|Still Pride| A/N: This will be a longer chapter ;) you're welcome...
Due to my low muscle mass, Dean takes the small child from my arms and pulls him close to his chest. It isn't very surprising that children enjoy him a lot more than they do me. He grew up taking care of his brother while I was the one getting taken care of by my brothers, and what's not to like about Dean?
"Hey, little guy we're gonna take you to your parents. It won't be long," Dean whispers into the boy's ear as he nestles innocently into the crook of Dean's neck. We still have yet to find out the identity of the child, but we've neared the office to the convention center and I'm not ready to give him up yet. He's grown on me.
In hopes that I didn't lose Dean in the crowd, I latch my hands into his and hold on for dear life. Despite how I've been trying to act, I'm still absolutely terrified that someone might find us out because of me not playing my part. I just don't understand how Dean can be so casual and relaxed about this whole thing. It's like he doesn't even have to pretend him to love me, he just does whatever it takes.
From behind, I can see the boy peeking at me from over Dean's shoulder with wide eyes. It's almost unsettling how much he reminds me of my younger self. When I would spend the night in Gabe's room when it would storm, I'd wake up the next morning curled against him. He never really cared much, but my last girlfriend was never much of a touchy-feely person so thunder was always terrible for me. I'm just glad that it hasn't hardcore stormed since I moved it. I don't know what I'd do if it did.
He occasionally looks back to make sure I'm still close behind even though my hand is still encased in his. I'm so focused on following his feet so I don't even notice when we make to the "lost kid return".
Standing impatiently at the door is two female-presenting human beings. I don't want to make assumptions, especially in a place where anyone can be anything. When they see us with who I assume is their son, they get an instant look of relief. I take a second to look them over as they rush towards Dean and I.
The one in the lead is tall and lanky as though she was stretched out in a taffy puller. I would estimate around 5'9. Her long face is framed by shoulder-length blonde hair that rests in ringlets. Stormy gray eyes of worry and fear are framed by mascara and eyeliner that's sharper than my IQ. She's not unattractive and to a gay, that means good looking.
Trailing behind her is a shorter and has a little extra weight, but she's still what I would consider pretty with dyed black hair and a stud piercing on the left side of her nose. Bright red lipstick coats her mouth and matches her knee-length cami-dress. Her calf hosts a tattoo of a rose with a ribbon around the stem. I make out the words to be the name Graice.
"I assume this is your son?" Dean asks motioning to the now sleeping boy clinging tightly to his tee-shirt. The taller lady, who I assume to be Graice, is the one to answer.
"I'm so sorry! We turned around to look for my wife's purse and he must've seen the car on your float and followed," she explains hurriedly as though she doesn't need to breath.
"It's not your fault, dear. I was supposed to watch him."
Dean's hand leaves mine to wake the boy and set him down. I notice how much he doesn't look like either of the women, but I decide it's best not to say anything. Turns out it was the right choice. On the strap of the dark-haired lady's purse is a pin I recognize as the asexual flag and realize he was probably adopted. That doesn't make him any less loved.
"It was really no problem. He was adorable," I suddenly speak out, not realizing that the boy was staring up at me again until he tugs at my shirt. His piercing blue eyes stare up into my own like deep pools of ocean water. Bending down to meet the small child, I realize how small he actually is. He's only a little taller than my knees.
When I reach his height, he quickly wraps his tiny arms around me and squeezes tightly. "Dank you, Angel." For a moment I am slightly confused but I think back and recall Dean's words from earlier. 'He called me an angel... he must think that's my name.'
I decide that it's best not to correct him and respond, "You are very welcome."
Standing up, I catch the end of Dean's conversation with his parents.
"I really hope that Alex wasn't too much trouble for you," Graice says taking him into her own arms. "I know he can cause problems sometimes."
"Oh, it was really no problem. I love kids and Cas is great with them," he beams. 'That's quite the lie, but okay.' The lady looks from me to Dean and a sudden look of realization crosses her face.
"Oh my god... you're those Youtubers everyone's talking about!" I give her a small smile and her face lights up.
It's then that the other mom that speaks up, "God, now I feel really bad..."
~~~
We finally manage to hand Alex over to his parents and realize that our meet and greets start in a little under ten minutes. Dean hasn't really said much since we left the happy family of three. Although his arm is snaked around my waist with his fingers dangerously close to my "no-no square".
I try to ignore the thoughts that run rampant through my head and put them off as a coincidence. After all, he's lost so deep in his own thoughts that he never notices the hundreds of looks we get from the crowd around us.
"Hey... Dean... do you think anyone notices?" I ask, implying to our lack of affection, besides his hand near my...
"What do you mean?" he asks placing a quick kiss to my forehead and pulling me even closer. 'I take that as a no.' Being slightly unprepared for the warm feeling spreading in my chest, I find myself staring at his lips, wanting more. 'If only I knew they'd return the feeling.'
We're getting close to the place for our meets and I'm ready for everything to begin. This is the one thing I'm most excited and terrified for. I want to meet new people, but I also don't want to ruin anything. I'd like to say I'm still in it for Dean, but my selfish heart says otherwise.
