A Wish Your Heart Makes
By: TGyamiBakura

Yaaay we've chapter 4! Thank you all so much for reading this story! Your comments really motivate me and the support is phenomenal.

Things are really heating up now!

Chapter warnings: Profanity. Get ready for some serious angst.

Years of being a hunter had Dean trained not to sleep too lightly. Always being half awake, he never did sleep very well, but at least he could say he'd never been stabbed in his sleep. When he was awoken by a soft clicking of the door, immediately he took stock of himself and the too-soft bed and the clean smell.

Not a dingy hotel, then. He felt disappointment wrap around him in a cold embrace.

Not his world.

The door opened and he resisted the urge to jump out of bed and demand the identity of the intruder, because in this world the chances of finding a demon in his room—one ready to exact revenge, were very little.

The person padded over softly and sat on the edge of his bed, probably assuming Dean was still sleeping. He felt a soft hand card its fingers through his hair and he tried not to tense up. Nobody ever touched him like that. He wasn't comfortable with them doing it now, either.

"You think I don't know you're awake?" A familiar female voice chuckled. Dean opened his eyes and they fell on the form of Danneel. The meager glow of the sunrise barely illuminating her fine features. She smiled and set her hands on her lap.

"Sorry." Dean said, not sure what else to say on the matter.

"It's okay. You still don't remember me, Jens?" Dean sat against the headboard.

"I don't. I'm sorry." He didn't know what he disliked more; Jensen or Jens? It was a close tie. He wished she'd stop calling him both.

Danneel sighed, looking out the window sadly, her eyes burning amber against the sun.

"I don't know what I expected." She started, her fingers nervously worrying the hem of her red jacket. "I always knew that amnesia was a real possibility after you woke up. I just thought, perhaps, it wouldn't happen to you—and even if it did, that you wouldn't forget me, of all people." Dean shifted uncomfortably. What was Dean supposed to do about that? This wasn't even his life!

"I'm sorry—" She shook her head.

"It's not your fault. You didn't ask for this." She paused for a moment, biting her lip before speaking again. "I wanted to ask you if maybe we could try something. . . I know this might sound weird, but I've heard of people remembering through touch so. . ." She looked down at the floor nervously and Dean was worried she was about to rip her jacket to shreds before he suddenly had an armful of Danneel.

Dean wasn't sure what was happening until he felt her glossy lips on his, her tongue pushing into his mouth, and her hands on the side of his face. He froze, not expecting that at all.

It was a desperate kiss, like she would die if she stopped. As she pressed closer, he could feel her slim waist beneath his fingers and her firm breasts pressing against his chest—

Dean felt nothing.

This was weird, because last time he checked, he was still into women. Even if he was kind of sort of not really with Castiel, he still found women attractive. He still subscribed to Busty Asian Beauties. He still watched animated chicks online. . .

This was probably one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen in his life and he felt absolutely nothing as she kissed him. Cas couldn't have had that big of an impact on him.

She kept kissing him, trying her hardest to wring a reaction from him but he still couldn't move. He was horrified and starting to feel very uncomfortable with this whole situation. He fleetingly wondered how jealous Cas would get if he saw this right now. He almost grinned.

Danneel's hands trailed lower and lower and when she found what she was looking for. Dean jumped in surprise. He desperately fought the urge to push her away, because he was kind of with someone, but he couldn't just let her know that. What would be his excuse anyways? It wasn't working out for her anyways. Dean couldn't have been farther from turned on at that point, for some reason. When she finally gave up, Dean cringed at the devastated look on her flushed face.

"Did you feel anything?" Dean avoided her eyes.

"Y-Yeah it was fine," She grabbed his chin and turned him to face her. Her eyebrows knitted together in distress.

"Look at me." She studied his face for a minute Dean bit his lip, certain she wasn't buying a damn word of it. "You didn't feel anything at all, did you?" Dean pulled away, feeling guilty even though it wasn't really his fault.

"Look, Danneel don't worry about it, okay? I'm still pretty messed up from the accident so I probably just need some time to recover." Dean supplied, hoping she would buy it. She shook her head.

"N-No you're right. Of course it's just the accident. It's too soon to be thinking about this." They sat in awkward silence for a moment before Dean couldn't handle it anymore.

