Chapter 1: THE FATHER
Notes:
And I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you for ever;
John 14:16, King James Version
Chapter Text
The house on the lake was rustic, a two-story wooden structure built in 1947. It was set near the shoreline where the soil was slowly crumbling into the water day after day. Castiel estimated theyād have approximately 180 years until the erosion started to become a danger to the house itself. It was very probable none of them would be living here by then and it was an adequate home to raise a child, turned beautiful by the way Kellyās eyes had lit up when she first saw it.Ā
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āIt reminds me of my parentsā cabin on Lake Superior,ā sheād said when theyād first arrived, eyeing the cabin from the truck. āWe went there every summer growing up.āĀ
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Kelly had told him a little about her parents and her childhood over the weeks theyād been on the run together--nights holed up in motel rooms that looked far too similar to the run-down places Castiel had visited previously; days driving along the highways that lined this country or stopped dead still in city traffic. It had helped the time pass and it had brought Kelly comfort, at least until she reached the end of her story and realized all over again the now incredibly finite span of her life. Everytime, Castiel had longed to comfort her and everytime he hadnāt known the words. He wasnāt good with using words to communicate with humans; his meaning always seemed to get lost somewhere between the words passing his lips and reaching their ears, even after all these years. He wasnāt very good at body language either; spending so much time with the Winchesters meant he knew the value of a crushing hug when one returned from the dead, or the grip of hands on flesh when one was dying, but he was flailing in the dark without a guide outside of those situations.Ā
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So in those moments when Kelly leaned towards despair, Castiel offered her what he always wanted when he felt lost or afraid or uncertain and simply laid his hand, palm up, on the seat between them. Kelly took it every time.Ā Ā
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It would be a comfort to Kelly, he knew, to envision her child growing here in a place so similar to one sheād loved when she was a child herself. That made the decision to stay simple.Ā
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They didnāt have much to bring in from the truck only the small amount of clothes and supplies Kelly had accumulated in her last months on the run. All of Castielās belongingsāhis truck keys, his cell phone (long turned off and SIM card removed and destroyed, just as Dean had taught him after one too many Jason Bourne movies), Jimmyās stolen and dog-eared wallet with a picture of Claire and Amelia tucked in the insertāfit securely in his pockets. The mixtape stayed in the truckās tape deck, safe.Ā
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āWhere did you find this place?ā Kelly wondered, following Castiel up the stairs to the bedroom on the right. He put her bag at the bottom of the bed before taking her elbow to help her sit on the mattress.Ā
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āA friend showed it to me, a long time ago,ā he said, remembering the days heād been bored at the hospital, liable to fly off at any moment. Meg had usually tried to nudge him in some direction, presumably so she could track him more easily or be sure heād come back. Sheād shown him this place, a safehouse that only she knew of, put away some thirty years back when the old man whoād owned it had died.Ā
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āNo one else seemed to want it,ā sheād said, shrugging her shoulders. āOne possessed lawyer later and here we are. Home sweet home.āĀ
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His memories from that time were hazy; his true form had been scattered from the Leviathan, from assuming Samās burdens, shot off in so many incomprehensible directions he couldnāt find a way or the will to bring them back. The part of his mind that occupied his vessel seemed to shift day to day, resulting in a muzzy recollection at the best of times and outright gaps at the worst. He remembered Megās face in the sunshine, her true face twisting underneath in a way that had come to be oddly comforting rather than sickening. Other than that, the only thing that really stuck was the location of the house and that it seemed nice, although he suspected that assumption may simply have come from the company and the bees that milled around the wildflowers nearby.Ā
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Kelly looked at him sympathetically, rubbing her hand on her belly. She must think he meant the Winchesters, he realized. Or maybe she recognized the muted grief in his face, worn over so many years but still present, just like the shoreline outside. In any case, she didnāt ask; instead, she patted the bed beside her in a gesture heād learned years ago meant a bid for him to sit. He did so and she took his hand.Ā
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āI was thinking the room down the hall would make a good nursery,ā she said.Ā
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They spent the days up to the childās birth making the house the home Kelly wanted. Castiel shepherded her to and from the store in the nearby town, picking up all manner of items - furniture, groceries, decorations, infant essentials. Human children needed many things, heād learned over the past weeks, poring over parenting books while Kelly was sleeping. He wasnāt sure how much that knowledge would apply to a nephilim, especially one of this childās power. The only nephilim heād ever really interacted with was the one heād killed for Metatronās spell but that was the child of a seraph, not an archangel. There was really no telling if the child would need any of the things they were accumulating.Ā
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But this process wasnāt just for the child, Castiel had come to understand. It was for Kelly as well. She knew, just as well as he did, that as the birth of her child approached, so did the time of her death. She would never meet her child, never hold him, or teach him right from wrong. All of that would be left to Castiel.Ā
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This house, the life Kelly was trying to ensure for her child within it, it was her gift to him. Castiel would not take that away from her, not even by voicing the simplest of questions.Ā
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And so, he unloaded the truck after each trip, helped Kelly select paints for the mural she had planned for the nursery, and stepped outside when she requested solitude, a laptop clutched in her hands. It was the least he could do.Ā
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He had left Kelly upstairs, paint brush in hand and a smile on her face, and stepped out into the sunshine he always found so rare in this region. That wasnāt always the case anymore, especially during summer time when the sun beat down and the wildfires raged across the continent. He could still remember hundreds of years before, when the forests were still untouched by industry, and humans had not yet begun poisoning the planet on which they lived. So much could change in such a short amount of time, he marvelled, closing his eyes against the sun on his face. He himself was a sign of that.
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He felt something creep into his awareness, a twist in the stitching of the universe that heād never felt before, like a seam coming undone. He opened his eyes and frowned at the twisting streak of light before him.Ā
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It was like a pillar of pure energy. No, he corrected himself as he approached it, it was a rip, as if someone had pushed their hands through the fabric of space and time, got a good grip, and pulled.Ā
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He circled the tear carefully. Heād never seen anything like it, not in all the long years of his existence. But something about it still felt familiar, almost soothing.Ā
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It was creation, he realized, pure and true as it had been many millions of years ago when the universe was still new. Divinity and opportunity and grace. It felt exactly the same as the energy that he could feel pouring off of Kelly, ever since they clasped hands at Heavenās gate.Ā
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It could only be a sign of the childās impending birth. Heād known a nephilimās birth brought omensāswarms of insects, unnatural weather patterns, possibly even natural disasters. Heād been expecting this childās birth to bring something along those lines, but several magnitudes more powerful. This was beyond anything he could have imagined.Ā
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There would be no hiding now, he thought blankly, not with something like this. Any supernatural being would be able to feel something of this magnitude. Even a hedge witch probably could, although they might not understand what it was. But any demon, any angel, would know that something powerful was coming into being. And any who desired to possess such power would come running.Ā
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They would not be able to stay here, he and the child. Kellyās preparations had been for nothing.Ā
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Then he heard the rush of wings behind him, felt the bloom of festering divinity, and all thought disappeared under the sharp burst of panic.Ā
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His brother, as always, was unmistakable. A pillar of exquisite divinity, beyond magnitude, seething and compressed to ride beneath human skin. And a creeping foulness, accompanied by a chill that stretched over planes of existence. Castiel would have known that presence anywhere, even before he shared a vessel with him.Ā
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āCas,ā Lucifer said, fixing him with a smirk. His voice curled around Castielās name, turning it into something hateful. āWhy am I not surprised to find you here?āĀ
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Before Castiel could speak, the door to the cabin banged open; Kelly appeared in the doorway, streaks of paint across her cheeks and dotting her hands. She froze when she spotted them, worry twisting to fear.Ā
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āAnd Kelly. The woman of the hour,ā Lucifer said, his smirk curling wider. Castiel hurriedly moved between him and the door where Kelly still stood frozen.Ā
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Luciferās smirk hardened. āYou really think this is wise, Cas? Why donāt you run off back to the Winchesters, leave Kelly with me. They must really miss you; my people tell me theyāve been looking for you all over but you arenāt returning their calls.ā
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The hit landed, as much as Castiel hated to admit it. He had disabled his phone before either Dean or Sam had had a chance to contact him, but he knew a roadblock like that wouldnāt stop them from searching. Angels and demons werenāt the only beings who could track omens like the one by the water. But he couldnāt afford to think about that, not now with Lucifer staring him down.Ā
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āYou wonāt touch her,ā Castiel growled, firmly placing himself between the two. He could hear Kelly breathing behind him, each one coming in hard on the inhale, trembling on the exhale.Ā
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Lucifer adopted a look of faux innocence. āNow, Castiel, be reasonable. She has something of mine; I just want it back.āĀ
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āYou wonāt touch her,ā Castiel repeated, and let his blade drop into his palm.Ā
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Luciferās eyes tracked the movement, the smirk slowly fading from his face until all that remained was cruelty. āHave it your way. But thereās no room in my sonās life for anyone else.ā
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Lucifer charged in a blur of speed, so swift Castiel could barely track it; he managed to block the blow, dodging the follow-up. Lucifer kept coming, formidable, inevitable. The chances of Castiel winning an all-out fight with any archangel, let alone Lucifer, were infinitesimally low. Even when he was whole, fully winged and powerful, heād only been able to defeat Raphael through desperate measures. And Lucifer was far more powerful than Raphael, in every way.Ā
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But that didnāt matter, Castiel knew, as he spun away from another strike. All that mattered was Kelly and her child; Castiel had to hold the line, no matter what it took.Ā
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Lucifer caught him with a blow across the face, hard enough he was knocked off his feet. He rolled to dodge a thrust of Luciferās blade, lunging out swiftly to catch Lucifer in the leg. It wasnāt mortal in any way, but it was enough to make Lucifer cry out and stagger away, buying Castiel enough time to regain his feet.Ā
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āCastiel!ā Kelly called behind him. He glanced over his shoulder; Kelly had left the cabin, running across the sand toward him. Castiel offered her his hand, an automatic reaction to the distress in her face.Ā
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Kelly grabbed it, clutching it tightly. And he understood that it wasnāt just Kelly reaching for him.
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The child gripped him tight, worry and determination and love, so much love, pouring through Castiel and Kellyās linked hands. Castiel felt the childās power too, flowing into him as from a pitcher to an empty cup. It was heady, beyond anything heād ever felt before; not even the souls from Purgatory had come close to this. Castiel had to wonder whether his vessel could actually hold this much power.Ā
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It was so much, so overwhelming, that Castiel barely felt it when Luciferās blade slammed through his chest.Ā
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He panicked for a split instantāit couldnāt end like this, Castiel dying staring at Luciferās triumphant grin, Kelly taken and the child polluted by his father. But nothing happened; no pain, no grace flare of death. Luciferās confused stare dropped to the blade and Castiel understood. Of course it wouldnāt end like that.Ā
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The child wouldnāt allow it.Ā
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Swifter than an eye blink, Lucifer withdrew the blade and slammed it back into Castielās chest. Again, nothing happened.Ā
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āOh, cāmon,ā was all Lucifer managed to say before Castiel seized his wrist and twisted sharply, breaking it in one motion. Lucifer staggered, crying out. Castiel twisted harder, wrenching Lucifer around and forcing him to his knees. He couldnāt let go of Kellyās hand, lest he risk losing his connection with the child and his advantage along with it, which made the movement awkward. But Kelly didnāt seem to mind; she leapt forward and seized Luciferās shoulder in her free hand and, together, they forced him to the sand.Ā
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Castiel pinned him, pressing a hand hard on the back of his head. Lucifer cried out again, the sound muffled as Castiel ground his face into the sand.Ā
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Luciferās blade was still embedded in his chest. Castiel met Kellyās eyes and nodded to it; she swallowed and pulled it gently out of his body. Again, he felt nothing, just the flesh of his vessel quickly closing the wound.Ā
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Lucifer was writhing underneath them, struggling with all his might to get free. Somehow, Castiel and Kelly held him down regardless.Ā
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āYou canāt do this, youāre nothing! A snivelling human and a broken angel. Youāre nothing!ā Lucifer spat. Castiel shoved his face harder into the dirt. He met Kellyās eyes again; she was still clutching the blade. He nodded and watched her eyes harden with resolve.Ā
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āShut up, you son of a bitch,ā Kelly spat and slammed the blade between Luciferās shoulders.Ā
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Lucifer screamed, his true voice boiling out in an ear splitting screech. Castiel squinted against the burst of grace, pulling Kelly close to shield her eyes against his shoulder.Ā
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This is for Sam Winchester , he thought, who youāve tortured and abused and haunted for far too long. This is for Kelly Kline, who youāve used for your own gain, whose death youāve caused just as surely as if youād dealt the blow with your blade. This is for your son, so heāll never have to endure your toxic influence. Ā
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As Luciferās light faded, as that presence disappeared from the world and from his mind for the final time, something small and injured inside Castiel, the part that he so often ignored, relaxed. Maybe, in some way, this had been for himself too.Ā
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The thought felt selfish, as if his experiences with Lucifer were at all comparable to anything heād put anyone else through. As if Castiel didnāt deserve whatever suffering was visited on him, for all the suffering heād visited on the world and his own kind. Castiel turned his mind away from the thought. He had more important things to think about than self-pity.Ā
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āKelly,ā he said, āare you okay?āĀ
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The question was unnecessary; he could still feel her through the link the child had forged through them all. But humans, he had learned, liked to be asked unnecessary questions. They thought it showed care.Ā
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Kelly said nothing for a long moment, keeping her face tucked against his shoulder. Then her shoulders shifted sharply once and she looked up at Castiel. Her eyes were red but she was grinning.Ā
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āIām wonderful,ā she said.Ā
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They left Lucifer in the sand where he died and headed back into the cabin to await the childās birth.Ā
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When the child finally came into the world, Kelly seized Castielās hand again, one last time.Ā
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āTell him I love him,ā she gasped out, āmake sure he knows how loved he is.āĀ
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āI will,ā Castiel said, holding her hand just as tightly. Part of him quavered; he couldnāt be trusted with this responsibility, heād told Kelly as much weeks ago. He was broken, defective; he ruined everything he touched and every decision he made. He was poison and Kellyās faith in him was misplaced.Ā
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Your lack of faith doesnāt cancel what I believe. Thatās not how it works , a woman had told him once in a church at the lowest point in his long, long existence.Ā
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You will , Kelly had told him, much more recently, her eyes meeting his in the rearview mirror of the Impala, full of determination and hope.Ā
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That same determination and hope was shining in her face now. And Castiel would not allow himself to fail her.Ā
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āI will,ā he said again. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against her sweaty forehead. He could feel her smile.Ā
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When it was over and Kellyās soul had departed to Heaven, the child laid peacefully in Castielās arms.Ā
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Heād cleaned the child and wrapped him in a warm blanket. A swaddling cloth, he thought and couldnāt help but smile. The child looked up at him with squinted eyes and Castiel placed his finger in the childās tiny hand. The child closed those tiny fingers around his own and Castiel realized anew the immediacy of love.Ā
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āHello, Jack,ā he said.Ā
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Even as Castiel prepared Kellyās funeral pyre, he knew that they could not stay for long. Luciferās death alone was an event on a cosmic scale. Castiel expected there would be unnatural storms for the next few days in the area as Luciferās grace dissipated into the universe; already, he could see the beginning of wildflower blooms sprouting from the ground where Luciferās vessel still lay. And that was to say nothing of the beacon Jackās birth had caused, calling all manner of demons and angels to them like moths to a flame.Ā
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Jack could not be kept hidden, kept safe, here. Not anymore.Ā
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But Kelly deserved some kind of rite before they left. Castiel didnāt think heād be able to look Jack in the eye, knowing that heād done otherwise. It would cost them precious time, but it was time he would need to make.Ā
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The sun was beginning to crawl toward the horizon by the time the pyre and Kellyās body were prepared. Castiel let himself pause after laying her shrouded body atop the pyre wood, resting a palm on her chest. There was no soul within her body anymore; the reaper had long come to claim her and Castiel knew she would be in Heaven now, reliving the best moments of her life on an endless loop. Chances were, he would never see her again.Ā
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He let his hand drift, down to where he could feel hers, limp through the curtains heād used as her burial shroud.Ā
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āIāll protect him,ā he said, softly, āheāll know you loved him.āĀ
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The wood went up easily and Castiel waited while it burned his friend to ash.
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Eventually, the fire burned lower, Kellyās body consumed. Castiel could feel night approaching and knew it was time to move. He reached out a hand to douse the flames, leaving nothing but ash behind, easily turned over into the sand until there was nothing left. Then he went back to Jack.Ā
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Jack was resting, peaceful in the crib Kelly had selected and assembled. He was soft and sweet and Castiel could feel the power crackling off him with every quiet breath he took.Ā
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The boy mumbled quietly when Castiel reached into the crib. He was careful to place his hands in the exact correct position to give Jackās little body the support it needed, tucking him into his elbow, supporting his head. Jack seemed to appreciate it, judging by the satisfied burble he made. He made a similar sound as Castiel tucked him carefully into the car seat before settling immediately back into sleep.Ā
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āBirth is difficult work, isnāt it,ā Castiel murmured. He hesitated, then reached out, brushing his finger over the downy hair that sprouted haphazardly on Jackās head. Jack sighed at the touch, sagging further into sleep.Ā
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Castiel picked up the car seat and carried it steadily down the stairs. Heād packed the rest of things Jack would needādiapers, formula, clothesāinto a bag, already stowed in the truck. The USB Kelly had pressed onto him was tucked safely away in Castielās pockets.Ā
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Castiel closed the door of the cabin for the final time with a sense of regret. Kelly had loved this house; she had spent so long painting that nursery, wanting it to be just right for her son. It was a monument of her love, dedicated to the son she would never meet. It felt wrong to leave it behind.Ā
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He glanced down at Jack, curled up asleep in the car seat Castiel had bundled him into. He was the important thing here. They would come back here, he decided, the two of them together, when Jack was older and wanted to know more about his mother. Theyād come back here, look at the mural, walk the shoreline, and make a marker for Kellyās grave. Maybe Jack could help the flowers grow around it.Ā
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He strapped Jackās car seat into the truck, cursing his lack of foresight to find a vehicle with a backseat. For all the power Castiel knew Jack held, he seemed so fragile, vulnerable. He was such a little thing and heād already lost so much; Castiel couldnāt bear to have anything else happen to him.Ā
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Jack stirred when Castiel folded the collar of his tiny onesie to the side. āThis will only take a moment,ā Castiel murmured, brushing his fingertips over Jackās downy hair. Jack stared at him in silence and didnāt move at all while Castiel gently drew anti-tracking sigils in Sharpie on his chest. It was a non-permanent solution to the problem, but at least it was something. Anything else more permanent would cause pain, pain Castiel could not bring himself to inflict, no matter how necessary.Ā
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Castiel capped the pen and straightened Jackās clothes. Jack continued to stare up at him, his eyes shining in the sunlight and Castiel found himself again overwhelmed. This little boy, who held all the power of an archangel and more, was at this moment, entirely dependent on him. It was both unnerving and awe-inspiring.Ā
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āI wonāt fail you,ā Castiel said softly, brushing his fingers over Jackās soft cheek. Jack blinked at him serenely before shutting his eyes with a sleepy sigh. Castiel lingered for a long moment, gently stroking Jackās face as the boy drifted back to sleep.Ā
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The house was fairly remote, far from any large cities; the nearest town was about a forty-five minute drive, and their nearest neighbours half that. Castiel assumed Meg had chosen it for that reason. He started the truck down the dirt track that led to the cabin, planning the route in his mind. They would head south, he thought, then east, making some good distance on the highway before heād detour onto some smaller, less travelled roads. He wanted to cross at least two state lines before he even thought about stopping. Maybe it would even be a good idea to cross the border north into Canada; it certainly wouldnāt stop anyone from tracking him, but it might be an unexpected move that would temporarily puzzle any pursuers. At this point, any effort was worthwhile, as long as it got them a little distance.Ā
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But Castielās plans were dashed before heād even reached the main road. He came around a corner, view impeded by the thick trees pressing close on either side, and had to brake abruptly to avoid the car blocking the road.
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For a split second, he thought it might be some kind of accident. But one look at the three people surrounding the car, and the glinting blades in their hands, put paid to that idea.Ā
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Castiel stared at them, hands tightening involuntarily on the wheel. The angels didnāt move, staring back silently.Ā
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Castiel hesitated, then reached over to brush his fingers over Jackās forehead. āIāll be right back,ā he said, trying to smile reassuringly. Jack gurgled quietly and curled up tighter in his carseat.Ā Ā
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Castiel exited the truck, closing the door firmly behind him.Ā
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āLet us pass,ā he said.Ā
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The lead angel, someone he didnāt recognize, snorted. āNo,ā she said.Ā
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Castiel shifted, letting his blade slip into his palm. āI wasnāt asking.āĀ
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The angels said nothing but slowly started to fan out and approach the truck. They had him at a disadvantage and they knew itāhe was just one angel, flightless, no longer able to be in two places at once. And he was on the wrong side of the truck to get between Jack and the angels, one of whom was approaching the passenger side door.Ā
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Castiel considered, then flipped his blade around in his hand. It would put him at a further disadvantage, yes, but heād succeeded before under worse odds.Ā
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Lightning quick, Castiel drew back his arm and threw his blade with unerring accuracy. It buried itself in the chest of the angel approaching the truck, who screamed and died in a burst of grace.Ā
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The next second, the angelsā leader was upon him. He dodged her blow, grabbing the striking arm and hitting the elbow. If this was a human attacker, that would have been enough to make them drop their blade and possibly immobilize that arm entirely. The angel only snarled and tried to twist out of Castielās grip.Ā
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Now the other remaining angel was next to them, stabbing forward while Castiel still struggled with the leader, clearly hoping to catch him off-guard. At the last second, Castiel pivoted, using all his strength to pull the leader around with him. The striking blade hit her with a glancing blow and that, finally, was enough to make her drop her own blade with a cry.Ā
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Castiel caught the blade as it fell to the ground, reversed his grip, and struck back up, all in one movement. But the leader was too quick; she was already jerking backward and out of range, and the other angel closed in again.Ā
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They traded blows, blades meeting with harsh clangs. Castiel knew the angel attacking him was trying to keep him busy long enough for the leader to reach the truck and take Jack. It forced Castiel on the offensive more than he would have liked, striking quick and hard to break past the angelās defenses and harry the leader. It was a reckless strategy, and one that was difficult to keep up.Ā
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In the end, Castiel wasnāt too surprised when the angel managed to catch him in the shoulder. The blade dug deep into his grace, agony spiralling through him. Castiel retreated with a snarl and missed the leader closing back in. She seized him, hurling him through the air.Ā
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Castiel was thrown back toward the truck, slamming into the windshield with a harsh crack. He could feel the glass shattering behind him, could hear Jack start to wail. Urgency sparked inside him. It was time for a better plan.Ā
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Castiel let himself slump to the ground, curling around his front as if more injured than he really was. Out of sight, he dug his fingers into his wound, stifling the grunt of pain that wanted to escape.Ā
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āGive up now, Castiel,ā the leader was saying. āThereās no need for you to die unless you get in our way.ā She stopped beside him, using her foot to push him over on the ground. Castiel relished how her eyes widened as she saw the banishing sigil, drawn in his own blood.Ā
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āBite me,ā he said and activated the sigil.Ā
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The angels disappeared shrieking in a blast of light. Any triumph Castiel felt immediately disappeared as he heard Jack scream inside the truck. He stumbled to his feet, ripping open the door just in time to see veins of gold fade away under Jackās skin.Ā
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Castiel cursed himself for all kinds of a fool. There had been so few nephilim over the years it was difficult to know how they would be affected by Enochian magic. Castiel had known the sigil wouldnāt banish the boy, had been counting on it, but he hadnāt anticipated it would hurt him either.Ā
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Jack continued to wail, his hands curled in tiny fists and his face red with crying. Guilt and shame bit at Castiel and he quickly extricated Jack from the car seat. He slumped to the ground next to the truck, tucking Jack close, ignoring the way his wound throbbed with his every move.Ā
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āIām sorry, Iām so sorry, Jack,ā he whispered breathlessly, over and over. Jack continued to cry; Castiel reached out with his grace, but couldnāt find any lingering damage to heal. Jack was simply frightened, as any child would be in his situation.Ā
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Shame welled up again and he held Jack closer. His eyes drifted, coming to the body of the angel he had killed, his blade still protruding from their vesselās chest. How many of his brethren had he killed now? The thought pierced him, as it always did, and he gave into the urge to hide his face against Jackās hair.Ā
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These were the bloody hands Kelly had entrusted her child to. This slaughterer of legions.Ā
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Minutes passed as he sat there on the ground, comforting Jack with his killerās hands and trembling under the weight of his guilt. Eventually, Jack calmed, his cries tapering off into shaky breaths.Ā
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Castiel raised his head to look into Jackās eyes, still teary but clearing. He wiped the tears off Jackās face, using the sleeve of his coat to blot them gently away.Ā Ā
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āIām sorry,ā Castiel said again and heaved himself off the ground. The movement put too much pressure on his wounded shoulder, sending a fresh wave of pain through him. Castiel winced through it as he buckled Jack back in his car seat.Ā
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When Jack was secure, Castiel limped back to the driverās side, gingerly heaving himself into the seat. His fingers fumbled reaching for the keys and he had to pause to take a breath before finally managing to turn the ignition.Ā
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Nothing happened. Castiel sighed and tried again. Again, nothing. He exited the truck, opening the hood with a pained grunt. It was a thoroughly human habit he was indulging; he knew nothing about engines, what they looked like when they were in good repair or how to fix them. It felt similar to how he felt when he was human in the flesh, staring at a cooler full of ready made food at the Gas-N-Sip, driven by the consuming need to eat but apathetic toward the choices before him.Ā
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He indulged himself by staring at the truckās engine for a long moment before shutting the hood with a bang. He could just barely see Jack through the shattered windshield, watching him closely.Ā
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They needed to leave, as soon as possible. They could not remain here, to be found by other angels, or demons, or even humans, who would take one look at this scene and come to some very damning conclusions.Ā
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It only took a few minutes to check the other car that the angels had arrived in. Of course, the keys were missing. A quick pat down of the dead angelsā pockets revealed nothing.Ā
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Castiel allowed himself to indulge in defeat for just one moment. There was something about the intentions of a celestial being, a warrior of the Lord who had been making war for millenia, being frustrated by a lack of car keys that some would find very funny. He was sure Dean at least would have been able to see the humour in the situation.Ā
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Of course, if Dean was here, he could probably fix whatever was wrong with Castielās truck. Or hotwire the other car. All while ribbing Castiel for not bothering to learn how to do it himself. Or maybe heād insist on showing Castiel how, walking him through the steps with that endearingly fond expression he always got when he showed Castiel something new and human.Ā
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For a moment, the tempting thought to wait grew within Castiel. The Winchesters were skilled hunters; there was simply no way they hadnāt picked up on the omens surrounding Jackās birth. It was only a matter of time until they showed up. Castiel would need to evade any angels and demons in the meantime, but it would be possible. And then they could go home, he and Jack.Ā
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But as soon as the thought bloomed, it died. Castiel had left them at Heavenās gate, betrayed them, again. He could not expect heād be welcomed back with open arms. He could not expect the bunker would be open to him at all, not after another transgression in a long line of transgressions.Ā
Ā
And even if he was welcome, Jack would not be, not as he was. They wouldnāt want to hurt the boy, Castiel knew that. None of the Winchesters had the kind of malice in them to wish harm upon a child. But they wouldnāt understand Jack, wouldnāt understand that he had to remain as he was, with all his powers intact. They would want to extract his grace and they would think they were doing him a favour.Ā
Ā
Theoretically, the process would leave Jack simply human, free to grow and live his life as such. But there were so few nephilim; Castiel couldnāt say what the process would truly do to Jack, how his body and his soul would react to the loss of his grace. Maybe his grace would simply replenish itself but the loss might also do catastrophic damage to the boy.Ā
Ā
The part of Castiel that still flinched away from the mention of Metatronās name, that remembered viscerally the helplessness and violation heād felt when Metatron had cut out his grace, rebelled at just the thought of Jack losing his own. The Winchesters would be kind, he protested to himself. The extraction would not be violent, as it had been for him. But it would be a violation all the same. And if that was the price for him to return to the bunker, it was too high, no matter how much he wanted it.Ā
Ā
Castiel sighed, and pulled his blade from his brotherās chest, tucking it away. Then he heaved himself back to his feet and limped back to the truck.Ā
Ā
Jack was lying quietly in his car seat, his eyes still a little teary. Castiel crouched next to the truck, gently thumbing away the tears that had spilled. Jack sighed softly and leaned into the touch. The gesture made Castielās heart twist.Ā
Ā
āItāll be alright, Jack,ā he said. āIāll find you somewhere safe.āĀ
Ā
They would need to walk out of here. And the sooner they set out, the better.Ā
Ā
_
Ā
Castiel pulled the dead angel into the abandoned car, pushing both car and truck off into the foliage on the side of the road. No reason to advertise their presence.
