In Any World

A/N This fic is awful, probably full of errors and I'm sure it's been done a thousand times but I had to write it. I hammered this out while drinking my way through a box of wine so I know its bad, but I had to do it. Contains DeanxMisha. Based on 'The French Mistake' episode in S6.

Zephyr

Of all the fucked up things in the fucked up universe Balthazar had banished them to, this was the very worst thing Dean could imagine.

"What do you mean, I'm married?" He hissed at Sam, dragging him behind a 'wall' that was still a work in process.

Sam shrugged his shoulders emphatically and spread his palms heavenwards, a helpless gesture if ever there was one.

"We both are, we have wives and homes and god knows what else." Sam explained, tapping his ring finger where a clear band of pale skin was visible. Dean checked his finger and sure enough, there was the tell-tale sign of matrimony and holidays in the sun.

"I can't have a wife. I don't have a wife! This dude, this Jensen Ackles – stupidest name I ever heard, 'cept for Padalecki – might have a wife but I sure as hell don't." Dean was working himself up, his heartbeat growing erratic. "I don't like this one bit."

"You think I do? I just want to go home, where we're not actors who apparently don't talk off set." Sam found the concept of being anything but a horribly co-dependant brother to Dean worse than the idea of being married.

He watched as Dean visibly grew more and more agitated and quickly clued on to what was happening in his head. In this reality he may not be on speaking terms with 'Jensen' but he was still Sam, not Jared Padalecki (an awful name, he had to admit) and knew his brother better than he knew himself.

"It's not real, you know." He said in an attempt to calm him down. "Look, I know what you're thinking, but none of this is real, and it isn't you who's married, so stop freaking out."

Sighing, Dean rubbed his temples. "I know, but – it just feels wrong. Thinking that in this reality I've been with someone else it just – I just feel dirty, alright?"

"You haven't done anything to feel that way." Sam squeezed his shoulder.

"Just the thought of it sets my teeth on edge. Why did Balthazar have to send us to a place like this? If we had to be in some alternate reality I'd like at least not be cheating on my boyfriend."

With a barely contained smile that translated into his voice, Sam struggled not to hug Dean.

"That's the first time you've called him that." He satisfied himself with saying instead. "You've never actually called Cas your boyfriend."

His brother shot him a warning look. "Yeah, so? Never felt like labelling it. Cas is Cas and I'm me, we just happen to be…"

"Happen to be?" Sam pressed, giving up on containing his grin.

"Happen to be together. In a relationship." Seeing the look on Sam's face, he chose a little brotherly torture to wipe the smirk away. "Just two guys makin' sweet, sweet love, sometimes when you're in the same room and – "

"Aw, dude, come on, that's just gross!" It had the desired effect, Sam's face scrunching up as he backed away, waving his hands as if to dispel the mental image of his brother fornicating with his angelic boyfriend while he slept in the next bed. Sam chose to believe that it had never happened, that Dean was just screwing with him. Dean let him think that, for the sake of his sanity if nothing else.

To distract themselves from thoughts of their other selves' married lives, they set about attempting to fix their own and get away from the awful world they currently languished in. As they navigated their way through the set and dodged questions and conversation with the film crew both felt a potent uneasiness at seeing so many familiar places and objects from their lives as if they were nothing but disposables readily replaced. Which they were, here any way.

If Bobby's study hadn't been strange enough, they passed motel rooms on wheels, places they had spent nights researching or stitching themselves back together again after one fight or another. Everything that was real to them was nothing but props and scenery here and it had them both feeling nauseous.

Neither would admit that the nausea they felt was called homesickness, but a shared look communicated the mutual desire to get the hell back home.

When a familiar trenchcoat-clad angel made an appearance, Sam noted the instantaneous light that illuminated his brother's face.

"Cas! Hey, Cas!" He called out, running to where he stood, simply staring at them, seeming slightly bewildered. "We tried calling you. I thought it didn't work. Man, it's so good to see you, I was freakin' the hell out. What's going on? Why did Balthazar do this?"