He leads me carefully towards a table with ropes in front of it making a large line. The table is draped in a black table cloth with multiple colored sharpies spread over the fabric. Neatly folded paper name tags sit in front of two seats with our names printed upon them. I take this is the place where we're going to meet all the fans.
"Security won't let people start lining up until five to ten minutes before so we have a good twenty minutes to talk if you'd like," Dean smiles taking a seat to the left of me where his label sits in front of him. I copy him, except in my own place and fidget with the gold marker in front of me.
"How many people do you think are going to ask us really personal questions about our relationship?" I wonder out loud, expecting him to answer. Out of the corner of my eye, he shrugs.
"I dunno. Probably a lot."
"What if I don't know how to answer? I really don't want to-"
Dean quickly cuts me off. "How about a signal, hmm? If you get uncomfortable or want me to answer the question if it's directed towards you, tap my leg three times under the table. There's a cloth so no one will notice. I'll give you five seconds to make up your mind and if you don't answer, I'll just take over anyways. It'll be fine."
I nod in response and grip the edges of my seat. "What's the worst thing you think they'll ask us?" He doesn't answer immediately which heightens my anxiety, but I remind myself of the signal. 'I just have to remember to tap if I'm nervous.' Dean doesn't seem nervous in the slightest and it reassures me a bit.
When he finally answers, it calms me even more. "Well, in most of the videos we aren't too clingy so I'd assume most people would just ask for a quick kiss for pictures, but they'll most likely only be on the cheek." I exhale a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding. 'Hopefully, this won't be too bad.'
~~~
Just as I thought, Dean's perfect at acting. His arm takes its favorite position around my waist and our chairs have found their way to be side to side. We've only been meeting people for the last hour and I'm already more comfortable in our circumstance.
I finish signing my scrawled name in silver ink across one of Dean's tee-shirts, marking my "i's" with tiny hearts. The young lady practically shines with happiness as Dean gives her a long hug. I copy him only I'm not tall enough for my chin to sit on her head. She quickly spurts out her thanks and Dean flashes one of his killer smiles at the next person in line.
He's obviously extremely anxious and I don't blame him. His dark green eyes never meet ours and he tucks his hands into his pockets. As he nears the table, he attempts to close off his body and his breathing shallows. I can recall the exact feeling where it seems everyone is watching and you don't want to make a mistake. Before I can attempt to calm him, Dean takes over the situation as though he's dealt with it thousands of times.
"Hey, how are you doing?" He stands from his seat and offers a hand. The fan accepts it with a weak nod but still refuses to meet his eyes. I can practically feel his worry radiating off of him. Dean doesn't hesitate and asks, "Would you like to do a private session? I know this can be stressful."
"Are you sure?" the boy's soft voice sounds. He's got quite the Midwestern accent and I can only assume he comes from a small town where it's a lot slower paced. Sioux Falls was the same way, so when we moved I was very similar to him.
"Yeah. I've been wanting to get out of here anyway. Kinda too noisy if you ask me," Dean makes a show of being calm and collected. 'He seems like he's been preparing for something like this? Did he think that someone might have a panic attack and want to be ready?'
I slowly follow him into the photo op room and hear as the line audibly groans. Dean ignores them so I decide to give them a little reassurance. "Don't worry we'll be right back!" I smile and wave happily. It seems to cheer some of them up, but there are still a few who seem overly annoyed.
I'm the last into the photo room and as I close the door, I hear Dean asking the photographer for a moment of privacy. Once it is just the three of us in the room, the fan visible becomes more comfortable. Dean has taken a seat in the middle of the floor, his legs crossed and gesturing for both him and I to sit down with him. I oblige and the fan follows.
"So what's your name?" Dean asks, clearly trying to distract from the awkwardness of the room. Part of it comes from me since I'm about as socially capable as a duck among a group of eagles.
He hesitates, but sucks in a breath and hurriedly replies, "Miles." His voice comes out as a squeak which I find cute, but also find inappropriate to mention.
"Hi Miles," I smile brightly, attempting to calm him. "It's very nice to meet you." He gives me a slight twitch of the mouth then pulls a piece of paper out of his bag and slides it towards me.
"Can- could- will you sign this please?" he stutters out. I nod and take the paper from his hands expecting it to just be a photo of Dean and I, and that's what I mistake it for until I actually get a good look at it.
It's a beautiful hand-drawn portrait of me and Dean from our Truth or Truth video. I'm taken aback at how realistic it looks. The pencil strokes are neatly blended and I can count every freckle on Dean's face. "Oh my god..." I whisper out, amazed at his talent. "You really want me to sign this? I don't want to ruin it..."
He nods, a smile finally breaking through. "Y-yes. Please?"
I look down to gaze at it again and I just can't fathom how much it looks like a photo. "This is beautiful." Miles hands me a silver marker with a happy grin. I can't believe he wants me to sign something as perfect as this, or that he'd even spend time drawing something like this.
Smiling, I neatly sign my name across my half of the photo with a few words of advice for him. This is beautiful! I hope you continue this amazing talent. Always keep fighting -Castiel Collins.