Ā
The car seat came out of the truck easily enough, Jack cradled safely inside. Castiel slung the little baby bag over his shoulder, wincing as the weight pulled on his injury. He could feel his torn grace knitting together slowly but it was a deep wound. It would take a while to fully heal at which point he'd finally be able to heal his vessel. Until then, he would just have to ignore the disconcerting feeling of blood running slowly down his arm. Knowing he wouldn't just drain away and die from injuries like this had been harder to understand since his time as a human.Ā
Ā
With a last glance at the tree obscured vehicles, Castiel set off into the forest.Ā
Ā
It was quiet in the woods, but not unnaturally so. Castielās feet cracked quietly over the twigs littering the forest floor and he could hear the soft sounds of night fall around them. As they passed an owl hooting, Jack tried to imitate the noise as best he could.Ā Ā
Ā
āThat was lovely,ā Castiel said and Jack giggled. Castiel glanced down at him; his eyes were flitting around constantly, jumping from one thing to the next. He looked fascinated and Castiel turned his gaze to study what he saw: the trees, the leaves on the ground, the flashes of night sky through the foliage. It was dark now, dark enough a human would have trouble seeing without the light of a flashlight or the moon, but that didnāt pose a problem for angels. Or nephilim, it seemed.Ā
Ā
āIt really is something to behold, isnāt it?ā Castiel mused. Jack gurgled in agreement.Ā
Ā
Walking through the night would get them a little distance from the lake house, enough that any pursuers wouldn't immediately be able to locate them. It wasn't enough for a long term strategyāhe'd need to find another vehicle as soon as he could. The closest town, Dexter by the Sea, was quite small; a stolen car would be noticed quickly. The next nearest, Tokeland, wasn't much better. Heād have to make it all the way to Raymond before he had a hope of finding a vehicle and even then, it would be a risk in a town so small. But if he could head north to Olympia or south to Portland from there, he'd have a chance to exchange vehicles. If he was very lucky, the theft would go unnoticed, just another statistic lost among the shuffle. Then they could get some real distance and disappear.Ā
Ā
Castiel was so lost in thoughts, in the regular movements of his body, that it took a moment for Jackās increased noises to register. The boy was whining quietly to himself in the car seat. He glanced down at him; Jack was glancing around still but his expression looked more fearful now, less interested.Ā
Ā
Castiel glanced warily around them, on guard in case Jack had sensed something he had not. But there didnāt appear to be anything there that shouldnāt be; no demons, no angels, no other supernatural creatures. Just the usual life of a forest at nightāanimals hunting for food, insects chirping. Nothing unexpected but brand new to Jack all the same. Castiel remembered that humans often had a natural fear of the dark; he wondered if Jack had inherited it.Ā
Ā
"It's alright, Jack," Castiel said, "I know it's your first night in this world, but I promise it won't last forever."
Ā
Jack didn't seem very reassured, his fearful sounds continuing. But he reacted to Castiel's voice, his eyes flicking up to him before looking around at the forest again. It was enough to prompt Castiel to continue.Ā
Ā
"I remember the first time I'd ever seen a forest like this," Castiel said. As heād hoped, Jack looked directly at him, suddenly focused.Ā
Ā
"It was a long time ago,ā Castiel continued, ābefore homo sapiens had become the predominant human species. Your ancestors were walking the earth, but they looked very different from you."Ā
Ā
The longer Castiel talked, the more the fear receded from Jack's eyes. So he continued, talking about the insects and beasts he'd watched in those ancient forests. He talked about the forests he'd visited in Siberia, the Amazon, and the bamboo shoots in China. He talked and talked and Jack calmed at the sound of his voice. It was humbling, to have something so small bring so much comfort.Ā
Ā
"But I think the most beautiful forest I've ever seen was in the heaven of a little girl who died of polio in 1924. The trees had looked so large in her memory, they seemed like massive pillars reaching for the sky and holding it up like the roof of a coliseum."Ā
Ā
Castiel had spent much time in that heaven, wandering that forest. The only other time heād felt that kind of awe had been in purgatory, wandering alone through the woods, dodging Leviathan when he could. Heād wanted to hide there, so completely heād never be found again. Heād stop every now and then, just to lay down on the ground, out of some hope that if he stayed still long enough the discarded leaves would cover him and he would become one with the landscape. Just another piece of detritus, unimportant, forgotten, and rotting away.Ā
Ā
But, of course, angels did not rot. And the Leviathan were always tracking him, drawn by his divinity, which remained incorrupt no matter how tainted he felt. Constant movement had been necessary, if only to stay one step ahead of Dean, his desperate prayers dogging Castielās footsteps no matter how far he fled.Ā
Ā
As if conjured by the thought, Castielās mind started to buzz with prayer. Desperation poured in like a tide, longing a subtle but powerful undertow. Please, Cas , Dean said into his mind, please be there .Ā
Ā
The prayer ended just as swiftly as it had begun; Dean might not have even realized he had been praying. The trees filtered back in before Castielās eyes and if Jack hadnāt been making quiet noises in his car seat, he wasnāt certain he would have remembered where or when he was in that moment.Ā
Ā
The Winchesters were on their way, then. They must have noticed the omens caused by Jackās birth or Luciferās death and narrowed it down to a specific area. It was only a matter of time before they located the abandoned vehicles, the cabin, the remains of Kellyās funeral pyre. Lucifer. Castiel and Jack needed to be gone by then.
Ā
But Castiel hesitated, wrestling with himself again. Lucifer was dead, the threat he posed gone from the world forever. Would it be such a terrible thing, to go back to the cabin and wait there for the rumble of the Impala coming down the road?Ā
Ā
The thought of the incident on the road, the mess heād left behind him, was enough to stop that thought. Jack was hunted now, and would be for all his life. Angels, demons, witches, any entity that wanted to use Jackās power for themselves, they would never stop searching for him. Beyond looking to Jackās own safety, Cas had no right to bring that danger to the Winchestersā door. Better they went their separate ways, no matter how much it hurt. They would all be safer, then.Ā
Ā
Jack was making inquiring noises in the car seat, his fear dissipated.Ā
Ā
āTime to go,ā Castiel said, and continued walking, trying to shake off the lingering sense of Deanās desperation.Ā
Ā
It wasnāt the first time heād received a prayer from Dean since leaving the Winchesters at Heavenās gate. Most of them couldnāt even be classified as prayers, not even in the lackadaisical way Dean always prayed. Some didnāt even have words, more a sense of swirling emotionsāfear, anger, hopelessness. But they came, nonetheless, flaring in Castielās mind one moment and gone the next.Ā
Ā
The longest prayer had come just after Castiel and Kelly had run, presumably when Dean and Sam had awoken from their forced slumber. Castiel had had to pull over and let Kelly drive as Dean alternated between raging and pleading. Since then, the prayers had shortened, changed in tone, and come at different times of day. The only thing Castiel could predict about them was that they would come.Ā
Ā
āYāknow, in these circumstances, I'd usually go to them,ā Castiel told Jack, wryly, āIāve done it before.ā Like after losing the angel tablet or becoming human after Metatron stole his grace. Even after swallowing those souls and playing his version of god. Always coming to the Winchesters soaked in blood and guilt after making another in a long line of mistakes. Like a wounded animal that should have been put out of its misery a long time ago.Ā
Ā
āBut not this time,ā he said, smiling down at Jack in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. āItās just us now.ā And if the words were meant to comfort Jack, they did not comfort Castiel.Ā
Ā
They walked silently for a time. Jack returned to looking around them curiously, newly enthralled by the sights and sounds around them. The trees opened up before them, the light of the moon shining down on a small clearing. Castiel saw deer on the far side, grazing contentedly, so far undisturbed by their arrival. Slowly, he put down the car seat and unbuckled Jack, lifting him in his arms. Jack seemed confused, although content enough to be held.Ā
Ā
Castiel shuffled him slightly, turning and pointing. āLook, Jack.āĀ
Ā
Jack followed his pointing finger with curious eyes. He was too young for his expression to reveal much but Castiel could feel his surprised pleasure at seeing the deer, his wonder at their graceful necks, their strong legs, their dark eyes.Ā
Ā
They stood and watched the deer until the deer moved on into the night. They didnāt truly have the time to pause like this, Castiel knew. They should be pressing on. But feeling Jackās warm weight in his arms, feeling his peaceful contentment, it was difficult to remember the urgency of their situation.Ā
Ā
They could make up the time later, he justified it to himself. For now, let Jack enjoy himself.Ā
Ā
-
Ā
They walked a few more hours before Jack started making distressed noises. Castiel placed the car seat gently on the ground, touching Jackās forehead. Jack pushed his feelings toward him through the touchāa rumbling in his belly, discomfort, weariness, a touch of irritability. Castiel remembered the feeling well from his brief time as a human: the boy was hungry.Ā
Ā
Castiel unslung the bag from his shoulder, wincing as he did so. The wound to his grace was healing, but slowly. It would be days before he felt truly healed, a process that would be dragged out by having to constantly be on the move.Ā
Ā
All the same, it didnāt take long to prepare the bottle of formula, heating it to the perfect temperature with a small burst of his grace. Then he gathered Jack in his arms and set about feeding him.Ā
Ā
It wasnāt as complex a procedure as Castiel had feared, bent over his laptop at night while Kelly slept, endlessly scrolling through new parent blogs and Youtube videos. Jack was biddable, willing to go along with it as Castiel carefully arranged him in a semi-upright position, making sure to support his head. Jack took to the bottle instantly, his emotions shifting from anticipation to a sated pleasure. Castiel eyed the volume of the bottle and gently disengaged Jack from it every 2 to 3 ounces consumed to gently burp Jack against his shoulder. Jack obediently spit up on the towel Castiel had conveniently placed on his shoulder for just that purpose.Ā
Ā
āYou did well,ā Castiel said when Jack was finished, putting away the bottle and the newly cleaned towel. Jack cooed softly from where he still laid against Castielās shoulder; he was struggling not to fall asleep but his full belly was pushing him ever closer despite himself. It was incredibly endearing.Ā
Ā
Castiel considered their supplies. He had enough formula and water to last a few more days, based on how much human newborns usually consumed. But Jack had other needsāa safe place to sleep, a clean place to change and bathe him. They couldnāt stay out here for much longer.Ā
Ā
āTime to walk some more,ā he said to Jack. Jackās brow crinkled and he made a displeased sound.Ā
Ā
āI know,ā Castiel sympathized, āwalking truly is interminable. Iām not sure how humanity does it all the time.āĀ
Ā
Jack made another disgruntled noise, his entire being exuding sleepy displeasure. Castiel hesitated, then carefully shifted Jack in his arms, folding his arms around him to bring him closer. Immediately, he felt Jackās displeasure melt away, replaced by a feeling of comfort and relief.Ā
Ā
Heād read, of course, that babies needed to be held. It helped them to connect emotionally and physically with their parents and form important social bonds. But it was one thing to read it and another to feel a living being take comfort at his touch. It was an intoxicating feeling, one that came from doing an uncomplicated good.
Ā
He had so rarely used his borrowed hands for tenderness. He remembered moments of frozen helplessness, watching his siblings suffer in battle, watching Dean suffer from nightmares of Hell, unable to understand the feeling welling up inside of him. But he understood now. He had daydreamed about it sometimes, being tender. Putting a hand on Claireās shoulder while she laughingly explained what the image she was showing him on Twitter meant. Patting Sam on the back after a few long hours of research together, using the gesture to heal the crick in his neck that always seemed to pain Sam these days.Ā
Ā
Mostly though, he dreamed of Dean. Taking Deanās hand when he was driving, or coming up behind him while he was cooking in the kitchen and putting his arms around Deanās waist, like heād seen on TV. They were useless thoughts, only petty daydreams that he would let his mind mull over on long drives. They were certainly nothing that would ever happen in reality, nothing based in hope. But they were comforting to Castiel all the same, and he couldn't ever quite leave them behind.Ā
Ā
Now, in his arms, Jack was starting to drift to sleep. Castiel let himself hold the boy for another indulgent moment before he leaned down to put him back in the car seat. As soon as Castiel moved to place him inside, Jack stirred awake with a whine. Castiel brought him close to his chest again and Jack immediately calmed, a simple joy pouring off him. It humbled Castiel, feeling that joy.Ā
Ā
āIām sorry,ā Castiel said, ābut I canāt carry both you and the car seat, not safely. I can hold you later.ā He cuddled Jack a bit closer, stroking his fingers over his head before placing one in Jackās tiny palm. Jack grasped his finger, looking up at him narrowly. Castiel squinted back at him, trying to understand the feelings he could sense from Jackāsome swirling mix of consideration, happiness, and something he hesitated to attempt to label. Before he could fully grasp them, the emotions were subsumed by a flare of grace.Ā
Ā
It had the same burning power heād felt when Jack had flooded into him at Heavenās gate, the grace that had burned Dagon alive with barely an effort. It was a tidal wave and Castiel drowned in it, the power sweeping through him unrelentingly.Ā
Ā
The torrent faded as quickly as it had come on, leaving Castiel gasping on the forest floor, Jack tightly clutched in his arms. He looked down at Jack, suddenly afraid heād hurt the boy, holding him too close in that massive surge of grace. Jack blinked back at him peacefully, a golden glow fading from his eyes.Ā
Ā
Relieved, Castiel started to stand and stopped. Something was different. The wound aching through his shoulder and down into his grace had been healed, that was immediately apparent, but...this was something else.Ā
Ā
He hesitated, straightened, and spread his wings. They unfurled around him, stretching across the dimensions.Ā
Ā
Castiel could do nothing but stare; they were fully formed again, not the scarred scraps left behind by Metatronās spell. As beautiful as they had been before he went to Hell to retrieve Dean.Ā
Ā
Castiel stood there for a long time, adjusting to the feel of them. Eventually, Jack made a small, inquiring noise. Castiel glanced down at him again, his gaze blurring slightly from the tears lining his eyes.Ā
Ā
Jack looked back at him, clearly satisfied. āYouāre right,ā Castiel said roughly around the lump in his throat. āI can hold you now.āĀ
Ā
And he spread his wings and flew for the first time in years, leaving the car seat behind in the forest.Ā
_
Ā
With his wings, the options to evade pursuit were near limitless. He could fly anywhere in the world, no longer constrained to the United States by such human things as borders and passports. He now had easier access to things Jack needed; an empty hotel room in Mexico City provided a safe place for Jack to bathe and sleep, miles away from where pursuers would expect him to be.Ā
Ā
It made the game of evasion much simpler, giving them an opportunity to settle somewhere they wouldnāt be found. It also gave him access to tactics he wouldnāt have been able to use before. So, after Jack awoke, he set about laying an intricate trail for their pursuers.Ā
Ā
First, he flew to the soaring sequoia trees of the Sierra Nevada. Then to Yunnan province in China, where he spent some time walking through the bamboo shoots. Next, he travelled to the Amazon, settling next to the massive river and watching the leaves sway in the wind, the birds and insects flying by.Ā
Ā
Jack was enthralled by every new sight, alternately staring, giggling, or making little shrieks of delight. Castiel kept a tight hold on him every time he spread his wings.Ā
Ā
āI told you they were magnificent,ā he said as they lingered beneath the larch boughs of the Siberia taiga. Jack exclaimed in agreement.Ā
Ā
Of course, they couldnāt go to only remote places; the whole point of laying a false trail was to be noticed. Castiel flew them to Paris and spent an afternoon walking along the Seine. He flew to Bangkok to wander the grounds of the Grand Palace. He lingered by the reclining Buddha at Wat Pho holding Jack up so he could admire the shiny stones laid into the soles of the Buddhaās feet. He flew to the Grand Canyon, standing with the other tourists at Mather Point.Ā
Ā
āMy sister made this, a very long time ago,ā he said to Jack, quietly enough to not be overheard from the tourists around them. āHael.ā The name hurt to say, as all the names of his deceased siblings did, a pain that could never be alleviated because it would mean forgetting the damage heād wrought.Ā
Ā
Jack stirred in his arms, something disturbing him. Castiel shifted to hold him more securely but Jack was still restless, twisting in his arms and starting to whine.Ā Ā
Ā
āShhh,ā Castiel whispered, bringing him up to his shoulder. Jack relaxed against him, tucking his face into Castielās neck. The sense of urgency that had been building in Jack dissipated, replaced by a slow moving contentment. Maybe Jack had simply wanted to be held closer, overwhelmed by the majesty of the canyon; the theory didnāt quite make sense, but Castiel wasnāt going to question it now Jack seemed to be feeling better.Ā
Ā
āItās alright,ā Castiel whispered. Jack sighed softly.Ā
_
Ā
Deanās prayer came shortly after Castiel landed in Reykjavik.Ā
Ā
He was sitting on a bench on the Sculpture and Shore Walk, overlooking the Sun Voyager and watching the other pedestrians go by. Heād just paid a visit to a baby supply store in Moscow, popping in and grabbing a baby carrier before popping back out. Heād then flown into a one-stall washroom in a gas station somewhere in southern Texas to put it on.Ā
Ā
āThis will make things much easier,ā Castiel had said to Jack as he adjusted the straps on his shoulders. He could tell Jack wasnāt quite pleased with the arrangement; he seemed to prefer being completely ensconced in Castielās arms at all times. He appeared to be under the impression that holding him was the only reason Castiel had arms in the first place.Ā
Ā
āSometimes, I need to have my hands free,ā Castiel explained, settling Jack in the sling. āTo protect you. But with this, youāre still close to me.ā He bounced a little on the balls of his feet, prompting high-pitched giggles. āSee?āĀ
Ā
The shoreline was lovely here; the walkway looked out over the water and the air was a bit chilly even in the Icelandic summer sunshine. Jack was avidly watching a bird picking at the grass nearby, entirely fascinated. It was peaceful.Ā
Ā
Dean blared to life in his mind without warning.Ā
Ā
Cas, I donāt know if you can hear me. Weāre at the cabin in Washington. We found Kelly and Lucifer ā I canāt believe you managed to ice the bastard. But the kidās not here. And youāre not here. Obviously.Ā
Ā
Dean sighed deeply, and Castiel could feel the longing building, stretching between them like a taut line.Ā
Ā
Just tell me where you are, man. Send me a text, find a payphone, something. I just gotta know youāre okay. Wherever you are, weāll come and get you, it doesnāt matter where.Ā
Ā
There was silence for a long moment but the connection remained. Castiel wondered if Dean was waiting, waiting with bated breath, for Castiel to place the call as he had asked. Castiel remembered that hope; heād stared at his phone so often when theyād lost Dean to the demonic influence of the Mark, willing it to ring with all he had. Heād never truly expected Dean to reach out, but it had been crushing nonetheless each day he hadnāt.Ā
Ā
Castiel wondered if it was as crushing for Dean now, every second that passed with his phone silent. He hoped not.Ā
Ā
Finally, Dean continued, his voice harder, almost angry. I know youāre with the kid. Gone on the run with him or something. But, Cas, you-you gotta know. You gotta know heās controlling you. You gotta break out of it. Just break out of it and weāll deal with it. Please.Ā
Ā
The prayer ended, the hum in Castielās mind fading away. Jack was making curious noises against his chest, as if heād sensed the prayer, as impossible as that was.Ā
Ā
āYes, that was Dean,ā Castiel said. He stroked his hand over the warm hat heād placed on Jackās head. āThat was Dean.āĀ
Ā
They lingered on that bench for a while, until Castiel could gather himself together enough to take wing. Dean didnāt pray again.Ā
Ā
Ā
_
Ā
They were left in relative peace for the next several destinations; Jack managed to sleep in a few more empty hotel rooms and once an empty apartment in Egypt. It wasnāt until Kiev that they ran into trouble.Ā
Ā
Castiel spotted the demons not long after he landed, their true faces hideous behind their innocuous human vessels. Castiel pretended not to notice them, continuing blithely down the street and turning into an alleyway seemingly without a care in the world. The demons took the bait, following him to a dead end.Ā
Ā
It was childās play to disappear, flying quicker than an eyeblink to appear behind them. The demons startled, tried to fight, but they were no match for his speed.Ā
Ā
All the same, it was upsetting for Jack. Castiel fled as soon as he finished with the demons, tucking his bloodied blade away before Jack had to see it. Too much of this boyās incredibly short life had been marred by violence; Castiel would shield him from it, if he could.Ā
Ā
āIām sorry,ā he whispered to Jack when they landed in the cornfields near the Parana River in Argentina. āIāll find you somewhere safe.āĀ
_
Ā
Two stops later, they ran into another pair of demons. Again, Castiel killed them with ease and was left standing over two dead bodies in a remote corner of Manila, confused and angry. He knew Crowley had been desperate to stop Lucifer, to find Jack before he was born. But he must have known by now that Lucifer was dead; even lower demons would have felt that and Crowley was never one to allow important events pass beneath his notice. This intensity to the hunt didnāt make sense.Ā
Ā
It was a hurdle in the path before him but not an insurmountable one. He would just have to keep running.Ā
Ā
Castiel was walking down a busy street in downtown Kyoto when a presence suddenly materialized beside him. Without thought, he seized him, tugging them through the dimensions and slamming him against the wall of the alley they materialized in, his blade at Crowleyās throat.Ā
Ā
āWhoa, whoa, angel, thereās no need for this!ā Crowley protested loudly, his hands up in surrender.Ā
Ā
Castiel shook him, hard. The wall cracked behind Crowleyās back. āGive me one good reason I shouldnāt kill you.āĀ
Ā
āRelax, Cas,ā Crowley said, lowering his hands a little. āIām not here to hurt the tyke. I just wanted to see it for myself.āĀ
Ā
Castiel hesitated, then backed up a step, lowering his blade from Crowleyās neck to hover warily in front of him. Crowley made a show of straightening his coat, dramatically dusting off his shoulders. Finally, his gaze settled on Jack, currently sleeping in the sling.Ā
Ā
āSo,ā he said, looking Jack over consideringly. Jack, for his part, slept on. Castiel had been worried about the unrelenting pace at first, concerned Jack would find it too tiring and they would need to take the risk of stopping more often. But Jack slept easily enough when he was tired, napping in the sling without concern. Castiel was beginning to think he found the sensation of flying soothing.Ā
Ā
āThatās Luciferās son,ā Crowley said. There was an undercurrent of wonder in his voice.Ā
Ā
āYes.ā There was no point in lying. Crowley had always had a knack for seeing through Castielās lies anyway.Ā
Ā
āDoesnāt seem like much,ā Crowley said, watching Jack with an appraising eye. Castiel tucked an arm around Jack, twisting his body so Crowley couldnāt see him head on and bringing his blade to bear. Crowley didnāt even bother to pretend to feel frightened, rolling his eyes with a loud sigh.Ā
Ā
āHonestly, I'm not threatening the lad,ā he said, āheās just not what comes to mind when one thinks of Lucifer Junior.ā
Ā
Castiel had indulged Crowley long enough. They didnāt have time for this. āHow did you find me?āĀ
Ā
āGood luck,ā Crowley said, tucking his hands casually in his coat pockets. āI happened to have a spy nearby who let me know when they spotted a trench coat wearing a baby bjorn. Weāve all been on high alert, trying to find you.ā He smiled. āCourtesy of the Winchesters.ā
Ā
āTheyāre still looking,ā Castiel said, tonelessly. It had been days since Deanās last prayer, longer since they had found the cabin. Castiel knew they hadnāt given up searching for him; neither Sam nor Dean were known for their lack of persistence. And Deanās prayers hadnāt changed. They came at the oddest moments, unpredictably. Sometimes they were just a few words long, sometimes just some curses strung together with desperation. Sometimes they went on for minutes at a time, quiet words interspersed with long silences. When those prayers came, Castiel always had to find someplace quiet to stand, closing his eyes to listen and resisting every part of him demanding he fly to Dean that instant.Ā
Ā
The last prayer heād received had been short.Ā
Ā
Cas. I donāt know if you can hear me. I hope you can, though. I hope you can.Ā
Ā
āOh yes,ā Crowley said, his face twisting into that familiar smug look, as if he perpetually knew something you didnāt. It was one of his more annoying expressions. āAnd quite desperately too. You should have heard the things poor Squirrel was saying.ā
Ā
Castiel didnāt know if Crowleyās words were meant to wound, but they did. He could well imagine the types of things Dean was saying. Something angry, no doubt, lashing out at Castiel in his absence, lashing out at Crowley when he saw him. Demands for Crowleyās assistance, maybe even a vow to track Castiel down himself if Crowley played recalcitrant.Ā
Ā
But Dean was softer in his prayers, as he so often was. Castiel knew Dean felt very deeply, often so deeply he had problems processing his own emotions. Back when his grace had been pure, free of the scars heād accrued through the last years, heād been able to see those emotions surge in Deanās mind, see the way his thoughts would circle obsessively around the core pillars of his being. A need to protect not only Sam, but the rest of his family as well, and humanity as a whole. A deep-seated understanding of his lack of worth, twinned by a pounding love that only ever pointed outward.Ā
Ā
It had staggered Castielāwho had barely known what emotion wasāthat one person could feel so deeply and so much, all at once.Ā
Ā
But prayer seemed a place that Dean allowed those parts of himself that he so often buried to show. The soft parts, the vulnerable core of him. Dean had said things to him in prayers that he never would have been able to say to Castielās face.Ā
Ā
It was what he remembered the most from Purgatory, those prayers. They had followed him, no matter how far from Dean he had fled, alternately cajoling, threatening, and pleading. Each one had only made Castiel want to return to Dean more and each one had ensured he would not, because how could he atone if he was at Deanās side, forgiven? How could he justify doing something so selfish when it would put Dean in so much danger?Ā
Ā
It hadnāt been fair to Dean, Castiel knew that. It had hurt Dean, when he discovered Castiel had stayed away from him on purpose, a hurt Castiel had watched him swallow and bury that day at the river. Castiel wondered if he would be able to bury the hurt in the same way now or if the Mark had stolen his ability to do that, even years gone.
