shining on his cheeks. “You guys can go back. I just needed some air.”

“Nah,” Dean says, parking himself on Cas’s other side, pressed right up against him. “Nothing worthwhile in there.”

Cas is hunched over, but turns his head to look at him. Dean’s leaning back against the bench, arms thrown over the side as he holds Cas’s gaze.

It feels like a challenge. There’s no way Dean caught him staring. His eyes were closed the entire kiss. Cas kinda wants to vomit on his shoes.

“I think we should go back to the hotel,” Charlie says. “We have an early flight tomorrow.”

“Or we could stay out all night,” Gabe says. “Sleep on the plane.”

“I’m too old for that,” Rowena says. “I vote hotel.”

“Agreed,” Cas says.

“Hotel it is,” Dean says, jumping up. “I’ll get a cab.”

Once back at the hotel, Cas hesitates outside of his room, fumbling with his key like it’ll keep him from having to go inside.

“Do you need help?” Dean asks. Gabe, Rowena, and Charlie have already gone back to their rooms.

Cas looks at him. “I’m worried my parents will be in there.”

“Don’t they have their own room?”

“Yes, but there have been times where one or both of them stays in my room if they’re fighting. Or if my mom wants to keep an eye on me.”

“You’re fucking twenty-two.”

“Almost.” Cas looks at him. “Still twenty-one.”

“Still a legal adult.”

“Regardless,” Cas says. “It’s not a regular occurrence so I can’t predict it, but I am not up for taking that risk tonight.”

“How would they even get the key?”

“They’d ask the front desk for a copy, I think. They know my alias.”

“You wanna crash in my room?” Dean asks. “I got snacks.”

“I just need a bed.”

“I got that too.”

Cas doesn’t spare his room a second look before following Dean down the hall. He’s thankful there’s no one else around to witness this, but his eyes do catch on the security camera that sits innocently in the corner of the ceiling. He hesitates, but then follows Dean into his room anyway.

Like Cas previously predicted, Dean’s room looks exactly like his own. He stands behind the closed door awkwardly, watching as Dean goes over to his suitcase and rifles through it.

“Here,” Dean says, tossing him a shirt and some sweatpants. “You can borrow these. Feel free to shower if you want, but I’m going to bed.”

“I’ll shower in the morning,” Cas says, holding the clothes as he walks over to the bathroom to change.

Wearing Dean’s clothes is kind of intoxicating and Cas wonders if he could get away with keeping them.

When he steps back out into the room, Dean is standing near the window with a mini bottle of champagne. He’s already changed and Cas can’t even comprehend how he would have reacted if he had walked out of the bathroom while Dean was changing.

“More drinking?” Cas asks.

“It’s champagne. We’re celebrating, aren’t we?”

“I guess,” Cas says, even though they didn’t celebrate like this during last year’s press tour.

“Here,” Dean says, grabbing a couple plastic cups and pouring out the champagne. “Let’s toast.”

“To what?”

“To the show! To friendship. To New York.”

“Cheers,” Cas says, bumping his cup against Dean’s as they finish off the champagne. He wonders if Dean brought that girl back if he’d toast with her or if they’d already be fucking.

“Sorry there’s just the one bed,” Dean says. “My brother and I have shared twin beds on vacation before so I figured it’d be fine. I forgot you’re probably not used to that.”

“It’s fine,” Cas says. “It’s a king.”

He can’t even think about sharing a twin bed with Dean, sleeping on top of each other.

“Plenty of room,” Dean says, collapsing on one side.

Cas watches him, takes his time walking over to the other side and getting in carefully. Even with being thoughtful and keeping himself close to the edge, there’s still plenty of space between them.

“When I was in eighth grade, my class went on an overnight field trip,” Dean says to the black room. “They assigned four kids to a room. Only two beds so everyone had to share. You know when you’re fourteen and so scared of seeming like you might be gay?”

Cas thinks about lying, thinks about saying no, thinks about not responding. Thinks about saying he’s scared of that now. Instead, he softly breathes out, “Yeah.”

“My brother said that’s toxic masculinity at its finest. Anyway, I was sharing a room with my friends and we decided to put pillows down the middle of the bed so we didn’t end up accidentally touching. Come to find out the next morning at breakfast, pretty much all the guys in the grade did that.”

“Not the girls?”

“I guess it’s less gay for girls to touch,” Dean says. “Who knows? But turns out the friend I shared a bed with is gay now. And I’m bi. So I guess the pillow barrier did nothing to stop our sexualities from taking over.”

“How many gay people do you know?” Cas asks.

“A few. That old middle school friend and also Charlie. Plus, a couple guys I’ve hooked up with. And myself, if that counts.”

“I just know you and Charlie.”

“Really? Isn’t showbusiness filled with gay people?”

“I’ve worked with gay actors,” Cas says. His mind drifts to Michael. But Michael always insisted he was straight so maybe he doesn’t count. “No one I consider a friend.”

Dean turns over to face him and Cas doesn’t even have to turn the light on to know he’s smiling. “So you consider me a friend?”

“I already confirmed that during the panel today. Isn’t that enough?”

“Sure,” Dean says. “I’m just happy to have it on and off the record that we’re friends.”

“Shut up.”

“You can’t be mean to me, I’m your friend.”

“You’re really testing the boundaries of that friendship.”

Dean laughs, the room feeling lighter for it. Cas thinks back to being a kid and having sleepovers with Meg like this, staying up all night talking and laughing in one of their dark bedrooms.

“We should sleep,” Cas says. “I’m getting breakfast with my parents in a few hours and our flight is right after that.”

“Thank god we have the rest of the day off when we get home,” Dean says. “I wouldn’t step in front of a camera right now if you paid me a million dollars.”

“Me neither.” A beat. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“Night, Cas.”

When Cas wakes up the next morning, it’s to an empty bed and the sound of the shower running. He’s fine for a moment, and then the pounding in his head kicks in. He glances at the clock and groans as he forces himself out of bed. As much as he feels like death, he can sleep on the plane. He has to meet his parents in the lobby in twenty minutes and he isn’t even packed.

He rifles through Dean’s gift basket and grabs a Gatorade and a travel size bottle of Aspirin. He knows he probably has the same stuff in his own room, but the idea of going anywhere without something in his body makes him want to vomit. He’s sure Dean won’t mind, but either way he leaves a note.

Stole your Gatorade and Aspirin. Sorry.

Because a hangover could never kill what little sense of humor he has, he signs the note with his obnoxious, oversized, unreadable signature and leaves it on the bed.

It’s just a short walk from Dean’s room to his own, but it still feels risky to walk through a hotel hallway in another man’s clothes while holding his own. At six in the morning no less. Sometimes he feels like he’s asking for a scandal.

It’s a relief when he gets to his room and his parents aren’t inside waiting. That doesn’t guarantee one or both of them didn’t try stopping by last night. While Cas gets ready, he debates if he should be honest about going out or claim he was asleep the whole time. High risk, high reward. It’s not like they can ground him anymore, but they’re at the helm of his career. Cas knows better than to mess with that.

There’s a knock at the door right as Cas finishes packing, and a childish part of him hopes for Dean.

He finishes off the Gatorade quickly before opening the door. His parents greet him on the other side.

“Good morning,” Mom says, walking into the room. “It’s good to see you up and ready to go. I was worried we’d have to drag you out of bed.”

“I’m used to early call times.”

“Hey, do you remember that one time you had a three am call time for a sunrise shoot?” Dad chuckles. “You were about nine, but I was convinced you were gonna drop your first F-bomb.”

“I remember that,” Cas smiles with him. “I don’t even remember the project.”

“That was for the Silenced film,” Mom says. It doesn’t even take her a second. Sometimes Cas wonders if she has his IMDb memorized.

“What movie was that again?” Dad asks.

“The Lifetime one where he was kidnapped and held hostage in a basement. Based on a true story as well.”

“Right,” Dad nods. “Well, they can’t all be Oscar winners.”

“Always an expert at playing the victim,” Mom says as she looks at him. “Breakfast?”

His parents had picked out a place a couple blocks away. The interior is mostly white and grey marble with subway tiles decorating the walls. The waitress asks if they would prefer bottled water and Cas is tempted to ask what they have by way of Gatorade flavors. Instead, he drinks his bottled water and orders an egg white omelette.

“How did the script reading go last night?” Mom asks, her eyes cast down as she speaks.

It feels like a test. “I only got through the first act,” he lies. And because he’s incapable of omitting the truth entirely, he adds, “I met up with the cast for a drink after. I’m gonna read the rest of the script on the plane.”

His mom doesn’t even look at him, focused on cutting her food. “I thought you get motion sick from reading on planes.”

“Only sometimes.”

She finally sets her eyes on him. “You left dinner early so you could go drinking with your friends.”

“It’s cast bonding,” Cas defends.

“Castiel, it’s unprofessional to leave in the middle of a business dinner that you committed to.”

“You guys set it up for me,” Cas says. “I already committed to spending time with the rest of the cast. You committed me to something else.”

“Well, you should have noted it on the calendar,” Mom says. She lets out a heavy sigh. “We’re just trying to advance your career. It’s our job.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Cas says. He drags his fork through his food, not particularly hungry. “Did I ruin the dinner?”

“No, not at all,” Dad insists. “We weren’t there much longer anyway. Hester really liked you.”

“She did?”

“She did,” Mom confirms. “I’ll email you the sides once I get them. I want you to film that audition before Monday so we can look it over. We might have Billie take a look as well and see if she has any notes.”

“Okay,” Cas nods. “Where is it filming?”

“Right here. Next summer,” Dad says. “You’ll be done with season four by then, so it’s perfect timing. Won’t it be nice to spend a few months in New York?”

“Perfect,” Cas repeats, slightly bummed he’ll be away from California for another summer. He was even thinking about the possibility of spending some time at his second home up in NorCal.

“It’ll be great,” Dad says. “We can come visit and go to Broadway shows and see the Empire State Building. I can show you the apartment I lived in right out of college.”

“Could we see it today?”

“No time. You have to leave for the airport soon, and I was living across town in Hell’s Kitchen.” His dad smirks, and then lowers his voice. “This was before it was known as a gay neighborhood. My apartment was on the fifth floor of a walkup and rent was dirt cheap.”

Cas keeps his eyes averted as he eats, pretending like his parents referencing anything remotely gay doesn’t set off a million lightning bolts and fire alarms and nuclear bombs in his head.

“We should probably get this boxed up to go,” Mom says, glancing at her watch. “The car is picking you up in thirty minutes.”

“When are you guys leaving?” Cas asks.

“Not for a few days,” Mom says. “We have a few meetings that we’d rather attend in person than over the phone.”

“You should stay longer,” Cas says. “Take a few days off. Have a vacation.”

“Now isn’t the time for a vacation,” Mom says. “It’s a nice thought. Chuck, do you remember our second wedding anniversary? Key West.”

“That was a nice resort,” Dad smiles. “Cas, I drank out of an actual coconut. I have a picture somewhere.”

“That sounds nice,” Cas smiles. He doesn’t think photographic evidence is proof enough his parents ever actually took a day off.

“And the hotel breakfast had these muffins that we were in love with,” Dad continues. “Naomi, do you remember when you yelled at me for sneaking a bunch of them back to our room?”

“I wasn’t going to let you be the reason we got kicked out.” She finally cracks a smile. “Thank you for sharing them with me.”

“Of course.”

Cas watches the back and forth, unable to keep himself from grinning. It’s rare to see his parents acting like regular people, let alone tell him old stories. Cas knows his career has eclipsed all of their lives, and it’s nice to think of a time when his parents cared about something else. Sometimes he sees them more as business partners rather than a married couple.