"S-So do you, you know, usually stay with Jen-me when I'm doing the whole acting thing? Don't we live in Texas?"

"Well, I flew in from California. We were on set and then I got the call that you were seriously injured and that I needed to get here as soon as possible."

"Set? Like movie set?" She nodded. "You're an actress?" She smiled, taking his hand and rubbing it with her thumb. She was awfully touchy feely. . .

"You'll remember soon, sweetie." He coughed, using it as an excuse to pull his hand away.

"You don't. . . Look I'm fine now. You don't have to put your job on hold because of this," She looked at him in disbelief.

"You're. . . You think this is fine? Jensen you don't even remember me, your fiancé—your girlfriend for six years. That's not fine." Six years. That's a long ass time to be dating at their age. Why weren't they already married with a bunch of children? Isn't that what regular people did? He decided not to ask though. It really wasn't any of his business. She looked hurt for a moment. "You'd think I'd leave you alone like this? What kind of fiancée do you think I'd be if I did that?" There were tears in her eyes now and her hands were shaking. Dean sighed and looked at the ceiling in frustration. He didn't do well with emotional people. He took her by the shoulders and made her look at him.

"Danneel, there's no way to even say this but I don't know you. There's no point in you crying every time I don't remember something you and Jensen did or how you kissed him or whatever. I don't know who Jensen is and I don't know how to be him for you. You might as well just go film your movie and wait for me to get my memories back, 'cause it's just going to keep on hurting you if you don't." She shook her head, her shoulders trembling with hollow laughter.

"God that's so like you. Is insensitivity just in your nature then?" she stood up and refused to look at him. Her voice was full of bite when she spoke and Dean could tell she was angry now. "I was going to ask you to come back to the hotel, but I wouldn't want to have you hurt my feelings or anything outrageous like that. If you need me, you have my number. Try not to ask for anything too inconvenient." He could see tears forming at the corners of her eyes before she got up and stormed off. Dean reached out, for some reason feeling like he should probably stop her.

"Danneel—wait!" She looked back shaking her head dismissively.

"Just get better." That's all she said before she walked out again. Dean sighed.

And this was why he and women couldn't do long-term.

When Dean looked up again, he could see a figure standing there in the doorway—Tall and brooding. Upon closer inspection, he could see Sam's face looking at him worriedly. Dean stood up immediately in alarm.

"Sam? Sam is it you?" 'Sam' looked at him strangely.

"Sam?" He repeated, shaking his head. Not Sam then. "Jensen what's going on? Are you okay? Jesus man I was so worried. What did you do to Danneel?" He gestured out the hallway where she took her leave. What did he do? Dean wasn't the one doing the random kiss-raping groping thing, okay? Jared went over to him and ruffled his hair affectionately.

"Misha told me you have amnesia. . . I was going to ask if you remembered me, but then you called me Sam, so I'm guessing you're still in that state." Dean rubbed his eyes, as though doing so would wipe the stress from his body.

"What did Misha tell you?" Jared shook his head.

"That you have amnesia of only you're entire life and are convinced you're Dean Winchester." Dean sighed.

"I am Dean Winchester. There was an accident in my world and I was sent here for some reason. I know who you are but I've never actually met you, you see? I know you married Ruby." Dean looked at him funny. "Really dude, Ruby?"

"She's Genevieve." Jared said irritably. "And you're not Dean, Jensen."

"I am. You don't even have to believe me 'cause I'm leaving as soon as Sam and Cas get back to me." Jared walked over to him, looking at him sadly.

"Jensen, you're not Dean Winchester," Dean balled his fists, really not in the mood for an argument about this.

"Whatever man, believe what you want. I'll stay out of your way if you'll stay out of mine." Jared took Dean's fist in his hand and looked him straight in the eye. Dean tried to pull away but Jared was stronger and he held steadfast. Dean glared at Jared. "What the hell, dude?"

"If you're Dean, then what's your middle name?" Dean sighed in exasperation.

"Seriously?"

"Answer me." He demanded.

"It's—Well it's. . ." Dean searched his head, and for some reason that defied all logic, he couldn't remember it. It was like there was a blank space where his middle name should have been. His heartbeat started racing a mile a minute and he froze.

