A/N Ayyyyyyy chapter 50!!! Hey, let's have a recap of our last 50 chapter markers!

Strings Attached, Chapter 50: Dean and Castiel got together.

Strings Attached, Chapter 100: Dean and Castiel got together. Again. Cuz they broke up.

Fame Crazy, Chapter 50, AKA Strings Attached, Chapter 150: something happens.

This might be really long. It might be really short. All I know is I'm ending this chapter in a specific place, whether it fits my desired approximate word count or not. Enjoy!

Castiel checks his watch for the twentieth time in the last three minutes. 2:50 pm. Just like last time. Great.

Dean had left earlier that morning to help Bobby out at the junkyard; Sabriel disappeared to do something cute together; Adamandriel — still stubbornly 'just friends' — were watching YouTube all day, and Anna went out somewhere with Cain. Bye bye to all the ships. No one really knows where Michael went, but that's not unusual. Lucifer went to the park to play guitar without people bothering him — it seems he really is committed to learning how to play that thing. That left Castiel and Claire, who chatted together for a few hours, which was fun, of course, but you can only talk to one person for so long.

When Dean texted him and said he was almost done at Bobby's, Castiel was thrilled beyond belief. They agreed to meet at the ice cream place a few minutes down the road from the Novaks' house at 3:00. Well, Castiel massively overestimated the drive time, because here he is, almost fifteen minutes early.

Bored, he pulls out his phone and does what he always does when he's bored and doesn't already hate himself — he scrolls through Twitter mentions.

"Idk who @CastielNovak's friend was in his insta pic, but he's almost as hot as Castiel himself!"

Castiel chuckles to himself at that. Well, not a bad start.

"My mom got me @CastielNovak tickets for my birthday today!!! I'm to excited!!!!!!"

Castiel types a quick "Happy birthday!" before moving on.

"Da fuck is up with @CastielNovak's trench coat in this pic? Who the fuck said that was a good idea?" Attached is a picture from the People's Choice awards, where he wore his awesome trench coat.

He usually ignores tweets like this unless he has a funny response, but he refuses to let this go. They can make fun of his looks, they can make fun of his music, but no one makes fun of his trench coat.

He quotes the tweet with, "That thing is a gift from the gods, thank you very much." Okay, so that's not very rude of him, and actually probably comes off as entertaining, but it's a lot tamer than what he was originally going to say.

"Heard @CastielNovak on the radio today and I wanted to puke."

Great. So nice. Not.

"Gracie's always talking about how much she loves @CastielNovak. She's proof our generation is doomed."

Castiel bites his lip and scrolls to the next one.

"I'm so fucking done with @CastielNovak. No one cares anymore, man! Just fucking kys already!"

Usually, this is when he decides to stop, but he's still got forever and a half to kill until Dean shows up, so he keeps reading.

"Found this adorable #Harriel fic on AO3!" Attached is a link to some Harry Styles x Castiel Novak fan fiction that Castiel definitely won't read because it's not on Wattpad.

"Just heard @CastielNovak was originally just gonna be a songwriter. I'd say we lucked out with new Castiel."

Aww, that's sweet. He quotes it with a few hearts.

"@CastielNovak should get off Twitter and learn to sing instead."

Castiel ignores it and moves on.

"For @CastielNovak's birthday in a few weeks, can we get #NoMoreCastiel trending higher than a happy birthday?"

He sighs and scrolls past.

"Proof that @CastielNovak doesn't write his own songs:"

Interested, he taps the first of four pictures with what he's assuming is a detailed explanation of why he can't be the one to write them.

"Everyone loves Castiel Novak because he writes his own songs, but a.) they suck and b.) he doesn't even write them. His label picked him up just after losing their most successful singer. It's common knowledge that she didn't write her own songs, so they obviously have someone on board who also writes music with male pronouns. They picked him up right after because they needed someone to keep them alive, and he had the looks, with the black self hair and the freaky but awesome blue eyes, and they thought that would hold them over until they found some actual talent. That also explains what's up with the girl he kidnapped. He only pretends to be gay so the songs fit him, but in reality, he's as straight as a ruler. That's why his older brother is always talking about how he's gay. Overcompensation. Coupled with the fact that he's literally never had a boyfriend and he makes way too many jokes about Harry Styles, who's always considered the hottest person ever even though he's well past his prime, and I think that's proof enough that his whole career is a fraud."

Before he can stop himself, he goes to the replies and types, "That's not proof, dipshit. You need a lot more than that to call it proof, like for it to be true. How about you get a life and back off mine?"

And moving on, hopefully to happier things...

"Something tells me @CastielNovak is really a spoiled brat who just pretends to be nice for the media."

Castiel debates replying, "Let me guess: the same something told you Trump was gonna Make America Great Again?" because his anti-Trump status is well known and they'd obviously get the point, but he stops himself and moves on.

"I haven't seen a celebrity get as much hate as @CastielNovak since @realDonaldTrump. Really saying something there."