Cas looked between the two of them with an expression of earnest confusion, mouth opening and closing, unformed words catching in his throat.

"Sorry, guys, are we rehearsing? I don't remember those lines…" He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out some stapled together bits of crumpled paper.

The sound of two hearts simultaneously dropping should have been audible to all. Instead, it was only visible in their crestfallen expressions, Dean's face a picture of anguish, his eyes full of confliction. Sam felt immensely sorry for him, knowing that Dean had truly thought that it really was Cas and being faced with a lookalike…Sam couldn't imagine how messed up that was for him. Dean looked like he wanted to seize the guy in his arms anyway, or run away crying.

He did neither, snatching the paper from the fake Cas and studying it intently.

"What is this, a script?" He muttered, leafing through it. "What the hell, your name is Misha? Christ, Sammy, I think he beat us both in the stupid frickin' name stakes."

"I don't understand…" 'Misha' looked helplessly on as the brothers abused his script.

"God, even his voice is all wrong!" Dean exclaimed, all of his frustrations pouring out as he collapsed in on himself. "Your accent, your tone, everything's just – it's just wrong! What kind of a name is Misha any way?"

Misha looked about as conflicted as Dean did. "It was a nickname, you know that. Remember? I used to be Dmitri; I changed it to Misha for acting?"

Still appearing as if he wanted to kiss the guy who was the double of his beloved angel, Dean shoved the script back to him.

"Your name was Dmitri and you changed it to Misha? Seriously? Why would you do that? Dmitri's an awesome name." He turned to Sam. "This guy is nothing like Cas."

"Of course I'm nothing like Cas! It's a character! I know you two have picked up traits of Sam and Dean but you've been at this much longer than I have. Six seasons is a long – "

"Are you sure you're not Cas?" Dean interrupted, and Sam grabbed his arm, yanking him away from the startled actor.

"Dean, what are you doing? Of course it's not Cas." He whispered quickly as Dean stared at Misha. "He's an actor who looks like him."

"But it might be. He might just be, I don't know, maybe he just thinks he's an actor – "

"Dean. Stop it. You're being crazy. That's not Cas." Sam insisted, dragging his brother swiftly away from the guy in danger of being molested.

"That's just cruel. Why would Balthazar do that to me? I thought, I mean, he looks just like him, but he's not, and his voice…" Sighing, Dean deflated in seconds. "Let's just get the hell outta here. I can't handle this."

Later, Dean found himself sitting in a trailer that apparently belonged to Jensen. Sam had gone in search of Jared's trailer, both trying to make heads or tails of the lives they'd been thrown into. He had to admit that Jensen had it pretty sweet given that he had a freaky big aquarium full of fancy looking fish and an expensive toy copter he probably called a model helicopter.

Seeing the laptop on the table prompted him to do a little research. Even though it was probably a terrible idea, he googled himself with building trepidation.

Upon learning that his alternate universe counterpart was both a child model and had acted in soap opera's, Dean almost hurled the laptop out of the window. Seeing photographs of himself that had never been taken was about as weird as the time he'd landed himself in a dream world created by that Jin a few years back.

By looking up the TV series that was his life, he discovered that the show was hugely successful and had been running for six seasons, commencing when he and Sam had reunited to search for their dad. He even watched a trailer (or two) and had the bizarre experience of watching his life as a third person party. It was disquieting, to say the least.

In the end, curiosity got the better of him. He was on youtube watching a clip from season four of his life when he looked in the side bar and saw a video named 'Jensen and Misha'.

He clicked it hesitantly.

On the screen he watched himself as Jensen Ackles talking to an interviewer at Comic Con. If everything preluding watching the video had been a whole new level of strange, it was nothing compared to seeing someone in his skin talking about him as if he was fictional.

As Jensen talked about the series, he was distracted. Turning to look behind him, he concealed from the camera what was happening but it was clear enough from what was visible. With a warm feeling in his stomach, Dean watched as Misha kissed the back of his neck and walked away as if nothing had happened. What really got him was the smile that spread across Jensen's face: it was the same smile Cas often had him smiling.

