"This is so weird," Castiel breathes, looking around in wonder.
"What's weird?" Dean asks, confused.
"It's just, I never go to stadiums like a normal person," Castiel says. "I'm usually parked in the back with a limo and a couple security guards. Now we're in an actual parking lot with all the normal fans."
Dean chuckles. "What a nice, humbling experience."
The have to park pretty far away from the stadium, which is probably more annoying for Dean than it is for Castiel. He crutches along the parking lot, Castiel by his side and watching him carefully.
"Are you sure you don't want to get the wheelchair?" Castiel asks.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Dean says, just slightly out of breath. "What I would like is to have two fully functioning legs, but this is good enough."
They cross the parking lot as quickly as possible, but there's still a bit until the stadium opens, so they have to find something to do while they wait.
"I haven't really walked around here before," Castiel tells him. "What's there to do outside of the stadium?"
"Not a lot," Dean says. "We could go get lunch, I guess."
"Sure?" Castiel says uncertainly. "Is there anywhere good to eat?"
"That's an excellent question that I do not have an answer for," Dean replies. "I'm sure they have some food somewhere. Wanna just walk around and hope for the best?"
"Sounds good to me," Castiel replies. "Lead the way."
~~
They haven't made it very far when Castiel starts complaining, because it's what he does best.
"It's so freaking hot here," Castiel whines. "It's February! Why am I sweating?"
"Oh, I don't know," Dean says sarcastically. "Couldn't have anything to do with the sweatshirt covering literally your entire body."
Castiel rolls his eyes. "But if I take it off, people are going to recognize me."
"Well, yeah, no shit," Dean says. "I'm pretty sure people are already hoping they'll find you here, just 'cause it's my team playing. Now here are two guys walking around, one of which is on crutches. Trust me, the second one of your fans sees your face, it's over for you."
"So what do I do?" Castiel asks. "I'm pretty sure I'm gonna pass out if I keep this thing on any longer."
"You can either leave it on and suffer in the heat, or you can take it off and suffer through the people," Dean says. "It's gonna suck either way."
"So what should I do?" Castiel asks.
Dean shrugs, which looks weird as he's crutching along the sidewalk. "We could go back to the impala and wait in there. No hoodies necessary."
Castiel hesitates. "Are you sure you can make it all the way back to the car?"
"Yeah, sure," Dean says dismissively. "I have killer arm muscles. You just can't tell 'cause I have my flannel on."
"No, trust me, I can tell," Castiel says. "Well, we might as well go back to the car."
"Then let's be as inconspicuous as possible and turn around," Dean says. "Maybe we'll make it to the car in peace."
~~
Eventually, it's time to head in the stadium, and they take their seats all the way in what would be the nosebleeds of a concert, but it's probably not too bad for a football game. They can see the whole field with no problem, even if the people on it are going to be tiny.
Their seats are on the end of a row, which is a blessing and a curse. They can get up and go to the bathroom or go eat food whenever they want without annoying anyone, but it also means anyone can see them. Dean sits on the inside, so his cast is less noticeable. Castiel sits on the outside, just praying that nobody recognizes him.
Castiel rests his head on Dean's shoulder, fighting to keep his eyes open. The game hasn't even started, and he wants to take a nap. This is going to be a long day.
They sit in near silence for a while, and Castiel looks over his shoulder as the older boy scrolls through Instagram. He's missed a lot from his siblings, apparently. He even missed Jack's cat's new Instagram — @TheLordTyrion, full of cat pictures with sarcastic comments, which Dean shows him for a few minutes.
"Mind if we squeeze through here?"
Castiel looks up to see an older man, probably about 40, with three little boys that have to be his sons. They're all wearing hats with matching symbols that have to be the Texas team. Well, that's awkward.
"Oh, sure," Castiel mutters, standing up and moving into the aisle.
Dean pushes himself to his feet and hops back against the folded chair to let them through. "Feel free to step on the crutches. If they don't break, we're all good."
"Oh, you didn't have to get up," the man says, sympathetic now that he sees the cast.
"It's fine," Dean assures him.
The man sits next to him, the three kids on his other side. Castiel sits back down in his seat, but he feels a little more awkward using Dean as a headrest now that there are more people here. He's not sure what to expect from southerners when it comes to gay couples, but he's certainly heard some bad thing.
"I'm Patrick," the man says. "And those are my kids — Pete, Andy, and Joe." Each of the kids gives them a small, shy smile.
"Nice to meet you," Dean replies, and Castiel can't help but notice that he doesn't give his own name. It's a strategy Castiel's used himself a few times, just because his name is so recognizable. Dean must feel the same way in a football stadium.
"Texans fan?" Patrick guesses.
"Not really," Dean replies. "Just kinda here to watch the game."
"Oh, yeah, I get that," Patrick says. "I would go to every game if I had the money. But, I figured, Texans finally made it. Wife's out of town. Might as well bring the kids to their first pro football game, you know?"