The waitress takes that moment to return the check, hesitating when Cas ends up making eye contact with her. He knows immediately he’s been recognized.

“Hi,” she smiles shyly. “Sorry if this is weird, but I just wanted to tell you On the Road is my favorite show. I can’t wait for season four.”

“Thank you,” Cas tells her with a smile.

“Scout is my favorite character,” she continues. “I almost dropped out of college because of him.”

“Oh, wow,” Cas says. “But you didn’t?”

“No,” she laughs. “My parents would have killed me. But I still love the show though.”

“Well, thank you,” Cas says. “I appreciate it.”

“Can we get a picture?”

“Quickly, please,” Mom says. “Castiel has a plane to catch.”

“Oh, of course,” the waitress says, pulling out her phone.

She passes her phone over and Cas does his best to smile as his dad takes the picture. He’s just thankful he’s mostly over his hangover at this point, hoping he doesn’t look half-dead in the photo.

“Thank you again,” the waitress says before collecting the check and heading into the back.

His parents are already a few steps ahead. Cas pauses to take out his wallet and drop a couple extra twenties on the table. His mom tips fine, but Cas likes to supplement it on occasion, especially whenever the waiter turns out to be a fan.

He walks behind his parents on the sidewalk back to the hotel and all the way up to his room. He goes through the rest of the gift basket quickly with his dad, giving him most of the snacks. He does keep a bag of chocolate covered pretzels for the plane and also takes the Gatorade and Aspirin so to give to Dean.

His parents escort him down to the lobby where his friends are already waiting. Cas doesn’t care who sees when he hugs his parents goodbye.

“It was great seeing you, kiddo,” Dad says, clapping him on the back.

“You too.”

“Have a safe flight,” Mom says. She reaches out to tame a few rogue strands of his hair. “Are you regularly using that hair gel?”

“Sometimes.”

“Keep at it. It makes you look presentable.”

“I will.”

She hugs him. “See you soon.”

“Bye.”

It’s weird watching them walk back toward the elevators. Cas thinks there’ll always be a little kid in him who breaks down crying when his parents walk away.

But he’s an adult and he’s watched his parents walk away from him a million times before, so he swallows down those emotions and goes over to where his friends are waiting. Dean’s hanging back from them, scrolling through his phone.

Cas holds out the Gatorade and Aspirin. “Call it even?”

Dean takes them, smiling. “You’re giving me a green Gatorade to make up for the blue one you took? That’s not fair.”

“What are you talking about? Green is the best flavor.”

Dean groans dramatically. “You’re killing me here, Cas.”

“I like the purple kind,” Charlie says. “It’s what I used to drink after track practice.”

“Ah, Gatorade,” Gabe grins. “Serving both professional and middle school athletes, and hungover TV stars. Cas, you should audition for their next commercial.”

“Bite me, Gabe.”

Gabe laughs, turning back to the conversation he was having with Rowena.

“Um,” Cas lowers his voice just for Dean. “I’ll wash those clothes when I get home and get them back to you on Monday.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean whispers back. “You can keep them.”

“I’m not taking your clothes.”

“Do you know how many sweatpants I own? I can let go of a pair.”

Cas nods. Normally he’d try to fight this harder, or would just leave the clothes in Dean’s trailer anyway, but Cas thinks he might keep them. It’s a little crazy and a little stupid of him, but he likes the idea of keeping a tiny piece of Dean. Even if it just serves as a souvenir from their short time in New York. He’ll take whatever he can get.

Cas doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of watching Dean’s giddiness over an airline’s first class lounge. Dean was wound with too many nerves on the way here to really enjoy it, but now that they’re in it again, he’s acting like a kid in a candy store.

“It’s wholesome,” Rowena says as the four of them sit and watch Dean sampling all the free food set out.

“It makes me want to appreciate this even more,” Charlie says.

“Guys,” Dean grins as he comes back over. “You know all this is free, right?”

“You’re cute,” Rowena tells him to his face.

“You flirting with me?”

“Only if you want me to be.”

“Nope. No,” Charlie shakes her head. She points at Dean. “No on-set romances. I believe I made that very clear to you on your first day,” she tells him.

“You’re boring,” Gabe says. “If any of us were replaced with a lesbian, you’d abolish that rule immediately.”

“Depends. Is she hot?”

“Smoking. And she already comes with a U-Haul.”

“That’s not a selling point.”

“Don’t worry, Charlie,” Rowena says. “Dean and I are strictly platonic. He couldn’t keep up with me.”

“Good,” Charlie says. “Trust me, guys, it’s for the best. I was on a show once where a bunch of the cast were hooking up. Let me tell you, it makes for an extremely unpleasant experience backstage once the inevitable breakup happens.”

Cas can’t help but let his eyes slide over to Dean, noting he was already looking at him. Dean doesn’t break eye contact, just lets Cas look at him like there’s nothing to hide. Cas has to be the one to look away just so he can breathe.

Cas doesn’t spend the plane ride reading his script, instead watching the playback of the Emmys that aired the night before.

Normally the network flies the cast out, but considering that none of the cast was nominated this year either, a press circuit was scheduled instead.

Cas tries not to let it bother him, has been trying since nominations were announced over the summer and he was forced into a very long phone call with his team about how they can improve for next year. The show won seven Emmy’s previously, not to mention the various other Emmy’s, nominations, and awards Cas has collected for other projects throughout his career. Awards don’t mean anything anyway. If Cas cared that much about awards, he’d have his on display instead of using them as a bookends.

Besides, it’s probably for the best the cast didn’t attend this year. Michael Cohen ended up winning Outstanding Lead Actor in a Drama Series, and Cas thinks if he had to sit there and listen to that man give some bullshit speech, he might gouge his own eyes out.

There’s always next year. That’s what Marv always says. Then again, Marv manages to score at least one nomination for both Outstanding Director and Outstanding Writer each year, and usually ends up taking home some kind of award.

A nomination is an honor, and an award only means something if you win.

Chapter Text

At this point, it’s tradition that Marv hosts a viewing party for the premiere of each season in his downtown Vancouver penthouse. Sometimes different crew members will host viewing parties for anticipated episodes throughout the season, but Marv always has dibs on hosting the cast and crew to watch the very first episode.

Marv had asked Cas if he wanted to preview the first episode privately beforehand, just like he asks every year, but Cas declined. He wants to see it for the first time along with everyone else. It makes the first viewing more special. This is a show he loves and he doesn’t want to give up the opportunity of watching it with the people who helped make it happen.

He’s kind of pleased that the premiere falls on the same day as his birthday. In previous years, people would ask him what he’s doing and how he’s going to celebrate, and Cas never knows how to tell people that he’s perfectly fine hanging out alone in his apartment. His apartment is one of the few places he doesn’t have to perform, save for the auditions he films there. But all his work is confined to his office. The rest of the apartment is a safe haven.

That worked for the first couple of seasons. Last year when Cas turned twenty-one, Gabe, Rowena, and Charlie insisted on at least taking him out to dinner for his birthday. Even Cas can admit it was nice to spend the evening with his friends rather than alone.

He certainly won’t be alone this year. Thankfully, people don’t really care when you turn twenty-two. Cas remembers how past interviewers were always so excited to ask him about turning a new age such as sixteen, eighteen, or twenty-one. He never knew how to convey that growing older sent him spiraling over the possibility of losing his novelty. Maybe now that he’s past the milestone birthdays, people will start to leave him alone. Twenty-two can be the year of fading into obscurity, which he both craves and fears.

When Cas steps into Marv’s penthouse, just like every year, he’s blown away by the grandeur of the place. It’s hard to believe any person actually lives here. Every surface is spotless, the furniture sharp and luxurious, something more akin to a museum than someone’s home. Every corner has a side table or piece of art or fake plant. No real plants, for some reason, despite the floor to ceiling windows. Out of curiosity, Cas once asked Marv about the lack of real plants, Marv simply stated he wouldn’t be home enough to water them. Cas didn’t bother pointing out he could at least get a cactus.

The penthouse is already full of their crew milling about. Cas catches one of their camera operators chatting with Charlie and decides to merge himself into their conversation, knowing she’s one of his go-to lifelines during any kind of outing.

The TV is already on, set to mute as the show airing before theirs wraps up. As the clock ticks closer to eight, one of the ADs starts directing everyone into the living room to find a place to sit.

Cas takes a spot on the floor, directly in front of the couch. The person sitting behind him offers up his seat, but Cas declines. The rest of the cast sits with him on the floor and Cas is secretly pleased that Dean ends up next to him. His knee bumps into Cas’s thigh a few times as they settle, and Cas tries reminding himself that he’s a grown man and has no business blushing over something like that.

There’s an armchair in the corner that no one touches. That’s reserved for Marv.

“Everyone comfy?” Marv asks as he stands in front of the TV. He nods in approval when people say yes. “Good. I want to thank you all for your hard work so far on this season of On the Road. Forty years ago, I took a directionless road trip with nothing but a dream. And when I say directionless, I mean that literally and metaphorically. I didn’t even have a map.”

Everyone laughs. Cas smiles politely as Marv looks right at him. He’s heard different versions of this speech repeatedly over the years.

“At the end of that road trip, I didn’t have anything except the idea for a TV show and a pilot script that looks nothing at all like the show we’re making today. Seriously. The very first version of the pilot included a murder mystery B-plot. We could be making a very different show right now.

“But I’m glad we’re not. I’m happy with the show we’re making every single day. This show is my baby. It’s the love of my life. I’m thankful you all are working to help make my dream come true.”

The room applauds. As much as Cas loves this show and the story and Scout, he wonders what it’d be like if he was acting on a project that he created. He’s had some ideas here and there of projects to write, stories he wants to tell, and plenty of silent opinions on the projects he’s acted on. Maybe the right move is to create your own show and hire people to bring that dream to life. If only it were that easy.

Marv continues to thank people, listing departments but not names. Cas can’t blame him, knowing it would take a very long time to list the name of every person who works on their set. But it still feels weird for him and the rest of his castmates to be the only ones who get shout outs by name.

“Alright, I see it’s nearly time,” Marv says, glancing at his watch. “I’ll let that be my cutoff music. Again, thank you everyone for being here. I hope you like season four.”

Despite feeling confident in the script, the acting, the directing, and every person who works on the show, Cas never truly knows how the end product will look. He learned early on that things can get majorly hacked down during the editing process. Storylines are written out and dialogue is erased or added. Not to mention everything that special effects can do.

Cas can remember a time when he was just a kid and watching a scene he was proud of ruthlessly edited down to nothing. He had worked for weeks on that scene, went over it again and again with his acting coach, only for the scene to barely feature him at all. When he expressed his disappointment, his mom told him that’s just movie magic.

He’s never felt that way with On the Road. For the most part, the editing is truthful to the original script. Marv always gets final say with each episode that airs and that makes Cas feel safe. If there’s anyone who loves this show more than Cas, it’s the guy who created it.

Despite acting opposite him for over a month now, it’s great to see Dean in action on the screen. It’s immediately apparent that Dean’s got real talent.

Seeing the two of them on screen together is exhilarating. Dean slips right in like he’s been here the whole time. Cas never felt like something was missing from their show before, but now seeing Dean on screen, he can’t help but wish Dean had been there from the jump. He feels somewhat on display as everyone sits around the TV and watches Scout and Finn have a solo moment at the end of the episode. The music, the way it’s edited, it looks entirely different from how it felt during shooting. There’s one cut where their eyes linger on each other without speaking. Cas almost has to look away during that moment, never having felt so exposed watching himself on screen.