Great. Now he's Donald Trump. How lucky is he?

"Fuck, Marry, Kill: @CastielNovak, @realDonaldTrump, @JustinBieber."

Castiel decides to look at the comments, because there's no way he's worse than Trump, right?

"Can I kill them all?"

"If I kill Cass and DT, can I fuck and marry JB?"

"But I hate them all?"

Castiel sighs. Great. He should just stop using Twitter altogether, because this is essentially all he sees on here now.

As if on cue, his phone rings. Jim Michaels. Well, this better be good.

He answers the call with his typical, "This is Castiel."

"Hey, listen, change of plans," Jim's voice comes through the phone.

"Hi, how are you? Oh, I'm great, thanks for asking," Castiel says sarcastically.

"You have your fans to stroke your ego. I shouldn't have to deal with the small talk, too," he replies. "Listen, so I was talking with someone from the People Magazine, and they want a photoshoot with you."

"Coolio," Castiel replies, because he's apparently turning into Sully. "That all? Great, thanks. Bye!"

"No, that's not all," Jim replies. "I was also talking to Lilith — you know, the talk show host."

"Mm hmm..."

"And basically, September 14, you'll be meeting Lilith, and then September 21 is the photoshoot."

"Can I have days of the week, or...?" he prompts, exasperated. Dates don't help that far in advance.

"Both Wednesdays," Jim replies.

"Uh huh..." Castiel says slowly as he tried to figure this out. "Wait, when did you say this was, exactly?"

"The fourteenth and the twenty-first??" he says uncertainly.

"Of September?" Castiel asks.

"Yeah, why?"

Castiel groans in frustration. "That's supposed to be my two weeks with my family, Jim! I told you to keep them clear!"

"Yeah, but it was the only time that worked, that's what we got," Jim replies.

"What we've got is my two weeks with my family shortened to, what, five days with travel time? And that includes three days of concerts. What the hell, man?"

"Look, Cas —"

"I go pretty much everywhere you tell me to, exactly when you tell me to. All I ask is you leave that two weeks in Sioux Falls alone, and you just decide, what, doesn't matter anymore? Why would I need to see my family again when I just saw them a few months ago?"

"Look, Castiel, I'm trying," Jim tells him. "I can only do so much."

"Yeah, and apparently fucking with me is included there," Castiel snaps, hanging up on him.

He rests his face in his hands in frustration. That was one of the only parts of this tour he was looking forward to — he always likes the first concert, he likes the one in Maryland because he gets to see Aunt Amara and whatever cousins usually show up, and he loves his two weeks in Sioux Falls, from the Monday before to the Friday after his weekend concert. Now, it's more like Thursday to Tuesday.

"Hey, Cas, what's wrong?" Dean asks a few minutes later, sitting down next to him.

"Just Jim fucking everything up again," Castiel replies with a sigh, looking over at him. "Pretty much the usual. So, how's life?"

"Probably better for me than it is you," Dean replies. "So far, my biggest problem since coming back to Sioux Falls is helping Bobby fix up cars, not... whatever it is Jim did. What did he do?"

"Nothing," Castiel replies dismissively. "It's nothing. No big deal."

"Well, it didn't look it when I showed up. Come on. Talk to me. What'd he do?"

Castiel sighs. "He basically halved my time back here during my tour. And for a fucking photoshoot and an interview with some no name. Any other time would be fine, but not my trip back to Sioux Falls."

"Oh. Yeah, I see why you'd be upset about that. That's stupid," he agrees. "You know what'll make you feel better?" he asks with a grin.

"What?"

"Ice cream!"

Without waiting for an answer, he drags Castiel over to the windows where they order their ice cream. It's not a long wait — there are quite a few people here, but the lines move fast.

This probably seems contradictory to Castiel's decision not to eat donuts, but in his defense, ice cream is delicious and Dean is awesome. He only gets a small one, anyway, so it's not too bad, right?

"Chocolate's better," Dean tells him. "Just FYI."

"No way," Castiel replies confidently. "Mint chocolate chip is the best."

"You're lying to yourself, Cas."

"You're lying to me," Castiel counters.

"I believe there's only one way to solve this."

Castiel looks at him expectantly. Dean takes a small spoonful of the other boy's ice cream and eats it. Castiel gasps and mock glares at him.

"Mm, you're right," Dean says. "Mint is awesome."

"Dean!" Castiel whines. "That was my ice cream!"

"Yeah, and?" Dean teases.

"Fine," Castiel pouts, then takes a bigger spoonful of his boyfriend's ice cream. "There. Now we're even."

"Oh, hell naw! Ain't no one eating my ice cream but me!"

Dean takes another spoonful of Castiel's ice cream, and vice versa, which happens until Castiel finally says, "Okay, truce! You eat the chocolate, I'll eat the even better mint ice cream."

"Deal."