Ā
He wasnāt unaware of the similarities between his actions now and in Purgatory. This wasnāt the first time he had run from Dean, nor the second. Sometimes, it felt he was always running from Dean, pulled away by his obligations, his fear, his guilt, his shame. And it always seemed to turn out to be a mistake, like everything else Castiel did.Ā
Ā
Was he making another mistake again, running now? He looked at Jack; heād woken up a bit during Castielās conversation with Crowley and was now looking sleepily up at him. There was no trace of distrust or misgiving in the boy, only a boundless faith. Castiel couldnāt remember the last time someone had looked at him like that, not even the Winchesters.Ā Ā
Ā
No, he had to keep going, laying low until he could find somewhere safe for him and Jack to land. No one could be allowed to take Jack and the Winchesters could not be allowed to remove his grace. They would only all be safe if Castiel stayed away.Ā
Ā
The Winchesters would be fine. They had never truly needed Castiel, not in the same way that they needed each other, or needed Mary, or Jody, or Bobby; their real family. Castiel could be useful, he knew that. But there were no more crises on the horizon now, the domino effect of their actions and mistakes in the last few years terminated by Luciferās death.Ā
Ā
No one needed Castiel now, except for Jack.Ā
Ā
Castiel had always been more trouble than he was worth, he knew that. Heād failed too many times for it to be otherwise. But maybe he could do right by this boy. Caring for Jack would never be a mistake, no matter how much Dean and Sam might resent him for it.Ā
Ā
āWill you tell them you saw me?ā Castiel asked.Ā
Ā
Crowley looked at him silently for a long moment; Castiel was reminded uncomfortably that this demon had saved his life not that long ago.Ā
Ā
āNo,ā Crowley finally said.Ā
Ā
Castiel watched him warily. āReally?āĀ
Ā
āTell me one thing, Cas,ā Crowley said, taking a step toward him. āHow much do you want this tiny tot involved in Hellās affairs?ā
Ā
āNot at all,ā Castiel said. It wasnāt a lieāthe future Jack had shown him may have included reference to permanent closure of Hell, but that didnāt mean that Castiel actually wanted the boy anywhere near a demon, no matter the destiny heād chosen for himself.Ā
Ā
Crowley smiled. āThatās what I thought.ā He stepped away from the wall of the alley, theatrically rubbing his hands together. āThen, I wash my hands of this whole ridiculous thing.ā
Ā
āSo youāll stop sending your demons after us?ā Castiel asked. āI donāt appreciate being hunted.āĀ
Ā
Crowleyās eyes crinkled with amusement. āSo you noticed them, then? Iāll have to give them a talking-to about the meaning of the words āstay hiddenā.āĀ
Ā
Castiel frowned, confused. āWhat are you talking about?āĀ
Ā
Crowleyās expression soured into a matching frown. āWhat are you talking about?āĀ
Ā
Castiel rolled his eyes, immediately frustrated in that way that only Crowley seemed to bring out in him. āIām talking about the demons whoāve attacked us in Kiev and Manila. Iām not sure what you thought you told them, but they certainly werenāt staying hidden when they were trying to kill me.āĀ
Ā
Crowleyās expression didnāt change, his frown unmoving.Ā
Ā
āYou didnāt know,ā Castiel said, suddenly sure. He tucked his blade away.Ā
Ā
āNo,ā Crowley said.Ā
Ā
Those demons, as weak as they had been, had been well prepared. Theyād had angel blades, theyād known how to fight. If Castiel had not been restored to his full power, they might have posed a real danger to him. If Crowley hadnāt sent themā
Ā
Ā āI think you have a challenger for your throne,ā Castiel said, slowly.Ā
Ā
āShit,ā Crowley muttered. Then his frown disappeared, folding into his familiar smirk, a bit more pained than usual. āWell, I had best go then. People to kill, you know how it is.āĀ
Ā
āCrowley,ā Castiel said. Crowley paused, looking at him with an expectant expression. Castiel looked away and forced himself to continue. āThank you.āĀ
Ā
āPlease, donāt,ā Crowley said, rolling his eyes. āYouāll embarrass both of us.ā His eyes lingered on Jack for a moment. āI hope you enjoy fatherhood. I hear itās rewarding.āĀ
Ā
Castiel stared at him before his gaze fell to Jack. He had never thought about applying that label to himself. Being a father always seemed like something purely human, something that would never apply to him. Heād had no role in Jackās creation, not like a father would. But genetics wasnāt the be all and end all of family or of fatherhood. Fathers were meant to care for their children, to love them, want what was best for them and give them what they needed to achieve it. Wasnāt that what Castiel wanted to be for Jack? What was a father if not for that?Ā
Ā
āNauseating,ā he vaguely heard Crowley grumble. When he looked back up, Crowley had disappeared.
Ā
Castiel wrapped his arms around Jack, sleeping soundly again in the sling. They remained in that alley for a long time.Ā
Ā
_
Ā
As harmless as Crowley had turned out to be, heād found them far too easily for Castielās tastes. That meant more flights, more destinations to get lost among the teeming crowd of humanity. Sometimes, Castiel allowed them to stay for a bit in a location, going through the motions of feeding Jack and burping him on his shoulder before moving on or flying into an empty home while a family was away to give Jack a bath in their kitchen sink. Sometimes, they would stay only long enough for their presence to register for anyone tracking them before moving on again. Others, they would linger beyond the necessities and take in whatever sites there were to seeāa garden, tall buildings, a shoreline.Ā
Ā
It was a routine of sorts, but it wasnāt stable. It wasnāt a home, wasnāt a secure place for Jack to come into his powers, where Jack could grow and feel safe. A life of constant insecurity, deprived of community and safety. Castiel knew what a life like that could do to human children; heād seen it in the Winchesters. Heād seen how Deanās soul had settled when theyād moved into the bunker and how Samās had eventually started to do the same. He wanted that same feeling for Jack.Ā
Ā
Crowley was true to his word; the demonic presence at their destinations seemed to disappear entirely. But Castiel could feel their foulness out there in the world, the demonic omens forming and the sulphur in the breeze. He didnāt need to check the news to confirm, although a quick glance at the headlines of the Thanh Nien when pausing in Ho Chi Minh City confirmed the spike in unexplained disappearances, inexplicably failing crops, and dead livestock. There was unrest in Hell, spilling over onto Earth; Crowley was on the move.Ā
Ā
And heād been to see the Winchesters.Ā
Ā
It had only been a few days since heād met Crowley that the next prayer from Dean came, boiling angrily into his mind.Ā
Ā
Cas, you better have your damn ears on. I know Crowley saw you. Heās not saying anything, but I know he did. The hell are you doing, man? Youāll talk to Crowley but not to us? I know heās changed, but heās still a demon, man. You trust a demon over us?Ā Ā
Ā
The word again went unspoken but not unheard.Ā
Ā
The words hurt, as Deanās words always hurt when he was angry, but it wasnāt anything Castiel hadnāt expected to hear. He hadnāt earned the benefit of the doubt, especially not from Dean, who always seemed to be the one to bear the brunt of Castielās failures.Ā
Ā
Just ā dammit, just call me. The prayer finished, Deanās desperation seeming to linger on the air.Ā
Ā
Castiel had told Dean once, many years ago when he still believed there was a plan for the world, that all their fates laid with Dean. He hadnāt been wrong; the world and all its foibles only continued to exist due to the Winchesters. But what Castiel had forgotten, in the years since that moment, was that their fates, his fate, would not always lay with Dean. There was no great plan that had brought him into alignment with the Winchesters; he had chosen them, chosen Dean, over and over. Because he thought it was right, yes, but also simply because he wanted it. And now, he was making a different choice, one that necessarily took him away from Dean.Ā
Ā
They would both have to live with it.Ā
Ā
_
Ā
A few days later, Castiel landed on a beach in Northern California and knew heād found Jackās home.Ā
Ā
It was low tide and the wet sand stretched out from the tideline. There were people walking across the uncovered ocean floorāsomeone throwing sticks for their dog, a couple holding the hands of a toddler walking slowly toward the surf in the distance. He looked out over the water and remembered the peace that had descended in Kellyās mind back at the cabin when sheād first looked out into the sound. He could feel that same peace in Jack now.Ā
Ā
āWould you like to live here?ā Castiel asked. Jack, watching the gulls circling above and calling to each other, burbled with interest and waved his arms. And so it was settled.Ā
Ā
Eureka, California. It seemed apt.Ā
Ā
With a destination decided, Castielās mind turned to logistics. Humans these days prized money above all else, a lesson heād learned well during his own time as a human. And money was something of which he had none, save the few coins of change Dean had absently dropped in his pockets over the years. His only option was the old credit card Sam had set up for him a few years back. Castiel had used it only occasionally but as far as he knew it still worked.Ā
Ā
It would also bring the Winchesters down on him as soon as he used it; it would be foolish to assume they werenāt watching it.Ā
Ā
Many humans earned money by working, but heād also learned how difficult employment was to secure when one had no experience and no one to vouch for you. Castiel supposed he technically had some of that all-important experience now, but he doubted Nora would give him a āgood referenceā, not after heād left for a family emergency and never returned over four years before. And even if he could secure employment, that left the problem of Jack. The boy was too young to care for himself and it was too dangerous to leave him in the care of others who would be frightened by his powers and unable to defend him if pursuers came.Ā
Ā
So employment would not be an option. Luckily, Castiel had options at his disposal now that he had not had when he was human.Ā
Ā
It was simple to fly to an ATM in New York City and use his grace to short circuit it. The money began to dispense itself in an orderly fashion and Castiel got to work shoving it into his bag.Ā
Ā
āJack,ā Castiel said, āthis is an important lesson. Money is something that humans value very much. They work to earn it, use it to buy what they want and need. Money is needed for almost everything in this world.ā He gently placed one of the hundred dollar bills into Jackās little hand. Jackās fingers curled around it curiously, cooing softly at the new texture. His brow crinkled in confusion.Ā
Ā
āI know,ā Castiel said, āIt seems odd to value a piece of paper so highly. At least when most humans used a bartering economy, the things they were trading for goods had actual inherent value, not just whatever was assigned to it.āĀ
Ā
Jack still seemed confused. āDonāt worry,ā Castiel said, confidingly, taking the bill and tucking it away with the others. āI donāt understand it either.āĀ
Ā
Castiel had hidden from angels before, albeit not entirely successfully. The tattoo heād acquired for himself after losing his grace had long ago healed, the flood of the grace heād stolen from Theo washing all marks on his vessel clean. It was a difficult thing to remain hidden from angels while being yourself an angel. His species longed for connection to each other, had been designed with that connection in mind. To be separated from the host was to be an angel no longer.Ā
Ā
But Castiel would need to hide now, completely. He found an empty room in a condo in Vancouver and used his grace to carve the same markings into his ribs that heād given to Sam and Dean. It was a curious sensation at first, being within himself and forced to turn away from himself, the ward making his grace want to overlook his own being. He allowed himself to lay down on the bed with Jack cooing on his chest in an effort to recover, his mind spinning. He left when a key began to scrape in the lock, disappearing with a contraction of his wings.Ā
Ā
Jack, at this point, would still have to make do with charms, temporary tattoos, and hex bags. It didnāt feel right putting a permanent mark on the boy without the boy being old enough to understand it or why he was doing it. Maybe when Jack was grown enough to understand the necessity, Castiel could put the same marks on his ribs to keep him protected. For now, the hex bag he tucked into Jackās sling would do.Ā
Ā
Castiel flew from Vancouver to Thunder Bay to Edinburgh to New Delhi in quick succession. He waited there awhile, letting Jack sleep, until he was sure that anyone still attempting to locate them would have been confused and caught up in the flight. Then, he flew to New Orleans.Ā
Ā
Maybe it was overly cautious to not fly directly to Eureka. But Castiel was unwilling to be anything but cautious, not when Jackās safety was in question. So he would avoid leaving any trace of his flight approaching the town and drive there instead.Ā
Ā
He settled on a silver Toyota hatchback, one of five similar cars heād seen lining the street. It was forgettable in every way, one of those cars that Dean would have derided as belonging to a suburban mom or a weed-smoking hippy. It would be missed, Castiel knew, by whoever owned the vehicle, but it would be buried in the police reports of a city like this. No one else would ascribe any meaning to its theft, even if someone had managed to track him this far.Ā
Ā
It was simple to obtain a new car seat and place it in the back. He strapped Jack in, satisfied to have him safe and happy in the rear of the car.Ā
Ā
It was around a thirty-seven hour drive; it would take several days, anticipating having to stop to feed Jack. But Jack certainly didnāt seem to mind, settling down immediately into sleep as soon as Castiel started the car. Maybe he found driving just as soothing as flight; Castiel had read that many infants did.Ā
Ā
Castiel drove in silence until Jack stirred a few hours later, just as they were passing through Alexandria. He stopped to feed Jack, the routine of preparing the formula and adjusting Jack to feed and burp having become soothing over time. They were back on the road soon enough, Jack drowsing in the back, eyes on the window. Castiel merged carefully back onto the highway and after a few minutes, dug into his coat pocket.Ā
Ā
The mixtape was safe inside, retrieved from the truckās tape deck before they abandoned it. He hesitated for a moment then popped it in.Ā
Ā
He thought maybe the music would be too loud for Jack, but heād paused the tape just before Thank You opened. The sound of strumming guitar filled the car. Castiel could sense Jackās interest flare, curiosity shining bright.Ā
Ā
āDean gave this to me,ā Castiel explained, āweād been fighting; heād done something stupid and he was upset with how I chose to fix it. But weād reconciled and he wanted to apologize. Iād been about to leave, to search for you and your mother. Dean stopped me and gave me the tape.āĀ
Ā
Castiel had been confused at first, both by the gift itself and by Deanās flustered expression. Dean had been odd since his return from the government prison. He had been at turns dismissive and angry and other times seemingly longing for Castielās company, hanging in the doorway of the library just out of the corner of Castielās eye, unspeaking until Castiel acknowledged him.Ā
Ā
āWhat is it?ā Castiel had asked him, carefully removing the sparkly bow fastened to the top of the tape. Dean had shuffled his feet, his eyes flicking from the hallway walls to the interior of the guest room heād shown Cas to.Ā
Ā
āWell, I know you donāt know a lot of music, so I, uhāā Dean had cleared his throat. āI just wanted to give you something to listen to. Yāknow, when youāre driving.āĀ
Ā
Castiel had studied the tape; the scrawled label still made him smile. āThatās very thoughtful, Dean. Thank you.āĀ
Ā
Dean had shrugged, still not looking at Castiel. Something about the exchange had made him uncomfortable, although Castiel had never been able to determine what. But he remembered the traces of a blush heād seen crawling across Deanās cheeks, his shoulders high, hands stuffed in his pockets.
Ā
āItās nothing,ā Dean had mumbled. āJust thought you should have it. And I-I wanted to apologize, again. For being so crazy the last few weeks.āĀ
Ā
Castiel hadnāt been able to resist a smile, tucking the tape into his coat pocket and putting his hand on Deanās shoulder. āItās alright, Dean. I know you were just worried.āĀ
Ā
Dean had shrugged again and Castiel had drawn his hand back. āStill.āĀ
Ā
āWell, your apology is accepted,ā Castiel had said. He patted his coat pocket. āAnd I look forward to listening to this.āĀ
Ā
Dean had mumbled something under this breath, ducking his head. Castiel had had just a second to see the blush had fully darkened his cheeks before he turned away and walked down the hall.Ā
Ā
Castiel had heard all the songs before of course, even before Dean had given him the mixtape. He figured heād probably heard every song Led Zeppelin had ever written by this point, sitting in the backseat of the Impala over so many miles. But this particular arrangement had been new and Castiel had found he enjoyed it.Ā
Ā
Jack seemed to be enjoying it as well, judging by his happy burbles as Plant sang out why don't you show up and make it alright .Ā
Ā
āI like it too,ā Castiel said, and hummed along with the rest of the song.Ā
Ā
_
Ā
Castiel stopped the next morning at an overlook somewhere in New Mexico; Jack had been restless in the last hour of so, whining more and flailing his hands and feet. He could use the break and, judging by the growing irritability, a meal.Ā
Ā
āYouāve been very patient,ā he told Jack, patting his back gently to burp him. āWhen I first started driving, I found it just as tedious as walking. But youāre doing very well, Jack.āĀ
Ā
āFamily roadtrip?ā a voice asked. Castiel turned to see a woman standing a few yards away. She had a picnic basket in her arms, clearly extracted from the back of the minivan behind her. A group of children, presumably hers, were seated at another picnic table, laughing and pushing each other.Ā
Ā
āYes,ā Castiel said, āweāre travelling toāNevada. To meet up withāmy wife.ā Technically, not true; Castielās wife still lived in Colorado, as far as he knew. Although he had to wonder how valid any marriage could be when one spouse was an amnesiac found naked in a reservoir by the other spouse.Ā
Ā
He hoped Daphne was still alright; she had been much kinder to him than he had deserved.Ā Ā
Ā
āMe too,ā the woman said, āexcept weāre going in the other direction. She had a conference for work, but we figured the kids would like to join her for the weekend.āĀ
Ā
āMy wife thought similarly,ā Castiel said.Ā
Ā
āIt must be hard for her to be away from him so soon,ā the woman continued, hitching the picnic basket up on her hip. Jack burped and then promptly yawned. The woman sighed, her expression going a little soppy. āOh, theyāre so cute at this age.āĀ
Ā
āYes,ā Castiel said, resting his palm on Jackās back. āI'm very proud of him.āĀ
Ā
The children at the table started to yell excitedly, obviously the beginning of some well-worn argument. The woman rolled her eyes, glancing at them. āEnjoy him when heās this old. At least he hasnāt learned how to talk back yet.āĀ
Ā
Castiel was suddenly hit by the realization that Jack would grow. Heād known, logically, that Jack would grow as all humans did. That one day heād be a toddler, then a little boy, and many years from now, a young man, with his own wills and desires. It was staggering to think about, this little warm bundle in his arms, growing beyond Castiel until one day, he didnāt need Castiel at all.Ā
Ā
āI will,ā he said and helped Jack wave goodbye as the woman left to rejoin her family. Castiel waited until Jack started to drift off to sleep before heading back to the car.Ā
_
Ā
They arrived in Eureka early in the morning, having driven through the night and only stopped for gas and to feed and change Jack. Castiel was mastering the technique of changing a diaper quickly and effectively, if he said so himself. He felt his millennia as a strategist in Heaven had helped with that particular skill.Ā
Ā
Jack stirred awake as Castiel pulled to a stop by the curb. Castiel sighed, leaning forward on his elbows on the steering wheel. The street they were on was overshadowed by the water tower in the distance, proudly proclaiming the name of the town. It looked nice, the type of peaceful, idyllic neighborhood that he had seen portrayed on TV a dozen times.Ā
Ā
Castiel turned in his seat, looking back at Jack. The boy was blinking sleepily, his little hands balled into fists and his feet kicking in the air. He was probably due for a change and another meal.Ā
Ā
The task before himāfinding Jack a homeāsuddenly seemed insurmountable. Heād secured money, yes, and he could do the same thing every month to afford the rent. It wasnāt honest, but Castiel was desperate and getting a job and leaving Jack defenseless wasnāt an option. He glanced around at the homes lining the street they were on. Each of them seemed just as lovely as the next, small homes set in modest yards. Some had flower boxes lining their windows, many had driveways with cars parked in them.Ā
Ā
Castiel could picture Jack in any of these houses. Jack was a child; he didnāt have any desires for a house, other than it be stable and warm. Castiel had never had a home, not in a way a human would identify it. Heaven had been a place he existed, not a home. When Castiel longed for Heaven, he didnāt long for a place, or even his family, not really. He longed for a return to simplicity, an abdication of the struggle that came hand in hand with free will. He longed for the Heaven heād known before he first doubted, before heād uncovered the rot beneath the ivory coating. He knew too much now, had experienced too much, to ever go back to that. Besides, it wasnāt where he truly wanted to be.Ā
Ā
Jack started to fuss in the car seat, his face screwing up in a pout. Castiel could feel his hunger start to build.Ā Ā
Ā
āBreakfast?ā he asked. Jack squealed an exuberant agreement.Ā
Ā
Castiel considered. He could feed Jack here, of course, but maybe it would be nice to interact with the people of this town. Heād learned over the years that humans found nothing more suspicious than someone who did not interact with anyone. Of course, they also found people who interacted with others in a manner deemed socially unacceptable to be equally as suspicious, a tendency Castiel had run afoul of many times.Ā
Ā
But surely they could handle going to a restaurant and eating some breakfast. It would be a good way to establish themselves in the community, unlikely to garner any undue attention.
Ā
Castiel pulled into the parking lot of a diner that seemed promising; a run down building with red leather seats that the stuffing was bursting out of at the seams. He believed it could be called āretroā. It was about half full, with some families and a few individuals bent over newspapers and coffees. The kind of place Castiel and Jack would blend in, just another couple of humans getting something to eat.Ā
Ā
A woman in a checkered dress greeted them as soon as they walked in. āHi, welcome to Garyās. Grab a seat wherever.āĀ
Ā
Castiel glanced around at the positioning of other diners before claiming a booth near the back; from there, Castiel had a good view out the window as well as toward the main door. Jack, still secured in his car seat, went next to him.Ā
Ā
āHereās your menu,ā the waitress said.Ā
Ā
āThank you,ā he squinted at her name tag, āTabitha.āĀ
Ā
She smiled at him. āFor sure. Anything you want to start?āĀ
Ā
āCoffee, please.ā It would give him something to go with his hands at least. And humans didnāt like it if you tried to sit in a restaurant without ordering something. It was a theme heād noticed across many of the establishments heād visited when he was human. It had been a uniquely frustrating experience, being turned away for not buying anything but having no money to do so.Ā
Ā
āMilk and sugar?āĀ
Ā
āNo, thank you.ā
Ā
Tabitha left, returning shortly with a mug and a coffee carafe. Castiel smiled in thanks then turned back to Jack, lifting him from the car seat. Heād gotten Jackās feedings down to a smooth routineāJack tucked into his elbow, a cloth draped over his shoulder. He could sense the instant Jack needed to burp and transfer him expertly to his shoulder, gently patting his back until he was ready to feed again.Ā
Ā
With Jack fed, he went sleepily back into his car seat. Tabitha reappeared shortly after with that uncanny ability to sense when a customer was in need that so many servers seemed to have.Ā
Ā
āAnything to eat for yourself?ā she asked, looking at Jack with a smile.
Ā
āIāll have the special,ā Castiel said. One thing heād learned after all these years was that every diner like this had a breakfast special.Ā
Ā
āComing right up.āĀ
Ā
Castiel turned to his phone while he waited, poking listlessly at the screen. He remembered learning how to use this device over the years, from the flip phone that Dean had passed him back during the first apocalypse with his and Samās numbers already programmed in, as if Castiel was incapable of memorizing a couple ten digit numbers. Heād since been gifted with a newer āsmartphoneā which Sam had been kind enough to show him how to use. He had only two apps that hadnāt come with it. The Gas-N-Sip rewards app came in very handy as two different vehicles constantly driving cross country tended to spend a lot on fuel. Sometimes, he almost regretted telling Dean how to use it; he had a terrible tendency to redeem Casā hard earned points so he could buy himself snacks.Ā
Ā
The only other app he had was Instagram, downloaded solely so he could follow Claire. She only posted once every few months, usually a picture of a natural landscape, though sometimes shots of Alex and Jody snuck in. Castiel never dared to comment, but he liked every single one.Ā
Ā
There had been a time that even doing something as simple as that would have been beyond him. But heād learned over the years, not just how to do it, but why it mattered. How something as simple as clicking that heart would demonstrate the connection he felt to Claire.Ā
Ā
But there were still so many things about being human that heād never learned, even when heād been human himself and driven by the simple needs of his body. Heād learned to feed himself, but heād never learned to prepare anything more complex than a sandwich. Heād learned the need for shelter, the fact that he was a side sleeper, how his hip would hurt in the morning after hours pressed to the hard floor and the stretches that eased the pain the best. Heād even learned how to rent a motel room, the few times heād had the money and the thought of sleeping on the floor again made heat prick at his eyes.Ā
Ā
Everything he knew, heād learned through desperation or through example watching the Winchesters. Neither of those had ever included how to find a home.Ā
Ā
His musings were interrupted by the arrival of his plate of food. He thanked Tabitha and gingerly cut into the eggs on his plate. It would be suspicious to leave it all untouched. Better to eat half and leave the rest behind. The taste was awful, as all food was now with his grace. So many molecules.Ā
Ā
Between bites, he continued to poke around on his phone, throwing glances at Jack. Jack was deeply asleep, his head tipped to the side and his lips slack, a pool of drool gathering on his lips on the verge of sliding down his chin. Castiel folded his napkin and carefully wiped the drool away before it could.Ā
Ā
His desultory clicking on his phone had brought him back to Instagram. To his surprise, a new photo had been posted since heād last checked the app: a picture of a small wooden bridge, old and worn, crossing a wooded stream. It was picturesque, calming. Claire had captioned it with a tree and wave emoji.Ā
Ā
Another thing heād learned from humanity, this time explicitly from Claire. Sheād claimed after a dinner at Jodyās that she was tired of his āweird-assā texts and that she was going to show him how to text properly. Theyād ended up spending an hour reviewing emojis, what they were, and under what circumstances to use them.Ā
Ā
āNever, under any circumstances, use the eggplant emoji,ā she had told him, huddled on Jodyās couch beside him. His phone was in her hands; sheād just sent a text to Dean of a smiling cowboy and a puke face. Dean had texted back ?? .Ā
Ā
āNever?ā Castiel had asked. It seemed arbitrary.Ā
Ā
āWell,ā Claire had said, still smiling mischievously at Castielās phone. Her thumbs were moving quickly to pluck out another string of emojis. āIf you really like someone, then you can send one. But you gotta time it right, make sure theyāre into it. No one wants an unsolicited eggplant emoji.ā She seemed to be trying desperately not to laugh.Ā
Ā
Castielās phone had dinged. In response to Claireās new string of emojis - a string of wink emojis and kissy lips - Dean had texted back WTF .Ā
Ā
āHow do I know when itās appropriate?āĀ
Ā
Claire had smiled at him. It had made her look her age for once. āYouāll know.āĀ
Ā
Later, Castiel had looked it up and agreed with Claireās assessment. At the time, heād reclaimed his phone and sent Dean an apology text: Claire had my phone :( Ā
Ā
that explains it, Dean had replied.
Ā
she was teaching me how to use emoticons :D Ā
Ā
theres rules to that? Ā
Ā
Yes. She also said I shouldnāt use proper punctuation.