"Man, I wish I had a dad that did that," Dean says with a slight smile. "Where's you wife, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Vegas," he replies. "Off spending a week with her mom."
"Well, call me crazy, but I think you're the real winner here," Dean says.
"Oh, god yes," Patrick agrees. "You from Texas, too? Or just here for the game?"
"Little bit of both," Dean says. "I lived here for a few years, but it's been a while. Probably wouldn't have come back if the Super Bowl wasn't here."
"Rooting for the Texans, then?" Patrick asks. "Out of sentimental value, at least? Or even just the 'anybody but the Patriots' mentality that I'm pretty sure most of the country has every year?"
Dean chuckles. "Well, I've lived in New England for a few years, so I've got connections to them, too."
"So this is just a really weird coincidence, huh?" Patrick says, seeming slightly amused. "Both your teams here."
"Yeah, it's crazy," Dean says.
There's a pause in the conversation, which Castiel hopes means he can get Dean's attention back on him instead, but it doesn't work that way.
"What happened to your leg?" Patrick asks, glancing down at his cast.
"Oh, just a sports thing," Dean says dismissively, then quickly changes the subject. "Ever been to a game before? Or is this your first time?"
"Well, it's been a while, but yeah," Patrick says. "I don't think I caught your name. What was it, again?"
"Dean," he replies, and Castiel can tell in his voice that he knows it's over.
"Dean," Patrick repeats. "I don't know a whole lot about the Pats, but didn't Dean Winchester break his leg at last week's game?"
"I believe so," Dean replies.
"But that's not you, right?" Patrick asks. "Just a weird coincidence?"
"No, that's me," Dean says simply.
Patrick scoffs, a huge smile on his face. "No way!"
"Just kinda keep it quiet, okay?" Dean says. "A football stadium is arguably the worst place for me to try to be a normal person, but I'm willing to try."
"Oh, yeah, I totally get that," Patrick says, though both Dean and Castiel know he has no concept of the magnitude of the situation. "It's so cool to meet you."
"You, too," Dean says.
"There are so many things I could say to you right now, and I bet you'd think they're all annoying," Patrick says.
"That's probably true, but you're welcome to say them anyway," Dean says.
"Well, first, what's the deal with your leg?" Patrick asks. "Are you gonna be back next season?"
"Probably not," Dean says. "After that, though, your guess is as good as mine."
"You still coming to all the games, though?" Patrick asks. "Free tickets to every Pats game? I'd take that, and I'm not even a Pats fan."
Dean chuckles. "It's so cute that you think I got these for free. I don't think I'll keep going to the games, though. I've been in enough that watching them isn't quite as thrilling to me as I'm sure it is to you."
"I would have thought that would have made it better," Patrick says.
Dean shakes his head. "No, it kind of ruins the game, honestly. I'll probably just leave the tv on every Sunday and half-watch it."
One of Patrick's kids taps his father on the shoulder, and Patrick leans down to listen to him.
"I'm sure there are a lot of people on the WiFi right now, Andy," Patrick says. "You're not going to get very good service when it's this crowded."
Andy just pouts.
"Hey, get your brothers' attention, will ya?" Patrick asks.
Andy taps his brothers' shoulders and points at his father. They all look up from their various electronic devices to look at him.
"Y'all know what team the Texans are playing against, right?" Patrick asks in the infamous Little Kid™️ voice.
The three boys just nod.
"Well, this —" Patrick gestures to Dean, "is the quarterback of that team."
All three of their jaws drop when he says that, and Castiel can't help but smile to himself. He may not know what that title means, but the kids must, because they look amazed.
"Hi, guys," Dean says with a friendly smile. "I'm Dean Winchester."
The kids just stare at him in shock.
After a long pause, the oldest of the kids asks, "Shouldn't you be with your team?"
Dean shakes his head. "I broke my leg, so I'm not playing today."
"Oh."
That seems to be it from the kids, who must be pretty shy to not freak out at the NFL player sitting next to them.
"What are you doing after you get home?" Patrick asks. "There can't be a whole lot you can do to get ready for your next season if you can't walk."
Dean shrugs. "I'm basically going to try to be a normal person for a while. I got no idea if it'll work, but it's worth a try."
"Well, good luck with that," Patrick says. "You probably shouldn't have played so well if you didn't want everyone to know your name."
"I'm pretty sure that wouldn't have changed much," Dean says, glancing at Castiel as if he can't help it.
"What do you..." Patrick trails off when he notices Castiel. "Oh, right, you're that one."
Castiel rolls his eyes and props his head up on his hand, looking the other direction. Silly him, thinking Patrick knew they were together and just didn't care. What a nice welcome to the Bible Belt.
"Oh, Texas," Dean says with a sarcastically sentimental sigh. "How I've missed your conservatism."
"I'm not saying it's a bad thing," Patrick says quickly. "Just, you know, you don't hear it so much, especially in football."
"Mm, okay," Dean says, clearly not believing it.
All Castiel can think now is that Dean must be glad he doesn't live in Texas anymore.