He glances at Dean, whose eyes are stuck to the TV, knee still pressed into Cas’s thigh.

There’s a round of applause when the episode ends. Cas wonders if they’re not just all clapping for themselves. Shortly after, a PA brings out a cake. Cas is slightly surprised when he realizes it’s a birthday cake for him, mostly hoping he could get through the evening without any kind of celebration.

They break off into smaller groups after the candles are blown out, and Cas sticks close to his castmates.

“You should have seen your face,” Gabe laughs, already digging into his second slice of cake.

“I wasn’t expecting it,” Cas defends.

“It’s your birthday,” Rowena says.

“I still wasn’t expecting it.”

“So you were just gonna go your whole birthday without cake? Not even a cupcake?” Charlie asks.

“I was planning on that, yes.”

“Cas, that’s so sad,” Charlie says.

“Well, I have cake now,” he says, holding up his plate like a prop, mouth pressed into a tight smile.

“We should go out tonight,” Gabe says. “Celebrate on the town. You only turn twenty-two once.”

“I don’t know,” Cas says.

“Come on, Cas,” Rowena says. “We were already talking to some of the crew about getting drinks after this. No crazy clubs.”

“Maybe,” Cas says. He isn’t mentally prepared for going to a bar. His social battery is already pretty drained. But he does like the idea of having a drink or three.

His phone starts vibrating and when he pulls it out of his pocket, he sees it’s his mom calling. “I have to take this,” he says, setting his plate down and moving across the living room to let himself out on the balcony.

He can breathe a little easier out here with the lack of voices and the fresh air. He stares down at his ringing phone and takes a breath before answering. “Hi, Mom.”

“Happy birthday, Castiel.”

He smiles, relaxes against the railing as he stares at the city below. “Thank you.”

“Did you have a good day?”

“Yeah,” he says. “We had a shorter work day so we could all go to Marv’s apartment and watch the premiere.”

“That sounds like a nice way to celebrate,” she says. “Your father and I watched the show. There aren’t any official reviews posted yet, but the team has been monitoring fan response online and it’s overall positive.”

“That’s good,” Cas says. “Did you and Dad like it?”

“I thought there were a couple slow moments,” she says. “Hard to avoid with any hour-long program.”

“I thought so too.”

“It was definitely a strong season opener. The introduction of a new character usually helps shows so we should be seeing good things here. This might even extend the show’s life by a few years.”

“I thought you said before the show was safe for a while.”

“That was before the writer’s strike,” she says. “Doesn’t hurt to tack on a little insurance.”

“I guess you’re right.” A beat. “Is Dad with you?”

“He’s on an evening walk. Did you want to speak to him?”

“It’s fine. We were texting a little earlier.”

“That’s nice.”

Silence for another few moments. Cas drums his fingers against the railing.

And then they both start talking at the same time.

“Sorry, you go,” he says.

“I was just saying goodbye. Did you have something else to say?”

“Oh, um, not really.” He pauses again for a second. “What time was I born? I’ve always wondered.”

“12:01 am,” she says. “Since it was so close to midnight, the doctor asked if I wanted your birthday on the seventeenth or the eighteenth.”

“Why’d you pick the eighteenth?”

“It doesn’t matter how close to midnight it was, you were still born on the eighteenth.”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that Grandpa James was also born on the eighteenth?”

She’s quiet for a moment and then says, “Well, you are indeed named after him.”

“Just my middle name.”

“I would have picked James for your first name, but my dad said you deserved a name that’s unique to you.”

“Castiel is certainly unique enough.”

“That it is,” she says. “I should get going. We should have Nielsen ratings by the end of the weekend, but I’ll email them over sooner if I have them.”

“Sounds good.”

“Have a good night, Cas.”

“You too.”

The line goes dead. Cas stares at his phone and then out of curiosity, looks at his call history to check the length of the call. Just over two minutes.

He sighs, shoving his phone back in his pocket as he continues to stare out at the city. The only time he’s ever been this high up in Vancouver is when his parents visited for the first time, and they went to an observation deck. The city is different in the daylight with his parents by his side, and right now Cas can’t shake the loneliness in his chest.

He only ever opened up to Meg about how sad he gets on his birthday, which she dubbed the birthday blues, and then proceeded to make it her mission to always do something for him to celebrate. She was in rehab the year they turned sixteen, and she still managed to arrange for a cake, balloons, a pinata, and a bouquet of flowers to be delivered to his house. His mom was not amused by a six am pinata delivery.

When he turned seventeen and had his first birthday in twelve years without Meg, he spent the day in his trailer in between takes either crying or lying in bed.

He’s learned how to live without her, how to celebrate birthdays without her. There’ll always be a piece of him missing, a piece that was buried in the ground alongside her, but the pain has gotten easier to manage over the years.

If his parents hovered less and Meg’s substance abuse wasn’t what killed her, Cas is sure he would have gone down that same path. It’s not like he hasn’t had a thousand chances in his life to end up there.

The balcony door opens and Cas straightens up. When he realizes it’s Dean, Cas relaxes and goes back to leaning against the railing. He already feels like Dean isn’t someone he needs to perform in front of.

“Getting some air?” Dean asks, joining him at the railing.

“My mom called,” Cas says. “Wished me happy birthday. Gave me her review of the episode.”

“What’d she think?”

“She liked it. She likes your character.”

“She said that?”

“She implied it.”

“That’s something,” Dean says. “My phone’s been blowing up all night. My family watched it a couple hours ago.”

“Did they like it?”

“They loved it. My mom said they taped it and already rewatched it.”

Cas smiles. “I’m glad they’re so supportive.”

“They would have been honest if they hated it,” Dean says. “They watched the first few episodes when I was on that soap, but I’m pretty sure my brother’s the only one who watched every episode. He actually ended up getting really into it. I think he still watches. He was pissed he couldn’t grill me anymore for spoilers.”

“Well, hopefully he likes this show as much as your old one.”

“I already know he loves it. He rewatches it whenever he catches a cold.”

“Wow,” Cas says. “If you want, I’m sure we can all sign something for him.”

“Maybe for his birthday. My family was thinking of coming out to visit sometime in the spring. He’d probably explode if I brought him to set.”

“They’re all more than welcome.”

Dean pulls out his phone when it vibrates again, smiling as he scrolls for a second. “This is so crazy, man,” he mumbles under his breath.

“You know a lot of people.”

“I feel like every person I’ve ever spoken to in my life is reaching out to me,” Dean says. “I’m getting texts from people I went to kindergarten with. Do I have to change my number?”

“You might,” Cas tells him honestly. “Are you ready for your life to change?”

“I feel like it already has.”

“I told you you’ll never go grocery shopping in peace again.”

“Think I’m starting to get that.”

“Dean, will you promise me something?”

“Okay.”

“Please don’t ever change. People like you are so rare in this business and I would hate to see that disappear.”

“What do you mean, people like me?”

“You’re down to earth. You’re honest. Real. Sometimes I feel like everything in my life is fake. I’ve watched fame destroy good people. Promise me you won’t let it.”

Dean stares back at him, their shoulders brushing together as they lean against the railing. His face is set in a hard line, but Cas can spot the fear in his eyes. He nods. “I promise, Cas.”

“Good.”

“If I ever start acting like an entitled asshole, you have my permission to call me out on it.”

“I won’t hesitate to do so.”

The door opens again and Cas immediately backs away from Dean like he’s been burned. It’s easy to forget people inside could see them clearly through the windows. Dean has the ability to make him feel like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

“There are my stars,” Marv says, voice joyful, arms open. “How are you feeling, Dean?”

“Excited,” Dean tells him. His eyes sweep over to Cas quickly and then back to Marv. “Was just taking a second to breathe.”

“It’s overwhelming,” Marv nods in understanding. “I remember my big break. It’s like people can’t get enough of you. They’re always clamoring for you to give them something. Isn’t that right, Cas?”

“Right.”

“I could spot your light from a mile away, Dean,” Marv tells him. “Everything about you screams star. Even your name. Dean Winchester. And I’ll get to tell the world that I had you first.”

Dean laughs politely, shrugging like he doesn’t know he’s got it, eyes flicking over to Cas, who just stares back.

“Do you agree with me, Cas? Do we have a star on our hands?”

“Yes,” Cas says. He doesn’t look away from Dean. “I think he’ll end up being an A-list movie star one day.”

“A word of advice, Dean,” Marv says. “If a Novak compliments you, it’s the real deal. Now both of you get back inside. You’re standing a little close to the edge and I’m not looking to have either of you jump on me.”

As the party winds down, a few people ask Cas if he’s joining them for a drink after, which he politely declines. Even though Dean’s going and being around Dean is anything but exhausting, Cas thinks he might wind up hiding in the bathroom if he’s forced to continue being around people tonight. His nerves can only take so much.

When he gets home, it’s like he can finally breathe again. He changes into the clothes Dean let him borrow in New York. It’s only been a few days and this is the third time Cas has worn them. He doesn’t mind being this pathetic when no one’s eyes are on him. No one’s writing any articles about Castiel Novak wearing another man’s clothes.

He boots up his personal laptop, immediately searching for his folder of old pictures and home movies. There aren’t a lot of amateur pictures of him from when he was younger. Most photos taken of him were headshots or magazine shoots or some kind of promotional material. There’s only a handful of pictures of him at home, taken by one of his parents. His favorite one is of him as a toddler, squished between his parents on the couch with his grandfather towering over them and looking down with a smile.

Around the time his grandfather passed away, his mom made a comment about how that photo would sell big time and Cas, just ten years old, had a complete meltdown and refused to come out of his room until his mom promised not to sell the picture.

She kept her word, but did give him a stern lecture that he is not allowed to behave like that. Cas wonders what she would do if he ever had the balls to throw a tantrum on set or a red carpet.

There’s a photo from the day he was born, and it’s of his mom in a hospital bed with him bundled up in her arms. His dad stands beside her, both of them staring down at his sleeping face, and Cas wonders if they were already planning to put him in showbusiness at that point.

He booked his first job at three weeks old. Being born a month prematurely, he still looked like a newborn after a few weeks. As an adult, he now knows that studios sometimes specifically hire former preemies so they can get away with the newborn look on an older baby.

There aren’t many other photos from when he was that young so he breaks his number one rule and googles himself. Specifically he googles, “castiel novak baby pictures” and immediately regrets it when the first two headlines he spots are, “Is Castiel Novak Not Cute Anymore?” and another titled, “How Castiel Novak Went From Adorable Cherub To Hollywood’s Sexiest Lead.”

He closes the tab, erases his internet history, and goes to bed.

Chapter Text

A take can be ruined for any number of reasons, and today the audio is the star of Cas’s downfall.

They cut for the third time due to audio feedback ruining the take, just after taking a break for forty minutes to fix the issue, and Cas daydreams about the possibility of getting home before ten pm. Sometimes he misses the days of being underage and therefore legally required to stop working after a certain number of hours.

“This is no good,” Gabe groans. “Any chance we’re done within the next couple hours?”

“Doubt it,” Charlie sighs, flopping back on the fake motel bed.

“Anna’s flight gets in at eight and I’m supposed to pick her up,” Gabe says.

“You didn’t say your sister was visiting,” Rowena says. “Is she staying for long?”

“Just a few days. She was worried about missing her classes.”

“Bring her to set,” Charlie says. “Last time she was here, I was this close to convincing her and Rowena to form a redheaded girl band.”

“I’m a one-woman act,” Rowena says.

“I didn’t know you had a sister,” Dean says. “Her name is Anna?”

“Yeah,” Gabe smiles. He points a finger in Dean’s direction. “Try anything, Winchester, and I’ll fill your trailer with bees.”