Ā
guess ur ignoring that one
Ā
I havenāt decided yet.Ā
She said I shouldnāt use the eggplant emoji XD Ā
Ā
Castiel had watched the three dots that indicated Dean was typing a message appear and disappear five times before they disappeared for good. Dean, ultimately, left Castiel āon readā.Ā
Ā
He looked at the photo a moment longer. Claire was a good photographerāhe could almost feel the peace the photo invoked through his phone. Heād told her that once; sheād seemed embarrassed to have her skill recognized, scuffing the ground with her shoe and muttering under her breath that it was stupid while her face slowly went red. It was a reaction that he recognized from seeing Deanās own reaction any time Castiel had paid him a compliment. As with Dean, he hoped Claire would one day believe him and be able to accept the compliment without fuss. He hoped, with every like, she would get a little bit closer. He carefully clicked the heart.Ā
Ā
Jack murmured and shifted in his chair, his little hands curling in fists briefly before relaxing again. It would be nice to introduce Jack and Claire. To see her hold him, see the fondness in her face when she rolled her eyes at Jackās baby noises. She pretended to be tough but he had a feeling that Jack would break right through her defenses.Ā
Ā
Maybe, someday, they could have that.Ā
Ā
But for now, they needed a place to live. And maybe, he considered slowly, Claire could help with that.Ā
Ā
Claire, he knew, had little more experience renting a home than he did, considering the questionable stability of her life between Amyās departure and Claireās arrival at Jodyās. But she was human and had been all her life. She had a cultural awareness that Castiel lacked, gleaning what he could from half watched TV shows and the Winchesters, who were not exactly experts on normal human behaviour. If there was anyone in his very short list of allies who might be able to help with this, Claire was it.Ā
Ā
It would be foolish to call her. After all, Claire was just as familiar with the Winchesters as with him, and the Winchesters hadnāt been the one who tore her family apart and got her father killed. She was likely to tell the Winchesters sheād spoken to him, at the very least. She was even more likely to tell Jody, who would then probably tell the Winchesters.Ā
Ā
But he missed her and he wanted to hear her voice. Castiel placed the call before he could think better of it.Ā
Ā
Surprisingly, Claire picked up. Castiel had expected to have to leave a message and wait for her to call him back; after all, she had been the one to tell him that āonly old people actually answer their phone when it rings.āĀ
Ā
āHey, Cas,ā she said. She sounded tired, her voice rough and drawing out the syllables a little longer than usual.Ā
Ā
āHello, Claire,ā Castiel said. He forced himself to sound normal rather than concerned. It was always hard to tell whether Claire would appreciate his worry or not. āHow are you?āĀ
Ā
āIām fine,ā she said, clearly in the middle of a yawn. āJust finished up with a ghoul near Milwaukee. Gonna head back home soon.āĀ
Ā
Castiel frowned. That was quite a drive and if Claire was finishing the hunt now, sheād probably been up all night. No wonder she sounded tired. āMaybe you should head back tomorrow, get some sleep first.āĀ Ā
Ā
He could practically hear Claire rolling her eyes down the phone. āJeez, Cas, youāre such a nag,ā she said, sounding that combination of off-put and fond that she and Dean seemed to be such masters of. āIām fine. Iāve pulled all-nighters before.āĀ
Ā
āThatās not a healthy practice.āĀ
Ā
āYeah, yeah.ā He could hear the faint sound of rustling on her end, what sounded like the crinkling of a bag. She continued with her mouth full, chewing loudly in his ear. She was probably eating potato chips for breakfast again, a habit Castiel despaired of. āSo, whyād you call? Not to talk about my hunt.āĀ
Ā
Castiel frowned to himself. He didnāt just get in touch when he needed something from Claire, did he? No, he texted her all the time just to check in, even sent her photos of things he saw that he thought she might appreciate. Sheād been upset when heād āghostedā her when he was possessed by Lucifer and heād made an effort since then to keep in touch with her on a regular basis. It had led to some interesting internet rabbit holesāhe'd once spent an entire night researching the sexual orientation of a creature called the Babadook due to one of her texts.Ā
Ā
āI do contact you outside of hunting,ā he said, hoping it didnāt sound defensive or hurt and abjectly certain heād failed at both.Ā
Ā
āI know that, Iām notāā she cut herself off with a sigh. āCas, what is it? Not that itās not nice to hear from you but I want to get on the road.ā
Ā
Castiel sighed. Claire could be prickly and sometimes wasnāt in the mood to talk. Of course, sometimes she was in the mood to talk and wanted Castiel to break through her defenses and keep engaging her, all while she pretended she didnāt want him to. The behaviour reminded him a lot of Dean, which Castiel assumed he would find unflattering considering Claireās age and gender, as if that made some kind of difference. They were truly exhausting sometimes.Ā
Ā
Castiel sighed himself, glancing at Jack. He was still sleeping, drool starting to gather on his lower lip again. Best to be direct, then. He could text Claire later when she wasnāt so tired. āI need your help finding a house.āĀ
Ā
Claire snorted over the sound of more rustling. āWhat, Sam and Dean kick you out?āĀ
Ā
āNot,ā Castiel stuttered, taken off guard by the response, āNot exactly.āĀ
Ā
āSo, then what?ā Claire asked, words warped again around the presumably-potato chips.Ā
Ā
Castiel wondered how best to explain; a lot had happened in the last few weeks, none of which Claire was probably aware of. Heād gotten the sense over the last weeks that Claire had no idea heād left the Winchestersā side. She had certainly never asked about it, seemingly content sending emojis in reply to whatever photo he texted her. For once, Castiel was grateful for the Winchesters' inability to share with their family.Ā
Ā
āHang on,ā he said, lowering the phone from his ear. He took a quick picture of Jack; Jack stirred at the sound of the shutter, his eyes blinking sleepily open and shut again. Castiel absently wiped the drool from his mouth with his sleeve, sending the photo with his other hand. āThere, Iāve sent you a picture.ā
Ā
There was a short silence as Claire checked her phone, followed by a loud and strangled noise.Ā
Ā
āClaire? Are you alright?ā Castiel asked. Sudden images of the ghoul returning, not quite dead, to attack Claire danced through his mind.Ā
Ā
Claire was suddenly back on the line, her voice loud. āWhere the fuck did you get a kid?āĀ
Ā
Castiel frowned. āThatās hardly appropriate language for someone your age.āĀ
Ā
āOkay, youāre literally older than dirt, so I donāt think your opinion counts,ā Claire scoffed. āAnd that is so beyond the point and you know it. Whoās kid is that?āĀ
Ā
Mine , said everything in Castielās being. But that would only confuse Claire more.Ā
Ā
āHeāsāLuciferās child,ā he said, reluctantly, ātechnically.āĀ Ā
Ā
āWhat? He had a kid,ā Claire said, more statement than question. Then, horrified, āOh my god, while he was possessing you?Ā
Ā
āWhatāno. He wasnāt possessing me when Jack was conceived.ā Castiel glanced around warily, but thankfully no one was close enough to overhear their conversation. Heād learned through hard experience that humans, even those in the hunting world, had a habit of reacting strongly to conversations like this.Ā
Ā
Claire sighed, sounding relieved. āThatās something. But why do you have Lucifer's kid? Isnāt he going to...want him back?āĀ
Ā
āLucifer is dead.ā
Ā
āDevilās dead, thatās cool,ā Claire said, with that blase tone she always had when confronted with something that would make most humans at least pause. That tone always made Castiel smile. āAnd what, you just adopted his kid?ā
Ā
āIn a sense, yes,ā Castiel said, the words edging closer to that part of him that felt so possessive of Jack, so protective of him, the part of him that was still echoing with the word fatherhood , even all these weeks after Crowley had said it. āHis mother asked me too.ā
Ā
āAnd whereās she?āĀ
Ā
āAlso dead,ā Castiel admitted with a pang, quietly, as if Jack would wake up and hear him.Ā Ā
Ā
Claire was silent for a long moment. āOkay, let me see if I've got this straight. Lucifer had a kid, then died. Baby mama somehow found you, decided you were dad material, and also died. And now you have a baby. Who is also the literal spawn of Satan.āĀ
Ā
Castiel sighed deeply, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. āYouāve made it sound ridiculous. But that is essentially correct.āĀ
Ā
Claire burst into laughter, loud and long. Castiel bore it patiently, a smile tugging at his lips at the sound.Ā
Ā
āGod, your life is so weird,ā she finally said, laughter running through her words. āShit like this doesnāt just happen to people, what the hell.ā Castiel wasnāt sure if he was meant to respond to that so he decided to stay quiet instead, waiting on the line while Claire gathered herself.
Ā
She finally finished laughing with a long sigh. āYou know your life is a cosmic joke, right?ā she asked, wryly.Ā
Ā
Castiel snorted. āThe thought has occurred to me before.āĀ
Ā
āSo, wait, where are Sam and Dean in all this?ā Claire asked. āAnd why do you need a house?āĀ
Ā
Castiel hesitated. Maybe it had been a mistake going to Claire for help. He knew she would be curious but the more he explained, the more it felt he was stepping over some invisible line, dragging her into something he had no business dragging her into. Hadnāt he inflicted enough damage on Claireās life?Ā
Ā
Heād hesitated too long. āCas?ā she asked. She paused before continuing, something small in her voice, āyou still there?āĀ
Ā
It spoke to her forgiving nature, as much as she would balk to be labelled as such, that she would show concern for him. It also spoke to the abandonment sheād experienced over her life, that she would feel so vulnerable expressing it, even in this mild way.Ā
Ā
Maybe it was foolish to call Claire. But he loved her and it had been too long since heād heard her voice. He forged ahead.Ā
Ā
āJack is a nephilim, Luciferās nephilim. Heās very powerful,ā Castiel said.Ā
Ā
āDoesnāt seem that powerful,ā Claire interrupted. She already sounded much more secure. āHeās cute, though. Bit drooly.āĀ
Ā
āClaire,ā Castiel sighed.Ā
Ā
āHey, youāre the one not explaining.āĀ
Ā
āIām trying to, if you would stop interrupting me.āĀ
Ā
Claire snorted. āYeah, whatever.āĀ
Ā
Castiel sighed again, making sure it was loud enough for Claire to hear clearly. He could just catch her laughter on the other end. āAs I was saying, heās a very powerful child.ā He paused, again. āThe Winchesters want to remove his grace.āĀ
Ā
āAnd you donāt want that,ā Claire guessed.Ā Ā
Ā
Castiel looked at Jack; he was starting to wake up now, blinking sleepily up at him. Castiel brushed his hand over Jackās tuft of hair and felt the flare of his happiness.Ā
Ā
āHis grace is a part of him, just as mine is part of me. It belongs with him.āĀ
Ā
Claire paused for a long moment, the line silent.Ā
Ā
āYou sure thatās a good decision?ā She finally asked, sounding uncertain. āI justāI know Sam and Dean can be stupid sometimes, but I figure they wouldnāt wanna do it if they didnāt have a good reason.āĀ
Ā
Castiel wondered briefly where this sudden faith in the Winchesters was coming from; from what he remembered of their relationship, Claire had not been especially fond of either of them. Sheād even been afraid of Dean at one point, after that incident with the loan shark and her friend. But of course, that had been some years ago and things changed quickly for humans.Ā
Ā
And things had, inevitably, changed after the recent encounter with the werewolf. Heād gone to see Claire shortly after that, concerned by what the Winchesters had told him. Although sheād shrugged off his concern, he could see the experience had deeply frightened her. Of course she would feel kinder toward the Winchesters now, after theyād helped her through that.Ā
Ā
And the truth of the matter was, Castiel had no reason to expect the benefit of the doubt from her. Not from Claire, not after the way he had imploded her entire life. It made more sense for her to trust the Winchesters over him.Ā
Ā
āThere may come a time when Jack decides to give up his grace,ā Castiel tried to explain.
āThatās his right. But that decision canāt be made for him, especially not when heās an infant. Heās only a child, Claire. He needs to be protected, notāstolen from.āĀ
Ā
Not like Castiel had stolen from Claire. Taken her father from her then got him killed in the name of a mission that he had never explained to her. Taken Claireās own body when she was just a child, put her and her mother through a traumatic experience; taken Claireās mother through his negligence then failed to return her. He had thoroughly and systematically destroyed her family, as only an angel could. And here he was, asking her to show kindness toward him and a child heād claimed that sheād never received from him.Ā
Ā
It all seemed so unforgivable.Ā
Ā
Claire was silent over the phone. He never should have called her, not for this. Asking her for help to care for another child after so magnificently ruining her own childhood must seem like salt in the wound.Ā
Ā
āWhat do you need?ā Claire finally asked. Her voice was flat and hollow.
Ā
Castiel closed his eyes. He hadnāt meant to be cruel to her. āIām sorry.āĀ
Ā
āI know you are,ā she said, voice still dead. āWhat do you need?āĀ
Ā
Castiel sighed. She reminded him so much of Dean sometimes.Ā
Ā
āIām...trying to find a house. Somewhere for us to live,ā he said, reluctantly.Ā
Ā
Claire snorted. It was derisive, but at least it was an emotion. āWhat do I know about buying a house?āĀ
Ā
āNot buying, renting is fine. And youāre much more savvy in human life than I could ever hope to be,ā Castiel said, letting the last sentence come out wry, inviting Claire in on the joke.Ā
Ā
āNot like itās hard,ā she said, but he could hear in her voice that she was warming again. He could never quite believe it, how simple it was for her to move forward.Ā
Ā
āI donāt know where to find a house, Cas. Maybe try Craigslist?ā she said.Ā
Ā
Castiel took a risk. āWho is Craig and where do I find his list?āĀ
Ā
The question was a gamble but Castiel had learned long ago the benefits of playing stupid. He heard Claire huff over the phone and knew she was rolling her eyes, that crooked smile playing over her face. He decided to chalk it up as a win.Ā
Ā
āItās a website, dummy,ā she said. āPeople post ads for things they want to sell. Or rent, in this case.āĀ
Ā
Claire was kind enough to talk him through locating the website, which he pulled up on his phone. It was simple from there to find the appropriate section for house rentals.Ā
Ā
Castiel brought the phone back to his ear. āThis is exactly what I needed. Thank you, Claire.āĀ
Ā
āYouāre gonna need money, too,ā she said.
Ā
āI have that covered.ā He paused. āI really do mean it, Claire. Thank you.āĀ
Ā
She scoffed but it sounded sweet. āWhatever. Justāfind someplace nice for that kid, okay? I figure heās gonna have it hard enough.ā
Ā
āI will.ā He paused again, rubbing his fingers over Jackās head. Jack cooed and leaned into the touch, his little hand flapping up to grab at Castielās fingers. āI know he would like to meet you. Maybe you could visit sometime?āĀ
Ā
āMaybe.ā But Claire sounded pleased; he could hear the smile in her voice. Heād done something right.Ā
Ā
He smiled. āIāll speak to you soon.āĀ
Ā
They said their goodbyes and Castiel realized, hanging up, that he hadnāt explicitly asked Claire not to contact the Winchesters. He supposed it was for the best. Maybe she would tell them sheād heard from him, maybe she wouldnāt. Maybe she would eventually come to visit, with the Winchesters in tow, and all this running would have been for nothing.Ā Ā
Ā
Whatever happened, it was worth it for the opportunity to speak to her. To think about her smile, hear her laugh. To know that despite the trespasses heād committed against her, he hadnāt destroyed her spirit.Ā
Ā
āThat was Claire,ā he said to Jack, āyouāll like her.āĀ
Ā
_
Ā
After Castiel had unlocked the secrets of Craigslist, finding an appropriate house didnāt take long. He settled on a one bedroom home on K Street, a residential street overlooked by the water tower and within walking distance of the zoo. It was a squat, little house, set back far enough from the road to have a small front yard. The green of the grass first drew Castielās eye, but his decision to pick it was made when he saw the stained glass window in the photo included of the kitchen. It caught the light, refracting it across the wood floor in warm tones. Castiel looked at the picture and imagined placing the kitchen table below that window, how it would catch the light in the morning. Jack would be lit by that light as Castiel fed him breakfast, while he did his homework after school.Ā Ā
Ā
He imagined sitting beside Jack in that kitchen, watching him do his science homework and telling him about blackholes, offering to show him one in person, and felt good. Most importantly, he thought, thumbing through the photos again, he thought Kelly would like it.Ā
Ā
He held the phone out to Jack, who was just starting to wake up in the car seat. āWhat do you think of this one?ā he asked. Jack squinted his eyes open and blinked in bleary agreement.
Ā
Castiel texted the landlord and secured a viewing for that afternoon. They spent the time in between sitting in the car by the pier, Jack napping in the car seat and Castiel studying the incoming tide.Ā
Ā
A prayer from Dean came while he was waiting, the first since heād decided to settle in Eureka.Ā
Ā
Cas, look, Iām sorry about what I said. I didnātāI was angry. Iām...Iām worried, man. We all are. We havenāt had any luck tracking you, everything keeps going cold. Dean paused for a long moment and Castiel could feel his borrowed heart pounding in his chest. But Iām not giving up, okay? Weāre gonna find you. Somehow.Ā
Ā
Castiel swallowed heavily and looked down at his hands, folded in his lap, until it was time to go.Ā
Ā
The viewing went well. The landlord, Julio, was punctual and friendly, and Castiel used the opportunity presented by the handshake to discreetly search through his mind. He had a family at home, a husband and two children. The house he was hoping to rent had been owned by his mother until her death two years ago. Thankfully, she had not died inside the house; Castiel would be glad to not have to disperse a ghost in their prospective home. The property itself had so much sentimental value that Julio could not bear to part with it by selling and had decided to rent instead, even though his family could have used the money from the sale. He had been hoping to rent to a family, and the sight of Jack, sleepy in his sling, had charmed him immediately.Ā
Ā
The viewing hadnāt taken very long. Julio had shown him around the property, pointing out the stairs that led up to the small loft space, advising on the space in the living room, how the bedroom would be more than enough to fit a bed and a crib. How the loft could be used as a bedroom for Jack, once he was old enough. He was speaking from experience, Castiel realized. Julio had shared the loft space with his brother growing up but had found it stifling as he went into his teenage years.Ā
Ā
āHeāll want his own space when heās old enough. My girls shared until they were nine but after that, we just had to move. Needed the extra bedroom,ā Julio said fondly.Ā
Ā
āIām sure Jack will love it,ā Castiel said, carefully not mentioning the fact that the loft would almost certainly go unused as Castiel lacked a need for sleep. In any case, the words seemed to be the correct combination, as Julio smiled and moved on to the kitchen.Ā
Ā
The stained glass window was even more beautiful in person. Jack cooed at the sight, and Castiel could feel his fascination with it, smiling as he waved his hands as if trying to chase the multi coloured lights.Ā
Ā
āMy father had that put in. Heād always been a very devout Catholic; I think he wanted to have a bit of the church at home with him,ā Julio said.Ā
Ā
āItās lovely,ā Castiel said. āItās what initially drew me to this place over the others I saw.ā Jack whined, as if not wanting to be left out. āAnd Jack as well, of course.āĀ
Ā
Julio briefly showed them the backyard before leading them back toward the front of the house. Castiel realized suddenly that he had no idea how to proceed from here. Was he meant to act coy, pretend as if he didnāt want the house to start a haggling session? Or was he meant to profess his desire for the property immediately, so as to secure it right away and ensure no other potential renters came sniffing around?Ā
Ā
āI would like to rent this home,ā he finally settled on. He knew many times he was too blunt, but he figured straight-forward was better. At least it was less confusing although it also had a habit of putting people off.Ā
Ā
And Julio did, in fact, look a little put-off, Castiel noted with resignation.Ā
Ā
āThatās great,ā Julio said, in a tone that indicated his statement was a slight exaggeration. āI can get you an application and after I check your references, Iāll be in touch.āĀ
Ā
No, that wouldnāt do at all. Castiel didnāt know what this application would entail, but he was almost certain that it would require documents he had no access to. He had no official ID, only the fake FBI badges that the Winchesters had taught him how to make and Jimmy Novakās old driverās license. Neither, he was sure, would suffice. And he had no references to give, no one to vouch for him, other than possibly Claire. But he had already asked her for more than enough. More than she should have had to give.Ā
Ā
None of his experience in human life had ever prepared him for this. He dug through everything that the Winchesters had ever told him, through all the human writings Metatron had forced into his mind, and came up with nothing. Nothing except Deanās voice, from long ago: When we want something, really, really badly, we lie.Ā
Ā
āThank you,ā Castiel said, and held out his hand for Julio to shake. Julio grabbed it automatically, compelled by human custom. Castiel took the opportunity and impressed on Julioās mind the knowledge that heād received the completed application and checked with Castielās references and received only stellar remarks. He was comfortable renting this house to Castiel, knowing that it would be in good hands.Ā
Ā
The coercion didnāt make Castiel proud, but needs must. That, at least, he had learned from the Winchesters.Ā
Ā
A few minutes later, Castiel was standing alone in front of the house that now belonged to him, holding the keys in one hand. It was a strange feeling, having a home. He sighed, resting his palm on the top of Jackās head.Ā
Ā
āAre you ready to go inside?ā he asked. Jack burbled in agreement and Castiel turned to enter their new home.Ā
Ā
_
Ā
All that remained then, was the question of what to do about the Winchesters.Ā
Ā
Jackās pursuers would never stop hunting him, Castiel knew that. But he could protect this property with sigils in the foundations, hidden on the walls, hex bags stuffed into corners. And he could protect Jack himself with similar methods until Jack was old enough to protect himself.Ā
Ā
The probability of the Winchesters ever finding them seemed low with the precautions heād taken. But that hadnāt stopped them searching; Deanās prayers seemed to come more frequently now. They werenāt always anything coherent, sometimes just ramblings of a drunk man or stray thoughts and emotions. Castiel didnāt even know if Dean knew he was doing it half the time.Ā
Ā
But the clear fact remained that he lingered on Deanās mind, in a way he only ever seemed to do when he was absent. And he knew he would continue to linger, a constant hope that dragged Dean ever onward, never letting him rest as he deserved.Ā
Ā
It was cruel to continue to allow that. And Castiel had never wanted to be cruel to Dean. Yet, he still hesitated.
Ā
A week and a half into their life in Eureka, Dean prayed while Castiel was feeding Jack at the little table heād found discarded in an alley behind someoneās house. Dean was clearly distraught, his voice thick and rough.Ā
Ā
Please, Cas. Please. Just give me some kind of sign, okay? Anything, Iāll take anything. Itās been weeks since Crowley saw you. Are you even still out there? I donāt even know if you can hear me. Justāplease. Please. If you can hear me, gimme something.Ā
Ā
Castiel had promised himself, after the crypt, that he would never put Dean in a position to beg him for anything. Not again. He always seemed to hurt Dean, no matter how much he tried not to, no matter how much he never wanted to in the first place. He would hurt Dean, and Dean would be angry and they would fight and then let it go. And then the cycle would continue anew, stretching on and on, without end.Ā
Ā
Castiel looked at Jack, nestled comfortably in his arms. As predicted, the light shone through the stained glass window, creeping into the corners of the room and touching Jackās face with color. He whined a little as Castiel watched him, settling only when Castiel drew a soothing thumb across his cheek.Ā
Ā
It was time to finally break the cycle.Ā
Ā
_
Ā
It had been a long time since Castiel had dream-walked. He made a few false starts before he got it right.Ā
Ā
Even when heād had his wings before, dream walking had never been a habit of his. For most of his existence, there had been no need for it; it had come in useful on a handful of occasions but it had been far from a necessity. It seemed, in the years since heād done it last, heād lost some of the knack for it. Muscle memory, as a human would understand it.Ā
Ā
Jack would have to come with him; Castiel couldnāt leave him in the house alone. Time moved differently in dreams than in the waking world, but even leaving Jack alone for a few minutes seemed too long. Judging by the misgiving that leaked off Jack when he caught the thought from Castielās mind, he agreed.Ā
Ā
āIāll hide you, in the dream,ā Castiel said.Ā
Ā
The first time he flew, he overshot and ended up in the dream of an Amazon delivery worker in Massachusetts. It was pleasant enough, just a small dream of spending time with family back home in New York. Castiel course corrected and missed again, settling in the dream of a young boy in Lebanon, dreaming peacefully of a space ship piloted by a dilophosaurus. Jack, made invisible by Castiel, squealed with delight. Castiel indulged him and they stayed until the space shuttle landed on Jupiter.Ā
Ā
Castiel again took flight and realized heād landed correctly immediately. He didnāt have to look further than the distinctive black car, parked innocently in front of the bar he stood before.Ā
Ā
After a momentary pause, Castiel entered the building. It looked vaguely familiar, some parts of the decor resonating while others were more faded and worn, as if the dream was thinner there. It was an amalgamation, Castiel realized, some facsimile of a bar created in Deanās mind from all the bars heād been to over his lifetime.Ā
Ā
Castiel looked out over the patrons; there were only a few, gathered together in small clumps at tables and booths. His eyes swept over the bar itself and there they stopped.Ā
Ā
Dean was leaning forward on his arms, folded on top of the bar. He was facing away from the entrance, away from Castiel, so all he could see was the broad expanse of Deanās back and the short spikes of his hair. He didnāt notice the foreign intrusion into his dream, totally absorbed in the person next to him.Ā
Ā
It was a bizarre sensation, staring at a person who had the same face as you, while that face did not actually belong to you. Jimmy Novak had spent more time wearing that face, even though his soul had never touched the body Castiel currently inhabited. To the people who loved Jimmy, this would always be his face first and Castielās second. And yet, Castiel must have started to identify his appearance, such as it was, with this body, for it to be so affecting.
