Trans boy Dean who grows up being called Deanna, but who never really likes his name (it tastes wrong on his tongue) or his body (it feels ill-fitting in some vague but fundamental way he can't describe – like the wrong shape got pulled over him, somehow, except he's never known anything else and so he can't articulate this, not yet).
Trans boy Dean who's all right until puberty – happy, even, all things considered – except then he starts growing breasts, and then he starts growing in all the wrong ways, and there's this constant, uncomfortable burn in his chest, almost like pain, almost like shame, that won't go away no matter how many layers he hides under (and it only gets worse if he looks at himself in a mirror).
Trans boy Dean who, once a month, starts bleeding, and it leaves him feeling sick and shaky and wrong and rooted, somehow, chained to something he never asked for nor consented to (the burning feeling gets worse and stays worse, and Dean doesn't understand; it crawls under his skin like a sickness, and Dean wishes, for the first time of many, that he could tear off every single inch and just be done with everything).
Trans boy Dean who, all throughout high school, avoids getting undressed whenever intimacy is involved; who would much rather have the focus be on his partner and on their body than his own (few partners complain, obviously, and he learns exactly what shuts up those that do – and for those that insist on giving too much back, well, he either breaks things off or bails; the family business never did let them stay in one town long anyway).
Trans boy Dean who drives himself to exhaustion every day and booze-whets his way to unconsciousness every night because he tries, he tries so hard to avoid the question what the fuck is wrong with me and if he lets himself dwell on it for one second, if he doesn't keep his hands busy, his mouth preoccupied, his body active and his heart in pieces, he wonders, desperately, what he might do (if there's even anything he can do).
But ultimately, trans boy Dean who slowly, very slowly, puts together the pieces:
How while Sam gets defensive on his behalf, furious even, every time someone calls him names, or says he looks butch, like a boy, a guy, Dean… doesn't. It doesn't sound so much like an insult, to him. In fact, it sets something aglow inside him that's light and delicate and tentatively happy, and even if he's not sure what to make of it, even if he doesn't tell Sam about it, it sure is a nice feeling (in fact, whenever someone says something along those lines he always ends up carrying himself a little straighter).
How when he lets himself think about just how much he wants to be like dad, he realizes there's a much deeper desire there too, something that settles in his bones in an almost jealous way, like dad has something, maybe is something, that Dean can never – will never be able to – measure up to (and that, of course, is a terrifying thought, but it's also a little relieving in a strange, weird way, because it puts the first etchings of a definition onto what he's feeling – onto what he's craving, what he wants, what he's missing).
How when Rhonda Hurley tosses aside his underwear (panties, if he's honest, but Dean hates the word) and suggests they try a strap-on, and Dean acquiesces, puts it on, fumbles with it, gets it right, and she looks him over and beams, calls him a pretty boy – christ, it had felt dirty and kinky as fuck at first, but she says those words and something lights up inside him, fierce and euphoric and completely unexpected.
He has some of the best sex he's ever had that night, but more than that, he realizes – certainly not everything (he's gotten too used to feeling too much to be that introspective), but enough. Enough for a start. For a step in the right direction. He doesn't realize everything, not by a longshot, but he does realize that there's more out there than he knows, and maybe, just maybe, if he's smart about it and lucky as hell – maybe this is something he can actually figure out.
Maybe he can be okay again. Maybe, just maybe, he's not broken.