"You can't remember it, can you?" Dean was barely listening at this point. Middle name, Middle name. . . What was it? Why couldn't he remember his middle name? Sam-No, Jared shook him and forced Dean to look into his eyes. "You can't remember it? How about Sam's? What's his middle name? Your dad? Mary? You don't know because the writers never wrote them one." Dean tore away from Jared's grip and stepped back, stumbling a bit. He couldn't believe it, but he couldn't remember any of their middle names and he was sure. . . Well, no. He couldn't remember ever being told but he didn't know why he wouldn't know. Dad surely would have told him, right? What was going on? Jared continued "What school did you go to? When did you lose your virginity? I'm betting these are questions you can't answer, huh?" Dean said nothing, his world shattering before him as he looked into Jared's unyielding eyes.

"I-I just forgot. . . It's insane but I freakin' forgot!" No, he thought. No. This can't be real. I'm not an actor. I'm Dean Winchester. I've been Dean my whole life. I remember it all I—

But then. . . Why were there so many gaps in his memory? He'd always just assumed it was a side-effect of being in hell or something but he could count on one hand how many good memories of his childhood he had. That wasn't normal. He knew life had been rough when he was a child; Growing up with his hunter dad and having to learn how to fire a gun at eight years old—but it can't have been that miserable. His dad had always kept them safe enough. . .

Didn't he?

John Winchester taught him how to survive in that world. Dean respected his dad for that, but suddenly he didn't know why he devoted so much time trying to live in his shadow. His dad, according to all of his memories, was never home, never there. Dean always took care of Sam and. . . Well fuck, why would Dean want to be like that?

Why couldn't he remember his own middle name?

Everything he knew. Everything he thought he knew. . .

Jared looked away, looking uncomfortable. "I think you need to start considering that Castiel and Sam aren't coming for you." He said, softly. Dean's body started trembling without his permission and he didn't even feel his knees go out as he fell to the floor. He brought his hands to his face, as though feeling it for the first time.

A script. A television show? If it were true, his name wasn't even Dean, it was fucking Jensen.

Was this some kind of joke? Was somebody manipulating his thoughts? Why would he remember everything but his middle name? Could it be a dream that was produced by a djinn? But no, djinn didn't work like this.

Dean looked up and saw Misha looking on at him sadly from the doorway. The look on his face fostered terror in Dean's heart and for some reason he just knew.

He literally wasn't going back to Kansas.

He stood up and shoved past Sam-Jared and tried to push past Misha but they grabbed him. He struggled, trying to get away. He had to get out of here. He couldn't be in this room any longer. He couldn't handle their pitiful stares. His face was burning and his heart pounding so fast he thought he might have a heart attack.

I'm not Dean Winchester.

Sam.

Cas

They don't exist.

I don't exist.

Dean brought a shaky hand to Misha's face, caressing the stubble there softly. He let out a trembling breath as his world slipped away faster and faster. The stubble was wrong, the expression too human. He even had some sort of fragrance.

He's gone.

"Dean?" Misha looked at him nervously, bringing up his own hand to cover the one on his cheek.

Dean didn't answer. If it was true, he couldn't even refer to himself as Dean anymore. What would he call himself in his head now? Misha shook his head, grabbing Dean's shoulders and looking him in the eyes.

"You're still Dean. You remember all that stuff I said about realities yesterday? That reality, the one you know it's still your reality. Until you remember your life as Jensen, you're still Dean." Dean couldn't even hear Misha anymore, he was so lost in his head.

"Can you guys just leave me alone for a bit?"

"Of course. Come on Jarhead,"

"Real mature," Jared said mockingly. They took their exit and left the door ajar as they went into the living area. Dean sat down on the bed and hung his head in his hands.

He could hear them start to argue through the door.

"That was uncalled for, Jared."

"Uncalled for? I thought making him aware of who he really is was the point of me being here, and why the hell are you calling him Dean?"

"He's lost, Jared. In his head, he's Dean, not Jensen. It's unhealthy for people not to have an identity."

"So you think it's healthy to pretend he's a character from a made up TV show?"

"I don't know anybody who's suffered amnesia like this before, but I know when people have complete memory loss, it's the loneliest and most terrifying experience for them. I can't think that it's right to take the only thing he knows away from him when he has nothing else. There's no point in pretending he's someone he can't even remember. When he gets his memories back, he'll just pick up where he left off and this will be something to laugh about, but right now, he is Dean and he's going through an extreme existential crisis right now and we need to support him."