Ā
The other Castiel, the one from Deanās dream, was also leaning forward on his folded arms, mirroring Deanās posture. He seemed just as intent on their conversation, deaf and blind to all else around him.Ā
Ā
Castiel hesitated then wandered closer. As he did so, the bar fell into better detail, the fuzzy corners becoming a little clearer with each step he took toward Dean, his specific dreamerās vision bringing it all into focus. Soon, Castiel was close enough to hear their voices, Dean and the dream.Ā
Ā
āI have to go,ā the dream said.Ā
Ā
All at once, the scene fell into place. Castiel remembered this conversation. It was the bar heād gone to with Dean, where he broke the news that he would be returning to Heaven on the completion of the trials. Their last conversation before it had all fallen apart so spectacularly, another of Castielās failures.Ā
Ā
He remembered how heād felt thenāthe desperation to fix his mistakes, no matter what happened to him, the cloying guilt drowning him at every turn. The fear that had been driving him since heād understood exactly what Naomi was doing to him. And the longing he was only truly beginning to comprehend that treasured every glance and touch, that ached to stay at Deanās side anyway, even though closing the gates of Heaven would ensure Dean the peace he so desperately deserved.Ā
Ā
Heād thought, in that moment, that he was ensuring Dean could have it all, peace and freedom. He should have known, then; nothing like that ever came without a steep price.Ā
Ā
Jack squirmed in his arms, hidden away in the sling on his chest. Castiel put his hand on him, holding him close.Ā
Ā
A part of him wondered if he was simply being naive again, putting this much faith in Jack. He was just a boy; maybe having such lofty expectations for him was too much. But at his core, he knew it was different this time. Jack was a child, innocent and good, where Metatron had been a power-grubbing sycophantic narcissist. They couldnāt be more different. And regardless of whatever faith Castiel had in Jack, he deserved to live, happy and free of concern. And Jack believed in Castiel. Heād chosen him. Castiel couldnāt remember the last time someone had chosen him, simply for him.Ā
Ā
In front of him, Dean and the dream were continuing, unaware of Castielās presence. Castielās memory was goodāhe didnāt need to watch to remember every word of this conversation, the expressions on Deanās face. The way heād stared at Castiel for a long moment, something Castiel still couldnāt define in his eyes, before he blinked and looked away and it disappeared, lost behind a sip of Deanās drink and a pop culture reference Castiel had had no hope of understanding then.Ā
Ā
The dream version of Castiel went to stand, pushing himself away from the bar. And then, the dream suddenly diverged from memory, when Deanās arm reached out and grabbed Castielās.Ā
Ā
āWait,ā he said. Castiel could see the white knuckled grip he had on the dreamās arm. āCas, wait.āĀ
Ā
āI have to go, Dean,ā the dream said, sadly.Ā
Ā
āNo, you donāt,ā Dean insisted, standing up. āYouāthese trials, it's not what you think, man. Metatron, heās tricking you.āĀ
Ā
Castiel wondered at this interaction. Dean seemed to both be remembering this moment and the moments that followed after. It seemed so pointless, but it was Deanās mind, after all, which loved to torture him with thoughts of things out of his control that he could never change.Ā
Ā
The dream wasnāt listening, acting out his role in whatever this was. āI have to do this, Dean.āĀ
Ā
āNo,ā Dean said again. He tugged on the dreamās arm hard, dragging him closer. āYou don't gotta do jack shit, Cas. You don't have to leaveāā Dean stumbled to a stop, the fire of his anger abating. āI just got you back, man. Please.āĀ
Ā
Abruptly, Castiel couldnāt bear it. Whatever the dream was going to say next would be terrible, no matter what it was. If he decided to go after this, Castiel would hate him for it. And if he decided to stay, that would be worse.Ā
Ā
Gently, Castiel exerted his influence over the dreamscape. The bar faded away, the patrons disappearing along with their drinks. Trees sprouted up to replace them, the floor became a shimmering lake and Castiel turned again to find Dean now sitting on a chair at the end of a dock, a fishing rod held loosely in his hand. It was the only place Cas had ever seen Dean at peace in his dreams.Ā
Ā
Castiel hesitantly approached him, the dock creaking under his feet. Dean didnāt seem to notice him at first, absorbed by the water in front of him. It let Castiel linger in silence for a long moment, studying that face in profile. This face, this body and the soul it housed, it had all become more dear to him than he ever could have imagined, diving into Hell all those years ago. He was glad to see Dean again, even if only one last time.Ā
Ā
Dean shifted in his chair, blinking out at the sunlight bouncing off the water as he leaned back. It must have been far enough for him to register the presence of another, because he looked straight at Castiel suddenly. There was no shock on his face, no surprise. He was looking up at Castiel with an easy expression, the beginning of a smile hidden in the corners of his mouth.Ā
Ā
āHey, Cas,ā he said.Ā
Ā
āHello, Dean,ā Castiel said, softly. The hidden smile burst out into a lovely grin that crinkled Deanās eyes. Castiel found himself unable to resist smiling back, the part of him that always turned to Dean like a flower to sunlight basking in its glow.Ā
Ā
āWhat are you doing here, man? I thought you were gonna be at work until six,ā Dean said. He placed his fishing rod to the side, wedging it into the tackle box so the line stayed steady.Ā
Ā
Castiel wondered what exactly Dean was dreaming. He knew that Dean had had this dream many times before; it had a well-worn feel, like the t-shirts the Winchesters slept in, gone threadbare over the years. Whenever Castiel had soothed Deanās dreams of Hellāalways a clandestine act, hidden from both his superiors and Dean himselfāthis dock had usually been the place he found Deanās mind turning to.Ā
Ā
But Castiel had only been within this dream once, on the run and desperate to keep ahead of his brethren. And now, Dean had made him part of the narrative. He wondered what his role was, what job Deanās subconscious had thought him appropriate for. He put the thought from his mind.Ā
Ā
It wouldnāt be right to play into this fantasy; he shouldnāt drag this out longer than he had to.Ā Ā
Ā
āYou asked for a sign,ā he said, then spread his arms a little to his sides, as if saying, here I am .Ā
Ā
Dean looked at him in confusion, his smile fading and his brow crinkling. As with all things, except for those deliberately blotted out by others, Castiel knew the memory of that smile would live safely in his mind.Ā
Ā
Realization bloomed slowly on Deanās face. āIām dreaming,ā he said.Ā
Ā
āYes.ā
Ā
Dean stood, eyes fixed on Cas. His gaze was clearer now, direct. All traces of the contentment that had been lining his face wasĀ gone completely, replaced by doubt and suspicion. āBut...are you actually here?āĀ
Ā
āI am,ā Castiel said, āIām...sorry to have not come sooner.ā He dropped his gaze to the dock. āI know youāve been looking for me.āĀ
Ā
āYeah, no shit, Cas,ā Dean said, harshly. His doubt had burned up, consumed by anger. āMe and Sam have been searching all over for you, tearing the freakinā country apart. Where the hell have you been?āĀ
Ā
āIāve been...around,ā Castiel said. He still couldnāt make himself look at Dean.Ā
Ā
Dean snorted, his eyebrows raising disbelievingly. āAround? Thatās all you got?āĀ
Ā
Castiel sighed. āItās safer if I donāt tell you, Dean. I havenāt been on the move for no reason.ā
Ā
Castiel could feel Deanās eyes, sharp and hot on him. He made himself look back up, met that keen gaze. āThere something after you?ā Dean asked.Ā
Ā
Castiel nodded. āMany somethings.āĀ
Ā
āWait, is this because of Rosemary's baby?ā Dean asked with a frown, āDamien Junior?āĀ
Ā
āI thought Damien was the child.ā
Ā
Dean rolled his eyes, expansively. āSemantics, Cas, itās still the devilās hopped up kid. Where is it?ā
Ā
Castiel swore his expression didnāt change, his limbs didnāt move to enclose Jack more securely, hidden from Deanās sight against his chest. āSafe. Heās safe.āĀ
Ā
And somehow, Dean knew anyway. āItās with you?āĀ
Ā
A sharp rush of anger washed through Castiel. āYes, he is. Heās an infant of unimaginable power. Anything that wants to grow their powerbase wants him now. I couldnāt leave him alone.āĀ
Ā
Dean stared at him, shaking his head in disbelief. āWhatās your plan here, Cas? You and the kid gonna go all Fugitive forever?ā
Ā
āIf need be.ā
Ā
Dean threw his hands in the air. āCāmon, Cas, heās controlling you! You said it yourself, he has unimaginable power. You telling me a little mind control is outside his wheel-house?āĀ
Ā
Castiel resisted his own desire to gesture in frustration, limiting himself looking away and gritting his teeth. Jack was starting to get restless in the sling, his feet kicking at the fabric, distressed whines low in his throat.Ā
Ā
Castiel faced Dean again, trying to remain calm. āHe is very powerful. Iām sure the things heāll one day be capable of will be astonishing. But heās still a child, Dean. Heās not controlling me or making me act against my own will.āĀ
Ā
āHow can you even know? It wouldnāt be the first time someone managed to get in your head,ā Dean said.Ā
Ā
Naomi. Rowena. Even the souls from Purgatory, the Leviathans. Dean was right; Castiel had been used as a weapon too many times to trust blindly. And he hadnāt trusted Jack at first, had thought him just as corrupt as his progenitor, even in the womb. But that belief had been shaken, standing in that basement with Kelly. It had been shaken even more, feeling Jackās tiny feet kicking in that hotel room. And it had disappeared entirely at Heavenās gate, washed away in the flood of Jackās grace and belief.Ā
Ā
Jack had believed in him first, chosen him first. Castiel had been helpless to do anything but choose him in return.Ā
Ā
āIāve learned from my mistakes, Dean,ā he said.Ā
Ā
Dean heaved a long sigh, rubbing a hand down his face. āLook, Cas, I get it, you feel responsible for the thing. You think because you said yes to Lucifer, taking care of it is your job.ā Dean fixed him with a look, heavy with understanding. āBut itās not. Youāre not this thingās father.āĀ
Ā
And he was right. Castiel wasnāt Jack's father, not by blood or grace or any other measure. Other than the desire Jack had for him, the longing Castiel sensed when Jack opened his eyes and didnāt see him right away, the peace he felt held in Castielās arms. He wasnāt Jackās father, but he was, in all the ways that mattered.Ā
Ā
Deanās hands came up, grabbing him by each arm. His face was painted in lines of desperation. āYou gotta come home, Cas. Throw off his control, tell me where you are. Iāll come get you.āĀ
Ā
And Castiel wanted nothing more, in that moment, than to soothe him. If that meant going back to the bunker, then thatās what he would do. But Jack wriggled again, one of his hands brushing against Castielās coat and brought him back to reality.Ā
Ā
Castiel sighed. āDean. I didnāt come here to argue with you.āĀ
Ā
Deanās brow crinkled in confusion. His hands tightened on Castielās arms. āWhat do you mean?āĀ
Ā
āIāve heard your prayers,ā Castiel said and watched a vulnerable comprehension race across Deanās face, āAnd Iām sorry Iāve worried you. I didnāt mean to distress you.āĀ
Ā
Comprehension faded behind a cold mask, Deanās eyes going dead, his jaw tightening. He let go of Castiel. He failed to not mourn the loss.Ā
Ā
āBut?ā Dean asked, tonelessly.Ā
Ā
āBut I can't come back, Dean. This child, he needs me. And itās safer, for all of you, if I stay gone.ā Castiel hesitated, then put his own hands on Deanās shoulders. āIām sorry, Dean. But our paths are diverging.āĀ
Ā
Dean said nothing, continuing to stare at Castiel with a blank hopelessness in his eyes. Castiel looked back at him and wondered what Deanās future would hold for him now in a world that no longer needed him to save it, where he could finally be at peace. He could grow old now, comfortably and slowly, full of the usual human complaints about sore backs and knees but without the anxiety of his aging body failing him on a hunt. The crowās feet beginning to line his eyes would deepen over time, as would the lines in his forehead. His skin would begin to sag and his stomach might even fill out into a comfortable paunch over the years, the jealousy of humans in ages past. Maybeāhopefully, Castiel told himself sternly, hopefullyāDean would find someone to share those years with. Another human to grow old beside. He might even have a child of his own one day.Ā
Ā
Castiel would see none of it but that was the price heād agreed to pay by making this separation. Dean had so many years ahead of him, now, free of worry and bloodshed. Free of the burdens Castiel had so often brought to his door. That Castiel wouldnāt be there to see it was a cheap price to pay.Ā
Ā
āYou will always be my family, all of you,ā he said. āPlease never think otherwise.āĀ
Ā
āJust tell me where you are, man,ā Dean whispered. His eyes dropped from Castielās. āPlease, just...āĀ
Ā
Castiel squeezed Deanās shoulders. āTell Sam and Mary I wish them well.āĀ
Ā
Dean said nothing, staring mutely at the dock. Castiel hesitated but he couldnāt leave Dean like this. Slowly, he lifted one hand to Deanās cheek, lightly brushing his thumb and fingertips against his skin. The touch startled Dean, enough that he looked back up and met Castielās gaze.Ā Ā
Ā
Castiel made himself smile. āGoodbye, Dean.āĀ
Ā
Dean didnāt say anything, staring at Castiel with a forlorn expression. He didnāt protest when Castiel lifted his hand to touch Deanās forehead and he went peacefully into another dream. Castiel shrouded himself and exited before he could see what it was.Ā
Ā
Back in their little house, Castiel settled into the rocking chair heād placed beside Jackās crib. It was a wrenching pain, leaving Dean behind. It felt like a chapter of his life, his long, endless life, had come to a close. He wouldnāt be who he was, wouldnāt be anyone, without Deanās influence. There had been points heād believed heād never have a life beyond Dean. Equally, there had been points when heād believed he could not possibly continue being a part of Deanās life, that theyād trespassed against each other too many times to continue. Never had he believed heād be the one to make the severing cut, that he would find a blade sharp enough to make it. Never had he believed that he would survive it.Ā
Ā
Jack wriggled again, that same flavor of discontentment Castiel had first sensed all those weeks ago at the Grand Canyon pouring off him in waves. It had been growing over the course of their dream walking, intensifying the longer Castiel had lingered until Jack was practically vibrating with it. Castiel gathered him close and bent and kissed his forehead, just like heād seen parents do with their children on TV. Jack sighed, his discontentment fading, and Castiel finally allowed himself to understand.Ā
Ā
āYou love me,ā Castiel whispered shakily into Jackās skin. It sounded like a question. Nevertheless, he could feel Jackās reply.Ā
Ā
He closed his eyes and pressed another kiss to Jackās head. āI love you, too.āĀ
Ā
_Ā
Ā
Dean stopped praying after that.
Chapter 2: THE GHOST PART 1
Notes:
āReal isn't how you are made,' said the Skin Horse. 'It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.'
'Does it hurt?' asked the Rabbit.
'Sometimes,' said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. 'When you are Real you don't mind being hurt.'
The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams
Chapter Text
The pavement of the 101 stretched before the Impala, asphalt shimmering in the hot sun. Dean had to admit, driving through California in the peak of summer was not one of his favorite activities. But Sam had found a case that looked an awful lot like chupacabras down near Red Bluff and he and Eileen had already been heading out the door to Minnesota for a black dog. And Mom was all the way in New England still tracking down that could-be Asmodeus sighting, so there hadnāt really been another option.Ā
Ā
Dean wouldnāt have wanted to hand it off to anyone else, anyway, not if that meant sitting in the bunker alone for weeks, waiting for someone to get back and pretending like watching TV or drinking beer by himself was how he actually wanted to be spending his time. Pretending was easier when there was someone else to do it for.Ā
Ā
But California always made Dean miserable. There was a reason he and Sam so rarely came back down this way.Ā
Ā
Luckily, the sights and sounds of southern California had long fallen behind him, replaced by soaring redwoods and misty hills in the distance. The highway had been taking him closer and closer to the ocean; he could see it now, glinting blue in the sunlight, that distinctive salty smell rolling in through the open windows. Traffic had slowed down the closer he got to town, slowing to a crawl whenever he neared a turn off for a beach. Maybe heād take 299 after he passed Eureka, get away from all the day-trippers and their minivans.Ā
Ā
Regardless of the route, it would be a long haul back to the bunker, one that his back and knees no longer agreed with. But there was no rush; Sam hadnāt called with a new hunt and none of them would be back yet. Dean had found the bunker lost a little of its charm when he had to be there alone; he wasnāt exactly in a hurry to get back to it.Ā
Ā
Maybe heād come across something on the way back. Or maybe heād take the scenic route; hell, he could even stop by the ocean while he was so close before heading back into middle America. All these people had to be on to something.Ā
Ā
Dean glanced at his fuel gauge and sighed. California prices were awful but he didnāt have much of a choice; heād need to fill up before he left the state. Now was as good a place as any.Ā
Ā
Dean took the next exit into town. He passed the first few gas stations, all of them absolutely packed with tourists. It was the weekend, he realized distantly, watching kids scamper around, teenagers bored in the back of their parentsā cars. No wonder it was so crazy.Ā
Ā
Dean gave up on finding someplace a little less busy and pulled into the next station he found. Like the others, it was also packed; but the line moved quicker than heād expected and it wasnāt long before he was leaning against the trunk, Baby drinking her fill.Ā
Ā
He watched the other drivers out of idle curiosity. The SUV across from him was absolutely crawling with kids, each shrieking something to each other and ignoring their beleaguered parents. The couple at the pump in front of him were too busy necking to notice the tank of their motorcycle was full while the couple in the sports car adjacent were clearly gearing up for an intense argument.Ā
Ā
It felt like the most human interaction Dean had had in days, outside phone calls with Sam and Mom and busting the sheriffās chops over their messy detective work. To these people, he was just another stranger, only acknowledged as long as he was in eyesight and sometimes not even then. There was an emptiness to it that rubbed him the wrong way. An emptiness that reminded him of how itād been all those years back, alone on the road with Dad off who knows where, and Sam in college beyond reach.Ā
Ā
The pump clunked, signalling Baby was full. Dean shrugged off his melancholy, rolling his shoulders and ignoring the way the sweat on his back had made his t-shirt cling uncomfortably to his skin. There was no point thinking like this; Sam and Mom joined him when they could, but they had their own shit going on. Mom was definitely more present than sheād been before the whole fiasco with the Brits, but she was still finding her footing after thirty years dead. Dean could sympathize; he was just glad she didnāt look at him like he was a stranger anymore.Ā
Ā
And Sam, Sam had a good thing going. Eileen was good for him, kept him grounded and out of his own head. Made him laugh. It had been a hell of a long time since Dean had seen Sam so happy. There was no way in hell he was gonna barge into the middle of that and spew his crap all over the place.Ā
Ā
Dean paused, letting himself lean against his arms on the roof of the car. He had no right, feeling like this. Things were good, for the first time in what felt like forever. They didnāt have much going on, other than the run of the mill monster shit and Crowleyās wild goose chase for Asmodeus. Things were good and his family was as safe as they could be. He couldnāt ask for more than that.Ā
Ā
He took a breath and pushed himself upright. If he was going to press on back east, he deserved some frigginā jerky for the road.Ā
Ā
The gas station was one of those places that had a little bell above the door, ringing cheerily any time it was opened. It was a pretty tiny place and most of the entrance was taken up by the people waiting in line. Dean edged around the last guy ā some massive bald dude cradling a very tiny slushie ā and poked his way around the aisles.
Ā
The jerky was near the back, crammed onto a shelf with the Slim Jims and the pepperoni sticks. He had to squeeze past the people crowding around the lotto kiosk, careful not to take a stand of some new flavor of chip with him as he went. He stood there for a few minutes debating flavors, letting some of the crowd dissipate. He couldnāt help but look every time the door jingled, years of having the importance of his surroundings drilled into his head making it second nature.Ā
Ā
Heād just about decided āteriyaki and sweet & spicy, he deserved twoāwhen the door opened again. He shot it a casual glance and froze.Ā
Ā
Heād seen Cas before, since heād gone AWOL over a year ago. Dean had seen him in the shoulders of a man walking past him on the street, in the eyes of a waitress six months back who had just the same shade of blue. But his brain had always caught up with him eventually, snapping him out of it before he said or did something embarrassing.Ā
Ā
It was never him, was the thing. Never Cas driving the car in the next lane or running for the bus or crossing the road. Cas was gone, long gone, disappeared somewhere Dean would never find him, no matter how hard he looked.Ā
Ā
Our paths are diverging.
Ā
And yet, somehow, beyond all reason and possibility, here Cas was, smiling politely at the old lady and her grandson exiting the store. He looked completely different āblue button down and frayed jeans replacing the holy tax accountant lookāand exactly the same. Sometimes Dean thought heād recognize that face anywhere, seared into his mind just as surely as Sam and Momās, regardless of how long it had been since Dean saw him last.Ā
Ā
The door shut behind Cas, tinkling gently. Dean took a breath, shuddering on its way into his lungs. Apparently, the sound was as deafening as it felt; Cas jerked to a halt, his shoulders stiffening. He turned toward Dean, eyes blown wide and lips parted in shock. The angle gave Dean a fantastic look at his chest, and the baby strapped there in a little sling.Ā
Ā
The kid. Holy shit, he still had the kid.Ā
Ā
Casā gaze jumped all over Dean and he wondered absently what Cas was seeing. Could he tell that Dean hadnāt showered in two days, that the crust of sweat from the hunt was still lingering on his skin? Could he somehow see that Dean had barely slept last night, tossing and turning for hours before falling into a hazy doze and pulling himself out of bed an hour after dawn? Cas had always seemed like he could tell before but maybe heād gotten out of practice in the last year.Ā
Ā
āCas,ā Dean managed to croak. The name barely made a sound as it passed his lips but Cas clearly heard it, rocking a step backwards. He swayed a bit on the spot, taking such a deep breath that the baby moved with it. And he disappeared, between one blink and the next, as if heād never been there at all.Ā
Ā
Dean cursed, probably too loudly judging by the glares of the people at the lotto kiosk. He stared around the store frantically but it was useless ā Cas hadnāt just ducked behind the Doritos without Dean noticing, he was fucking gone.Ā
Ā
Dean barged his way outside, the door jangling violently as he pushed through. He hurriedly checked every car, around the side of the station, looking up and down the sidewalk. Cas was nowhere in sight. No one seemed to have noticed him pulling his magical Houdini act, either, though they were sure giving Dean shifty looks now. But people saw what they wanted to see ā it didnāt necessarily mean anything that they chose to be freaked out by the maniac racing around the parking lot rather than the disappearing wonder.
Ā
Dean trudged back to the car, hurling himself into the front seat. What the hell had just happened in there? Maybe heād finally lost his grip on reality, imagining Cas in front of him when it was just some random guy creeped out by Deanās staring. Maybe there hadnāt been anyone there at all, just Dean almost having a heart attack over empty air. Wouldnāt have been the first time heād started seeing Cas all over the place and started acting like a lunatic.Ā
Ā
But back then, it had turned out to actually be Cas. And Dean hadnāt gotten so far in life by ignoring his instincts. Everything in him screamed that Cas had been there, not ten feet away, living and breathing and real .Ā
Ā
Dean sighed, putting his head in his hands. Even if it was Cas, looking for him may very well be pointless. If what Deanās eyes had told him was true, Cas could fly again somehow. This town could have just been a stop on his flight, one of a thousand. He could be all the way on the other side of the world by now.Ā
Ā
Despair rose up, choking Dean. Heād spent so much of the past year trying to convince himself that it didnāt matter that Cas was gone. He had Sam, he had Mom, Jody and the girls, Eileen. So Cas was gone ā screw him, let him stay gone. Heād made his decision clear the last time Dean had seen him. Cas wasnāt his concern anymore.Ā
Ā
And now all the work Dean had put into beating that all down, locking it far away never to be looked at again , was undone in a moment. He might as well be back where he started a year back, staring at the ashes and sand outside that house in North Cove, Casās absence a fresh, still bleeding wound.Ā
Ā
Well, screw Cas anyway. Clearly, he didnāt want Dean to find him. He wanted to see the look on Casā stupid face when he did.Ā
Ā
Mind made up, Dean pulled away from the pump ā to the clear relief of the people waiting angrily behind him ā and slotted Baby into one of the gas stationās very few parking spots.Ā
Ā
The attendant inside was clearly not pleased to see him again. Not surprising, after the little performance Dean had just put on. And if Dean was wrong on this, she was probably gonna pick up the phone her hand was hovering over and call the cops and Dean would have to get the hell out of Dodge, Cas or no Cas.Ā
Ā
Well, the only way forward was through. He approached the counter, pasting on his most winning smile.Ā
Ā
āHey,ā he said, āI donāt suppose you happen to know the guy who was just in here?āĀ
Ā
She stared at him, clearly unimpressed. āThere were a lot of guys just in here.āĀ
Ā
Dean just kept smiling. āHeās a bit hard to miss. White, about my height, dark hair, blue eyes. Had a kid with him?āĀ
Ā
The attendant just looked at him, silent. Okay, tough crowd; clearly, charm was not the way to go, here. Time for a different track.Ā
Ā
Dean let his smile go a little cracked around the edges, a little desperate. Not too overdone; just enough to be convincing, like he didnāt want it to show but couldnāt help it. It felt a little more genuine than he wanted it to.Ā Ā Ā
Ā
āListen,ā he said, pitching his voice a little quieter, leaning in over the counter, āIām looking for my brother, okay? And I didnāt see him for very long, but this guy looked a hell of a lot like him. I just wanna know if you know him.ā
Ā
The attendantās skepticism seemed to soften a little. āYour brother?āĀ
Ā
āYeah,ā Dean said. He looked down at the counter, fidgeting with his hands, selling the vulnerable, awkward look. āWe...fell out of touch and I havenāt seen him in a long time. But I just gotta talk to him, see if heās alright.āĀ
Ā
She seemed to waver, but she wasnāt quite there. Dean sighed internally and pulled out his phone.Ā
Ā
āI got a picture here,ā he said, āhe look familiar?āĀ
Ā
As soon as the attendant looked at the picture, Dean knew he had her. Made sense; Cas and Claire were a killer combo, no matter how you cut it. Dean had taken this photo the last time theyād all gone up to see Jody and the girls, just before Cas had disappeared back to Heaven. Claire had been eagerly showing off the station wagon that Jodyās friend had finally fully bequeathed to her, the rest of them tagging along and making the appropriate impressed noises. Claire had seemed to catch herself and tried to play it off as not as big a deal as she clearly thought it was. Cas had immediately told her he was proud of her, that it looked like a reliable automobile, and seemed to match her well. Claire had blushed and scoffed and dragged him off to the grocery store with her, nominally to get dinner but in reality to just get five flavours of ice cream.Ā
Ā
Dean had snapped the photo when they got back; the two of them were sitting side by side on the hood of the car, Claire with a spoonful of ice cream dangling from her mouth. Cas had put his arm awkwardly around her and Dean hadnāt missed the way Claire had leaned into him. The photo had caught the surprised joy creeping onto Casā face.Ā
Ā
They looked good. They looked like a family.Ā
Ā
The attendant looked at the photo for a long moment, her eyes going soft. She looked back up at Dean, a smile curving her lips. āYeah, I know Carl.āĀ
Ā
So, he was using a fake name. Smart. Dean grit his teeth, hoped it didnāt show through the relieved expression he contorted his face into. āAny idea where I could find him?āĀ
Ā
She shrugged. āHeās a regular here, but itās not a small town. I donāt remember seeing him anywhere else.ā
Ā
Shit. Just Deanās luck. He didnāt let his frustration show on his face, made his expression go grateful and a little watery. āKnowing heās here is enough. Thank you so much.āĀ
Ā
āDo you want to leave your number? I can pass it on to him the next time heās in.āĀ
Ā
āSure.ā It was pointless; Cas wouldnāt call him, even if he ever came back here. But there was no reason to make the attendant suspicious all over again. Dean scribbled down the number of his other, other phone, and left.Ā Ā
Ā
He walked back to the Impala slowly, slumping down into the driverās seat. What now? This place wasnāt LA or New York but it wasnāt the smallest town either; it wouldnāt be easy to find Cas, even if he hadnāt just split town as soon as he saw Dean.Ā
Ā
No, it didnāt help to think like that. Yes, Cas could be in frigginā Australia by now but the attendant had said he was a regular. Heād gone to the trouble of making a false name which he then gave out to gas station attendants, for Christās sake. That seemed like ground work, Cas deliberately laying a foundation in this town. It didnāt seem like he would abandon that lightly. Dean had to proceed under the assumption that Cas was still here, somewhere. And if he was here, Dean would find him.Ā
Ā
He just had to be smart about it; he couldnāt exactly go all over the place looking for Cas, not without pinging the suspicion of the locals. And Dean was loath to go to the cops with something like this. The quieter he kept this, the better.Ā
Ā
But Dean knew Cas. He remembered what Cas had looked like, in that brief instance in the gas station. His clothes were different, his mannerisms casual, comfortable. He was trying to lay low, pretending to be human. And Dean knew exactly who heād learned to be human from.Ā
_
Ā
Dean spent a good couple hours canvassing every ratty diner, fast-food joint, and little rinky-dink store he could find. Every time, he struck out, showing Casā photo to blank faces. Only once, at a department store back toward the edge of town did he get a cashier who recognized Cas.Ā
Ā
āOh yeah, he comes in all the time,ā the kid said, barely sparing Deanās phone a glance before turning back to his own, ābuying stuff for his kid, I think.āĀ
Ā
āAny idea where I could find him?āĀ
Ā
The kid shrugged. Dean weighed the benefits of pulling his FBI badge and demanding access to their records ādid they have a rewards program here? Would that mean they had Casā address?ā but gave it up as a bad job.Ā
Ā
He continued criss-crossing the town, inching along block by block. The determination he had felt back at the gas station was starting to slip away in the face of the growing heat and lack of leads. Cas had always been good at disappearing; Dean probably wouldnāt find him unless he wanted to be found.Ā
Ā
He was just pulling through the next intersection when he spotted it. He slammed on the brakes and pulled a hard right turn, ignoring the indignant honking that started up behind him.Ā
Ā
The diner was simply called Garyās. It looked more rundown than a place Dean would have expected so far inside the city limits; these kinds of joints usually turned up at trucker stops in the middle of nowhere, a place to stuff your face with halfway decent food during a ten hour drive. The building was long, low, and ramshackle. Some of the siding seemed to be hanging on by a thread and the eaves were rotted through. The parking lot was full of potholes that were probably doing a number of Babyās suspension. As Dean pulled into a space, he spotted a boardwalk sign out front, boasting the All Day Breakfast Special, available for $4.99.Ā
Ā
This was exactly the kind of dump that Cas had joined them at dozens of times, going all the way back to the original Apocalypse when all heād done was stare judgmentally at Deanās burger and make passive aggressive remarks about his cholesterol level, to Samās great joy. That attitude had changed over time, easing into an indulgent air that always had Cas repeating Deanās order so Dean could steal it off his plate, all while holding a mug of coffee that never went cold.Ā
Ā
If Cas was looking to establish a human identity in this town, this was exactly the type of place heād go.Ā
Ā
Dean sat in the car for a long second, fiddling with his keys. He could feel hope beating inside him again, the same hope that had been dashed at every other place heād gone to, only to be revived when he spotted the next one. He was getting pretty fucking tired of it.Ā
Ā
He sighed and pulled himself from the car, heading inside.Ā
Ā
Garyās looked about how heād expected it ā checked tile flooring, cracked vinyl on the booths, a jukebox at the back. If the place wasnāt so clearly old and run-down, Dean might have suspected them of trying to match some kind of all-American stereotype to pull in the tourists.Ā
Ā
Dean headed over to the counter, claiming a stool. He forced himself to act casually, look over the small listing of specials in the stand beside him rather than show the adrenaline coursing through him as it always did when he felt on the trail of a good lead.Ā
Ā
It wasnāt busy so it didnāt take long for the waitress to stop in front of him, placing her hands casually on the counter.Ā
Ā
āWhat can I get you?ā she asked with a practiced smile.Ā
Ā
Dean pasted on his most winning grin. Waitresses were tough customers; she didnāt even seem a little bit charmed, her own professional smile not budging an inch.Ā
Ā
āWas wondering if I could get a coffee to go. Extra large,ā Dean said.Ā
Ā
She nodded. āComing right up.āĀ
Ā
She returned quickly, hot coffee in a paper cup and a handful of sugar packets and creamers beside.Ā
Ā
āThat everything for you?ā she asked, placing the cup and condiments in front of him.Ā
Ā
āI donāt suppose you make pie?ā Dean asked, stirring some cream into his coffee. It looked like the thick tar places like this always somehow managed to produce; a little cream would help it go down and not give him heartburn in a half hour.Ā
Ā
āSure do. Todayās special is cherry.āĀ
Ā
Dean shot her another grin. āIāll grab a slice of that.ā Might as well spend a little bit of money, make it seem like this was a more casual question than it really was. Ease her into it, so to speak. And Dean deserved a treat, goddamn it.Ā
Ā
The waitress glanced at his coffee in its paper cup. āBoxed up?āĀ
Ā
āYeah, thanks.āĀ
Ā
Dean managed a few slugs of his coffee āit really was unspeakably bad; no amount of cream and sugar could possibly save it but Dean needed the caffeineā before she came back with the styrofoam box.Ā
Ā
āAnything else?ā she asked.Ā
Ā
And now, to the point of his stop here. āActually, I donāt suppose you can give me directions?āĀ
Ā
She nodded agreeably, half her attention focused on the bill she was writing for him on her little notepad. āSure thing. Where you heading?āĀ
Ā
Dean dug his phone out of his pocket again, finding that picture with Claire and angling it toward her. āIām visiting my brother, Carl, but I got all turned around. Donāt suppose you know him?āĀ
Ā
Shockingly, the waitressā face immediately creased with a warm smile.Ā
Ā
āOf course, I know Carl,ā she said. āHeās such a sweet young man and that baby is frankly adorable.ā She looked up from the photo to shoot him a confused look. āBut he hasnāt mentioned a brother before.āĀ
Ā
Dean smiled again, strained. āWeāve fallen out of touch a little. Iāve wanted to come and see him, butā¦ā he shrugged, as if at a loss for words. āBut now Momās sick and I-Iād just really appreciate it if you could point me in the right direction.āĀ
Ā
And she fell for it, as Dean figured she would. A sick family member was always a good line, made people fold quicker than a wet paper towel, even waitresses who heard the worst of humanity day in and out.Ā
Ā
āOh, of course, honey, Iām so sorry,ā she said, patting his hand before gesturing out the window behind Dean. āYou just want to head due east on Harris and take a right on N street. He should be right around there.āĀ
Ā
Dean smiled at her. He didnāt have to fake the relief in it. āYouāre a lifesaver, thanks so much.āĀ
Ā
She smiled back. āOf course. You tell him hi for us.āĀ
Ā
āI sure will.ā Right after Dean hugged him or threw him through a wall. He hadnāt decided which yet.Ā
Ā
A settled bill, a fifteen minute drive and one more stop asking for directions and Dean found himself stopped on a suburban street, looking at the row of houses stretching before him, heart pounding. The house the neighbours had identified as āCarlāsā was a few places up, a little one with a pointed roof with some kind of attic space, judging by the window up there. The front yard was overgrown with plants, the grass itself a little overlong compared to the lawns around it. A massive tree just beside the sidewalk blocked a direct view of the house from the street. Dean wondered if the plant life and the way it partially blocked the house was deliberate or if Cas just sucked at yard work.Ā
Ā
Luckily, Dean had managed to avoid driving straight by it in his search so he hadnāt completely blown whatever element of surprise he still had. He leaned over to the glovebox, hesitating before tucking a gun into his jeans. He hesitated again, eyes lingering on the angel blade nestled next to the Biggersonās napkins jammed in there. He finally made himself grab it, stuffing it into his pocket before he could overthink it.Ā
Ā
Dean quietly exited the car, shutting the door softly so it didnāt make a sound. It was the middle of the day and the street was crawling with people; he couldnāt afford to look too suspicious here. Dean didnāt want to get the cops called on him because he was packing heat a little too obviously.Ā
Ā
But whatever luck had gotten Dean this far seemed to fail him now. No sooner had he hit the edge of the property line did the door to the house swing open. Cas stood in the doorway, expression set with some unidentifiable feeling, staring right at him.Ā
Ā
He was wearing the same clothes he had been at the gas station ā a button down in dark blue, jeans going a little thready at the knees but stretched tight around his thighs. The difference from the baggy suit and coat was enough to throw Dean for a loop. Cas looked like some midwest dad getting featured in Menās Health Magazine. He looked uncomfortably like he had when he was an amnesiac healer named Emmanuel, staring at Dean without incomprehension while Dean just tried to breathe around the feeling of his heart breaking all over again.Ā
Ā
But his face ā Dean knew, logically, Cas didnāt age as humans did. The years would never show in his face as new lines or wrinkles or the increase of grey hairs at his temples. Dean had thought, sometimes, that heād spotted a few new lines around his eyes after Casā short stint as a full-blown human, but he could never be sure.Ā
Ā
But a year had passed, one in which Dean had never laid eyes on Cas outside of odd dreams at night and half-hearted wishing. A part of Dean āthe part that had couldnāt accept never seeing Cas againā had thought Casā face would look different, that heād be able to see the time theyād spent apart there, written in Casā features. But there was no change; they might as well both be standing in that stupid playground again. As if all the months of worry, frustration, and half-frozen grief had never happened at all.Ā
Ā
Dean knew he was staring, frozen on the grass unable to take even one more step. Cas didnāt seem to mind, though, staring straight back with that same intensity that always threatened to drive Dean to the ground. Dean used to hate that shit, all too conscious of the people around them and what they would see and infer. He wondered when heād started to crave it.Ā
Ā
Dean managed to open his mouth, but the words werenāt there. Cas just kept looking at him for another long moment, long enough Dean wondered if he might just disappear again.Ā
Ā
āYou might as well come in,ā he said finally, voice rough and low, just loud enough that Dean could hear him across the yard. Another thing that hadnāt changed. Cas retreated through the doorway, leaving it empty, but open. Expectant.Ā
Ā
Dean swallowed and forced himself to cross the yard. His heart was pounding as he crept up the front steps, itching for a weapon in his hand. But there was no need for it here, not until he had a better idea what was going on.Ā
Ā
He crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him carefully. A hallway stretched before him, a stairway to the right leading up. There was a doorway on the left that seemed to lead to a living area. The hallway, he guessed, went to the kitchen, while he could just see the edge of a crib through the door on the right.Ā
Ā
It all looked exceedingly normal, like a show home but with crappier furniture.Ā Ā
Ā
Cas was standing at the end of the hallway, the light from the kitchen behind him illuminating his shoulders and casting his face into dramatic half-shadows. His hands hung limply at his sides, his shoulders sagged ever so slightly. He looked weary, but maybe that was just the light, picking out the fine lines in his face.Ā
Ā
āYou shouldnāt have come,ā Cas said.Ā
Ā
Dean wasnāt sure what heād expected Cas to say, but certainly hadnāt been that. Any moment Dean was having was effectively shattered, his nerves melting into a bolt of anger.Ā
Ā
āWell, hello to you too, Cas,ā he said, feeling his face twist in a scowl, his shoulders stiffen. He hated this, how quickly he got his back up, but he could never seem to help it. āOr is it Carl, now?āĀ
Ā
Cas looked away, his gaze dropping to the floor. āI thought it best to use a pseudonym.ā
Ā
āRight,ā Dean said, nodding slowly. āStay under the radar.ā It made sense, although Dean hated to admit it. He hated to admit that anything about Cas disappearing without a word and with no effort to contact him again made sense.Ā
Ā
āIt seemed best,ā Cas repeated.