“Why doesn’t Cas get the same warning?”

“Oh, I did,” Cas assures him. He never told Gabe the warning was pointless and he certainly doesn’t mention it now. Anna is nice, but she’s not his type.

“I thought we were friends, Gabe. Haven’t I proven myself?”

“You’re a good guy, Dean, but you’re an up-and-coming actor and she’s a nineteen-year-old college kid. I’m just looking out.”

“As an older brother, I can respect that,” Dean says. “I promise to treat your sister with nothing but dignity and kindness.”

“You’re a real stand-up guy, Dean.”

“Don’t I know it.”

Despite not getting cut until just before midnight, Cas arrives on set the next morning at six on the dot. He keeps his sunglasses on and hat pulled down to hide his exhaustion. He doesn’t even stop by his trailer, just immediately goes over to craft services and asks for the largest cup of coffee with as much caffeine as possible.

“Cas?”

He glances over to see Anna standing in the doorway of the tent, looking somewhat hesitant as she shuffles her feet.

“Hey, Anna,” he smiles, walking over to greet her. She opens her arms and he accepts the hug. “How was your flight?”

“It was good,” she says, following him back to the craft table where his coffee is waiting. “Gabe pulled some strings to upgrade me to business class.”

“Fancy.”

“Oh, absolutely,” she says. “How are things with you? Congrats on season four. I’ve been loving the first couple episodes so far.”

“Thank you,” he says. “Things have been good. Just working a lot. How’s school? Are you a sophomore now?”

“I am,” she smiles. “Officially declared journalism as my major.”

“That’s great.”

“Yeah, I like it,” she says. “I originally wanted to do something with art. I’ve always loved drawing so I figured something with that, but my parents didn’t think that was realistic.”

Cas frowns. “Their son is a successful actor, but they told their daughter not to pursue art?”

“Apparently,” she shrugs. “He’s the golden child. And they’re paying for school so I should stay on their good side. Plus, just because Gabe made it doesn’t mean I will too. What are the chances our family strikes gold twice?”

“Mine did.”

“No offense, Cas, but your grandfather put in the hard work of becoming a famous movie star. It’s not a coincidence that so many celebrities have famous parents or grandparents. Their names get them a foot in the door.”

“I guess you’re right,” he says, even though a part of him wants to insist that he works hard too. Maybe his last name got a foot in the door, but Cas is the one who showed up and put in the work to prove himself. He has talent and that’s why he didn’t fade into obscurity once he grew up.

Dean walks into the tent then, immediately smiling in their direction, and Cas selfishly hopes it’s just for him.

“Hey,” Dean says, still smiling as he approaches.

“Dean, this is Anna,” Cas says. “Anna, this is Dean. He’s the new series regular.”

“We met earlier,” Dean says, shooting Anna a wink like a simple introduction is enough to warrant an inside joke. “Gabe abandoned her when he was called to wardrobe.”

“Yeah, and I recognized him from the show,” Anna says, her sole focus now on Dean. Cas has never seen her starstruck before, but she looks at Dean like she is.

“Oh,” Cas says. He hates that Dean’s not looking at him anymore. “Great.”

“Dean and I were thinking we could all go out while I’m here,” she says. “We could do a late birthday celebration for you.”

“Maybe,” Cas says. “I don’t really go out all that much.”

“Oh, we know, Cas,” Dean smirks at him. “One night won’t kill you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“I’m an actor. It’s one of my strengths,” Cas says. He picks up his coffee and takes a sip. “I need to get to hair and makeup.”

“Okay, well, it was nice seeing you again, Cas,” Anna says. She pulls him in for another quick hug. “Please come out with us.”

“I will,” Cas promises.

Just before he exits the tent, he turns around one last time to see Dean and Anna standing close together, like Cas had just been an interruption in their conversation despite Dean being the one who interrupted. He considers being extremely petty and telling Gabe that Dean seems to be making moves on Anna, but even Cas can admit that’s a little too pathetic even for him.

Anna doesn’t visit set again for the remainder of her trip. After the first day, she wanted to use her time to play tourist and explore the city. According to Gabe, she also claimed that being on set is boring as hell when you don’t have anything to do. Watching TV is fun, but even Cas can admit that watching the making of it leaves much to be desired.

“There’s nothing exciting about watching how the sausage gets made,” Gabe says, sitting in his director’s chair with a cup of orange Starbursts. It’s the only color he’ll eat, so craft services started leaving out a second dish of orange ones just for him.

“I think it’s exciting,” Dean says.

“You’re new. You don’t count,” Gabe tells him. “Anna used to think it was exciting. She loved visiting me on set when she was younger. Now that she’s ‘grown up’ she doesn’t really give a shit.” He uses air quotes and everything.

“My brother, Sam, keeps asking me to send pictures of everything,” Dean says. “I sent him a picture of all the cameras set up once and he thought it was the coolest thing ever.”

“You should have him visit,” Charlie says. “The excited ones are the best.”

“Maybe during his school vacation,” Dean says. “He’s a senior and Stanford is his top choice, so maybe if he tours there, he and my parents can swing by here.”

“That would be awesome,” Charlie says. “It’s so fun when people’s families come to set. Pamela in hair and makeup has a son, Jesse, and every time she brings him to set, he likes to show off magic tricks.”

“Oh, I need to see that immediately,” Dean laughs. “Sam was into magic for a little bit. He even auditioned for his fifth grade talent show.”

“Did he win?” Cas asks.

“He didn’t pass the audition.”

Gabe snorts and Dean steals a handful of his Starbursts.

“That’s cruel,” Charlie says. “Why even have talent show auditions for kids that young? I thought only child actors had to deal with audition rejection.”

“Nope, the world is looking to bring every kid down a peg or two,” Dean says.

“I’m told that when I was six months old, my parents brought me to a commercial audition and apparently one of the producers said they didn’t like my look,” Cas says. “True story, according to my mother. I don’t know what kind of look they were going for, but my parents said they ended up using a doll for the shoot rather than an actual baby anyway.”

Gabe and Charlie descend into laughter and Cas laughs with them. It fades quickly when he looks over to Dean, who’s smiling slightly, but not laughing. Cas tries to catch his eye, but Dean won’t let him, like he can’t even look at Cas in that moment. Cas tries going over what he could have said to make Dean react like that, but he comes up blank.

It takes a little more convincing, and the promise of at least one security detail joining the outing, for Cas to agree to a night out.

Their outing in New York was fun, if not a little overwhelming and heartbreaking, and their previous bar nights in Vancouver have been enjoyable. The only variable here is Anna.

Anna, a person who Cas genuinely likes and whose company he enjoys, but watching her and Dean flirt makes a tiny part of him want to die. He can only hope that with Gabe there, he won’t have to see Dean and Anna make out on any dance floor.

In fact, when Cas offers to choose the bar and deliberately picks one that doesn’t offer live music or dancing, he wonders if that is considered petty.

As Cas had hoped, a bar way on the edge of the city on a Sunday night isn’t super busy. There’s still a good amount of people milling about, but they don’t have any trouble finding a booth for the six of them.

Cas scans the room as the others look at the menu. The bar is slightly more upscale so they’re probably the youngest people here. There are a few groups of older looking adults scattered around and one group of thirty-something guys in business attire with backpacks on. One guy has his sleeves rolled up and Cas forces himself to look away so no one can catch him staring at a random guy’s forearms from across the room.

Dean’s sleeves are rolled up too, forearms on display for anyone to see. Anna sits next to him in the booth, their shoulders pressed together. She looks so tiny next to him, like she fits with him perfectly. Cas knows how intoxicating that feels. Dean’s taller than him too and any time they have a scene where they stand close together, Cas has to adjust his gaze up. He’s a professional who never forgets his lines, but those moments always make Cas’s mind go blank.

“What are you thinking, Anna?” Gabe asks.

“Oh, um, I’ll get whatever,” she says. “I kinda just drink anything.”

“Thanks. That’s exactly what an older brother wants to hear.”

Dean laughs, picking up the menu that’s sitting between them. “I’m getting this IPA from San Diego. You wanna try that? If you hate it, I’ll take full responsibility.”

“Okay,” she says, giggling slightly when Dean throws her another wink. It’s like he gives those away to just anybody.

Cas drums his fingers against the table, thankful the waitress comes around then as an interruption. He stays quiet after she leaves, preferring to sit back and watch the conversation happen around him rather than participate.

There’s a group of younger women sitting two booths down from them and Cas keeps accidentally making eye contact with one of them. She blushes and smiles every time they do. Cas spots her phone on the table next to her and he keeps wondering if she’s gonna try and snap a picture of them when they’re not looking. He kinda wishes public places would implement a no phones and no cameras policy. He thinks that would be the only way he could breathe easily in public.

There’s a pile of board games in the back of the bar and Charlie returns with Clue and a few different trivia games. They start with trivia and Cas relaxes as they play and drink, yet still not able to fully ignore the way Dean and Anna interact. He also can’t ignore the people around them. Having one of their security guys keep an eye on them from the bar helps his nerves, but he’s still on edge. Maybe he just needs another drink.

“Oh, I got a good one,” Rowena says as she picks up a new trivia card. “Who is the famous sitcom child actor who starred in the recent blockbuster hit Dream a Little Dream of Me about a twelve-year-old boy whose dreams come to life?”

Charlie slaps her hand down on the table, all but screaming, “Castiel Novak!”

“Winner!” Rowena laughs, tossing the card in her direction.

“When was this made?” Cas asks, grabbing the card from her. He looks down at the card, thumb running over where his name is printed.

“Man, I loved that movie when it came out,” Dean laughs, throwing an arm back against the booth. So close to Anna’s shoulders. “I dragged my mom to the movies three times to see that.”

“It was fun to shoot,” Cas says. “I don’t really remember most of it.”

“What do you mean you don’t remember?” Gabe asks. “That movie was iconic.”

“I don’t know. It was just another job,” he shrugs. “Tom Hanks was nice. He would help me with my math homework sometimes.”

“You have such a fucking weird life, dude,” Charlie laughs.

Cas laughs with her because that’s all he can do. He tries not to examine his life too closely, knowing how bizarre it is. He grew up thinking he was normal, thinking all kids worked, and then he realized he was one of a select few, that not many people lived a life like his. Lucky, everyone would call him.

These days, Cas doesn’t really know what to make of his life, so he just doesn’t really think about it. Even his friends don’t really get it. They all had a before in this life. Before acting, before fame. There was a moment in each of their lives when they looked at someone on screen or on stage and thought to themselves I want to do that. If Cas hadn’t grown up like this, would he…

He downs the rest of his beer, excusing himself from the table. He looks around the room again and sees how a few strangers’ eyes are still on him. He makes his way to the bathroom quickly, needing a second away from everyone around him. He needs to have no attention, no one looking at him. He needs to be alone.

He stares at himself in the mirror, leaning against the sink, taking in his appearance. He can recognize he’s a good looking person. He wonders what his team would have done if he wasn’t conventionally attractive. His mom must have really been betting on his grandfather’s genes, and it paid off considering Cas is the spitting image of his grandfather.

Not for the first time, he wonders what would happen if he changed his look overnight. Shaved his head or got a tattoo or something. His parents would have a heart attack, no doubt. Cas thinks he might look really cool with a tattoo.

There was a time when he was sixteen and dyed his hair pink with temporary hair dye he got from the drug store. A day before he was supposed to start shooting a movie.

His mom had flipped her shit, and then proceeded to hire an emergency stylist to wash out every last drop of pink from his hair.

Never in his life had he seen his mother so livid. She wouldn’t stop lecturing him the whole drive to the airport.