"Jensen can't just go around with Dean in his head. That's a disaster waiting to happen."

"I think you're confusing amnesia with dissociative identity disorder. He's not suffering from conflicting personalities. He doesn't have Jensen inside of his head. He can't just learn how to be Jensen Ackles. Who else is he going to be until his memories come back?"

"I don't see why he has to be Dean Winchester, though. Why can't he just be Jensen Ackles with amnesia?"

"Because right now his mind is Dean and there's nothing we can do to change that. He's going to act and live like Dean regardless of what we call him, so we might as well call him for what he is. Also, I don't want him to do something stupid. If he's Dean and he feels hopeless with no support from us—Well you should know better than anyone what Winchesters do when they become hopeless. The word 'martyr' ringing any bells?"

Dean picked up the laptop on Misha's bed and opened it, deciding he didn't want to listen anymore. Apparently they forgot that he was still technically in the room. Also, it seemed that Misha didn't believe in passcodes because the laptop wasn't locked.

When he opened the internet, the first page he was taken to was some sort of Supernatural message board. There were discussions and posts all about the show, but at the top was a topic that read "Rumor: Jensen Ackles suffering severe amnesia. Supernatural to be put on long hiatus?" He clicked the link. Apparently it was simply a rumor with no hard evidence. He should know. They would ask before they told everybody about his amnesia.

It's sucks. Supernatural is my favorite show, but I hope Jensen is okay.

Even the best actors aren't indestructible

Why do all the good shows have to get cancelled?

Dean read more comments and they all said about the same thing. There were already hundreds of posts in this topic. It seemed that hundreds of people were in love with this show and very disappointed at the thought of a hiatus, or worse, a cancellation. He shut the laptop cover and stood up, making his way to the living area where Jared and Misha were still arguing.

If he couldn't have his life back, then he had to make the most of this one. He blocked out all the pain that was trying to climb up, because it wasn't convenient right now. If it was one thing Dean knew, it was how to ignore his emotions.

He pulled out his phone, fumbling around the interface for a moment before finding and scanning his contacts until he found "Kelly Bush". He pressed the number and held the phone to his ear. He hoped this was the correct 'Kelly."

"Jensen? Jensen what's going on? Are you okay?"

"Kelly, tell the media that Supernatural is going to air on schedule."

"What? But Jensen you just got out of the hospital! What about your memory? I was told you had amnesia!"

"I'm fine. Tell them I'm in perfect condition and ready to begin shooting, okay?"

"O-Okay? Okay! Um. . . Lemme just call Rachel and Robert and see where they stand on that. . ."

She hung up and Dean found himself looking up at the two horrified faces of Misha and Jared. He grinned, locking the phone and looking up at them. "Well, looks like I need to learn how to be Jensen Ackles by the end of this week. Let's get started?"

Dean had to grab onto any line he was thrown. If this was his life, he had to learn to live it. What if he got Jensen's memories back, and his life was turned upside down because Dean was too pussy to pick up the slack? No, he had to get things done and now.

If Supernatural was his life, then he would hold onto all he had left of it.

Misha glared at Jared in annoyance. "This is your fault,"

..::oOo::..

When they got to Jared's mansion—Dean knew it was Jared's since he'd been there before—the guys thought it would be a good idea for Dean to watch some interviews and shows featuring Jensen Ackles so he could get an idea of how the guy acted in real life. They dismissed the bodyguard dudes and set up in the home-theater room. It was like a mini movie-theater, only cooler. There was a large projector screen and leather recliners and couches lining the floor.

"Are you even sure about this?" Misha asked him, looking uncertain. "It would be easier to just wait until you get your memories back." Dean sighed.

"Wait how long? What if I never get them back? Jensen's—My career sits idle and everything I've apparently worked for goes to shit. If it's one thing I can't do, it's sit around doing nothing. You might not be Castiel, but you should know me better than that." Misha grinned his lopsided smile and Dean felt his heart start to flutter. It was amazing how just seeing that smile had that kind of effect on him.

"I just hope you don't do more harm than good. . ." Jared said as he took a seat on the couch. "First thing you need to know is that Jensen is similar to you, only not so cranky. He's always fooling around." Jared supplied. "You've got all of that only you're always so angry. You're going to have to pretend your mother didn't burst into flames on the ceiling if you want to make everyone believe you're him."