Ā
Silence fell between them for a long moment, the only sound the ambient noises of suburbia ā someone mowing their yard, neighbours talking a few doors down in their driveway, some kids playing around in a sprinkler. It felt bizarre, as suburbia always did to Dean, so removed from Deanās everyday life. It felt equally bizarre for Cas to be here, like a puzzle piece trying to fit into a completely different puzzle.Ā
Ā
Cas finally broke the silence. āHow did you find me?ā
Ā
Dean snorted. āWould you believe right place, right time? I was just passing through, needed some gas, and ā ā he stopped with a wide shrug.Ā
Ā
Cas nodded, slowly. His eyes tracked up and down Dean before finally lingering on his face, meeting Deanās own gaze. Dean couldnāt help his nervous swallow. He could feel fresh sweat beading up under his shirt.Ā
Ā
āAnd now what?ā Cas asked, ānow that youāve found me?ā
Ā
Before Dean could respond, a baby started crying from the living room. Cas vanished, reappearing in the living room between one blink and the next, so fast it took Dean a minute to process what had happened. Cas crouched by a playpen on the floor that Dean hadnāt noticed before, too fixated on Cas. There was a baby inside, the same baby from the gas station, wearing a little green onesie covered in dinosaurs. Cas was offering him a block, maybe to join the pile of blocks already in the playpen.Ā
Ā
Dean had seen Cas around children before. Hell, heād seen Cas wearing a child, although neither he nor Claire liked to talk about it. But the truth was, Cas clearly loved kids. Dean couldnāt count the times heād caught Cas returning the intent stare of the baby in the car next to them at the gas station. He remembered that time theyād been walking by a park and Cas had detoured to help some kids get their ball down from a tree. Hell, even way back during the first Apocalypse, Cas had loved kids; he still remembered Cas wandering off in that Wal-Mart, only for Dean to find him in the toy aisle, patiently fetching Barbies from the top shelf for the little boy standing next to him, all the while explaining that gendered toys were a ridiculous concept and it was perfectly alright for him to want to play with dolls rather than trucks. Dean had pulled Cas away when heād started to talk about how gender itself was a social construct.Ā
Ā
āDude, heās six,ā heād said, āand we gotta find his parents.āĀ
Ā
Cas had squinted at him. āHis parents are two aisles over looking at camping gear. One can never be too young to explore their gender identity.ā Heād tilted his head to the side, appraising Dean in a way he didnāt like. āOr too old.āĀ
Ā
Rather than kick that can of worms, Dean had taken one of the Barbies from its packaging and tucked it in the kidās jacket and sent him back on to his parents. The boy had given Cas a hug goodbye which clearly both confused and pleased Cas, who only moved to rest his palm on the boyās head for a moment before letting him go.Ā
Ā
Dean had treasured that at the time; it had shown a different side of Cas from the stone-cold warrior who had a terrible track record with kids, considering the possession and the attempted murder. That part of Cas had grown over the years; he only had to look at how gooey Cas got any time Claire was mentioned to know that.Ā
Ā
So really, it shouldnāt be such a surprise to see Cas now, crouching next to this latest Hell-spawn with a soppy look on his face.Ā
Ā
āThat him?ā Dean asked. It didnāt seem possible. The kid looked too normal, like any other pudgy baby Dean had ever seen. A little teary eyed from the recent spate of tears, a little drooly, wispy blonde hair plastered on his head. Just a normal, whiny kid.Ā
Ā
But appearances could be deceiving. Dean knew that better than anyone. Hell, this wasnāt even the first monster baby heād run into; he still remembered that shifter baby all those years back. And that kid was cute, innocent. He wasnāt the spawn of literal Satan.Ā
Ā
āYes,ā Cas said, pressing the block gently into the kidās hands, āheās going through a throwing phase.āĀ
Ā
Sure enough, the kid no sooner took the block than he was winding his arm back and hurling it across the room. Cas sighed deeply, retrieving the block. Dean would have laughed but it just seemed too insane. He must have walked through a portal into another world coming through the front door, or maybe Gabriel was still out there, chucking him into some fucked-up TV land. No way this was reality.Ā
Ā
āCas, we gotta talk,ā he said, eyeing the baby as Cas passed the block back again.Ā
Ā
āAbout what?ā Cas asked. The kid started to wind back for another throw. Cas placed a hand over the block and fixed the kid with a significant look until he lowered the block with a sad, little sigh.Ā
Ā
Dean stared at Cas. āWhat do you mean, about what? About that thing!āĀ
Ā
He felt oddly ashamed, saying that while the kid was sitting right there, looking all cute and innocent with his blocks. But it had to be said. This Cas, in his dad clothes and his sensible house, this wasnāt Cas. And that kid wasnāt some normal kid.Ā
Ā
Cas glared at him, so hard Dean almost took a step back.Ā
Ā
āHeās not a thing,ā Cas growled, āheās a child. My child.āĀ
Ā
Dean felt his stomach drop, the breath crush out of his lungs. āWait, slow down ā āĀ
Ā
Cas stood up and started to walk toward him, getting that smite-y look around the eyes. Dean glanced behind him; the baby wasnāt even paying attention, fixed entirely on his blocks.Ā
Ā
āIf youāve come here to hurt him ā ā
Ā
āCas, just listen to me, okay?ā Dean said, hating the desperate tone in his voice. He held his hands up in surrender. āI get heās a kid alright, I can see that. But that kid ā ā He pointed back at the playpen; the baby had apparently gotten tired of blocks and was now trying to put an entire stuffed rhino in his mouth. ā ā freaking mind whammied you into next week. Hell, look around you, this aināt you!ā
Ā
Cas looked at him quietly. It was a sad look, one that Dean didnāt like. āIt is now.ā
Ā
āCas, heās controlling you ā ā Dean started again; he had to get through to Cas, he just had to. He couldnāt have come this far just to fail at the finish line.Ā
Ā
āHe is not controlling me,ā Cas cut him off, with a shake of his head. His face was still sad. āTrust me, I know what that feels like.ā
Ā
Dean glanced at the baby again, still contently chewing on the rhino. He didnāt seem to have a care in the world, didnāt even seem to be acknowledging the two of them. He hadnāt even really looked at Dean so far, wholly absorbed in his toys. Which either meant that he was powerful enough to control Cas without even looking like he was doing it or ā
Ā
The bottom of Deanās stomach dropped out. It was what he had feared, for so long, and refused to acknowledge. That Cas had left him, abandoned him, for some other cause, a repeat in a pattern long established. He was always doing this, searching constantly for something of value, latching onto whatever he found. Too much heart , Alfie had said. And that heart always seemed to lead him away from Dean.Ā
Ā
When I looked at him, I did not recognize the guy staring back at me, he had told Sam after Cas had flown the coop. Heād been so sure, so sure that Cas would never have left willingly, that something had been done to him. And really, what did he have to base that certainty on? A long history of Cas walking away? Cas never stayed, Dean knew that, he never stayed.Ā
Ā
What was more likely? That the baby, a literal fucking infant, was rotten to the core and pulling Casā strings, all while doing his best to choke himself on a stuffed toy, or that Cas had decided to take the chance to finally move on and cut the bond tying them together?Ā
Ā
Our paths are diverging.
Ā
God, heād been so fucking stupid.Ā
Ā
āThen what happened man? Whyād you go pro-antichrist?ā Dean managed to ask. He hung his head, rubbed his hand down his face. He felt so gutted, he wasnāt sure how he was still standing.Ā
Ā
āDean?ā He looked back up; Cas was watching him closely, his brow crinkled in concern.Ā
Ā
āCāmon, man, tell me,ā Dean said. He chuckled bitterly. āYou owe me that much.āĀ
Ā
Concern faded into guilt, guilt that Dean tried not to feel satisfaction in.Ā
Ā
āIā¦ā Cas sighed. āI meant to kill Kelly, and Jack, when I took the Colt.āĀ
Ā
Dean shot him a look. āYou really think you couldāve done that?āĀ
Ā
Cas dropped his gaze. āI thought I had to. But I couldnāt go through with it. Then Kelly offered to go to Heavenās gate with me and I thought that would solve the problem.ā He glanced behind him at the kid, something apologetic in his face. āI realize now I was already starting to wonder if there was a problem to be solved.āĀ
Ā
And that sounded like Cas. Cas the doubter, the questioner, always bringing up those inconvenient truths you didnāt really want to think about. He saw the good in shitty people everyday. Dean shouldnāt be surprised he saw it in the kid, too.Ā
Ā
āBut when I held Kellyās hand,ā Cas continued, āhe showed me the future. Peace on earth.ā
Ā
Dean frowned. āWhat, like the peace the angels wanted to bring? Cas, you know shit like that aināt real.ā
Ā
Cas shook his head. āNo, Dean, not some manufactured, flawed peace. Real peace, from angels, from demons, from all of it. A world where humans can just...be.ā
Ā
Dean looked at the kid. Heād moved on from the rhino and returned to the blocks; he was laying them all out in one long line, his tiny face extremely focused.Ā
Ā
āYou really think he could do that?āĀ
Ā
Cas sighed, shooting the kid a look dripping in fondness. āI donāt know. He is just a child; he could have just been showing me what I wanted to see.ā He looked back at Dean, his expression soft. āHe wanted to live, Dean. Is that so hard to understand?ā
Ā
āWe weren't going to kill him.ā It had been practically unimaginable at the time, seeing a pregnant Kelly and thinking about putting a bullet in her head. Now, looking at the baby and his little blocks, it was impossible to picture, so painful Dean couldnāt bear to look at it.Ā
Ā
Cas seemed to soften. āI know that. But you wanted to remove his grace. Itās a traumatic experience for an angel. I canāt imagine how terrible it would be for a nephilim to go through.ā
Ā
Dean hesitated. āItād be that bad?ā
Ā
āWould you let someone take your soul out, even if they said it was for the best?ā
Ā
Dean sighed. Yeah, he could see that wouldnāt be the best plan. But āDean looked at the kid again, this tiny boy with apparently unimaginable power. How could it ever be the right call to have a kid with a nuke strapped to his chest running around? Kidās were stupid and got upset about the smallest things. Mom had just told him that story about how heād burst into tears because his shirt was red when he was three; apparently, heād been inconsolable the entire night. At least most kids could only kick or scream; this one might be able to level a whole block if he lost his binky.Ā
Ā
āSo, whatās your plan then? You just gonna stay here and play house?ā Dean asked.
Ā
āThat was my intention.ā Cas walked back to Jackās playpen, crouching down next to it. The kid grinned at him, wiggling his rhino up at him. āIt took us a while to settle in here. But Jack likes it.ā
Ā
āThatās his name?ā
Ā
Cas looked up at him. His eyes had gone warm, welcoming. His mouth was curving up on one side with a soft smile. It was a look Dean didnāt really recognize. He wondered if heād ever seen it before. He wondered if this was the type of look that only children brought out in Cas.Ā
Ā
āIt is.ā Cas reached down into the playpen, picking Jack up and positioning with an ease that spoke to how many times heād done it. He approached Dean, still frozen in the entrance to the living room. He stopped well within Deanās personal space, close enough his arms would brush against Deanās chest, if either of them only took a step forward.Ā
Ā
āJack, this is Dean, a friend of mine.ā Jack gave a small squeal, sticking his thumb in his mouth. It was the first time heād truly looked at Dean, staring at him intensely from Casā arms. Dean had an uncomfortable sense that the kid was seeing a hell of a lot more than Dean wanted him to.Ā
Ā
āDean, this is Jack.ā Cas finished, looking at Dean expectantly. Dean glanced at him quickly before looking back at the kid.Ā
Ā
āUh,ā Dean said. He wasnāt sure exactly how to respond to such a serious introduction to someone who wasnāt even old enough to speak yet. Neither Cas nor Jack seemed to mind Deanās stuttering; they both just kept staring expectantly.Ā
Ā
Finally, Dean just said, āhey, kid.ā
Ā
Jack titled his head to the side in an eerie mirror of the gesture Cas had made so many times. The kidās eyes, though a different color, seemed just as piercing. Dean swallowed and looked away.Ā Ā
Ā
Cas finally broke the silence. āWe were just about to have lunch. Do you want to join us?ā He asked the question slowly, as if he was sounding out the words as he went along. Jack continued to lay quietly in Casā arms, seemingly content to stare at Dean without blinking.Ā
Ā
My child , Cas had said. This was Casā child. This was Casā home, in which he lived with his child. Dean didnāt know a way to make anything in that sentence make sense.Ā
Ā
What the hell was he still doing here? Heād wanted to find Cas and heād found him. Heād wanted to know what was going on and he knew now. He should split town, get the hell out of here and back on the road. He could head back up the coast or make a run out east, until he found a dive bar scummy enough he could get lost in it for the night. Hell, maybe two. Stay lost until Sam called him back to reality.Ā
Ā
But Dean was still living on another planet, apparently, because he found his head nodding, his mouth quietly agreeing. Sure thing, Cas, itād be great to have lunch with you and your not-so-evil demon baby. Why the fuck not.Ā Ā
Ā
The uncertain look on Casā face eased somewhat, though Dean could still see the worry lingering around his eyes. Jack in his arms, he led the way toward the room Dean had guessed was the kitchen. Dean hesitated then followed a few steps behind, which thankfully meant he didnāt run into Cas completely when he stopped dead in the door.Ā
Ā
Dean tensed, his hand itching to grab his gun. But when Cas turned he didnāt look worried or angry or just fucking blank like he did when something was digging around in his head. Deanās gaze flicked back down to the kid, who was blithely chewing on the rhinoās foot without a care in the world, before looking back at Cas.Ā
Ā
If anything, he looked a little abashed.Ā
Ā
āWe only have baby food,ā Cas explained, āwe donāt entertain very often.āĀ
Ā
Dean felt bizarrely reassured; at least Cas hadnāt turned into some suburban dad who barbecued for the neighbours every weekend. Small blessings.Ā
Ā
He said, āCāmon, I know a place.ā
Ā
_Ā
Ā
The trip back to Garyās was surreal. Cas tried to insist they walk, as he didnāt have a car , apparently not having seen a need to keep one . Dean refused; the last thing he wanted was to make a spectacle of himself walking around town with Cas and the baby. His own Baby was already eye-catching enough. Then they got into a ridiculous argument about the Impalaās safety ratings and how itās really not a vehicle to transport children in, especially with the lack of carseat. Dean argued that he and Sam travelled in it and they turned out fine, while telling the part of himself that remembered the car accident that nearly killed him to shut it.Ā
Ā
Cas stared at him dubiously, clearly not convinced. Dean rolled his eyes.
Ā
Ā āCas. Heāll be fine,ā Dean said, āIām pretty sure if we get into an accident, the only one you wonāt have to worry about is Jack. Isnāt he stronger than god or something?ā
Ā
Cas rolled his own eyes, in that infuriating way he had as if he was asking the heavens for the patience necessary to deal with Dealās unending bullshit. Dean wanted to crush the fondness that sprung up in his chest at the sight. āHeās a very powerful infant, Dean, but he can still be hurt.ā
Ā
āThen I will drive very, very carefully. Itās only a fifteen minute drive. I promise, nothing is gonna happen,ā Dean said with exaggerated self-restraint.Ā
Ā
Cas narrowed his eyes at him for a long moment before nodding severely.Ā
Ā
āDo you want to go for a car ride?ā he asked Jack, very seriously.Ā
Ā
Jack squealed and clapped his hands in obvious delight.Ā
Ā
āSee?ā Dean said. Cas sighed.Ā
Ā
In the end, Cas still tried to insist on cramming the car seat he had kicking around for some reason into the car. Dean patiently explained that it was a modern seat and not designed to fit in a classic car; he almost thought Cas was going to call the whole thing off right there but he only sighed and agreed that if he sat in the back and held Jack on his lap, it would probably be safe enough.Ā
Ā
The drive to the restaurant was mildly excruciating. Dean was forced to crawl through traffic, limited by Casā constant reminder to stick to the speed limit and obey all traffic signs. Dean was a good driver, heād been driving since he could see over the steering wheel; he didnāt need an angel in the backseat telling him how to do it. It was enough to drive him insane and wonder why the hell he was doing this, sneaking glances at Casā pinched face in the back seat. His eyes dropped to Jack momentarily, cradled safely in Casā arms, leaning his head against Casā chest.Ā
Ā
Well, maybe Dean did get it. If that was Deanās kid, heād probably be just as much of a basketcase.Ā
Ā
The sign to Gary's was a welcome return to normality. Dean eased into a parking space and felt the tension in the car finally dissipate.Ā
Ā
āWho knew youād be the worst of all soccer moms?ā Dean said, getting out of the car.
Ā
Cas apparently didnāt find Deanās comment worthy of a comeback but Dean could practically feel him rolling his eyes.Ā
Ā
Abruptly, Deanās throat felt tight and he had to blink a few times to keep his eyes clear. Godammit, but heād missed this; sniping at each other, pushing each otherās buttons. The knock-down fighting he could do without but there was nothing so peaceful as good natured bickering. Maybe Dean was just maladapted or maybe it was just a by-product of growing up with your annoying kid brother as your only friend, but there was something about bickering that just felt like home. And Cas had always been a pro at it, even before heād understood what they were bickering about.Ā
Ā
Dean remembered the first road trip theyād ever taken, that long haul between Pennsylvania and Maine going to hunt down Raphael. Cas had alternated between complaining about how slow driving was and stone cold silence while Dean sung along obnoxiously to the music. It had been the happiest Dean had been in weeks.Ā
Ā
And now Dean was playing chauffeur after Cas had been MIA for a year playing happy families with Lucifer Jr.Ā
Ā
āDean?āĀ
Ā
He turned to see Cas staring at him across the roof of the car. He looked confused, but there was something a little knowing there too, as if heād guessed what Dean was thinking. Dean dropped his eyes from his face and his gaze landed on the kid, still held securely in Casā arms.Ā
Ā
āCāmon,ā Dean grunted out and led the way inside.Ā
Ā
Garyās looked just as dilapidated as it had an hour ago. Dean elected to lead their unfortunate trio to the booth nestled at the back near the hallway to the bathrooms. Dean grabbed a seat and watched while Cas wrangled over one of the high chairs with practiced ease. Heād done this before. Clearly, he had, if he was enough of a regular for the waitress to recognize him and know him by name. Dean swallowed and looked away.Ā
Ā
The waitress whoād given him the directions to Casā place came over just as Cas was settling the kid in the chair.Ā
Ā
āOh, you found each other!ā she said, grinning at them.Ā
Ā
Dean smiled at her. āYes, maāam. Those directions were the ticket.āĀ
Ā
āIām so glad,ā she said, āI kept bugging Carl about getting his family out this way, itās so good to see you coming down.ā And that was a little more judgmental than Dean would have liked, but it made sense. Townsfolk would be a little put-out, seeing a single dad with an infant, whose family was apparently too good to visit.
Ā
The waitress went on before Dean could respond. āBut I understand; family illnesses are always so hard.āĀ
Ā
She paused, her face full of sympathy. Dean wasnāt sure exactly what he was supposed to say, so he just kept smiling. āThat they are.āĀ
Ā
She smiled back, her sympathy folding back into her professional mask. āHereās your menus; you just let me know when youāre ready to order.āĀ
Ā
Cas thanked her, watching as she walked away. Then he leaned over the table suddenly, his expression urgent. āFamily illness?ā he asked.Ā
Ā
Dean shrugged, not sure what to do with Casā sudden focus. He turned his attention toward his menu; it was all of two pages long and had the same dishes listed as almost every other diner heād stopped at over the years. āYeah, figured it was as good an excuse as any.āĀ
Ā
Cas leaned in a little further. āSo, itās not true, then. Mary and Sam are alright?āĀ
Ā
Dean glanced up at him, a little surprised. āYeah, theyāre fine.ā And when he saw Cas slump in relief, couldnāt resist adding, āprobably be better if you hadnāt gone AWOL with Damien, here.āĀ
Ā
The kid piped up with a little whine, as if he knew he was being talked about.Ā
Ā
Cas sighed. āIt wasnāt my intention to make you worry.ā
Ā
Dean suddenly felt pissed all over again, the anger that had drained out of him back at the house flooding back in. āWasnāt your intention? Donāt give me that. We looked everywhere for you. I was ready to tear the whole frigging country apart. What the hell did you think was going to happen?ā
Ā
Cas sighed and looked out the window, silent.Ā
Ā
Heād just told Cas, was the thing, right before Cas lifted the Colt. Dean had sat at his desk and heād peeled back a part of his flesh, just a little, to let those words out. With everything thatās going on, you canāt just go dark like that. We didnāt know what happened to you. We were worried. Thatās not okay. And then Cas had turned around and done it again, had been planning to do it the entire time, even while listening and agreeing with Dean.Ā
Ā
What did you think I was gonna do? Dean wanted to ask. And more damningly, if only because of how pathetic he would sound asking it, did you even care? Ā
Ā
Heād had excuses before, on Casā behalf. Cas was desperate for a win, Dean knew that. Hell, heād been there himself, so desperate heād been willing to throw his hat in with anything, even the Mark. And Cas had gone from so desperate he couldnāt see straight to mind-controlled, taken away by something so powerful it could puppet Cas before it was even born.Ā
Ā
That same all powerful entity was now slapping his hands on the high chair table, making small whining noises in his throat until Cas finally caved and pulled him out of the chair and into his lap.Ā
Ā
Dean watched them, Cas brushing his fingers through the kidās hair, the kid starting to calm down at his touch. He looked innocent, not at all like the monster deanās imagination had made him out to be. This kid didnāt look capable of anything other than screaming, eating, and shitting himself. He certainly didnāt seem capable of controlling someone against their own will.Ā
Ā
And Cas had said that he hadnāt. That Cas had chosen to go, to protect the kid and Kelly. Had chosen to leave. Again. Which shouldnāt hurt the way it did, drive the breath from Deanās lungs the way it did, because when had Cas ever chosen to stay? Not to fight something, not to avert the apocalypse or save the world, but just to stay, just because.Ā
Ā
God, he really needed the waitress to come back soon. He couldnāt handle this overwrought thinking without a burger to stuff in his face.Ā
Ā
But Deanās wish was not to be granted and their table lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. The kid settled down, his agitated whining settling into quieter noises the longer Cas held him. Casā hands were gentle, his touches clearly meant to soothe. It looked weird on him. Dean knew that Cas could be gentle, of course. Heād seen it, heād felt it; the careful way Cas always hugged him, as if worried heād break Dean; the soft, barely-there touch of his fingers whenever he healed Dean. But it seemed so alien on him, watching Cas now. Like seeing two different images try to fill the same space.Ā
Ā
āIs that better?ā Cas asked quietly. The kid gurgled and grinned.Ā
Ā
āGood,ā Cas said, as if that had actually been a response, and placed Jack back in the high chair.Ā
Ā
Thankfully, the waitress finally returned before Dean had much time to think about that exchange. Heād never felt so relieved to order a burger before.Ā
Ā
āUsual for you, Carl?ā the waitress asked Cas.Ā
Ā
āYes, thank you Tabitha,ā he said.Ā
Ā
She grinned at him, her smile shifting from professional to genuinely friendly. āSure thing.āĀ
Ā
Dreadfully, the table lapsed back into silence, only broken by Jackās soft murmurs to himself. Cas placed a paper placemat in front of him, seemingly on auto-pilot, reaching over to the small plastic cup full of crayons next to the salt and pepper shakers. As soon as the crayon was in his hand, Jack was clearly in heaven, scribbling thick lines across the page in nonsensical patterns.Ā
Ā
āWhatās that supposed to be?ā Dean asked, groping for anything to alleviate the oppressive silence.Ā
Ā
Cas hummed, resettling his grip around his coffee mug. His shoulders loosened a little; it made Dean feel obscurely better, knowing that Cas had been suffering during the silence too.Ā
Ā
āI donāt think itās supposed to be anything,ā Cas said, āsometimes he likes to draw things heās seen that day, but most of the time Jack is more of an abstract artist.āĀ
Ā
Dean nodded seriously, as if it made total sense for a kid scribbling with crayon to be called an artist. āRight.āĀ
Ā
Jack glanced up at him suddenly, catching Deanās eyes. Dean froze, staring back at him. A long moment passed, in which Jack continued to stare, and Dean wondered if it was rude to be creeped out by a baby. Finally Jack looked away, transferring his avid concentration to his crayon options. He finally selected one, a light green, and carefully started drawing thick lines, crayon held tightly in his tiny fist.