Then he boarded his plane and went off to shoot a movie and his parents never mentioned the hair dye incident again. If Cas hadn’t taken a picture of himself with his pink hair, he’d think he dreamed the whole thing up.

The bathroom door swings open and Cas jumps slightly before realizing it’s just Dean. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Dean nods at him. “Are you good?”

“Yes,” Cas says. “Just needed the bathroom.”

“You were taking a while.”

“I’ve had a lot to drink.”

“Right.”

A beat. Cas leans against one of the stalls. “Do you need to…?”

“Nah,” Dean waves him off. “Just wanted to make sure you weren’t dying in here. You seemed kinda off all night.”

“Oh,” Cas says. He looks down at his shoes. He’s not used to people noticing him like that. “Being in public sometimes makes me nervous.”

“Oh, you don’t say?” Dean chuckles, voice full of sarcasm.

“That obvious?”

“You’re like one of those jumpy little rescue dogs.”

“That’s one I’ve never heard before.”

“If you wanna get outta here, I can make up an excuse for you. Or I can leave with you and make it seem less weird.”

“I’m okay. Thank you, Dean.”

He’s never had someone offer to bail him out before. Dean’s giving him a lifeline and it’s making Cas realize how solitary most of his life has been. How long has he been a soldier in an army of one?

And then, because he can’t help but torture himself: “You and Anna seem to be clicking.”

“She’s cute and smart, but that’s kinda all there is.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I don’t want to make things weird with Gabe. And she’s leaving tomorrow. I hate the long-distance shit. I don’t think I’d be willing to do long-distance unless I was in love with the person.”

“Okay. Good.”

“Good?”

“Yeah, I mean, you don’t want to send her mixed signals. And it’s definitely better to stay on Gabe’s good side. She wouldn’t be ideal to hook up with.”

Dean smirks, grin cocky and shit-eating enough to already have Cas dying a tiny bit. “No, that’s not it. You just don’t want to share me.”

Cas does a full body eye roll. “That is absolutely not it.”

“You like having me all to yourself.”

“I actually don’t like you at all and I think you’re an enormous asshole.”

Dean’s laughter rings through his ears after Cas leaves the bathroom. He feels better, not even caring about who could be looking at him. None of that matters when he made Dean Winchester laugh a moment ago. No one can take that from him.

He heads back to the table in better spirits, ordering another round for everyone. He notes the surprised look Gabe gives him, but just shrugs it off like it’s an everyday occurrence. When Dean comes back from the bathroom, he slides back into the booth with a smile stuck on his face. Cas can’t look at him for too long, knowing he’ll just end up staring.

Cas stays out with them for longer than he originally planned. He thought he’d maybe have two drinks max, but now he’s on his fourth and barely thinking about the fact that they all have work tomorrow.

“My goal is to win a Tony,” Rowena says. “That’s when I’ll know I’ve made it.”

“I wanna be the star of one of those dystopian science fiction series,” Charlie says. “You know, the main character who’s special for some reason and is a total badass. That’s who I wanna be.”

“My goal is to be one of the late-night talk show hosts,” Gabe says. “I wanna stick with comedy. My manager tried talking me into drama, but that’s just not for me.”

“Wow, you guys all have such high ambitions,” Anna says. “I just hope I can land a job when I graduate.”

“You will,” Charlie says. “Maybe you’ll even become a famous journalist.”

“I don’t want to be a famous journalist.” She wrinkles her nose. “If I’m famous, I want it to be for my art.”

“That’s fair,” Dean says. “I don’t really have a life goal. I guess I just wanna keep acting. Become successful enough that my family never needs to worry about money and I can do whatever roles I wanna do.”

“I’d say you’re well on your way, Dean,” Rowena pats his arm. “What about you, Cas?”

Cas tilts his head. “Me?”

“What’s your life goal?” Charlie prompts.

Cas makes a big show of thinking about it. He’s done TV, film, a little bit of stage work, even less voiceover work, and the occasional modeling job here and there. He’s won awards and been nominated for even more. He’s worked with some of the biggest names in the business with multi-million dollar budgets. He’s done indie films that barely saw any success. He has a beautiful home in the Hollywood Hills that he rarely gets to live in along with a private property right on the California-Oregon border that he bought when he turned twenty. His parents and financial management team encouraged him to buy a second property, stating that the investment would be worth it.

He's only been to that house a handful of times, but he loves it up there. His home in LA is where he normally prefers to stay since his parents live just ten minutes away, but there’s nothing like waking up to views of the NorCal ocean. Maybe if he stops renting it out one day and has a break in between projects, he can spend some dedicated time there.

Cas has everything he could ever possibly want, and anything he doesn’t have, he could buy without a second thought. He’s already found more success in his career than most people see in a lifetime. It’s only his fault that he’s a miserable son of a bitch who can’t enjoy a good thing.

“My life goal,” Cas starts slowly, holding a straight face for the dramatics. Everyone’s eyes are on him. “Is to own a lighthouse on a remote coast in Maine. I’ll live at the top and spend my days reading old poetry and no one will be able to find me.”

The table is quiet and Gabe is the one to break first, laughing like Cas is at all joking. “Are you gonna join the Coast Guard?”

“He’s gonna keep an eye out for pirates,” Charlie quips.

“Now that’s an admirable goal,” Rowena says.

Cas laughs along with them, the alcohol in his system letting him see all this as funny rather than anything else. He’s drunk enough to think that living alone at the top of a lighthouse is a hilarious joke.

Dean must not be drunk enough because he’s not laughing, instead just staring down at his drink as he plays with his straw. Cas doesn’t focus on that, just listens to the conversation carrying on like he didn’t say anything at all.

They leave shortly after, Gabe citing that he and Anna need to wake up early tomorrow for her flight. The good part of insisting that security joins their outing is they have an automatic designated driver. Cas is glad because he doesn’t think he has enough wits about him to call a cab.

Everyone else steps outside as Cas settles the tab, surprised to find Dean lurking behind him once he’s finished.

“I can pay you back in cash tomorrow,” Dean says.

Cas waves him off. “Don’t worry about it. We all take turns covering the tab.”

“I haven’t yet.”

“Then you can pick it up next time. Either way, don’t worry about it.”

“Okay,” Dean says. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” A moment passes. “Did you have fun tonight?”

“I did,” Dean says. “Did you?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’m glad we got you to come out.”

“Me too,” Cas says. He gestures to the door. “Shall we?”

They walk outside and are the last two to pile into the van. Dean ends up in the middle while Cas is squished against the door. He relaxes on the drive as they get dropped off one by one, drunk enough to allow himself to lean into Dean the whole way home.

Chapter Text

Cas wakes up on a random day in October with dread sinking in his stomach and his heart beating hard enough to crack open his chest. He immediately knows what’s going on.

It happens on occasion where he wakes up with his pulse racing like he just ran a marathon and feeling like he’ll never be able to breathe correctly ever again. It’s not a frequent occurrence, but this nervous energy hits him often enough that he knows how to handle it.

Well, he doesn’t really know exactly how to handle it because the feelings never go away despite all his attempts. He can’t get enough oxygen into his lungs no matter how hard he tries. But he has certain routines he goes through whenever his restless nerves refuse to settle.

The sun hasn’t even risen yet and Cas is already lacing up his sneakers. He leaves his apartment and takes the elevator down to the basement, swiping into his building’s old gym. When he came back to live in this building after the first season, he discovered they redid the gym and moved it to the top floor of the building. Cas’s favorite doorman told him that the old gym in the basement is still functional even though hardly anyone utilizes it.

But today is a day that Cas cannot risk being recognized. He already knows work is going to be exhausting later. He doesn’t even want to think about having to perform before he steps onto set.

It would be nice to exercise somewhere other than a stale basement, maybe run through the park near his building and get some fresh air, but he can’t risk it. It’s barely past five, but who knows how many people are already outside? The reward isn’t worth it, so Cas runs in the basement.

He has a favorite treadmill and a trusty playlist that can mostly drown out the beating of his own heart. It’s full of old rock songs from the ‘70s and ‘80s, the exact stuff Scout is supposed to be a fan of. Cas is more into pop music, usually preferring Taylor Swift or Lady Gaga. But on days like today, he needs to listen to something loud.

He’s normally not a big runner. He has an exercise routine that he sticks to, but generally prefers to go on a walk instead of a run. However, when he gets like this, he knows he needs a way to burn off all the excess nervous energy quickly, and running is the best way to do so.

Today, he gets through half his playlist and would keep going if he didn’t have to start getting ready for work. He wonders if it would be crazy of him to run the thirteen flights up to his floor instead of taking the elevator, just to try burning off a few more nerves.

Maybe if he had enough time, he would do that. Sometimes he thinks the extra nervous energy scrambles up his brain and makes him genuinely insane. Maybe he’s just another crazy celebrity who’s going to do something scandalous and then fade into obscurity and then in thirty years he’ll overhear a conversation about himself. “Whatever happened to Castiel Novak?” they’ll ask their friends. And then he’ll die and his life will just be an insignificant blip in the universe’s history.

In the shower, he scrubs his skin until it turns red. In the kitchen, he stares at the food in his fridge and wants to throw up at the idea of eating anything. He turns the sink on and drinks straight from the tap because it’s the only rebellious thing his mother allows him to do.

“Honestly, Castiel,” she had said once when he was thirteen and gulping down kitchen sink water straight from the tap. “I raised you with better manners than this.”

He smiled as he stood up and made a show of wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “It tastes better not in a glass.”

She just sighed and shook her head as he laughed as he bounded out of the kitchen, giddy over doing something bad. His only bad habit that she let him keep. Actual rebellion, hair dye-level rebellion, is not allowed. Private, harmless rebellion? Well, if his small-scale rebelling only annoys Naomi Novak then that’s okay because the rest of the world can’t see.

He keeps his headphones in when he gets picked up and his eyes shut during the drive to set. He’s not sure he has enough air in his lungs to form actual words. He might just cry if he tries saying anything.

It’s a shoot day, and a big one at that. Cas has read the call sheet several times over by the time he gets to his trailer. Of course it’s a day where it’s majority him and Dean. At least that means Gabe, Rowena, and Charlie won’t be around to see what a mess he is today. They’ve seen him in a bad state before, and can usually tell when he’s feeling off and just leave him be. He hopes Dean can follow that same lead.

His headphones stay in as he utilizes one of his other trusty distractions: TV and drawing. He can’t draw for shit, but he finds it relaxing to put on an old episode of Friends and try to color in an entire piece of paper with a marker. The canned laughter and predictable jokes are good background noise. Cas was never in Friends, though he did audition for a few child guest star spots here and there. He’s glad he never got them. Otherwise, he’d have to find a different comfort sitcom.

He tries braiding a friendship bracelet for a few minutes. He paces the length of his trailer a good thirty times. He wrings his hands together and claws at his chest as he stares at the TV and tries to fucking breathe.

Realistically, he knows he’s safe. He’s not in any danger. So why the hell does he feel like he’s about to drop dead at any second?

A knock at his trailer door. He doesn’t bother throwing on a smile when the third AD is there and telling him he needs to report to hair and makeup in five. He can’t speak so he just gives her a thumbs up.

In hair and makeup, a PA offers to grab him a coffee and he just shakes his head. When he’s like this, caffeine only makes him worse. He just sits in the chair and smiles politely at Pamela as she gets him ready for the camera.

He doesn’t want to stare at his reflection in the mirror so he keeps his eyes on the polaroids decorating the surrounding walls. Countless photos of Cas and the rest of the cast from the past few seasons, usually acting goofy. There are already several photos of Dean present and Cas keeps his eyes locked on those like a lifeline.