"Piece of cake, right?" Dean said sarcastically, clapping his hands together. He plopped down on the red-leather couch. "Let's get some popcorn up in this bitch," He snapped his fingers.

..::oOo::..

Dean was already getting irritated because apparently Jared Padalecki was nothing like his little brother when it came to food. Jared managed to eat almost all of those cookies by himself that Deb had made. Dean was pretty damn sure those cookies were for him and Misha. Dean stared at him disapprovingly as the last chocolate chip cookie disappeared into the abyss that was Jared's stomach.

The Sam he knew would want to stretch out those cookies as long as he could and eventually Dean would have to eat them all before they got hard and gross. Dean sighed.

He wondered if it was normal to grieve the loss of a family you never even had. He still remembered everything about his fake life. There weren't any epiphanies like "Oh, right I'm an actor," no surge of memories coming back or anything convenient like that. He was still Dean Winchester, only it felt like Sam, Castiel, all of the people he'd ever loved or cared about were dead. Up until now, he'd refused to think about it, but as he realized how hopeless his situation was, it was getting harder and harder to ignore.

Benny, Charlie. . .

His brother. . .

Cas. . .

And the sad thing was that they weren't even dead. They just happened to never even have existed. It was all a dream. His entire life.

Right now, it sure sounded like the end one craptastic movie.

He'd fought tooth and nail all his life for. . .For what? For Sam? For Cas? God knows it wasn't for himself.

But now his reason. His life purpose was taken away.

What did he have to fight for now? What did Jensen Ackles fight for? He shook his head.

Jensen, If you're somewhere in this noggin of yours, I could really use your help, bro.

Looking at the faces of Misha and Jared was painful—surreal, because it seemed like he was with Cas and Sam again. When they spoke, however, he was reminded that no. This was Jensen's life. They were Jensen's friends.

He couldn't just give Jared a hug. He couldn't just up and kiss Misha, demanding that he make him forget about all the pain. They weren't his people to love. His people were in a world that didn't exist. He thought he knew loneliness, but this was something else entirely.

This was torture.

"Jensen? Jensen are you okay?" Jared was watching him, his hand waving in front of Dean's face. Dean ignored the concerned glances being thrown his way. He looked up at his face on the screen. He was at a convention talking about filming a particular episode.

Rachel had called earlier, concerned about his decision to continue acting even in this state. He did his best to convince her that everything would be fine. He had Jared and Misha helping him out. He couldn't just quit his life. Who knew when Jensen's memories would come back? He had to make do with what he had.

The only problem was: How could Dean Winchester ever live up to Jensen Ackles?

Jensen Ross Ackles was an amazing man. There were so many interviews and specials concerning him. Not only did he act, but he was a musician too. He was a sports junkie, a model since he was a little kid and he was even planning to go to university for sports medicine at one point. Dean could never imagine being that talented. He didn't think he was wired that way.

Apparently he was.

"Is there anything?" Misha asked, concerned. "Do you remember any of this?" Dean looked at his—Jensen's face again, the way he joked and laughed. He was completely relaxed, like the weight of the world wasn't on his shoulders. He saw the way the man smiled like he hadn't spent 40 years in hell. The only person that made Dean smile like that was Castiel.

"Nothing. I'm still Dean," He clapped his hands together, standing and let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "Maybe I need a night to let all this junk sink in. Do you have a room I can crash in?" Jared stood up and nodded, clapping him on the shoulder in a firm grip. Dean stumbled a bit—Still a moose then.

At least some things never changed.

..::oOo::..

When he got to the bedroom, he noticed there was some luggage there—Jensen's stuff?

"Danneel had your handlers bring some of your stuff from the hotel. She said she would do it herself, but she wouldn't want to be inconvenienced. I'm so confused. . . What did you do to her? She sounds so pissed."

"There's a reason why Dean Winchester isn't married, okay?" He said. Jared rolled his eyes. "Apparently Jensen has the same problem, though. Seriously, six years and they aren't married yet?" Jared looked sheepishly, as though apologizing for Jensen and Danneel.

"They're kind of on-again, off-again. . ."