Ā
Dean looked away from him, meeting Casā eyes. Cas, of course, was looking straight back at him; there was no way he hadnāt caught that whole exchange but he mercifully didnāt say anything about it.Ā
Ā
Dean took a long sip of his coffee, desperately searching for something to say.Ā Ā
Ā
āSo you can fly again, huh? Howād that happen?ā he settled on.Ā
Ā
He watched Casā face crease into a smile, that small gentle one that he only made when he was really pleased. āJack. I didnāt think it was possible, but he healed my grace.ā
Ā
āReally? Thatās awesome.ā And Dean really did try to sound pleased, because he was. It didnāt take a genius to see how much losing his wings had hurt Cas. Even though heād come around to driving, Dean could never forget how interminable heād found it, how miserable Cas had been back in the day when heād been falling the first time, let alone when he was human. He knew Cas had still been upset by the loss, all these years later.Ā
Ā
And heād been sympathetic, of course he had. But there had been a part of him that had been on tenterhooks when Cas got his grace back from Metatron that had relaxed when Cas confirmed he still couldnāt fly. It was a shameful, ugly part of Dean, he knew that, but it was there now, tensing up as if Cas was going to disappear in front of his eyes any second.Ā
Ā
If Cas left now, Dean was uncomfortably aware that heād never manage to find him again. It had been sheer luck this time around and lightning never struck the same place twice. If Cas could fly now, he could go completely off the grid; forget staying in the States, he probably wouldnāt stay on the same continent. Hell, he and Jack would probably be just as comfortable living it up in Antarctica as they were in California.Ā
Ā
āHow are the others? Sam and Mary?ā Cas asked. Dean fell onto the topic like a man starving, finally having something to talk about where the words flowed easily and the emotions made sense. When he mentioned that Sam was hanging out with Eileen nowadays, Cas smiled.Ā
Ā
āThatās good. Sam spoke very highly of her,ā he said.Ā
Ā
Right, Cas had never met Eileen; theyād always seemed to pass each other like ships in the night rather than meet face to face. Shame; Dean knew theyād like each other.Ā
Ā
Dean went on, expanding on what Mom was up to these days, how the situation with the Brits had shaken out. Cas seemed genuinely interested, watching Dean closely and nodding along. Dean thought about mentioning the hunt Mom was on right now, but figured in the end that there was no reason to bring it up. Cas was as out of the game as he could get with a kid like his; no reason to trouble him with talk of the newest pretender to Hellās throne.
Ā
The waitress returned, bearing plates of food. Dean picked up his burger as soon as it was put down, watching as she placed a cinnamon bun and a small salad in front of Cas and an empty bowl in front of Jack.Ā
Ā
āThanks, Tabitha,ā Cas said.Ā
Ā
āEnjoy. Let me know if you need anything else.āĀ
Ā
āWhat, you eat now?ā Dean asked once sheād left, eyeing the food in front of Cas.
Ā
Cas shook his head, something rueful in his face. āI still donāt need to. But Iāve found that humans become suspicious if you donāt eat. The molecules of these meals are less offensive than most.āĀ
Ā
āYou tried this one?ā Dean asked, holding up his burger to take another bite. āItās pretty good.ā Not the best heād ever had ā that went to the ones he made lovingly in his own kitchen. Close second was that tiny shack outside New Vienna, Ohio, which heād had for the first time at 23 after a grueling ghoul hunt.Ā
Ā
Cas gave the burger a dubious look. āIāve found that something in the composition of ketchup doesnāt agree with me. And sesame seeds are irritating.āĀ
Ā
Dean shoved the smile that wanted to break across his face behind another bite, unwillingly amused. āYeah, okay. What about the kid?āĀ
Ā
āHe doesnāt seem interested yet in anything on the menu. Tabitha is kind enough to allow me to bring in my own food.ā Cas reached into the little shoulder bag heād hauled along with him, pulling out a small mason jar filled with some kind of orange mush. āHeās partial to pumpkin puree right now.āĀ
Ā
Cas carefully dumped some out into the little bowl, using his spoon to scoop some up and guide it into Jackās mouth. Jack was surprisingly cooperative about it, obediently opening his mouth whenever the spoon came close and smacking his lips. Cas didnāt even have to pretend to be an airplane.Ā
Ā
By the time Dean was moving onto his fries, there was just a remnant of the puree left in Jackās bowl, which Cas seemed happy to let Jack finger paint across the high-chair table. Cas turned to his own salad, stabbing his fork into it with a reluctant air. Dean supposed inoffensive wasnāt the same as good, judging by the put-upon expression on his face.Ā
Ā
He could only watch Cas fork salad into his face despondently for so long.Ā
Ā
āGive it here,ā he said, pulling the plate across the table. He snatched up his fork. āMaking me eat rabbit food,ā he grumbled, taking a big bite. The thing was all spine, so at least it had some decent crunch, not like those spinach things Sam was so fond of.Ā
Ā
Cas ducked his head, a small smile on his face.Ā
Ā
āThank you, Dean.ā He managed just a few bites of the cinnamon bun before he pushed that over to Dean as well.Ā
Ā
Dean paused in demolishing his food long enough to notice the kid staring at him fixedly. His mouth was a little agape, streaks of orange mush smeared all around it. His head was tilted a little to the side and Dean realized abruptly that he recognized that look. Cas had made the same goddamn face ā minus the pumpkin ā when heād been new to Earth way back in the first apocalypse, when he looked at everything he saw as if it had been made specifically to confuse him.Ā Ā
Ā
It was weird seeing that expression on a babyās face. Almost weirder than how the kid couldnāt seem to look away, not even when Cas reached over to mop up the spilled food.Ā
Ā
āWhatās up with the kid?ā Dean asked, shoving more of the bun into his mouth.Ā Ā
Ā
Cas glanced at him before turning his attention back to Jack. His hand was just as steady with a napkin as it had ever been on an angel blade.Ā
Ā
āHe recognizes you,ā Cas said. He glanced at Dean again, meeting his eyes for a second before looking away. āI...might have mentioned you. A few times.āĀ
Ā
Dean wasnāt sure what the hell that meant. Cas had mentioned him to the kid? Why bother when he wasnāt planning on seeing him again? Maybe Cas was just being polite and the kid actually thought Dean was a freak. Or Cas had mentioned Dean, but only to complain. Telling the kid what a moron Dean was, how they were better off clear of him.Ā
Ā
Nah, that wouldnāt have been it. Whatever Casā flaws, heād never been intentionally cruel.Ā
Ā
Dean sighed, abruptly exhausted with this whole farce. He shoved the remnants of the cinnamon bun away, leaning back in his seat to look at Cas.Ā
Ā
āWhat are we even doing here, Cas?ā he asked.Ā
Ā
Cas didnāt look at him; his shoulders tensed. āWeāre eating.ā
Ā
āDon't give me that, you know thatās not what I mean.āĀ
Ā
Cas sighed quietly, folding his hands on the table. He still didnāt look at Dean. āThen what do you mean, Dean?āĀ
Ā
āI mean,ā Dean cut himself off, staring at Cas. Heād spent months, months, looking for Cas. Even after that dream, he hadnāt been able to give up. Even now, when heād forced himself to acknowledge the reality of Casā disappearance from his life, he still searched, checking newspapers, blogs, weather networks, for anything even remotely unusual in the distant hope it might be Cas. He mightāve spent the rest of his life doing it, searching for someone who didnāt want to be found, thinking that he had to swoop in to save Cas and feeling like he was failing every day he didnāt.Ā
Ā
āI mean this, man.ā Dean gestured around them, between them. āI havenāt seen you in a year, a freaking year, and the last time I did see you, you ran off with Lucifer's baby mama and mind whammied me and Sam into next week. And now weāre going out to lunch like old buddies?ā
Ā
āWe are old buddies,ā Cas said, quietly.Ā
Ā
Dean narrowed his eyes at him. āAre we? Or was I imagining it when you gatecrashed my dream and told me to get lost?ā
Ā
Cas stiffened. āThat is not what I said.āĀ
Ā
āOh really? Because itās sure what it sounded like.ā
Ā
Cas finally looked at him, the sudden force of his gaze crashing into Dean.Ā
Ā
āThen you misheard me,ā he said firmly, āI chose to go, I had to go, to protect Jack. To protect you and Sam and Mary.ā
Ā
āWhat, from him?ā Dean asked, gesturing at the kid.Ā
Ā
Cas had the nerve to roll his eyes. āNo, Dean, from the things hunting him.ā
Ā
āOh yeah?ā Dean asked, leaning forward. He knew he was getting too upset, his voice starting to raise, but he just couldnāt stop it. āThey hunt you all the way out to the coast, leave you no choice but to settle down in a cute one bedroom with Satan's kid? Really seems like youāre hiding out, real subtle.ā
Ā
Cas glared narrowly at him. āAnd what would you have preferred, an underground fortress? Would that have met your standards?ā
Ā
Yes, goddammit , Dean wanted to say. What was so bad with Dean's hole in the ground? It was fortified, protected, and it was home. But Cas had never seemed to want to be there; the room Dean had given him had remained unused, gathering dust and empty of all but the bare essentials.Ā
Ā
Heād justified it to himself, over and over ā what the fuck did he know about how angels liked to live? Heād never seen an angelās home, not even when heād been in heaven. Cas had never spoken of anything that sounded even remotely like a home in heaven. Heād mentioned a garrison, a flight, but never a barracks or a house. Maybe angels didnāt live like that, Dean had told himself. Maybe that was why Cas stayed away; he didnāt know any better.Ā
Ā
But clearly he did, so there was a different problem here. Two guesses what that was.Ā
Ā
The thought hurt and like Dean so often did, he turned that hurt back around into anger.Ā
Ā
āLike youāve ever given a shit what I prefer,ā he hissed.Ā
Ā
Casā jaw went tight, his chin going up. Heād never learned how to hide when a hit landed, not like Dean had. He looked away again, a harrowed look in his eyes.Ā
Ā
āDean, I don't want to argue,ā he said.Ā
Ā
āThen why am I here, man?ā Dean asked. He was tired of this, all of it; the situation, Cas leaving, and most especially, himself. He didnāt like this part of himself that always seemed to come out when he was fighting with Cas. The part that forgot Cas deserved the benefit of the doubt, that Cas had bled for them, died for them, done more for them than anyone could ever have expected or asked for. The part that always left him with a sour taste in his throat and a lingering memory from his childhood before the fire, of screaming fights that ended with his dad storming out of the house with his mom angry and silent in the doorway watching him go.Ā
Ā
Casā head went up, his hot glare skewering Dean across the table.Ā
Ā
āI donāt know, Dean, why are you here?ā he demanded, āyouāre the one who followed me to my home, who decided to stay and took us here in the first place. If staying is such an imposition, then why did you bother?āĀ
Ā
Dean didnāt know why. He couldnāt explain anything heād done today to himself, let alone Cas. The only thing he knew was that heād known, seeing Cas at that gas station, that he couldnāt let him disappear without a word. If heād just left then, never seen Cas again, heād have regretted forever. He just wasnāt sure if this was better.Ā
Ā
Dean noticed, suddenly, that the diner was quieter than it had been. A few of the closest patrons were ignoring them in that clearly deliberate way people had when they had noticed something and didnāt want to make it their business. Tabitha was over at the counter, mechanically wiping out coffee mugs and shooting daggers at Dean.Ā
Ā
Well, Dean could check off making a scene in public off his to-do list for the day. He sighed heavily and slugged back the rest of his luke-warm coffee.Ā
Ā
āWhatever, man. Letās get out of here.ā
Ā
Cas didnāt say a word, gathering Jack up into his arms. Dean couldnāt help but notice that Jack was looking at him a little warily, his fingers curling into Casā shirt. Dean felt some toxic mix of shame and envy surge through him, so powerfully he didnāt even notice when Cas put down a wad of cash in front of Tabitha.Ā
Ā
āThank you,ā he said, shooting her a strained smile. āIt was lovely.āĀ
Ā
āYouāre always welcome,ā she said, almost too enthusiastically. As soon as Cas turned for the door, she shot Dean a murderous look. Yeah, yeah, message received. Dean better be out of a town by sundown or Tabitha would hunt him down and make him regret it.Ā
Ā
They drove back to the house in stone cold silence. Even the kid seemed to have picked up on it, quietly holding his toes while Cas held him securely. It wasnāt a long drive and Dean spent it the whole thing wracking his brain for anything else to say.Ā
Ā
But there wasnāt really anything, was there? Dean didnāt know how to walk back anything heād said and he didnāt know what to say to make it better. He didnāt even know if Cas was interested in hearing anything like that from him.Ā
Ā
Maybe he and Cas had said everything they had to say to each other. Maybe it was time to just let this go, like he should have done a year ago when Cas frigginā told him to.Ā
Ā
Soon enough, Dean was parking in front of Casā house. He thought Cas might step out right away, slam the door behind him as he rushed back into his house and his life, leaving Dean and his bullshit far behind. But he didnāt, choosing instead to sit in silence in the backseat. Dean glanced at him in the rearview mirror, finding his eyes, and they sat there wordlessly, listening to the engine ping as it cooled.Ā
Ā
āWhere are you going from here?ā Cas finally asked.Ā
Ā
āBack to the bunker.ā Any thoughts of stopping at the ocean or taking the long way home were long gone. Dean needed to be on the open road taking the fast lane straight back to his memory foam mattress as soon as possible, so he could lie down and drink until he forgot this whole day had even happened. If he tried hard enough, maybe heād even forget heād seen Cas at all.Ā
Ā
Cas looked at him for another long moment, unspeaking. His face was set in a small frown, distant and sad. It could have been years ago, Dean dropping Cas off at the Gas-N-Sip, forcing himself to tell Cas he was proud of him rather than what he wanted to say, which was to beg him to come back home. Those same pleading words were perched in the back of Deanās throat now, on the verge of coming out.Ā
Ā
But it wouldnāt do any good. Everything Dean had seen today had just made it even more clear ā Cas had a home here, one heād made rather than been given. A place heād chosen to stay. He had a fucking kid, for godās sake, and a place all set up for that kid. Why the hell would he leave all that to go to some hole in the ground? Could they even baby proof the bunker? And what the hell would that even be like ā Cas playing house with a baby powerful as god while the rest of them went out on hunts, tiptoeing in bloody and exhausted so they wouldnāt wake the baby. It sounded like some screwed up sitcom. That wasnāt real life, wasnāt any kind of life Dean would want to inflict on a child, even one who was already chest deep in the supernatural.Ā
Ā
It was better to just not say anything. At least Dean could leave with his dignity intact.Ā
Ā
Dean made himself smile and hoped it looked less ghoulish than it felt. āIāll be seeing you.āĀ
Ā
Cas stared for a moment longer. He opened his mouth as if to speak then pressed his lips back together and nodded.Ā
Ā
āSay goodbye, Jack,ā he said. Jack blinked and made a soft, cooing noise, his eyes flicking anxiously between the two of them. It made Deanās stomach twist.Ā
Ā
Cas got out of the car, closing the door softly behind him. He bent down to look through the passenger window at Dean, that same frown shading his face. āGoodbye, Dean.āĀ
Ā
Dean nodded, tongue tied, waving in lieu of words. Cas stepped back from the car and Dean pulled away.Ā
Ā
Dean didnāt kid himself that his exit looked like anything other than an inglorious retreat. He glanced back in the rearview mirror, watching Cas and the kid shrink behind him until he had to turn the corner and they were gone.Ā
_
Ā
Just like every time he had an argument with Cas, Dean regretted it immediately. Luckily, he had a long drive home to obsess over it. He drove until he was going cross eyed and pulled off the road to get some sleep somewhere in Utah.Ā
Ā
He slept poorly and got back onĀ the road as soon as he could see straight again. His shoulders didnāt relax until he took the turn off from the 281, the familiar grass waving in the breeze and the dingy stop sign with half the letters bleached out by the sun. Minutes later he was pulling into the bunkerās garage.Ā
Ā
He put the car in park and cut the engine. The silence was deafening after the roar of road sound, his ears ringing without the sound of the engine and Metallica. Dean heaved a deep sigh, crossing his arms on the steering wheel to hide his face in the darkness there.Ā
Ā
He was so tired it felt like every muscle was aching with it. It went beyond the exhaustion of a long road trip. His eyes felt gritty, his jaw sore from grinding his teeth, his ears still thrumming from the music heād turned up loud in an attempt to drown out his thoughts. The darkness of his folded arms was soothing after peering into the glaring headlights of the highway. His bed seemed too far away; he wondered if he was too old to just turn around and curl up in the back seat for the second night in a row.Ā
Ā
Or maybe he could stay here, folded up in the front, leaning on Babyās steering wheel. Maybe if he stayed here long enough, he could forget all about this whole thing. And in the morning when he got the will to get out of the car, he would walk into the kitchen and his family would be there.Ā
Ā
The thing was, Dean never knew how to fix arguments with Cas. Sometimes it felt like they were never truly finished, just forgotten or set aside. They'd fight like dogs and then they'd move on, the wounds scabbing over until the next fight tore them open all over again.Ā
Ā
Dean knew that the cycle was his fault, as much as he hated it. He didn't know how to resolve arguments; hell, he'd spent most of his life not even knowing how to make them, doing his best to stop the fighting between Dad and Sam. And they had never apologized to each other or admitted fault. He supposed the Winchesters were all a bunch of stubborn sons of bitches.Ā
Ā
But Cas was different. Yeah, it had taken him a while to really understand the whole feelings thing, but he loved to talk. Which was something Dean could not have imagined saying about the guy way back when they first met. But maybe Cas had read a book on emotional honesty along the way or maybe he'd just decided to stop giving a shit, but most of the time, Dean could count on him to say what he meant. If he was upset, if he was angry, if he was happy, he'd tell anyone who'd want to listen. He'd want to talk their fights out to lay them to rest. But Dean couldn't bear to. And because Cas was a forgiving man at the end of the day and always tried to spare Dean the hard parts of life, he'd let it go and so the cycle continued.Ā
Ā
And what was there to fix this time, anyway? Cas was done with him. He'd reached the end of his rope. The question wasn't why he'd left, it was how had he stayed so long in the first place.Ā
Ā
Dean sighed again and jumped at the tapping on his window. He jerked his head up and stared at Sam, peering back at him through the glass.Ā
Ā
Dean opened the car door, hearing Samās little āoofā when the door hit his legs.Ā
Ā
āThe hell are you doing here?ā Dean asked, getting out of the car.Ā
Ā
āWe finished early. Eileen had a friend down in Des Moines that needed a hand so I figured Iād head back,ā Sam said. He took a couple steps back, giving Dean an exaggerated look up and down. āWhatās wrong with you?āĀ
Ā
āI just drove twelve hours and I need a fucking nap, thatās whatās wrong with me.āĀ
Ā
āUh-huh,ā Sam said, clearly skeptical, āis that why youāre hiding in the car like someone ditched you for prom?ā
Ā
āWhat? No . Iām fine, Sam.ā Dean brushed by Sam, taking the stairs down into the bunker proper.Ā
Ā
āYeah, you sure seem like it,ā Sam muttered behind him. His footsteps trailed Dean inside.Ā
Ā
Dean dropped his bag on the war room table and turned on auto-pilot to the kitchen. He made a beeline for the fridge, pulling a beer out with probably too much relief. Sam had folded himself down onto a stool at the table by the time he turned back around. Dean passed the beer heād grabbed across the table to Sam and grabbed another for himself.Ā
Ā
Sam eyed the beer. āYou know itās two in the morning, right?āĀ
Ā
Dean shot him a grin, cracking his bottle open and snagging a seat. āFive oāclock somewhere, right?āĀ
Ā
Sam snorted. āI donāt think thatās how that works.āĀ
Ā
Dean shrugged and took a long pull off the bottle.Ā
Ā
āSoā¦.ā Sam said, leadingly. He was pointedly ignoring his own beer.Ā
Ā
āSo?ā
Ā
Sam rolled his eyes. āSo, howād it go?ā
Ā
Dean shrugged. āFine. Turned out it was just the one of them, went down pretty easy, got back on the road.ā He took another long drink.Ā
Ā
āSaw Cas,ā he said, very casually. It was worth it for the dramatic double take Sam threw him.Ā
Ā
āWait a minute, what? You saw Cas?ā he demanded.Ā
Ā
āYep.ā Dean took another draw of his beer. āDown in Eureka.ā
Ā
Sam spluttered. āWell, what is he doing there? Is he alright?ā
Ā
Dean snorted. āOh yeah, heās fine. Living in a fucking stepford house with Satanās kid.ā
Ā
If possible, Samās eyebrows rose even further. āHe has the nephilim with him?ā
Ā
āYep.ā
Ā
āAnd?ā
Ā
Dean shrugged, took another pull. āAnd what?ā
Ā
Sam threw his hands up in the air. āOh my god, Dean, literally any details! Is Cas okay? Did you manage to talk to him? Whatās he doing with the kid? Whatās the kid like?ā
Ā
Dean took another pull; he was already halfway done. āYeah, we went for lunch.ā
Ā
Sam stared. āYou ā you went for lunch.ā
Ā
āYeah.ā
Ā
Sam paused for a long moment, seeming to need it to digest that. Then he asked, āWas the kid there?ā
Ā
āYep.ā
Ā
āOkay, and?ā Sam asked, clearly frustrated.Ā
Ā
Dean shrugged again, leaning back on the stool. āAnd, I donāt know, it was normal.ā
Ā
āNormal?ā
Ā
Dean glared at him. āYeah, normal. He just seemed like a regular kid.ā
Ā
Sam clearly didnāt believe that but he let it go. āAnd how was Cas?āĀ
Ā Ā
āHe wasā¦ā Dean trailed off, shaking his head. āI donāt know, man. It was weird.ā
Ā
āWeird how?ā Sam demanded, before his face folded into a frown. āWait a minute, if the kid is normal, what does that mean? Is he controlling Cas?ā
Ā
Of course, Sam would get there way before Dean had. It was humiliating, to have to admit how wrong heād been, to retract what heād sworn was true over a year ago. Deanās stomach roiled with it; or maybe that was just the beer.Ā
Ā
āNah, man. He ā ā he paused, killing the bottle. āHe never was.ā
Ā
Sam looked at him closely, his eyes narrowing. āWait. Youāre saying he was never controlled? Not even back at the playground?ā
Ā
āNo, he ā he just left.ā Dean walked to the fridge, grabbed another beer. He knew it wasnāt a good idea, that heād feel like shit come morning with the alcohol compounding a long drive and a series of shitty days. But fuck it, he needed it. āHe said some bullshit about something the kid showed him. Peace, or something. So he left to take care of it. Him.ā
Ā
Dean was still facing toward the sink, leaning on it with one hand, beer in the other. He heard Sam sigh behind him; he glanced over his shoulder to see Sam had put his head in hands.Ā
Ā
āSo, let me get this straight,ā Sam said. āWeāve spent a year trying to find Cas and all this time heās been in California being a dad.ā He laughed disbelievingly, running his hands through his hair.
Ā
āYep.ā It was all so clear in retrospect. Cas had told him so himself in that goddamn dream. It wasnāt Casā fault Dean was an idiot. And it wasnāt Samās fault that Dean hadnāt told him about that dream. It had felt too odd, too strange, and too private. Heād woken up knowing he had to tell Sam about it but by the time heād actually managed to pry himself from bed and face Sam, heād been too ashamed.Ā
Ā
Heād thought, for the longest time, that that dream had been his last real chance to save Cas, and heād blown it. He couldnāt bear to tell anyone about that, not even Sam.Ā
Ā
Sam still had his head braced in his hand. āHe couldāve called us.ā
Ā
āYeah, he couldāve,ā Dean said, finally opening his beer.Ā
Ā
āWe had a plan,ā Sam said, āif we took the grace āā
Ā
Dean shook his head. āNah, Cas said it wouldnātāve worked.āĀ
Ā
Sam squinted up at him, his head still in his hand. He stayed slumped across the table, tired lines around his eyes. Dean wondered when his little brother had gotten so old.Ā
Ā
āReally?ā he asked.Ā
Ā
āYeah, something like that. Said it wouldāve been awful for the kid, having his grace taken out. Like losing a soul.āĀ
Ā
That made Samās eyes go distant; Dean knew he was thinking about when his own soul had been missing, the things heād done. Dean had told him enough times that he wasnāt responsible for any of that, that it hadnāt really been him. He had never been sure if Sam believed him.Ā
Ā
āSo, now what?ā Sam asked, eventually.Ā
Ā
Dean shrugged, taking a long pull on his beer. āLooks like heās gonna raise the kid. Heās a full-blown dad.āĀ
Ā
Sam snorted. āThatās hard to imagine.āĀ
Ā
āWell, believe it.ā
Ā
They sat in silence for a long moment, Dean steadily making his way through his beer, Sam picking at the label on his own.Ā
Ā
Sam broke the silence. āYou couldāve called me.ā
Ā
āWhat?ā Dean asked.Ā
Ā
āWhen you saw him? You went to lunch together and didnāt think to let me know?ā Sam asked. If anything, he sounded hurt.Ā
Ā
āI just did.ā
Ā
Sam sighed, deeply, pushing himself up from the table. āWell, weāre going back, so you better get to bed.ā
Ā
Dean slumped over the table with a deep groan. āSam,ā he whined, āI just drove a thousand miles, I donāt wanna go all the way back.ā
Ā
Sam glared down at him. āYouāre not the only one who missed Cas, okay? I wanna see him. Iāll drive if youāre still wiped in the morning.ā
Ā
Dean sighed, wiping a hand down his face. āSam, I donāt know if itās a good idea.ā
Ā
Sam frowned. āWhy? Did Cas say something? Is it not safe?ā Dean could tell from Samās expression that if Dean told him yes, Cas had said visiting would put them at risk, then Sam would back down. Which was all that Dean really wanted at two in the freaking morning.Ā
Ā
But...maybe all those talks he and Sam had had about not lying to each other were finally starting to stick. Or maybe Dean just didnāt want to see the disappointment on Samās face.Ā
Ā
āNah, he didnāt really say much about that. Itās just...ā he trailed off.