Once he’s done in hair and makeup, he heads to set, headphones firmly in place as he scrolls through his phone. He pretends he’s typing out something important instead of just smashing random letters on the keyboard. As much as he loves his fellow castmates, he can’t talk to them right now. He can’t even look at them when he’s like this.

Shooting sucks, as Cas anticipated. He’s off his game, which throws Dean off too, and Marv is getting frustrated with both of them. Cas can appreciate that he’s a genuinely good director and knows what he’s doing most of the time, but there are also moments where he gives direction that is so subjective Cas regrets ever agreeing to be on this show.

“Cut!” Marv calls, standing up from his chair and sauntering onto the motel set. He stands in front of Cas who is sitting on the bed. “This isn’t working.”

Cas stays silent, staring up at him.

“It’s the way you’re sitting. It’s a little…”

“What?”

“It’s a little gay,” Marv says.

“How is sitting on a bed gay?” Cas asks. He glances over at Dean who’s sitting on the opposite bed.

“It’s the way you’re sitting,” Marv tells him. “Can you just…” He trails off, waving a hand in Cas’s direction.

Cas feels his face heat up, glancing toward some of the crew members who are snickering. These are people he considers friends on a good day, but today’s a bad day and right now he feels like the butt of every joke.

Marv takes his place back behind the camera. Cas lets his head hang as he tries to get it screwed on straight.

“Hey,” Dean whispers. “I thought you were doing good.”

“Thanks,” Cas mumbles. It’s the first thing he’s said to Dean all day as Cas instead of Scout.

“Seriously,” Dean doubles down. “I didn’t think you looked gay. You’re just sitting on a bed.”

“Well, Marv clearly saw something.”

“Action!”

And just like that, he’s Scout again. They get through the next few lines uninterrupted, but Cas doesn’t feel good about it. He doesn’t feel like Scout, doesn’t feel like anything he’s saying is authentic. The thing about acting is that it’s all fake, but the only way it’s convincing is if you believe it’s real. The only way the audience will believe it is if the actor believes it. Good actors can’t half-ass anything, otherwise people won’t believe them. Good actors flesh out the character and the world and the backstory. Cas is a good actor because there’s none of him in Scout. He concocted a whole childhood, a whole life for Scout. Marv created the character, but Cas knows who he truly is.

He's not Scout right now. He’s saying Scout’s words, repeating them verbatim, but he doesn’t believe them because his head is stuck as Castiel. Marv calls cut again and Cas wonders if they can’t just take a break.

“Cas, a little more emotion please!” Marv calls from where he’s seated. “Scout’s supposed to be giving Finn a pep talk. Your tone is completely off.”

“Noted,” Cas says. He goes to run a hand through his hair and then stops himself when he remembers that would just cause Pamela to run on set and fix him up.

“Are you okay?” Dean asks. “You seem off.”

“I’m fine.”

“Really? Because you seem kinda distracted.”

“Action!”

They pick up from Cas’s last line. He gets through it easily enough now that he’s said it so many times. As he sits there and listens to Dean speak, he feels the energy inside of him shift. The nerves bubble up to the surface and he can physically feel his heart start to beat faster and faster. He’s sure the microphone can pick up on how loud his heart is racing. He tries to control his breathing, silently cursing himself when the tiniest breath of hysterical laughter escapes. Dean’s eyes narrow, but he finishes his lines as scripted, patiently waiting for Cas to start speaking.

Cas can’t talk. He tries giving himself a moment to gain his composure, and even though he knows exactly what comes next in the script, he physically can’t get the words out. If he opens his mouth, he’s just going to laugh or cry or hyperventilate. He tries inhaling a deep breath, but it’s like his lungs have stopped working too. He feels his body shutting down.

He claws at his chest, right over his heart, looking around the room and spotting people’s faces going from annoyed to confused to concerned.

Dean reaches a hand out. “Cas?”

Cas tugs at the neckline of his shirt, feeling constricted, feeling like he’s being choked. He holds the base of his throat, trying to swallow. “I can’t fucking breathe.”

Dean’s the one to yell cut and Cas wants to panic over Dean getting in trouble for it, but all he can focus on is his heart. He slips a hand under his shirt and places it directly on his chest, feeling how his heart is jackhammering away. He drops his head to his hands as he gives over to the hyperventilating, wanting more than anything to get the air back into his lungs.

He's dying he’s dying he’s dying his heart is giving out he’s having a heart attack he’s going to die on camera and no one even cares.

He can hear people speaking and moving around him, but the thing that pulls him back to earth is the touch on his thighs. When he looks up, he sees Dean kneeling in front of him, hands on him.

“Cas, I’m here. You’re okay.”

“No. No,” Cas shakes his head. “I can’t breathe.”

“Yes, you can. You’re okay. Breathe with me.”

Cas keeps losing focus, but Dean just taps his leg to pull him back. Cas copies Dean as he inhales and exhales. It takes a few rounds, but he eventually gets to a place where he no longer feels like he’s about to drop dead.

Someone hands him a water bottle and he doesn’t even realize he’s shaking until he grabs it. He doesn’t realize how thirsty he is either until he takes a sip and ends up gulping down half of it. He sighs as he sets the water bottle down, wiping his face of tears and makeup. He’s sure he looks like a mess.

“Cas?” Marv is standing in front of him with the set medic. “Let’s get you to your trailer so Maggie can take a look at you.”

Cas nods, letting Dean help him stand on shaky feet. He feels like a kid, like one of those difficult actors who don’t bother learning their lines and treat everyone on set like they’re garbage. Cas hates to step out of line at all. He wonders how much money this little stunt is gonna cost the studio. They’re definitely hitting overtime today.

In his trailer, Dean and Marv stand off to the side as Maggie checks his vitals. In Cas’s opinion, the whole thing feels a bit dramatic now that it’s over. Even though in the moment, he was convinced he was having a heart attack and about to die. Now he feels exhausted enough to sleep for three years.

That’s another coping mechanism Cas has used to deal with these restless nerves. Sometimes he knows he just has to let himself cry it out. But he’s never broken down like that on set before. He’s kind of embarrassed.

“Alright, well, good news is you’re perfectly healthy,” Maggie says. “You had a panic attack.”

Cas blinks at her. “That can’t be it. I think there’s something wrong with my heart. It was beating way too fast to be normal.”

“That’s a common symptom in panic attacks.”

“No, I really think I have a heart problem.”

“Do you have a history of anxiety?”

“I mean, I get nervous sometimes,” Cas mumbles, looking away. It’s one of the few things he’s never admitted to another person before.

“Have you ever been diagnosed with anxiety?”

“No.” He looks her right in the eyes. “I don’t have anxiety. I don’t get panic attacks. I don’t know why that happened. I could have sworn it was a heart attack.”

“Listen,” Maggie says. “I have some resources regarding anxiety and depression. Therapists, psychologists. I can provide you with all that information. Everything is discreet.”

Cas doesn’t see the point in arguing so he just nods.

“Great,” Maggie says. She looks over at Marv. “Is there any way we can give him the rest of the day? I think he could really use it.”

“We’ll see,” Marv says. “Thank you, Maggie.”

She hesitates before leaving, and then she’s gone. Cas is happy to see her go, no longer feeling like he’s as much under a microscope.

“How are you feeling?” Marv asks.

“Fine,” Cas says. “Embarrassed. I’m sorry for causing a scene and ruining the schedule.”

“Don’t worry about it, Castiel. I’m just glad you’re feeling okay.”

Cas nods, staring down at his hands. He spots the scar he got during one of Dean’s first few days on set and traces it.

“Why don’t you two take lunch?” Marv says. “I’ll grab you both some food so you don’t have to leave. Any requests?”

“My usual sandwich, I guess,” Cas says. He hasn’t eaten all day, but he’s still not very hungry.

“Same as him. And some sour gummy worms,” Dean says.

“You got it,” Marv says. “Cas, if you want to go home after, we should be able to make that work.”

“No,” Cas shakes his head. “Thank you, but I’m fine. I know we need to get these shots.”

Marv smiles, teeth and all. “The show must go on.”

He lets the door slam when he leaves. Now that Cas is alone with Dean, he can breathe a little easier.

“Scale of one to ten, how bad was that?” Cas asks.

Dean frowns. “I feel like I should be asking you that.”

“Ten. Extremely embarrassing.”

“I mean, how are you really feeling?” Dean asks. “You have no reason to be embarrassed.”

“I just stopped production because I thought I was having a heart attack. It’s pretty embarrassing.”

“Does this kind of thing happen a lot?”

“I feel pretty restless a lot of the time,” Cas admits. “Sometimes I just have all this nervous energy and nowhere for it to go. I don’t really do that though. At least not on set.”

“So it’s happened before?”

Cas goes quiet, looking away from Dean. No way is he admitting how often he breaks down crying because he can’t quell the nerves pinging around in his chest.

“You know, my brother has anxiety,” Dean says. “Diagnosed and everything. Generalized anxiety disorder.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. He’s a great kid. He just needs medication to help him get through the day.”

“Does he get panic attacks?”

“He used to sometimes. I learned how to help him through them. It’s like he needs a reminder on how to breathe.”

“Yeah, well, speaking from experience, it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room.” Cas finally looks back at him again. “I don’t have an anxiety disorder.”

“I’m not saying you do,” Dean says. He looks like he genuinely believes Cas, and it’s nice that one of them believes it. “I’m just saying I’m here for you if you need anything or if you ever wanna talk.”

“Thank you, Dean. I really appreciate that.”

“Of course, man.” A moment passes. “Do you talk to your parents about this stuff?”

Cas actually laughs at that. If he ever initiates a conversation with his parents about his feelings, it means the world is ending. Cas can’t even remember the last time he had a conversation with them for longer than ten minutes that wasn’t centered around work.

“Don’t tell me you tell your parents everything,” Cas says.

“Not even close,” Dean says. “But I’m still able to talk to them. They’re my parents. I wouldn’t have been able to come out to them if I didn’t trust them.”

“Oh,” Cas says. “Good. That makes me happy to hear.”

“Can I ask-”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Cas says. He doesn’t even know what the question is, but he knows he’s done talking about his parents. “You mentioned Meg once,” he says. “I don’t know how much you know about her from the media, but did you know she died of a heart attack?”

“I did know that,” Dean says. He speaks slowly, words heavy as they fall from his mouth.

“I mean, obviously it was the drugs that caused the heart attack,” Cas says. “No sixteen-year-old girl just has a heart attack. But even so, every time my heart beats a little too fast, I’m convinced I’m having one myself.”

“It must be really difficult to live with that, to go through that kinda grief.”

“I screamed when I got the news,” Cas says. It wasn’t even that long ago, but it feels like a past life, or like another role he played. “I tried so hard to help her and it wasn’t enough.”

“You were a kid, Cas,” Dean says. He sits next to him on the couch, placing a hand on his back. “I’m sure you did everything you could.”

“I really, really tried,” he says, as if Dean won’t believe him. “She was my best friend and I watched this life destroy her.”

“Tell me about her,” Dean says. “What’s your favorite memory of her?”

“God, where do I start?” Cas laughs to himself, shuffling through their memories in his head like a deck of cards. “We were barely five when we met and we became close right away. There weren’t any other kids our age on set regularly so we stuck together all the time. Even outside of set, we’d spend the night at each other’s house or have playdates together. We liked to pretend we really were twins.

“There was one time we snuck into the hair and makeup trailer and stole a giant tub of cotton balls. We snuck up to the catwalk and started throwing them all over the set. We pretended it was snowing.” Dean laughs when he does. “My parents, Meg’s parents, and a bunch of producers all took turns yelling at us. I thought for sure we’d be fired.