*Insert funny cat video to entertain you as they eat their ice cream*

"And we forgot napkins," Castiel observes when they finish eating.

"It's okay," Dean replies. "I'll get it for you."

Castiel tilts his head in confusion when Dean doesn't get up to get napkins, but it makes sense when the he presses their mouths together, not really as a kiss but to lick the ice cream off. Laughing, Castiel pushes him away gently.

"Dean! I told you not to do that!" Castiel scolds him, but he can't keep the smile off his face.

"I couldn't help it! It looked so delicious!" Dean defends himself. "I mean, you always look delicious, but you had ice cream on your lips and I just couldn't help myself."

Castiel just shakes his head at the boy. "Why are you like this?" he asks with an amused smile.

"You love it!"

"Nope, not at all."

"You loved it five years ago and you love it now," Dean says confidently.

"Keep telling yourself that."

"I will, because I refuse to let you ruin my fragile ego," he jokes.

"Fine. I love you very, very much. You are the best person on the history or the planet," Castiel tells him.

"Why do I feel like that wasn't very sincere?"

"Mm, no clue," Castiel jokes. "It's freaking hot out," he says randomly.

"Yes, that tends to happen in the middle of summer in the northern hemisphere," Dean replies teasingly.

"Yeah, yeah, very funny. Come on. Let's go back to my place where there's AC."

"But I like being outside!" Dean protests. "It's beautiful out. It's only... Actually, I think it's, like 97 out, but it's a dry heat so it's still freaking awesome."

"It's 97 degrees out. I'm going to roast to death."

"We're under a tree," Dean reminds him. "You're not going to burn."

"My soul is going to burn," Castiel replies.

"Yeah, right. Like you have a soul."

Castiel gasps in mock offense, pauses, the concedes, "Actually, yeah, that's fair. No, but really. It's hot out. Let's go back to my place."

"Would you rather be hot or surrounded by a bunch of loud dorks?"

"Surrounded by a bunch of loud dorks," Castiel replies without hesitation.

"I love 'em to death, but you have to admit, they're loud and annoying, and I just want to spend time with you without having those weirdos to deal with."

"Then we should've gone out for ice cream when it was under ninety degrees," Castiel replies firmly.

"Well, no wonder you're so hot. Your voice is so cold, there's no coldness to cool off your body," Dean teases.

Castiel death glares him.

"Sorry, sorry," Dean backtracks quickly. "Bad joke."

"No shit," Castiel snaps.

"Okay..." Dean says cautiously. "So, obviously, there's something going on in that pretty little head of yours, because the Cas that I know and love wouldn't think it was that bad. What's going on, Cas? Is it the thing with the tour?"

"It's nothing," Castiel mutters. "Never mind. You wanna stay out here? Fine. Let's stay out here."

"No, this I'm past that," Dean tells him. "What's wrong, Cas? What's got you in such a bad mood?"

"Nothing," Castiel repeats more forcefully.

"I can't help you if you won't talk to me."

"Maybe I don't want your help," Castiel snaps.

"Well, maybe I'm not asking," Dean replies in the same way. "Ever since you found fame and fortune, you've been flipping out over nothing. Now, I don't know if it's stress or if you're just spoiled now or what, but the only thing that's kept me around is knowing the you from five years ago has to still be in there."

"Well, I'm still the same person, so I don't know what you're talking about," Castiel replies in a closed off tone.

"Back then, our biggest 'fight' was when you joked that you would you would have let Hendrickson shoot me instead of Lucifer. I don't think we've gone a single day without fighting since I came back to Sioux Falls. It's like fucking Minesweeper over here, but without the warnings that I'm getting close to a mine. I don't know what's going to set you off anymore."

Castiel waits a moment, then asks, "You done?"

"You —" Dean cuts himself off with a frustrated sigh. "Look, Cas, I'm trying to fix things, before it's too late, but you gotta hear me out."

"I am!" Castiel says defensively. "I don't know what you want me to say, Dean. This is me. I don't know if I'm still the same as I used to be, but this is who I am now, and if you can't deal with that, that's too bad."

Dean just studies him for a moment, then says quietly, "So, that's it, huh? I'm the one who's got fix things between us?"

Castiel doesn't respond. What is there to say, anyway?

"Fine," Dean says. "Consider them fixed, then. We're over. We can't have problems if we're not together."

And Castiel knows he should say something. Anything. Anything to make him stay, to change his mind. And he knows that even just saying that this isn't what he wants will be enough. But he can't find it in him to say anything at all.

When it becomes clear he's not going to say anything, Dean stands up. He pauses a moment, waiting for Castiel to stop him, but he doesn't. Dean scoffs and shakes his head at the boy. Just before walking away, he says, "Remember when you told me to stop being such a dick? Maybe you should return the favor."

Castiel stares straight ahead as Dean walks away. Some logical part of his brain wants him to do something. To stop Dean, to tell him to go, to leave himself. But instead, all he does is bury his head in his hands, just waiting for it all to be over.