A/N: And yep, I use some of Jensen's songs in this. Thank god I'm not trying to get this published.

Everything was too loud. Castiel had expected that, but mentally picturing it and then being a part of it were two different things. He knew that now, once he was mixed in with a bunch of screaming fans. It didn't help that he was self-conscious about his outfit — a T-shirt that was too tight, and ripped jeans that were just the same (he'd tried for the leather jacket, but it was too expensive for only wearing it once). Thankfully, no one seemed to be paying great attention to him, even though Meg had mussed up his dark hair.

"You having fun?!" she screamed in his ear after grabbing him and making him lean down.

"Is it supposed to feel like I'm dying?!" he shot back sarcastically.

Dean Winchester was on the stage that had been set up in the stadium, guitar bleeding out music beneath his passionate fingers, and he sang like it might be the last thing he'd ever do. Dean had been keeping up this energy since the first song, and now with this one there were even trumpets and violins involved from the other musicians on stage.

Castiel hated to admit it, but the music was actually good. It borrowed themes from the genre of music he so dearly loved, and it made it new, even made it honest. And real instruments were too good to hear in this day and age.

He lost himself till a song change, and everyone seemed high with ecstatic breathlessness as they waited for the next song.

It took a bit for Castiel to get into it, but soon he could feel the lyrics, and he thought Meg might've been singing along next to him. Dean's voice took over the stadium.

"Sometimes I feel, sometimes I feel, / Like I've been tied to the whippin' post! / Tied to the whippin' post, tied to the whippin' post! / Good, lord, I feel like I'm dyin'!"

Wow, he was good, but that didn't mean Castiel was going to give in to all the fuss. From where they were Meg surely couldn't see him that well (came with being short), but Castiel had a great view.

This asshole is so full of himself.

Castiel checked himself, knowing there were a few cognitive distortions in his thinking, and really there was no point in being mean.

But how could Dean Winchester not seem full of himself? He smiled, he galavanted around the stage like he owned the world, and he accepted the fans' praise like it was expected of them.

A modern day rock god.

As Castiel found himself moving his hips to the music, watching the way Dean took off his cowboy hat and threw it into the crowd, he began to wonder a few things. What did so much praise do to your mentality? Was Dean okay?

Stop it. Why does it matter?

He didn't like him. No, he didn't like him. His too-white, straight teeth were annoying, as was his perfectly styled brown hair, and his bright eyes were filled to the brim with narcissism. That's what it had to be. Or maybe it was delight. And those muscles; annoying. Castiel had muscle too. What made Dean Winchester so special?

Another song started, a cover of "The Joker" and no, no, it was not better than the original.

Ridiculous.

Meg shifted into him, hip jutting hard into his thigh, and he looked down.

"Stop ruining it!" she yelled. Castiel looked at her in alarm, and she practically got on top of him to reach into his ear and yell, "Your face! Stop thinking!"

So Castiel did just that, trying to let the music take him as time passed in an adrenaline-rushed allegro. Still, he bristled with some tension he wasn't sure he understood.

The pace, the excitement, the tone, shifted, relaxing with the next strums of Dean's guitar as he started a new song. Phones came out, flashlights getting turned on, and the crowd began to sway back and forth as one. Meg, arm around Castiel's waist, was doing the same thing, trying to push him into the tempo.

Dean began to sing after long, beautiful chords were held out, his voice earnest, even desperate: "Hold the day / Make it through and fall into the light / All the way / A carnival of causes and delight."

The audience seemed as if they were all going to swoon, and Castiel, getting lost in the lyrics, thought maybe he'd have a similar reaction. Or, at least, he felt his heart tugged towards the stage, his body only knowing the music.

But god, it was too hot in here, too sweaty, too full of humanity. And Dean Winchester seemed inhuman to the point of frustration up there on that stage, lights shining down on him.

Don't think too much, don't think, don't think.

"Because we can't become / Victim of a sum / Cradle our desire / To keep from drowning!"

Drowning. Castiel knew the feeling right now. Everyone pressed in too tight, the flashing lights too much, and he sorely wished he was at home reading a book. Not here, not in this drowning mass of adoration for someone he didn't even know.

"To keep from drowning! / To keep from drowning! / To keep from drowning!"

The music softened.

"Hold the day! / Oh, we pray / To make it through the night."

That's what Castiel had to do, make it through tonight. Then it'd be over.

A/N: Please let me know what you think! I hope you're having fun with it like I am.