“I had my first kiss on that show when I was thirteen. I was freaking out over it, worrying about it the entire week of shooting. I think Meg was sick of listening to me panic over it because at one point she just leaned over and kissed me completely out of the blue. Now that I think about it, maybe she was just trying to get me to stop talking. Either way she said, ‘There’s your first kiss. Now you can stop worrying about it.’”

“That’s sweet of her,” Dean smiles. “But you two weren’t a thing at all?”

“No,” Cas says. “We never had any sort of romantic feelings for each other. She really was like my sister.”

“She sounds like she was a great person,” Dean says. “I’m really sorry she’s gone.”

“Yeah,” Cas smiles bitterly. “Me too.”

Marv comes back to the trailer then, food in one hand and a folder in the other. He sets the food down on the small table and hands Cas the folder.

“Maggie printed out some information for you,” Marv says. “I strongly encourage you to look into some of those mental health services.”

“Thank you,” Cas says. He’s certain this folder will just end up collecting dust at the bottom of his desk. “I’m sorry again for my behavior today. I’ll be ready to go again after lunch.”

“Alright, good,” Marv says. He hesitates before leaving. “Please consider looking into those services,” he says. “Halting production like this cannot become a regular occurrence.”

“Of course,” Cas says. “I understand.”

“Good. See you both on set in one hour.”

Chapter Text

“Alright, next topic.” His mom doesn’t look into the camera as she speaks, typing on her computer instead. His dad leans back in his seat as he scrolls on his phone. “Cas, did you have a chance to read the script for Hester’s filmz yet?”

“I got through the first act,” Cas says. “It’s good so far.”

“It’s been weeks and you’re only through the first act?”

“We’ve had some long days,” Cas says, deliberately not mentioning that he was the direct cause of one of those long days. His parents don’t need to know he had a panic attack on set. It’s embarrassing enough that everyone else knows about it. He just hopes Marv didn’t tell them already.

“Okay, well, please make sure you’ve read through the whole thing before the call with the producers at the end of the week. They’re going to ask for your opinion.”

“Should I tell them my opinion?”

“If it’s positive, go right ahead.”

“Noted.”

“How’s season four coming along?” Dad asks, eyes still on his phone.

“Really good. Better than last season, I think,” Cas says. “We’re getting into some heavier storylines.”

“That’s good,” Mom says. “If we play our cards right, I don’t think you’ll ever have to go out for a high school role ever again.”

“I like the sound of that,” Cas says. “Something else interesting is happening,” he says. “Gabe is going to direct an episode later in the season.”

That gets his parents’ attention. “No kidding,” Dad says. “Good for Gabe.”

“I didn’t realize he was in the Directors Guild,” Mom says. “What else has he directed?”

“This would be his first gig,” Cas says. “He’s shadowed Marv for a couple weeks now.”

“That’s exciting,” Mom says, face straight and serious.

“Yeah,” Cas says. He plays with his pen to keep his fingers busy. “I was thinking maybe I could do something like that too. Direct, maybe. Or something else behind the scenes.”

“Why would you want to be behind the scenes?” Mom asks. She looks genuinely confused. “Do you know how many people would kill to be in your position?”

“I know,” Cas says. He tries to keep the exasperation out of his tone. Sometimes he feels like his whole life is just people telling him he should be grateful for something he never asked for. “But you guys are always telling me I should broaden my horizons.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to have another thing to add to his resume,” Dad says.

“And pay all those union dues just for him to direct one episode? It’s not worth it.”

“Maybe it would establish him as a director,” Dad says. “All the big stars step into directing eventually. This would be a good jumping off point. Plus, Marv would be there to catch him if he falls.”

Cas sits there, listening to them debate about his life like he isn’t still on the call. His fate is in their hands and he wonders when his mom got the last word on his life.

“I’ll think about it,” Mom says. “I don’t want anything taking away from his acting.”

“It won’t,” Cas insists. “Acting is still my top priority.”

“As it should be,” Mom nods in approval. “Maybe we can get executive producer credits for him during the next round of negotiations. Does that sound appealing to you, Cas?”

“Sure,” he says, even though it’s a poorly kept secret that the credit is pretty meaningless when given to actors. He can’t imagine a world where Marv takes his ideas into account just because he has a fancy new title in his contract.

“Great,” Mom says. “Anything else you want to run by us?”

“I think that’s all,” Cas says. “The network is throwing a Halloween party this weekend.”

He stays quiet about his growing desire to become a writer. He has a handful of ideas for original screenplays, and even an idea for an episode of On the Road. He hasn’t written anything down, almost too scared to start, but he’s been privately debating if he should pitch it to Marv or not. Maybe that executive producer credit will come in handy.

“Well, that’ll be fun,” Dad says. “Are you dressing up?”

“No.” He puts on a costume every single day. He rarely gets a full twenty-four hours where he’s just himself.

“I was Noah one year,” Dad says. At Cas’s blank face, he says, “Like Noah’s Ark. This was before I met your mom. I was the only single guy in my fraternity so I was Noah, and all my buddies and their girlfriends dressed up as my animals. We were the hit of the weekend.”

“I cannot picture that,” Cas says.

“We have the photos somewhere in the attic,” Mom says. “If that’s all, we really should be going.”

“Of course,” Cas nods. “Have a good week.”

“You too, Cas.”

“Call if you need anything,” Dad says.

The call disconnects before another word can be said. Cas stares at the picture of his parents on his desk, allowing himself time to just look at them. He kinda misses them, kinda doesn’t, kinda misses being in LA more. They have four days off in a row for Thanksgiving next month. Maybe he can fly home for that time. It’d be quick, but he’d give anything to see a palm tree right now.

Cas isn’t blind to how much money networks have. It’s more than he can conceptualize, and it all comes from advertising, investors, and shareholders. It also comes from him too. He makes the network money. His face has a price tag.

The first time Cas realized he was for sale, he was eight years old and in New York on a press circuit. It coincided with the network’s grand opening of a gift shop where the public could buy merchandise to represent their favorite show. There was a whole corner of the store dedicated to merch for Chicagoland, including shirts that featured each individual cast member.

Most of the shirts with him on them were already gone, and some executive in a suit clapped him on the shoulder and told him how popular he is, how much people love him.

He was told to be happy about it, but he could never quite get there, never fully able to truly convince himself that this was a good thing. That night, he laid in bed and wondered what kind of people bought his shirt. Who is walking around wearing his face? What would they do if he got in an accident and ended up with a big scar on his face? Would people still wear him on a shirt if he had a scar? Cas wonders where those shirts are these days, if they’re just at the bottom of someone’s dresser or being sold for a dollar at a thrift store or wasting away at the dump.

Over the years, Cas learned to put those thoughts away. It’s in every contract he signs that the network can use his likeness to promote the project in any way they choose. He’s been featured on countless kinds of merchandise by now. He owns some of it. Networks love to gift actors bobbleheads of themselves. Most of it is in a storage unit in Studio City or his parents’ attic.

So when networks throw extravagant parties and spend tens of thousands of dollars on just the venue alone, Cas tells himself to enjoy it. His face helped pay for part of this. He deserves it.

Now that he’s an adult and now that his parents don’t accompany him to these types of parties, Cas actually finds them somewhat enjoyable. The anticipation leading up to the party always makes him nervous, but even he can admit they usually end up being a good time.

Outside of Meg, Cas has never had castmates that he’s grown so close to. He used to roll his eyes when producers would call their show a family, but every time Marv says it, Cas just feels proud. He loves this cast, loves this crew, loves this show, and is happy whenever he gets to celebrate with them.

He ropes Charlie into meeting up before the party, never not nervous to enter a party alone. Charlie makes sure they arrive fashionably late, leading them straight to the bar and ordering them their character drinks. The featured cocktails at each party are always named after the main characters. Cas has to wonder who comes up with the menu when his drink is always the fruitiest, most brightly colored cocktail of the evening. At this party, there’s a flower sticking out of his bright blue drink named The Boy Scout. Compared to Dean’s drink, which is named All Walks of Life and is a deep green with black salt around the rim.

“I’ve never had a drink named after me,” Dean says, already on his second.

“Technically, it’s named after Finn,” Gabe points out. His drink, which is essentially just an espresso martini, is named Never Grow Up.

“At my prom, they had virgin cocktails all named after teachers. The teacher with the most popular drink got to pie the principal on the last day of school,” Dean says.

“What the hell?” Charlie laughs.

“Small town Kansas,” Dean says. “Bet you don’t get that in Hollywood.”

“I was homeschooled so I wouldn’t know,” Charlie says.

“Same here,” Cas says.

“You people are freaks,” Dean tells them.

“I went to a performing arts high school,” Gabe says. “There lie the real freaks.”

“Speaking from experience?” Dean quips.

“I hate to tell you this, Dean, but I’m the most normal person you’ll meet in this business.”

“Who’s crazier?” Dean asks. “Actors or singers?”

“Actors,” Cas says in an instant. “No doubt.”

“Singers turned actors are pretty well adjusted. Maybe a little fucked in the head,” Gabe says. “Actors turned singers are nuts. Actors turned directors or writers are the smart ones.”

“I think I’ll stick with just acting for now,” Dean says. “I’m still starting out.”

“Good plan. Directing is actually more involved than you think.”

“Do you like it so far?” Charlie asks.

“It’s different,” Gabe says. “I know directors make a lot of decisions, but you don’t really realize until you shadow one. Props was asking Marv what kind of pen should be in a phone booth for one episode. I think that phone booth had less than a minute of screen time. You couldn’t even see the pen.”

“Wow,” Charlie says. “Detail oriented.”

“That’s what makes good TV,” Cas says. “The details.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Gabe nods at him. “Have you considered getting into directing? I think you’d be good at it.”

“I haven’t really thought about it,” Cas lies. “I’d rather just focus on acting.”

“Let me know if you change your mind, kid,” Gabe says. “I’ve got some tricks up my sleeve.”

The worst aspect of these parties is the networking. When Cas was still underage and his parents accompanied him to these parties, he was expected to be on his best behavior. The evening was not for enjoyment. His parents saw these parties as opportunities to schmooze with network executives. Cas supposes there is some value in networking considering he did end up the lead in a show. But he likes to think that had more to do with his talent.

Now that he attends these parties as a lone adult, no one whispering in his ear about keeping up appearances, he has to remind himself to network. It’s not too difficult considering the suits seemingly enjoy talking to him.

He also has to remind himself to not take full advantage of the open bar.

He’s scandal-free and does whatever he’s told without question. Of course the suits love him. Not that he ever interacts with them outside of parties and premieres.

Even at a party, these people are still dressed like they have a funeral to attend later. It’s only a few lower executives this time around. The higher level C-suites might fly out for the holiday and wrap parties, but even having Dumah and Bartholomew in attendance is somewhat of a big deal. Cas doesn’t exactly know what their titles are, but he does know they wield plenty of power.

Marv pulls him into a conversation with them, which Cas conducts with polite smiles and laughter, exactly as he was taught. The way he behaves is a reflection on his parents, his mom once said. He’s representing everything his grandfather built under the Novak name. Cas operates under the assumption that everything he says and does will eventually find its way back to his parents.

“I always have a dozen ideas on deck,” Marv says. “At least three ready to be pitched when the right ears are listening.”

“You hear that, Castiel?” Bartholomew smiles, eyes not leaving Marv’s. “A man learns to write because he likes the sound of his own voice.”

“A man learns to write because he has stories to tell,” Marv says.

“So why do others turn to acting?” Bartholomew asks, nodding to Cas. “Do they have no stories to tell?”