He watched that part of the video on loop, knowing that it wasn't him and it wasn't Cas, but whoever Jensen and Misha were in this world, he recognised that smile any where – it was the smile of love, complete and utter adoration and infatuation.

He leaned back and entered their names into google and turned up a multitude of pictures of the two actors who played him and his boyfriend in this peculiar world. So many images were of the two of them in similar situations, often touching, whether it was caressing each other's faces, hugging or adjusting clothing, they couldn't seem to keep their hands off each other. Not to mention the way they looked at each other. Yet again, Dean recognised those looks.

From what Sam and Wikipedia had taught him, Jensen was married to a woman he didn't care to learn the name of, yet the internet was full of telling images that hinted he had a more than strictly professional relationship with this Misha guy.

It was comforting, in a way. He didn't know the truth behind those pictures or the extent of the relationship the two actors had and maybe it was just wishful thinking, but he liked to imagine that wherever they were, whoever they were, Dean and Cas were meant to be together.

A knock at the trailer door disrupted him from his thoughts. He closed the webpage down and answered it, half expecting Sam, half expecting that Sam would have just let himself in.

Confronted with Misha, he didn't know what to do.

"Uh, hi." He greeted warily. Misha cocked an eyebrow at him and Dean moved aside to let him in.

"What was all that about?" Asked an evidently and justifiably confused Misha. "You guys just took off. I checked with Bob and there were no script changes so I don't know what – "

"Listen, can you just stop, please?" Dean interrupted, finding the situation too much. They stood facing each other and Dean was painfully aware that Misha was wearing Cas's clothing. That damn trenchcoat. He would never be able to look at one without thinking of him.

"Are you alright?" Painful awareness trigger two – when Misha was concerned, his voice dropped lower and he sounded almost like Cas.

"You're wearing his clothes. It's not – we're not shooting, are we, so why are you wearing his clothes?" Dean flustered, unable to treat the man standing in front of him as anything but his boyfriend when he looked, dressed and talked just like him.

"I guess we're pretty much done for the day. Is something wrong? Why are you so upset about the costume?"

"Can you just take it off?" Close to pleading, Dean sighed heavily. "This is so weird." He muttered to himself.

"You want me to take my clothes off?" Misha asked him in an amused voice.

"Yes – no, God, no, that's the last thing I need." He looked about the trailer uselessly, movement dragging his attention back to Misha, noticing that he was indeed removing his clothes but thank God, beneath the coat and suit he was wearing a t-shirt.

"Kinda hot in here any way. You seem pretty flustered, Jensen."

Flustered was the right word for it. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't think straight. A man identical to his boyfriend was slowly tugging his shirt off and folding the clothes he was so familiar with into a pile.

At least he kept his pants on.

"So I was watching some videos, from that thing, Comic Con." Dean began cautiously, but Misha laughed and seemed to forget what had prompted his visit in the first place.

"Yeah, I saw some of them too. We've been made into GIF's and everything, it's kinda awesome, but sorta weird. Those fangirls are pretty obsessed with the subtext of subtext."

It seemed almost appropriate to mention the touching. "Like the, the ah, the touching?"

Misha eyed him with his arms folded and head cocked to one side. "Yeah, like that. Mostly that, in fact, I know that Dean and Cas have this whole fanbase but it seems we do too."

"Dean and Cas have a fanbase?" Dean knew all about fanbases thanks to Becky, but this time it didn't creep him out like it did when he heard about the abomination that was 'Wincest'.

"Pretty big one, actually. It's called 'Destiel'. They, the fans, take a lot of scenes and lines out of context and turn it into something that I'm pretty sure Bob wasn't intending Supernatural to be."

"So Dean and Cas aren't together in Supernatural?" He asked and Misha peered at him curiously.

"You're acting real weird Jensen, are you sure you're ok? You know that they aren't. I think we'd remember acting it, at least I would, I can't say for you. You seem pretty out of it. Are you on something?"