~~~
"Did you enjoy yourself?" Dean asks climbing into the passenger seat of the Impala after setting the boxes of art and fan-gifts in the back.
"Yeah. It was great," I answer shortly. I can't get the image of Dean handling Miles out of my mind. He was so composed and ready for it. 'There's no way that he looked up how to deal with panic attacks after mine... was there?'
Dean sighs and places a cassette into the reader of the Impala stretching out his arms as he does so. A low groan escapes his lips as I hear bones cracking. "Tomorrow should be pretty good too. Mostly just a panel and photo ops if I heard correctly. They've changed the agenda so much that the director can barely remember what she had originally planned for tomorrow." He smirks as though he knows some sort of fourth-dimensional knowledge.
"Yeah. That'll be fun," I respond. 'What if he did try to prepare for my next attack? He doesn't even know why I have them...'
Rock music begins to spill from the car's speakers and I start the long process of trying to escape from the parking lot. Dean's lips mumble along to the words while my mind races at what I should do. "Did I make you uncomfortable?"
I jerk to stare at the boy sitting next to me. His styled hair points up and his eyes are wide with worry. "What? No. Why would you think that?"
He quirks an eyebrow, "You seem distant."
"How do you mean?" I question, well aware of what he's talking about.
"I mean- nothing. You just seem like you're thinking about something that's making you distraught," he explains, resorting to scrolling through his phone. The sunlight shining through the front window reflects off the glitter magically glistening across his cheeks and I think about how it would be the perfect opportunity to get a picture for my account, but maybe this isn't the right time.
I decide it would be best to give him a straightforward answer. But I don't. "I was thinking about Miles and Alex."
"What you want kids?" Dean jokes but backpedals to a more serious tone. "Yeah. They reminded me a lot of you."
I produce a small smile, which I've found to be the case far too many times today. "How so?"
"I don't know." I roll my eyes knowing that it was an obvious lie, but what else am I supposed to say?
~~~
The hotel is a lot nicer than I expected, especially for being as cheap as Dean said it was. There's an indoor and outdoor pool. A huge lobby with benches surrounding a fountain. Glass elevators, which spark some anxiety thinking about riding in. It's basically a town inside of a building.
"How can I help you?" A young lady sits at the receptionist desk providing keys and maps for each of the guests. Her personality is bubbly and happier than I could have ever imagined, especially for working in a place where you deal with snobbish rich people 24/7.
"Hi. We have reservations under Ackles," Dean says pulling his credit card out of his wallet, preparing to prepay for the room. We're both thrown from what we're doing when a high pitched squeak emerges from the girl's mouth.
"OMG! You're- it's- you- Dean and Castiel..." Dean instantly "puts on" his personality and snakes his hand into mine before I even think about it. I grin and give a small wave as usual. 'It's just another fan.'
"The one and only," Dean smirks, pulling back his card. He must have decided that using his card with his real name wasn't the best idea. Instead, he pulls out cash that he'd been preparing to use for meals.
"I didn't believe it when you said that you were dating someone, but here he is! Oh my god, I can't believe I'm talking to you! My friends aren't going to believe this!" she shrieks, earning some displeased glances from other guests.
I offer her a picture to which she squeaks again and I find myself torn away from Dean while she maneuvers her way into the middle of us. Regardless, I still smile as Dean presses the shutter button and hands her back her camera. It's then that she finally pulls up our room.
"Okay, I've got this all set for you guys. You're on our top floor with room 1967. Our honeymoon suite complete with a jacuzzi and balcony overlooking the city. Complimentary towels and shower supplies can be found in your bathroom. If you need anything at all, don't hesitate to call."
With a smile and quick hug, Dean takes our key and starts his way towards the elevator. There aren't very many people out and about, but it's also eleven-thirty at night so most sane people are probably asleep.
We step into the elevator and he presses the button to go to the 19th floor. I avoid looking down into the glass floors of death by fiddling with my yellow suitcase. Dean just inspects the gears and wiring as we make our ascent into the sky. The elevator music is not pleasing in the slightest.
My mind still wanders over the decision I took so long to make in the car. No matter how difficult or tiring I was to deal with, Dean has been there with every chance he could. I've put off doing this long enough. It's time to tell him.
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A/N: Alright... I know that I said Dean's POV would be in this chapter (don't get mad) but I didn't think I was going to take this long to get to this point and I've been writing for at least two hours already...
I PROMISE ON MY FAKE BOYFRIEND/(or girlfriend cause who knows ;) THAT HIS WILL BE IN THE NEXT CHAPTER!
Also- the next chapter is going to be extremely hard to write seeing as I've never dealt with it before and I've been dreading hurting my babies :( there is gonna be a lot of triggers and angst but I promise I'll even it out with FLUUFFFY CONNTENTTT!
Anyways that's all.... tell me what you think so far/ what you like and dislike! I love hearing your comments!
Also love you guys- I'm telling you right now that I was planning on deleting this but I honestly love it too much now and I've grown attached to all of you readers <3 you're all lucky I'm softhearted...