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#anyways new to this and my untreated adhd means I make a gazillion typos/take forever to work on things/get distracted by new ideas but
billiewena · 3 years
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for the 100k fic celebration, here a portion of the “what if 10x05 had a sastiel agenda?” AKA lil shit sam/jealous dean destiel fic I first shared a while back! been having a lot of fun basically rewriting and expanding on the entire musical episode with new songs (and lots of cute kristen & siobhan moments because OF COURSE they’re still a couple.) it was really encouraging to see the positive response to it back then and it's been taking forever because of work/other writing but I’m so excited to have this one be the first full-length fics I ever post.
It starts with costumed teenagers locked in a tight embrace with absolutely no room for Jesus.
“What are they doing?”
Marie glances over her shoulder for only a brief second.
“Kids these days call it hugging,” she says slowly. Geez, it would’ve been less insulting for her to just outright say Wow, you’re old.
Except it’s not just any of the show’s stars hugging over there. One of them is the “Dean” who’d been mid-rehearsal when they arrived and looked more like Bieber than him with the blonde wig. And the other? Well, he would recognize that Columbo coat anywhere.
“Is that in the show?” he asks, pointing their way.
Marie quickly shakes her head at the accusation. “Oh, no. Siobhan and Kristen are a couple in a real life.”
He nods and lower his hand. Got it. That’s all it was. Everything’s fine. Nothing to worry about—
“No, my play explores the nature of Sastiel.”
“The — wait, what?” he says, confused at once.
“Sastiel?” Marie pauses, giving him a second to figure it out. He doesn’t. “You know, the relationship between Sam and Castiel?”
Dean blinks.
“Sam and…C-Cas?”
“I know, I know. Edlund’s series never finished. I’m lucky I got these drafts. Ugh, it’s Midnight Sun all over again. But the love story is all in the subtext,” she says with confidence. “Can you believe there are people who still think Destiel is endgame? After everything that happened after the angels fell? After Gadreel? Please.”
He silently sounds out the word. Des-tiel? Wait…
“Ever since Cas came back from the dead and took on Sam’s pain, I knew. I just knew. Every one of their arcs had been parallel to each other’s from their fall from grace to the trials. And now with Dean gone, all they have…is each other.”
Marie sighs. “Besides, you can’t spell subtext without S-E-X.”
He coughs and nearly chokes on an asteroid-sized lump in his throat.
“I…uh. Yeah, th-that’s not…you know, I think I’ve seen enough,” Dean says with a forced smile. “Thank you for your, ah, time. I’ll, uh, we’ll follow up if we have questions about the missing persons case. I—alright.”
And with that he purses his lips, turns on his heel and walks away — nearly tripping over one of the stage chords as he does. Why are there are so many of them anyways? This is just some all-girls school production, not the goddamn West End.
He finds Sam in his natural nerd habitat (the tech booth) sifting through all the bins of A/V supplies.
“Yeah, not to interrupt the blast from the past here but it’s time for us to go,” he says, patting the door.
His brother shoots him an annoyed look but packs up and follows him out all the same. Not that Dean bothers to wait for him; no, he makes a beeline for the car as soon as he leaves the booth.
“Hey, what’s with the rush?” Sam calls after him as he runs to catch up with him at the school entrance.
“No rush,” he says shortly. “Just wanted to see what you found out before you got too lost in the nerd sauce over there.”
He doesn’t need to look back to know he’s on the receiving end of a Classic Sam Bitchface right now and continues to stomp his way through the parking lot.
“Well, no EMF, no hex bags. None of their props are remotely hinky. Talked to Maeve and all those extras in the auditorium.” Sam finally catches up and walks side-by-side with him now. “You have any more luck?”
“Nah. Ms. Chandler's office is just a pile of empty bottles and regret. She's probably just face down in a bar somewhere. Or a ditch. I did get to hear all about the director’s, ah, creative vision though,” Dean says, teeth gritted. “Apparently we go into space, I become a woman, and there’s even ninjas and robots!”
“Robots. Huh. Well, that’d definitely be a new one.”
“There’s no robots in Supernatural—”
“I-I know that,” Sam says in exasperation. “I just mean it’s, y’know, innovative. And Dean we’ve fought weirder. Remember the teddy bear? The fairies? The ballet shoes?”
“Well, you just wait until you hear about what she in store for you, Lover Boy,” he says.
And that makes Sam do an instant double-take.
“Uh, Lover Boy?”
“Yeah, your number one fan back there —” he says, gesturing back towards the school, “— was telling me all about the play’s, uh, love story between you and Cas. You got something you’ve been meaning to tell me or what?”
