The realization explodes in his chest with pain and relief. He is not Dean, not the real one. There is another Dean out there, one who stands a chance of stopping this. To figure out what's happening with Cas before - Dean doesn't know before what, but it can't be good.
Dean wants to –

He grabs for Cas' leg as Cas passes, and Cas startles, bends down to Dean, clinging to ruthless irritation.

"Cas", Dean says, more croak than word.

Cas looks at him, lips soft, like he wants to take Dean in, like he could burry his head in Dean's chest and cry. Dean wants to pat Cas' back and make it all better. To figure out that thing inside of him and fix it. Mortifying things Dean would never say, would never allow himself to think.

But he is not really Dean. Almost for sure. He is not Dean, so he can just do whatever he fucking wants to.

Cas moves two fingers towards Dean's forehead, with great effort. Stops before he could touch. Zones in and out, internal struggle.

Dean bullies his less twisted arm into lifting, just a little. Managed tolput it on Cas' face, leans it on Cas' jaw, and the corner of Cas' lips is just as soft as he'd thought it would be. Annoying, to be - Dean could just – if he could move or Cas just moved -

Cas' eyes widen, shocked, blessed, then suspicious. He leans in slowly, like he's dropping, floating, breath coming out of him warm, deflating. So close to Dean -

This is not helping his struggle. Cas closes his eyes, concentrating, but that – but it isn't –

Cas pulls away from Deans hand and looks at it, long and wry. Then, wild and jerky, he moves his own hand away from Dean's forehead.

"You're not really him", he says. Explaining, hoping for forgiveness.

Then everything stops.


I'd love to hear how you came up with the idea of writing from the pov of a duplicate Dean, which I love, and how how you ended up writing D/C. :D Side note: looking at this fic again reminded me that we had an early, 'getting to know you' conversation in the comments, which I'd totally forgotten.