Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Hey, Jensen. I'm glad I caught up with you." Filming had paused for some reason that Dean hadn't caught, and he was helping himself to the spread set out for the crew. They might have been crazy for making his life into a TV series, but damn they knew their food.

Dean turned to the woman who'd spoken. His grimace was masked by the mouthful of food filling his cheeks.

The woman looked around. "Actually, I was hoping to catch Jared, as well."

"He's, uh..." Scanning the place for EMF. "Manscaping."

"Right, right. Well, I just wanted to get your opinion on the casting for the flashback show we're doing."

This, Dean had to see. The show had lucked out in that this Jensen dude looked just like him. But what were the chances there was also a teenage doppelganger of his running around? Dean set his plate down.

"This is Brandon," said the woman, handing over a couple of pictures. One was a headshot, and the other was the kid in full Dean regalia. Dean was pretty sure the shirt the kid was wearing was still in his duffel back in the real world.

"No," Dean said. This kid was way too pretty. Dean's hair had never been that blond. That long. Hell, it even had streaks in it. And his eyelashes were way too long and thick and dark. Was the kid wearing make-up? Did he have those pouty duck-lips? No.

"No?" the woman repeated. "We all thought he was perfect. We used some old footage of you from Days of our Lives as reference." Just when Dean had forgotten what his doppelganger had put his poor face through.

"Sure there's some resemblance. But that kid's not me-- I mean, Dean. What else have you got?"

The woman clutched her folder of pictures close to her chest and looked at Dean over her glasses. "You do know that you're not the casting director and without me, you wouldn't have a job, right?"

Dean slathered on the charm. "I know and I'm not trying to do your job for you." Even if Dean would obviously be much better at it than this woman. "But you asked for my opinion and as a potential viewer, I want you to know I'm not buying it."

She nodded seriously and loosened her grip on the folder. "Okay. So tell me what you think of Brock."

Dean liked Brock a whole lot already. Brock was a good, strong, manly name. Dean took the pictures and went over them carefully. Brock did bear a resemblance to Dean. He looked more the way Dean remembered himself: shorter, darker hair, intense eyes, and good-looking enough to attract any teenage girl without looking like a member of a boyband. "Now that's Dean." Dean almost didn't mind the thought of this guy playing him on the TV show. Almost.

"So that's a yes from Jensen."

"Yep."

"How long do you think Jared's going to be? I want to get his opinion on Sam."

"A while," said Dean. "Can I take a look?"

"Oh, you know who he is. We're bringing Colin back. Remember?"

"Of course," said Dean. "But I haven't seen him recently."

She handed over the full body shot. The kid did look like Sam, but if Brock and Brandon were playing Dean, Sammy at the corresponding age would have been a hell of a lot taller. He hadn't exactly turned into a sasquatch overnight.

"When is this set, again?"

"1997. So Sam would be fourteen."

Sam's twelve-year-old growth spurt had been a rude awakening for Dean. While Dean had had hope that he would still be the taller brother, by the time Sam was fourteen, it was pretty clear that it wouldn't be the case. Dean had to refrain from laughing.

"You see it, don't you? Much as we love Colin, I'm not sure he's appropriate for the time frame. I was going to show--"

"No," said Dean, unable to contain his grin. "Stick with Colin. He's perfect."

"You don't think he's too short?"

"No, no. Why mess with a good thing?"

"So that's a yes on Colin. Okay. Right, well, thanks for your time, Jensen."

"It was my pleasure."

It was too bad they weren't going to be around to see that play out. Sammy's face would be priceless. Good thing Dean had swiped the photograph.

Sam came back ten minutes later. "Everything's clean," he said.

"Hey," said Dean. "Check this out." He thrust the pilfered picture at Sam.

Sam squinted at the photo he was holding. "Why am I looking at some kid?"

"They're starting a flashback episode soon," Dean cackled. "That's you, age fourteen."

Sam's bitchface was priceless. Epic. The stuff of legends. This was totally worth the magic-free trip. "Dean," said Sam, all affronted seriousness. "We have to get out of this place right now."

"Don't worry Sammy," Dean said, clapping his hand to Sam's shoulder. "I've got you covered."