“I find that some actors find satisfaction in bringing another person’s story to life,” Dumah says. “Sometimes actors don’t know who they are and choose to get lost in a character.”

“Yes, I am familiar with method acting,” Bartholomew says. “Do you have a story to tell, Castiel?”

“I’m happy telling Scout’s story,” Cas says. “That’s what the show is about.”

Bartholomew doesn’t say anything, just stares him down and smiles wider. He points a finger at him. “There’s a story in there somewhere. I’m sure of it.”

“I don’t know how interesting that would be,” Cas lies. He knows his life is objectively interesting, especially to people outside of the industry. But it’s not for public consumption. He’s already given away enough pieces of himself.

“Don’t write yourself off too quickly,” Bartholomew says. “If you’re ever interested in starring in a documentary about your own life, let me know. I personally know some producers who would be hard pressed to say no.”

“I’ll let you know. Thank you,” Cas says. He glances off to the side, noting how a few of the cast and crew members are laughing on the other side of the room. He doesn’t care if it’s unprofessional. He’d rather be talking with them. “Excuse me.”

They say their goodbyes as he turns away, and he can only breathe again now that he’s by himself and not being talked into selling his life story. There’s no way in hell he’s telling his parents about this conversation, knowing it would end with a documentary being made. It’s one thing to have little control over his own life, but it’s another to make a documentary blasting all of himself to the world.

He hasn’t done anything significant anyway. He just acts. It doesn’t matter. He’s not changing lives. What the hell would the documentary even say? What would be the angle? Celebrity documentaries always have a story they hinge on, and Cas knows nothing he wants to say would be allowed in the documentary. He lives a life of privilege.

For the briefest of moments, Cas thinks about how rewarding it would be to make a documentary about Michael, telling the full story. He’s not sure if anyone would believe him, and he doesn’t even want that experience to be public knowledge, but he does think it would be a weight off his chest to share that story. Even if only one person hears it.

Cas swings by the bar for another drink. Anything to flush away the thoughts of Michael. It’s crazy how much real estate the guy still owns in his mind.

He orders Rowena’s specialty drink this time, The Margorita, and tries not to feel awkward as he goes to join his friends. He slides onto the open spot on the couch next to Rowena and tries not to feel like an intrusion.

There are a couple girls on the opposite couch, laughing and leaning into each other. One of the girls keeps looking at him, and then looks away while her friend squeezes her arm and whispers in her ear. Cas tries to keep his gaze averted. He supposes she’s pretty if he really thinks about it. Dark hair, bright eyes. Cas thinks they could play a convincing pair of siblings.

Dean saunters over to him and squeezes himself next to Cas on the couch before Cas can even think to protest. He glares when part of Dean’s drink splashes on his shoes.

“Oops,” Dean laughs. “If those shoes are more than forty bucks, I’m not offering to replace them.”

“It’s fine,” Cas says. “I’m not attached to them.”

“Good. Are you enjoying the party?”

“It’s fun.”

“Come on, dude, I’ve seen you party harder than this.”

“Yes, when Marv and other network execs aren’t around.”

“Boo,” Charlie chimes in from his other side. “Live a little, Cas.”

“This is all you’re getting,” Cas tells them. “It might be the most I’ve ever let loose at one of these parties.”

“Oh, man.” Dean swings an arm around his neck, pulling him close. “I have so much to teach you.”

“I’m good.”

Dean turns to the girls sitting across from them, arm still around Cas’s neck. “You guys know Cas?”

The girls laugh. The one who hasn’t been staring Cas down for the past ten minutes rolls her eyes. “Publicity interns, Dean. We know everyone.”

“Right,” Dean nods. He looks back at Cas, their faces extremely close. “We’ve been chatting for a while. They’re interns. Can you believe that? Doing all the grunt work for free.”

“Actually, we make eight dollars an hour and we get college credit.”

“That’s Cassie,” Dean tells him. “Isn’t that funny? Your names are almost the same.”

“Funny,” Cas says. He doesn’t like how Dean and his name doppelganger are looking at each other.

“I’m Hael,” the other girl who’s been staring at him says. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Would you girls like another drink?” Dean asks them.

They laugh and nod, and Cassie blushes when Dean winks at her. Hael looks at Cas like she’s hoping he’ll wink at her too. Cas traces the rim of his glass, and considers cutting his losses and going home now. A part of him thinks if he stays much longer, his heart is gonna get a little broken.

Dean leads Cas over to the bar. Cas’s drink is still nearly full so he doesn’t order anything, letting Dean be the one to order three new drinks. Two of Dean’s and one of Cas’s own.

“I’ve been an actor for five minutes, but I swear it’s never been easier to pick someone up,” Dean tells him. “Especially when you’re at a party with a drink named after you. That’s, like, a built-in pickup line.”

“I never really thought of it like that.”

“Like I said before, good thing you’ve got me to guide you.” Dean pushes Cas’s drink toward him. “Do you like Hael?”

“I don’t know her.”

“Okay, easier question. Do you think she’s cute?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“You guess?”

Cas shrugs.

“She’s cute,” Dean declares like it’s a fact. “Brown hair and blue eyes are a killer combo.”

Cas blushes, looking across the room to the girls who are still laughing together. “Do you like Cassie?”

Dean ducks his head, smiling as he nods. Cas didn’t realize Dean liking some girl would be a thousand times more painful than watching him make out with a random girl.

“We were chatting for a bit,” Dean says. “She’s so smart. Way too good for me and there’s no way I can keep up with her, but she seems to like talking to me so…”

“Good. That’s good. I’m happy for you.”

“And she was telling me that Hael is single and looking for someone to make her forget her last boyfriend.”

“So she’s looking for a rebound?”

“Are you too good to be somebody’s rebound?”

“I don’t care about that. I’ve been the rebound.”

Dean makes a show of slapping the bar, audibly gasping, and dramatically resting his chin on his hand. “Sounds like there’s a story there.”

“There is,” Cas says simply, but even though he’s grown comfortable around Dean and considers them friends, he’s not going to spill the details of his tragic romantic life. At least not right now. He sips his drink. He doesn’t know how to break it to Dean that no matter what happens tonight, he’s planning on going home alone. “I don’t think hooking up with someone working for the network is a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Won’t that seem like sleeping your way to the top?”

“She’s just an intern, Cas. They don’t even have pull in the mail room.”

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” he says. “Do with that what you will, but I’m not going home with Hael.”

“Come on, man, it won’t kill you to at least entertain her.”

“Fine.”

They head back over with their drinks and Cas does the thing he does best.

He acts.

Hael ends up excusing herself eventually, after it’s clear that Cas isn’t receptive to any of her passes. She touches his forearm and bumps their shoulders together and drops hints that she’s free this weekend and Cas…

He interacts with her politely, but his attention keeps going back to Dean and Cassie, who now seem to be lost in their own little world as they talk the night away. Cas doesn’t mourn the loss of Hael, choosing instead to plant himself in Rowena and Charlie’s conversation. It’s much easier to keep an eye on Dean when he’s a passive participant in a conversation rather than an active member. Charlie and Rowena don’t seem to mind that he keeps quiet.

Dean reaches over to brush some of Cassie’s hair out of her face and that’s about all Cas can handle. He excuses himself from Charlie and Rowena, going outside and leaving the party entirely. He just needs some air.

He could probably get away with leaving at this point. Go back inside, thank the executives for showing their faces in Vancouver, kindly request that they bring their interns back to LA and never return, and then make a graceful exit. Garth already told him he’ll happily take Cas home whenever he’s ready to go.

“Smoke break?”

Cas looks up from where he’s sat on a bench, tilting his head at Dean in confusion. “I don’t smoke.”

“You should. It seems like an actor thing.”

“Maybe,” Cas says. “My parents would kill me.”

“God forbid.”

“You can go back inside,” Cas says. “I’m not having a panic attack.”

Dean joins him on the bench. “You’re my friend. I’m just hanging out.”

“Okay.”

The city’s quiet tonight. They’re not quite in the middle of downtown, closer to the water. Cas spots a couple in the distance, alternating between chasing each other and kissing.

“What’s your favorite Halloween costume from when you were a kid?” Dean asks.

“I was Batman one year. I really liked that.”

“No way, me too,” Dean says. “I was nine. Sam was five and went as Superman. He refused to take off the costume for a whole week. I tricked him into jumping off the shed.”

“Dean.”

“To be fair, I didn’t think he’d break his arm. My parents were pissed.”

“You are a terror.”

“Been called a lot of things. Terror is new.”

“I have a whole list if you need it.”

Dean grins at him in the darkness and Cas doesn’t let himself get sucked into it. “I’m glad you got to have Halloween. Sometimes when you talk, it sounds like you were born a mini adult. Like you never got to do any fun kid stuff.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but I didn’t get to go trick-or-treating every year. I could only go if it was a weekend or if I didn’t have an early call time the next day.”

“That sucks.”

“That’s the life. I remember once Halloween was on a Friday and the AD promised they’d make sure I was done early so my mom could take me trick-or-treating. You know how Friday night shootings drag on. My dad bought me a bag of candy to make up for it.”

“That’s so not in the spirit of the holiday,” Dean says. “Sorry you had to miss out on stuff.”

Cas shrugs. That’s his life. “Maybe I’ll be featured in a documentary about the psychological effects of not getting to participate in Halloween every year.”

Dean barks out a laugh. “That’s the spirit. I’m sure you had plenty of other childhood experiences ruined because of fame.”

“I found out extremely early on that Santa and the Tooth Fairy aren’t real,” Cas says. “On Chicagoland we did a Christmas episode in the first season. There was a scene where Meg and I were supposed to meet Santa. We were only five at the time and we saw the actor playing Santa take off his beard. It completely freaked us out and the magic was ruined.”

“Damn, that’s tragic. I found out about Santa when I was seven and caught my parents putting presents underneath the tree. Still believed in the Tooth Fairy until I was about twelve.”

“How?” Cas laughs.

“Honestly, I lost all my baby teeth pretty early on so I kinda forgot it was a thing. I found out when Sam found out.”

“I wish you never found out. I wish you went your whole life believing in the Tooth Fairy.”

“You just wanna see me embarrass myself,” Dean grins. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“No.”

“Vampires? Werewolves? Any sorta creature or monster?”

“To be honest, I haven’t given it much thought,” Cas says. “But I know they’re not real.”

“How can you be so sure if you’ve never seen them?”

“Because I’ve never seen them,” Cas says. “If I can’t see it then it isn’t real.”

Dean’s about to respond, but he’s cut off by Cassie coming outside and calling his name. Cas feels himself deflating at the sight of her, had so easily been able to erase her presence from his mind.

Cassie makes her way over to them, giving Cas a quick smile. She looks at Dean. “The cab is here.”

“Great,” Dean says. He looks at Cas. “I’m gonna take off. Are you planning on sticking around?”

Add this moment to the countless times he’s felt like an insignificant piece of gum stuck to the bottom of someone’s shoe. “I don’t know. I might go home soon.”

“Hael’s still inside,” Cassie says. “She was asking where you went.”

“Oh,” Cas says. “I’m kind of tired. I think I’m just gonna go.”

“Get home safe,” Dean tells him. He opens the backdoor of the cab, waiting for Cassie to climb in first. “See you first thing Monday?”

“Yup.”

“Cool,” Dean says. He gets in the car, and when he shuts the door, the window is already rolled down. “Later, Cas.”

“Bye, Dean.”

The cab carries them away and Cas is left standing on the sidewalk, never having felt so worthless before.

He’s tempted to go back inside to the party, if anything to raid the bar, but he doesn’t think he can face another person tonight. At least he keeps plenty of alcohol in his apartment.