“The love story? Wait, what do you mean me and Cas?”
Dean scoffs, already in utter disbelief of the words he was about to say. “Like you and Cas, together. Together together? Romance of the ages the way she made it sound. Apparently it’s all in her play!”
To his surprise though, Sam just… laughs. “Well, I mean hey, that’s an improvement from the ones who wrote about me and you.”
“You got that right,” he agrees with a shudder. Meeting one Becky the Stalker was bad enough. Knowing she wasn’t alone and that she had an audience made it even worse. “She even had a portmanteau for you, dude. Like you’re some celebrities in a grocery store tabloid. Sass-tiel.”
“Sass-tiel?” He seems to seriously consider it but shrugs. “I don’t know. What about… Samstiel? CasSam? Cam? Mmm, maybe not that…”
Dean groans. “Really? That’s your issue with this?”
“Of course it’s not my issue,” Sam says. He stays pensive for a few more seconds until chuckling again to himself this time, as if he’s the only one in on a private joke. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, Cas is great but…”
“Not your type?”
“Yeah, sure,” Sam says. No, it’s definitely more than that and he’s doing a piss-poor job of hiding his amused expression.
Dean turns and stares him down. “What?”
“I dunno,” he says, his smirk fully visible now. “I just think it’s funny they’re pairing me up with Cas when the one with the ‘profound bond’ with him is right there.”
“Oh, haha. You’re hilarious,” Dean retorts at once.
“Hey man, I’m not the one who stayed in Purgatory for a year to find him.”
His glare takes on a murderous edge.
“Okay. You know what? You’re going to do that thing where you just shut the hell up! Forever!”
Sam holds up his hands in either what’s either a show of innocence or surrender.
“Alright, alright. Well, other than the Charlie Kaufman of it all I got nothing.”
“So…what?” Dean says. “This-this all... This whole musical thing, everything, it's... it's all a coincidence? There is no case?”
“Unless you're seeing something I'm not, no, Dean. There's no case here,” he says sincerely this time.
“Come on. This has classic Trickster vibes all over it.” He almost wants to turn around and start yelling, Come on out Gabriel you bastard!
“Trickster’s dead, man. And he wasn’t just a trickster, he was an archangel. And they’re all gone too.”
“Could be a lower-rank angel?” Dean tries. “I mean, Zachariah pulled off an entire apocalypse world. And that place where we were both corporate drones. Before you know it, this’ll get all Buffy and it’ll be me and you singin’ and dancin’—“
“Dean…I think it’s just fans. Look, as long as they’re not putting another love spell on one of us I couldn’t really care less what they’re doing,” Sam says with some bitterness, clearly not looking back at that particular memory with any fondness. “Just writing some songs? I mean, it’s innocent enough.”
“Oh yeah, so innocent,” he scoffs. “They’re singing about our dead parents, your demon blood bender, the apocalypse, all of it! This is just…it’s make-believe for them! But it’s our lives!”
Sam runs a tired hand through his hair. “Look, I don’t get it either man. I wasn’t exactly thinking about the books’ entertainment value while Chuck was describing my sex life in vivid detail—“
“Don’t remind me,” he says, holding up a hand in disgust.  
“—but I dunno. There’s obviously something about it they connected to, right? Something they related to, something that moved them, inspired them? And I guess…I mean, what’s wrong with that?”
There is so, so much wrong with that.
“I don’t know what story they’re reading and what Sam and Dean they’re ‘connecting’ to here. But it sure as hell ain’t us. I mean…they even made me blonde, dude.”
“It’s a high school play, what can you expect?” Sam laughs. “It was probably the closest wig they could find at Party City.”
Dean ignores him, muttering aloud as he makes his way to the driver’s seat.
“The hair…the singing…the robots… the love story…”
“You really were bothered by that, weren’t you?” Sam gives his brother a curious look.
“SUPERNATURAL ISN’T A ROMANCE!” Dean snaps. “Look, these girls obviously don’t know what they’re talking about—“
“I dunno, Dean,” Sam said in a clearly taunting voice now. “Maybe you’re just jealous of what me and Cas have.”
He flushes. “W-what? I-I’m not—“
“We could give you two a name too, y’know? So you don’t feel left out? What about…Dee-stiel? CasDean?”
And he refuses to entertain this conversation any longer.
“Shut your face! Get in the car!”
Thankfully Sam notices the shift in tone and obliges at once.
Dean, meanwhile, takes a moment outside the car to glance around — almost as if checking to see if anyone overheard that comment. Not that it mattered. Who could overhear? No one even knew they were THE Sam and THE Dean. Who cared? He certainly didn’t care. He didn’t care at all...
(to be continued)
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