"I see," Dean's eye landed on the guitar next to his bed. He went over and picked it up. It was a nice one—Gibson J-200. Dean may not play guitar, but he knew a good one when he saw it. "Apparently pissing off women is in my nature then." He picked up the guitar, sitting on the bed and plucking at the strings a bit. "Do you think I can really remember being Jensen Ackles?"

"Of course you will. Almost everybody with amnesia remembers their old lives." Dean gave him a false grin.

"Right, but you forget, for me, it doesn't even feel like I have amnesia. I have a life I still remember. I'm not just sitting here with an empty head. I still remember my brother Sam, our half-ass father and Castiel. . . the angel that pulled me out of hell. Not to mention hell. That was a carnival ride right there." Dean said, ruefully. His fingers trailed up and down the neck of the guitar as his other hand strummed it softly. He was dangerously close to getting all mopey again, but there was suddenly some acoustic led zeppelin playing that was calming his nerves.

"The real question, is whether or not you can really pretend to be Jensen Ackles? Are you sure you can do that? Dean Winchester isn't an actor."

"Dean Winchester can do anything he has to do. You forget, when I lived in hell I became a torturer." Swipe. "When I got out of it, I became a warrior of God." Swipe. Swipe. "I was more of a father to you—well Sam, at thirteen than John ever was. I'm like a jack of all trades. I was written by you guys, so you should know. Besides I should be able to handle playing myself." Swipe, swipe, swipe. "You know, I love that song—" Dean opened his eyes and noticed that Jared was just standing there, his arms crossed, a very Sam-like bitchface plastered onto him. He didn't have any instruments and it was then, Dean realized that the sound was coming from the guitar in his hands. His hands were playing that song.

He was playing guitar?

His fingers seemed to know what strings to hold down as his other hand strummed and created sound. Dean looked up at Jared like he'd grown a second head. "How am I doing this? I know nothing about playing music. I'm in the 'listening only' club." Jared grinned.

"That is something called 'muscle memory'. Even if your mind doesn't remember playing music, your body does. It's like riding a bike. Once you learn, your body doesn't ever really forget. It's just like walking and talking. You do it enough so even though you stop thinking about it, you'll still do it. Jensen is a musician so it's second nature for him." Dean let out a breath, putting the guitar back on the ground.

"So, I really am Jensen Ackles, huh?"

"Apparently." Dean bit his lip.

"I don't remember him-me, whatever. I don't remember Danneel." He paused, wondering if he should even be talking about this or if it was couples' code not to. He found, quickly, that he didn't really care. "Danneel kissed me today."

"She did?"

"Yeah. . . Said something about physical touch triggering memories and junk." Dean sighed. "Thing is, she kissed me in a way that should have had me sweating but I didn't even react to it. It just made me uncomfortable like. . . It was awkward. She wasn't happy." He coughed, nervously. "That's weird right? I like women, Jensen obviously likes women, too. So. . . There's the whole muscle memory thing like you said, so I should have reacted, right?"

"That is kind of weird." Jared said, thoughtfully. "Maybe it's too soon for something like that?" Dean remembered almost salivating watching Misha Collins just stretching. If he were having problems downstairs, he wouldn't have acted that way.

"I don't think that's the case. I don't have any problems. . . with that." He was really uncomfortable talking about this with a man that looked exactly like his little brother Sammy.

"Well what about you? Maybe you're too preoccupied thinking about someone else?" Dean felt his face heat up and he realized he really didn't want to talk about this. He wasn't about to come out to this guy when he couldn't even tell Sam in his own world!

"Yeah, no. I don't know." Jared smirked, prancing (quite literally) into the room and plopping down onto the bed.

"Dean Winchester is in lurrrrve?!" Jared leaned in and scrutinized Dean with a big, shit-eating grin. Dean shoved him away.

"What? No! Where do you even. . ." Jared cracked up laughing, hugging Dean's arm and refusing to let go. Dean sighed resignedly, looking down at the Sam-like imposter. "You know, you're completely different from my brother. You look just like him but you're so much weirder." He looked thoughtfully. "I never thought I'd say there was someone weirder than Sammy. Or more obnoxious. . ." Jared snuggled into Dean's side.

"You know, we may not be brothers by blood, but I've always got your back, okay? You're Jensen Ackles, now. You need to get used to relying on the people that love you." Dean rolled his eyes, grimacing.