"On something? You mean drugs? God, no." He waved the subject off. "But really, Dean and Cas have this really intimate relationship, I mean they've saved each others asses countless times, Cas is really attached to Dean and because of him is learning what it means to be human and love, whereas Cas is teaching Dean a lot about himself, in particular that he isn't the terrible person he thinks he is…"

By this point Dean was sitting on the table and Misha was leaning against the wall, arms still folded over his chest, watching Dean with a vague fascination.

"I suppose you're right. They do have a certain chemistry, but they aren't together, you know that."

"They have a 'certain chemistry' because you, uh, we act it that way. I mean, the long stares at each other, the constant closeness, the way we're, ah, they're so protective of each other: it makes sense that the fans think that they're together, right?"

"Well, I guess so, but it's just imagination running wild. It's all subtext. I mean Dean is always with women and of course there's Lisa – "

"Lisa? I haven't seen Lisa in years." Dean muttered to himself.

"You mean Cindy?"

"Cindy?"

"Cindy Sampson? She plays Lisa. She's been out of the studio for a while cause she hasn't had any scenes but I know what you mean, when you get used to working with someone and then they're not there – "

"But you agree that Dean and Cas have chemistry? That there's something more there, even if they don't want to admit it."

"Are you a shipper? Oh my god, Jensen, are you a Destiel shipper? That's just…wow, that's weird. I mean, it's just I never thought of you as the type. But they're our characters. Isn't that weird for you? Cause shipping them is almost like shipping us."

"Please, you're the one always touching me." It slipped out before Dean could stop himself. He looked to Misha and saw that he looked more than a little startled and presumed that Jensen and Misha had never really spoken about the excessive touching.

"You do too." Misha said quietly.

"I do?"

Misha gave him a look before sitting on the couch and abducting the laptop. He entered a few words into Youtube and clicked on a video. He beckoned Dean to sit and he acquiesced, sitting next to him, horribly aware that this Misha smelled just like Cas and that they were very nearly touching.

He watched the scene unfold. Misha sat at a table talking to an interviewer while he, Jensen, stood behind him and caressed his cheeks in a joking yet affectionate manner. The clip ran for but a few seconds and Misha clicked the next one, this time showing Jensen adjusting his tie and collar. Dean didn't realise he was smiling until Misha mentioned it.

"Fine, so we're both a little touchy-feely." He coughed, as if that would hide his silly smile. "All I'm saying is, fans are bound to latch onto that kinda thing."

"So we should stop?" Misha suggested, sounding almost a little disappointed. Dean studied him, fighting the urge to touch him right there, even if he wasn't really Cas, he was his mirror image in every way.

"I don't see why, it's just a little fun, right?" Dean watched Misha's reaction. "Why do we do it, any way?"

Misha shrugged. "We just do. Why? I mean, we've never, we don't exactly talk about that."

"Maybe we should." Dean figured he wouldn't be stuck here for long so whatever he said didn't really matter. None of it was exactly real, after all. Once he was back home with Cas he'd never see Misha again.

"Jensen, this is, uh, this is kinda awkward…" He seemed genuinely embarrassed, his skin flushing pink as he refused to look at Dean.

Taking a queue from his instinct, Dean touched the back of his fingers to Misha's face, watching as Misha's eyes blew wide in surprise and his lips parted in shock, before he turned to look at Dean in confusion, questioning him silently. Dean didn't move his hand and Misha didn't move away, that and the look of restrained desire in his deep blue eyes giving Dean all the information he needed.

Carefully, Dean let his hand glide down Misha's neck and to the join of his shoulder, lingering there, his grip gentle but firm. Misha looked quickly at his hand before his eyes went back to Dean's where he continued his silent interrogation.

Why? What are you doing? Why are you doing this?

"Misha, you can't fake that kind of chemistry, no matter how good at acting you are. And once we're off set you don't have to keep it up, but you do. We do." His courage was founded on the belief he'd never see Misha again, otherwise he would stop himself being an ass.

"Jensen…" Misha seemed unable to form the right words, seeming about as conflicted, confused and desperate as a man could be.

Always trusting his instincts, Dean decided to put them to the test. He moved his other hand to Misha's waist and moved slowly towards him, hesitating a moment to give the guy time to pull away if he wanted.

He didn't.

When silent questioning turned to silent permission, Dean pressed his lips slowly to Misha's, arousal rushing through him at the familiar feeling of firm lips and bristling stubble. Though Misha seemed unable to respond, he didn't refuse him, either. When Dean slid his hand up into his hair and used the grip to tilt his head for a better angle, it seemed to finally register with him and he cautiously, like a kid experiencing his first kiss, kissed back.

Though in his mind he understood that it wasn't really Cas he was kissing, his body responded to him as if it was, his senses overwhelmed with everything that was a precise duplicate of his boyfriend. Perhaps that was what made him forget himself, for the experimental kiss to prove his intuition right quickly turned into one of heated passion.

Surprised but not disgusted by the sudden ardour, Misha eagerly responded to Dean's touches and opened his mouth to him, allowing the hand that was on his waist to slip underneath his t-shirt to caress his skin. When they broke for air, Dean's hands stayed where they were, Misha's body singing with heat.

"Are you ok?" He asked the startled actor, who seemed half-awake. His eyes heavy-lidded eyes cleared somewhat and he nodded, touching his thumb to his lower lip.

"That was…different." He said, seeming embarrassed. If it was his first gay experience, then Dean was not remotely surprised. He was taking it better than Cas had at first.

"Good different, or…?" He tested, thinking he should give him some space. Misha looked at him properly, their eyes meeting, and though indeed there was a well of confusion and embarrassment in his lapis lazuli eyes, there was also undeniable arousal. His mouth moved as if to speak but rendered speechless and Dean chuckled, the hand still twined in his hair pulling him forwards to press their lips together again.

It surprised Dean to find that Misha kissed the same as Cas. It surprised him that even here, even as an entirely different person in a completely different reality, this version of Cas was still attracted to him, they were still inexplicably drawn together. He took it in faith as a sign that they were fated to be together no matter where or who they were, 'Dean' and 'Castiel' would always find each other.

They were broken apart when Sam barged into the trailer, taking in Misha's tousled hair, red cheeks and damp lips and shooting Dean a look of reproach but for the sake of Misha if nothing else, he didn't mention it, allowing Misha to make a swift exit after one last meaningful stare at Dean.

"Dude, you can't do that. That's not Cas." Sam chided.

"I was testing a theory." Dean shrugged. "I just kissed him."

"Yeah, but you kissed someone else, kinda."

"Like I said, testing a theory."

"What theory?"

"I figured that Misha was into 'Jensen' and wanted to test it. He is, by the way. It's kinda nice too, y'know, that even in this world, me and Cas are meant to be together. I like to think that wherever and whoever we are we're still – hey, what's with that look?" He cut off upon seeing the sentimental way Sam was staring at him.

"Nothing, it's just…the way you're talking about him, its sweet. You really do love him, don't you?"

"Of course I do, what, you think I was just doin' it for kicks? You can't fake that kinda thing, Sammy." He sighed. "And hell, I miss him. I just want to get back home."

The self-satisfied smile that split Sam's face was telling.

"Well, I think I've fixed that problem." He said just as the trailer door opened. In stepped a familiar angel, and this time Dean was certain it was him.

"Cas! How did you – "

"I don't appreciate you kissing other people even if they are an alternate version of me." Cas was on him in an instant, seizing him by his jacket and yanking him up to shove him against the wall, his lips descending onto his possessively and muffling any reply he might have made. Sam looked away awkwardly.

"It was just – " Dean began but Cas silenced him with another quick kiss.

"I know." Cas smiled. "I heard. But you belong to me, do not forget that."

"Yes, sir." Dean smirked. With a glance at Sam he leaned in and dropped his voice to a whisper. "Do you think we could convince Misha to have a threesome with us?"

The answering look he received was somewhere between surprise, contemplation and the incapability to grasp the concept of being two people at once.

"I think we should go home." Cas replied. "And you can make do with just one of me."

Fin.