"God, no wonder they cast you as Sam. If you say anything more girly than that I might actually vomit." Jared shoved him over and Dean shoved him back. They hit each other with pillows and it was the most childish thing, but it was okay. Dean felt like maybe the Sam in this world—Jared Padalecki wasn't all unlike his own Sam after all.

Much more of a pig, and more of a goof-off, but his heart was in the right place.

Suddenly there was shouting from downstairs.

"Kids it's time for bed! Don't make me come up there!" Misha said in a very mother-like voice. Jared snickered, pinning Dean to the bed.

"You heard Mom. Time for bed. Night Jen—Ah whatever, Dean. Maybe tonight I'll forego the goodnight kiss."

"Kiss?" Dean shivered in disgust, staring at Jared like he was an alien from another planet. Jared looked at him seriously.

"I thought Misha told you? We're sleeping together. Gen and Danneel don't know. Come to think of it, that's probably why you couldn't get it up when she kissed you. We've been doing this for about a year now." Dean felt his gut fill with ice, suddenly he was extremely aware of Jared's proximity.

Sleeping together? He and Sam in this world were fucking?!

Moreover, Jensen was gay?!

A bunch of very unwanted images flew through Deans mind, each more revolting than the last. He was caught somewhere between horrified and nauseated when he saw Jared's lip quirk. At that moment, something clicked in Dean's head.

Oh that sadistic sonovabitch.

Jared broke up in a fit of giggles.

"Oh my god, dude your face. You should see your face right now! I'm sorry, I just can't even. . .There are no words," Jared was overwhelmed by a fit of giggles.

"Oh, screw you man!" Dean shoved Jared off of him and stood up, his hands still shaking from the shock. Jared was still laughing.

"But your face! Pranking Dean Winchester is way more hilarious than pranking Jensen Ackles! Dean narrowed his eyes at the overly tall man.

"Yeah, yeah, very funny. You can get the fuck out now."

Jared stood up and cupped Dean's face in his hands. "Goodnight, lover." He pecked the hunter smack dab on the lips and ducked away and out the door quickly to avoid the resulting punch. Dean had never felt so violated in his entire life.

Jared Padalecki, everyone.

Dean sighed and flopped onto the bed, not even bothering taking off his clothes. He was too exhausted to even move. Not the physical kind of exhausted, the exhausted where your brain feels like a sticky puddle of goo and you're lucky if you can count to 20 kind of exhausted.

He looked up at the chestnut panel ceiling in this bedroom. This bedroom was so grandiose that he wondered what Jared's room could possibly look like. There was an archway that lead to the bathroom and Dean couldn't see into it because it was too dark. The display on the alarm clock read 11:17pm, signaling that they'd been watching interviews and eating pizza and cookies nearly the entire day.

Dean's little exchange with Jared seemed to have cheered him up for a moment. It was nice to know, at the very least, that he wasn't alone in all of this. He wondered for a moment if he'd be able to do it by himself?

Yeah, probably not.

The thing was. He couldn't stop thinking about that prank.

That's probably the reason why you couldn't get it up when she kissed you.

Between the guitar, the whole muscle memory business, the kiss with Danneel that felt like kissing a piece of over-excited cardboard; Dean thought that maybe Jensen wasn't who everybody might think he is. Shouldn't his body have reacted to Danneel? They'd been together for six years, and if that's not enough time to build up some muscle memory sexually, then he didn't know what was.

Dean knew he liked girls. He'd been enjoying the pleasures of women for most of his life now. That wasn't just about to go away from being with just one guy. He could stop himself from touching women, but he would still have reacted to Danneel's advance if it were purely on Dean's part.

But, that he couldn't even blush from it was the strange thing. Maybe he would do well not to think about this right now.

He turned on his side and breathed in the scent of fresh linen of the pillow—it reminded him that this was his reality now. Money, girlfriend, interviews—clean blankets and home-cooked meals. A world without Sam.

A world without Cas.

He sighed, despair creeping up his neck once again as images of his brother and his angel fought their way to the forefront of his mind. He suddenly felt very alone.

Sleep wouldn't come easy that night.

Actually, it wouldn't come at all.

It might seem like the story is moving a little fast, but worry not, the fun has only just begun. Think of these first few chapters as one big ol' prologue.

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