Ā
Samās expression dropped from concern into exasperation. āPlease tell me you didnāt have a fight with him.ā
Ā
Dean took a slug of his beer, avoiding Samās eyes. It didnāt quite cover up Samās groan.Ā
Ā
āI canāt believe you two,ā he said, throwing his hands in the air, āI donāt care what you said, heās my friend too and I wanna see him. So youāre just going to have to deal with it like an adult because weāre going back tomorrow.ā
Ā
āGod, alright,ā Dean said, standing up. He hadnāt quite finished his beer. He considered the judgmental look Sam would give him if he chugged the bottle and poured the rest down the sink with a little sigh.Ā
Ā
āSo you should get some sleep.ā
Ā
Dean threw his hands in the air, retreating from the kitchen. āJesus, okay, Iām going.ā
Ā
āAnd brush your teeth!ā Sam yelled after him. Dean groaned loudly in response and went straight to his bed to collapse.Ā
_
Ā
He had weird dreams all night, probably a mix of exhaustion and the late-night/early-morning beer. They were mixed up, confusing. At one point, he was in a motel room he remembered from one shitty summer when he was sixteen. That was the year Samās school had made his whole grade do a music course and Sam had become obsessed with the recorder theyād given him. Sam had been pretty decent at it āas good as anyone could be with a recorderā playing songs from the radio that heād figured out by ear. Heād seemed to think Dean wouldnāt mind so much if Sam was playing rock music rather than the sheet music his teacher had given him; Dean had had to listen to so many shitty renditions of rock songs that summer.Ā
Ā
In the dream, Sam was sitting on the bed across from him, practicing the fingerings on his recorder and blowing through the occasional note, in the middle of figuring out how to play Sweet Child Oā Mine. Dean was sprawled on his own bed, buried in a shitty novel heād nabbed from the library. He couldnāt concentrate on the story and kept thinking about the dwindling pile of cash Dad had left them and how there was no way it would last them for the two weeks Dad had said heād be gone.Ā Ā
Ā
The dream shifted, in the way they always did. Dean was suddenly outside a bar, some dive he was still years too young to actually be in, not that the staff cared. He could feel his jacket hanging off him, too big like heād always worn when he was younger.Ā He ducked his chin into the popped collar, glancing up at the neon Coors sign hanging in the window.Ā
Ā
He was cold, he was hungry, and he was miserable. And desperately, desperately broke, with Sam just as hungry in the motel room across town.Ā
Ā
He was in the bar within a blink, peering through the dim space, the air hazy with cigarette smoke. The pool table was a bit busy, good ole boys gathered around sizing up their shots and slugging back beers. They had the hazy look of people whoād had a few drinks; might be good marks. But they were also big so they might kick his ass once they realized what he was doing. It was a risk, for sure, but if he made out with even just twenty bucks to show for it, it would be worth it.Ā
Ā
He started to walk over and got distracted by the shoulders of the guy leaning against the bar. He glanced over just in time to catch Deanās eyes ā a striking blue pinned Dean to the spot. For a split second, he wondered if he was desperate enough to try it with this guy. Heād never done it before, not with a guy, not for money, never been desperate enough, but he felt desperate now.Ā
Ā
Dean hesitated, then lowered himself into the stool next to Blue Eyes, his stare boring into him the entire time. Dean had to steel himself before he could meet that gaze.Ā
Ā
He opened his mouth to speak and Blue Eyes cut him off.Ā
Ā
āDean,ā Cas said, āyouāre dreaming.āĀ
Ā
Dean sighed, blinking down at the green jacket now covering his arms. He could feel it tighter around his biceps, pulling across his shoulders as he hunched over the bar. He could practically feel the wrinkles settling around his eyes, the fat and muscle lining his bones that hadnāt been there when heād been a scrawny kid, wearing his dadās hand-offs.Ā
Ā
āYeah, I figured.ā He looked around the room again, spotting Charlie and Kevin sitting at a table in the back, Mom and Jody hunched over the bar around the corner. He couldnāt see Sam anywhere.Ā
Ā
He looked back at Cas. āAre you really here?āĀ
Ā
Cas quirked his lips up in amusement, an expression Dean had watched Cas learn. āWhat do you think?āĀ
Ā
Dean picked up the whiskey that had appeared in front of him. āYou wouldnāt leave me, right?ā he asked, taking a large sip.Ā
Ā
Casā hand came to rest on Deanās arm. It was warm, solid, moving down his arm until Casā fingers rested gently against the palm of his hand. āOf course not.āĀ
Ā
Dean snorted, putting the glass down. āYeah, thatās what I thought youād say.āĀ
Ā
_Ā
Ā
He woke up groggy, his eyelids glued together. He stayed in bed, staring at the dark ceiling, until he heard Samās footsteps down the hall.Ā
_
Ā
They loaded into the car shortly after nine. Dean still felt exhausted, weariness dogging every step and pulling at his eyes. He hoped the coffee heād been mainlining since heād stumbled into the kitchen would kick in soon. He took comfort in the fact that Sam looked equally as exhausted, slumped in the passenger seat with his head against the window.Ā
Ā
āHowād you sleep?ā Sam asked.Ā
Ā
Dean grunted in response.Ā
Ā
āYeah, same,ā Sam said. He sighed and closed his eyes, keeping them closed while Dean pulled out of the garage.
Ā
āYou still shouldāve told me, man,ā Sam finally said as Dean accelerated onto the highway.Ā
Ā
āI did tell you,ā Dean said. Sam had clearly been stewing over this all night, judging by the tight frown on his face. Dean hadnāt had enough coffee to have this conversation again.Ā
Ā
But Sam didnāt seem to care about Deanās lack of coffee intake. If anything, Deanās response seemed to energize him; he sat up straight to shoot Dean a glare. āYeah, after you drove halfway across the country! Did you lose your phone?ā
Ā
āNo, Sam, I just ā ā
Ā
āHeās my friend, too! Youāre not the only one whoās been worried sick for the past year! I wouldāve wanted to know you found him.ā
Ā
āJesus, okay!ā Dean said. āI wasnāt thinking straight, alright?ā
Ā
Sam muttered something under his breath, turning his head back toward the window. Dean shot him a hard look.Ā
Ā
āWhat was that?ā
Ā
Sam sighed, heavily. āNothing, Dean.ā
Ā
They sat in silence for a few minutes, the grass ticking by on the side of the highway. The road was fairly empty so far, beside the odd long haul trucker speeding along. But it was clear skies and sunny; Dean accelerated, watching the speedometer tick higher.Ā
Ā
Sam broke the silence abruptly, still staring out the window. āI couldāve met you down there.ā
Ā
Any weariness Dean had managed to shed flooded back in until he was even more tired than heād been when heād finally laid down the night before.Ā
Ā
Of course he knew he couldāve called Sam. Things probably would have gone a lot better if he had; maybe with Sam playing peacekeeper, they wouldnāt have ended up having a fight in Casā favorite diner. But it hadnāt occurred to him at the time; heād seen Cas and everything else had fallen away.
Ā
He could still picture the look on Casā face, looking through the passenger window as they said goodbye. He couldnāt handle Sam being upset with him, too.Ā
Ā
āSam, I just. It didnāt go well, okay? He wasnāt exactly happy to see me.ā Dean thought about the look on Casā face when he spotted Dean at the gas station, when he opened the door at his house. His little smile in the diner and how quickly it faded when Dean screwed it all up, just like he always did.Ā
Ā
āYou managed to go to lunch,ā Sam said, āwhat did you guys talk about?ā
Ā
Dean sighed. āI donāt know, Sam, a bunch of stuff. We mostly argued, actually.ā
Ā
Sam snorted. āWell, not much has changed, then.ā
Ā
āSam,ā Dean said, pained.Ā
Ā
Sam lifted his hands in surrender, something that looked a little pitying in his expression.Ā
Ā
They drove in silence for a while longer. Dean tried to muster up the will to grab a tape, throw on the radio, anything to relieve the quiet. Radio would just be static now before the country station based out of Kearney started to edge through, every other word lost to the static. He hated that station anyway ā all a bunch of whackjobs twanging along about wanting to fuck their trucks or something ā but reaching for a tape seemed like too much effort.
Ā
So he stewed, instead, watching the miles tick by. They were joined by a few more vehicles, mostly farmers in their pickups going into town. He had to slow down to ease past a tractor trundling on the side of the road, again going past a car pulled over with its hazards on.Ā
Ā
The road stretched in front of them, disappearing over the horizon, the engine thrumming along beneath them. Usually, driving calmed Dean down and he could feel a little of that peace settling on him, still. But there was a part of him that had been wound up tight since heād spotted Cas in that gas station that refused to come undone, sitting like a stone in his gut.Ā
Ā
It was seeing Cas again, he knew, after doing his best to ignore the hole heād left behind. Thereād been a part of Dean that had honestly believed heād never see Cas again; hell, for all heād known, the nephilim or Lucifer or someone had killed the bastard a year back and Dean would never find out the truth, constantly haunted by a ghost that didnāt even have the decency to be real. When heād imagined finding him, it hadnāt been anything like what heād seen in California. That Cas had seemed content in a life that Dean could barely understand. Cas had never said heād wanted that, to live in a house in a nice neighbourhood, go to the local restaurants, be a known person in the community. Those had always been Deanās dreams, pushed down and away after the fiasco with Lisa and Ben when heād truly come to understand that he had no place in that world.Ā
Ā
And here Cas was, less human than heād been in years, raising his monster child in the fucking suburbs. It didnāt make any sense.Ā
Ā
He could feel Samās eyes on him after a while, watching him. He felt his body tense up under the attention, his shoulders drawing up around his ears.Ā
Ā
āThis is really wigging you out, isnāt it?ā Sam asked, quietly.Ā
Ā
Dean threw him a glance, studying Samās concerned face before looking back at the road. Dean sighed and sagged back into the seat, taking a hand off the wheel long enough to wipe a palm down his face.Ā
Ā
āI don't know, man,ā he said, āitās just not what I expected y'know? When we found Cas again, I mean.ā
Ā
Because of course Dean had thought about it, Sam knew him too well not to know that. Dean hadnāt known what the hell it would mean to rescue Cas from a nephilim, if it would even be possible, and so heād found his daydreams turning to something a bit easier to grasp: finding Cas, bringing him back to the bunker. Heād thought about having Cas around, always underfoot rather than somewhere off in the wind with no explanation of where he was going or why. Heād thought about being able to swing by Casā room, say good morning or goodnight, or sit on Casā bed and watch a movie together. It was embarrassing, how much time Dean had spent thinking about it, the idea of just having Cas close nestling under his skin like a splinter: ever-present and painful to the touch.Ā
Ā
Dean thought about what he had expected ā to save Cas from this child, to take Cas home with him. He hadnāt expected that Cas would have found a new home in the meantime.
Ā
āHeās really got a house?ā Sam asked after a moment.
Ā
āYeah.ā
Ā
Sam snorted a laugh. āWho wouldāve thought, huh?ā
Ā
Dean couldnāt help but laugh with him. āNot me, man. Not me.ā
Ā
āIs it a nice house?ā
Ā
Dean thought about what heād seen of the placeāthe stained glass window heād just glimpsed in the kitchen, the living room cluttered with baby things. It seemed nice, more of a home than Dean had ever known growing up. It seemed like the kind of place a kid would like to grow up. āYeah, seems like.ā
Ā
āAnd the kid?ā
Ā
Dean shrugged. āHeās fine, too, apparently.ā
Ā
Sam started to smile. āWhatās his name?ā
Ā
āJack.āĀ
Ā
_
Ā
Cas was surprised to see them, if his expression was anything to go by. Dean knew Sam had let him know they were coming āDean had to admit, he would not have thought of using prayer like that . Dean had found he remembered the way back to Casā little house well; with every turn, the dread churning in his stomach turned up another notch.Ā
Ā
But Cas didnāt seem like he wanted to bring up their less than stellar reunion a few days back. He opened the door when the Impala came to a rumbling stop in the driveway, blinking out at them in confusion. Sam practically burst from the car before it had even come to a complete stop, jogging up the pavement and sweeping Cas up in his gigantic arms. Dean watched them while he put the car in park; he could just see Casā face, peeking over Samās shoulders, so he could see when Casā confusion melted into happy relief, when he closed his eyes and hugged Sam back. Dean blinked and looked away, focusing on turning off the car.Ā
Ā
He took his time, rolling up the windows, tucking his keys away. He didnāt look back up at the house again until he was fully out of the car, shutting the door quietly behind him.Ā
Ā
Cas and Sam had separated in the meantime, although they still stood close together. It made something twinge in Deanās chest, that twinge heād had since he was a teenager, watching Sam make friends in school, get invited over to their horses, sit with them at lunch. Dean hadnāt been friendless growing up, but heād never really been close to anyone. He hadnāt seen much of a point in it, knowing theyād split town soon, and itād been hard to relate with kids whoād never seen any of the shit heād seen.Ā
Ā
But people at school had always seemed to like Sam; he tried to fit in there in ways Dean never bothered to, and it worked for him. It was why Sam always mourned when they left a town, no matter how short a time theyād spent there, and Dean had always been hungry to go.Ā
Ā
He knew it wasnāt right to be a little jealous of how easily Cas and Sam got along nowadays ; if anything, he should be grateful. He remembered how theyād been back in the early days: Cas always saying the wrong thing, leaving Sam half awe-struck, half ashamed. But theyād been through some shit together, stuck through some shit together, shit even Dean hadnāt been certain theyād make it through. He remembered too, when he was going to nuke Amara, and how heād known that Cas would take care of Sam after he was gone. That theyād always be there for each other, forever, and the comfort that had brought him.Ā
Ā
But it still stung a little, seeing them be so easy with each other when he and Cas always seemed to rub each other the wrong way eventually. Cas had been his friend first, hell, maybe Deanās first friend ever. It felt like they should be easier with each other than that. Dean couldnāt even remember the last time Sam and Cas had fought, outside of that civil war clusterfuck, and that hadnāt even been about the two of them, not really.Ā
Ā
Maybe Dean had just missed something growing up, something that Sam had learned. About how to relate to people, even people from different species, that Dean never picked up.Ā
Ā
The only person Dean could remember having that kind of ease with, all the time, was Benny. And considering how that had turned out, he wasnāt about to label that a success.Ā
Ā
He hadnāt even gotten to hug Cas, he realized. And now it was too late.Ā
Ā
āDean?ā Sam asked. āYou coming?āĀ
Ā
Dean made himself look away from the car ā Sam was standing alone now by the open door, Cas having disappeared off somewhere inside. He was looking at Dean with a concerned expression.Ā
Ā
āYeah,ā Dean said, ājust a sec.āĀ
Ā
Dean grabbed the bag out of the backseat and made his way up the driveway, his stomach roiling. Sam opened his mouth, probably to say something sympathetic, when Cas reappeared in the doorway.Ā
Ā
Their eyes met and Dean felt that same jolt he always did, like heād missed a step on the stairs. Cas didnāt say anything, looking at Dean for a long moment before he quirked his lips up in a small smile.Ā
Ā
āHello, Dean,ā he said, quietly.Ā
Ā
āHey, Cas,ā Dean said, clearing his throat. He felt some of his nerves ease, fading away with the knowledge that Cas didnāt seem to hold a grudge for how theyād parted last time.Ā
Ā
A loud squeal interrupted them and Dean jerked his head down; Cas had brought the kid out with him. Jack was staring at Sam with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open a bit.Ā
Ā
āGuess heās never seen a giant before,ā Dean said, grinning when Sam rolled his eyes.Ā
Ā
āWeāre practically the same height,ā Sam said, but Cas cut him off succinctly by placing the kid unceremoniously in Samās arms.Ā
Ā
āHe likes you,ā Cas said. Sam gaped at him, his eyes jerking between Cas and the kid, who seemed immensely satisfied in his new position, going by the dopey smile on his face.Ā
Ā
āWait, what, uh, Cas, I-I donāt,ā Sam stammered, his eyes wide. Dean recognized that face, made it himself once or twice in fact. It was the classic look of a person faced with the sudden responsibility of not dropping an infinitely fragile tiny human.Ā
Ā
That face was also frankly hilarious, at least when someone else was wearing it.Ā
Ā
āRelax, Sam,ā he said, trying not to laugh, āheās stronger than god, I think heād be fine if you dropped him.ā
Ā
āNot funny, Dean,ā Sam hissed, shooting Cas a worried look. Dean swallowed another laugh.Ā
Ā
Cas seemed unperturbed by it all; he stepped closer to Sam, gently rearranging his grip until he was holding the kid securely.Ā
Ā
āHe likes you,ā Cas said, again, looking the two of them over with a clearly content expression. The anxiety started to fade from Samās face, his mouth quirking up in a hesitant smile.Ā
Ā
āReally?ā he asked, focusing on the kid. The kid made a little noise, like a smaller version of his attention grabbing squeal, and Samās smile broke out into a full grin.Ā
Ā
āOf course, he does,ā Cas said. His face was painted with fondness, eyes flicking between Samās face and the kidās. Occasionally, that glance would come to rest on Dean; the fondness remained.Ā
Ā
He looked good. Astoundingly, he wasnāt wearing the same thing he had been a few days back ā Dean had half-expected heād just replaced his default outfit with some other dad-lite default. His clothes today were on the same theme, though ā comfortable jeans, a little thready at the knees, a checkered button up. It suited him, somehow, paired well with the fond expression on his face as he watched Sam and Jack.Ā
Ā
Dean swallowed and looked away. He cleared his throat again and tried to get his bearings.Ā
Ā
āUh,ā he said, and didnāt miss how Casā eyes immediately jumped to him. It made Dean shift uncomfortably. āWe, uh, we got you some stuff.ā He hated how it sounded more like a question than a statement.Ā
Ā
Cas tilted his head to the side. āYou did?āĀ
Ā
āYeah,ā Dean said, āwe figured we should, what with all this.ā He gestured vaguely toward the house, a movement mostly lost by the fact he had to keep holding onto his bag.Ā
Ā
Clearly, all meaning had been lost as well; Cas just looked more confused.Ā
Ā
āItās a human tradition,ā Sam said, his eyes still locked on Jack, as if afraid heād disappear if he looked away. āWhen someone gets a new house, you get them stuff for the house. Same when someone has a baby, their friends and family get them things for the baby.āĀ
Ā
Casā confusion cleared away and the fondness returned. He glanced between Sam and Dean, clearly touched.Ā
Ā
āThat was very kind of you, but unnecessary,ā he said.Ā
Ā
āJust take the stuff, man,ā Dean said, holding the bag out.Ā
Ā
Cas took it, pulling the items out one by one. The first was a Nerf gun, lovingly selected by Dean over Samās protests. Cas tilted his head again, flipping the box over to study the picture of the kids wielding the toys and shooting the shit out of each other. He looked up from the box to look at Jack, his eyes narrowed.Ā
Ā
āThank you,ā he said, although he seemed unsure he should be saying it. Dean had a sudden vision of Jack using the toy ā when he was old enough to actually hold it, whatever, Sam ā and Cas staring on stoically as Jack shot him in the chest over and over. Any reservations Dean may have had about buying it completely disappeared in the face of that hilarious mental image.Ā
Ā
Cas turned back to the bag, making a pleased sound when he pulled out the roadkill looking stuffed animal blanket thing that Sam had bought, apparently better known as a Buddy Blanket.
Ā
āWeāve been watching Paw Patrol,ā Cas said, confidingly, rubbing his fingers in the blanket. It was very soft, Dean had to give it that, even though he still thought it was creepy as hell. āJack will enjoy this.āĀ
Ā
The hat was next, a tiny little knit thing with the logo for the Steelers embossed on it, which didnāt really make sense considering theyād bought it in Wyoming. Cas squinted at it, then nodded seriously.Ā
Ā
āThis will be useful in the fall; Jack gets cold easily.ā He paused, shooting the kid a considering look. āThough I wouldnāt say heās a Pittsburgh fan.āĀ
Ā
Dean blinked. āYou know what that is?ā
Ā
Cas blinked back at him. āYou donāt?ā
Ā
āYeah, I know what it is,ā Dean blustered. It was true, kind of . He knew they were a football team and thatās about all he cared to know. āJust surprised you do.ā
Ā
āI do watch sports, Dean,ā Cas said. He sounded like a slightly disapproving teacher; it was unfortunately very endearing.Ā
Ā
āWait a minute, you do?ā Sam said, finally coming back from whatever world heād been on since he realized the kid wanted to be held by him to rejoin the conversation. A good thing too, it saved Dean from digging this hole any deeper.Ā
Ā
āOf course,ā Cas said, now sounding slightly offended.Ā Ā
Ā
āWhen?ā Dean asked.Ā
Ā
Cas suddenly looked shifty. It was always such a funny expression for a million year old being to have it almost made Dean burst out laughing.Ā
Ā
Cas sighed, looking down at the ground. āI didnāt realize the cultural importance some Americans placed on football,ā he said, somewhat conspiratorially, āit was an all-day event.ā
Ā
āHoly shit,ā Sam said, with a laugh, āyou watched the Superbowl?ā
Ā
Dean couldnāt help but laugh too āthe image of Cas at some unsuspecting familyās house, squinting at the football players running around on the screen, taken aback each time a goal was made and everyone around him went ballistic. That was something Dean would have paid money to see.
Ā
Cas nodded, seriously. āI enjoyed the halftime show, although I could have done without the nationalism.ā
Ā
āHey,ā Dean said, āitās the great American past-time, you gotta have some flag waving.ā
Ā
āDean, thatās baseball,ā Sam said.Ā
Ā
Dean stared at him. āWhat?ā
Ā
āThe great American past-time, itās baseball.ā
Ā
āSam is correct, Dean,ā Cas said seriously, adopting his teacher-voice again.Ā
Ā
Dean held his hands up. āOkay, whatever, I donāt actually care. I hope the kid likes the hat.ā
Ā
āHe is only a year old. His preferences will change over time,ā Cas said, ābut heāll appreciate the warmth.āĀ
Ā
Cas reached the bottom of the bag, drawing out the last gift āa bottle of wine. Dean hoped it wasnāt complete shit; neither he nor Sam knew anything about wine. But it had a label he figured Cas would like: a sketch of a mountain meadow, complete with a peaceful stream and surrounding wildflowers. If you looked close enough, you could just see some bees.Ā
Ā
Cas inspected the bottle, a smile breaking across his face when he saw the label.Ā
Ā
āThis will do nothing for me,ā he said, looking between them, that smile still on his face, ābut thank you. You didnāt have to do this.ā
Ā
āNah, Cas, we-we wanted to,ā Dean said.Ā
Ā
Casā eyes shifted to Dean, lingering. āThank you.āĀ
Ā
Dean nodded, mutely, suddenly unable to speak. Cas looked at him a moment longer before his gaze shifted back to Sam.Ā
Ā
āWould you both like to come inside?ā he asked.Ā
Ā
Dean and Sam exchanged glances. Dean felt suddenly unsure. Theyād come all the way out here because Sam had wanted to see Cas, but it still didnāt seem right to linger. Cas had made his decision, hadnāt he? There was a clear boundary between the lives that Dean and Sam led and the life that Cas had here in sunny California. It didnāt feel proper to track any of that into Casā house, even if Cas was the one inviting them in.Ā
Ā
āSure,ā Sam said, following Cas into the house, Jack still held securely in his arms. Dean stepped inside the house last, shutting the door behind them. There was a little pile of bags beside the door, leaning against the wall; Dean could just see a brightly patterned towel sticking out the top of one.Ā
Ā
āYou going somewhere?ā Dean asked, gesturing at the bag. It looked like the blanket had little crabs on it.Ā
Ā
Cas glanced down at the bag. āWe were planning to go to the beach today.ā He hesitated. There was something uncertain in his eyes, and something else Dean couldnāt quite figure out.Ā
Ā
āYou could come with us,ā Cas finally said, eyes flicking between them, āif you want.āĀ Ā
_
Ā
Somehow, they ended up at the beach, though Dean still didnāt really understand why. Cas got into the car with a minimum of complaining this time around, holding Jack securely in his arms. It was a short drive to the beach, but it was early enough it wasnāt totally packed and Dean easily found a spot to park.Ā
Ā
Cas was extremely prepared ānautical themed towels were spread across the hot sand, a rainbow beach umbrella stood at an angle to produce the largest amount of shade. Jack was placed gently in the middle of one of the towels, a tiny tilley hat on his head.Ā Ā
Ā
Sam had changed at Casā place, unearthing a pair of shorts from somewhere. Dean couldnāt remember ever owning a pair of shorts other than the shitty cut-offs he used for washing the car and had opted to stay in his jeans. Cas had changed into swim trunks, some kind of bright yellow abomination in a weird pattern ā Dean had to stare for a few moments before he figured out it was actually corn kernels all over. Cas pushed sunscreen on both of them, patiently slathering it all over Samās back.Ā
Ā
Dean laid back on the blanket, staring at the odd picture they made. It was creepily domestic: Cas and Sam exchanging words too quietly to be heard over the sound of the waves, Jack sprawled on his back beside Cas and waving his limbs in the air. Cas had a wicker sun hat perched on his head, despite the fact that Dean was certain he couldnāt actually get a sunburn.Ā
Ā
Cas finished up with Sam and turned to Dean. His expression went a little hesitant as he held the bottle of sunscreen out to Dean.Ā
Ā
Dean shook his head. āNah, Iām good.āĀ
Ā
Cas frowned at him, holding the bottle out a little more forcibly. āAt least cover your face.āĀ
Ā
āMy face is fine.āĀ
Ā
Cas eyed him narrowly. āDo you want to know the rates of skin cancer among those who donāt use sunscreen?āĀ
Ā
Dean sighed and gave in.Ā
Ā
Being here was weird. Dean couldnāt remember the last time heād been to the beach. Hell, he couldnāt remember being to the beach at all, not outside of a job that brought him near to one. Heād never really seen the point of going; he wasnāt exactly the type to put on a speedo and frolic in the waves, or read a book under an umbrella getting sand in his junk. Though he couldnāt deny heād thought about it before ā him, Sam, Cas, even Mom, toes in the sand, soaking up the sun. It sounded nice, like something a normal family would do.Ā
Ā
Well, Mom wasnāt here and Luciferās baby was, so. It wasnāt quite how heād pictured it.Ā
Ā
Other people were also on the beach, families spreading out with their kids, people settling down with books, some groups of friends clearly breaking out the beers which Dean wouldnāt mind doing himself. Sam had taken a book out from somewhere and kept tilting the cover away so Dean couldnāt see what it was. Dean snorted and gave up, turning back to Cas.Ā
Ā
Sometime in the past few minutes, heād lost his shirt, though the sun hat remained. Dean was subjected to the broad stretch of Casā shoulders, the play of muscles in his arms and chest, shifting gently as he tickled Jackās stomach. His face was angled away but he could just see how Casā cheeks pulled up in a smile.Ā
Ā
Dean shoved his sunglasses on his face and closed his eyes.Ā
Ā
He almost fell asleep right there, the heat of the day eased by the breeze coming off the water. It had been a long drive and the blanket was oddly comfortable on his sore back, though he was sure heād regret lying down when they had to leave. But it was good, for now.Ā
Ā
Dean jerked to full consciousness at a loud shriek, sitting bolt upright. Cas and Jack were perched at the edge of the blanket; Jack was clearly the source of the noise, letting out another shriek as Dean watched. Dean looked at Cas, but he didnāt seem freaked out or worried, though he did have a wary look about him, glancing around furtively, as if waiting for something to happen. Dean followed his gaze around the beach, but there didnāt seem to be anything out of the ordinary, just the same crowd of people, give or take a few, that had been there before he laid down. He glanced back at Cas and Jack, curious.Ā
Ā
Jack was sitting up, balanced by Casā hand on his back. His hands were stretched out in front of him, as if he wanted to touch the sand. But the sand itself ā it was moving before their eyes, shifting and piling on itself to reach upwards, forming shapes. As Dean watched, a depression started to form, sand falling away and building up in columns, all without a hand even touching it.Ā
Ā
āIs he making a sand castle?ā Sam asked. He was staring just like Dean was, mouth agape.Ā
Ā
Castiel nodded, his eyes still tracking up the beach for a moment longer before he seemed to be satisfied no one was staring at the baby making sand castles with his mind.Ā
Ā
āI think he was inspired by our bedtime story last night,ā he said.Ā
Ā
Dean and Sam watched as one of the towers crashed down, only to reform into one more complex, complete with arches and a peaked roof. Dean swore he could see tiny windows in it, like the little windows archers used to defend castles.Ā
Ā
Dean had almost forgotten what the big deal was about Jack. Cas kept throwing around words like powerful and grace and hunted, but Jack had seemed like a fairly normal kid as far as Dean was concerned. He ate, he slept, he shit ā or at least, Dean assumed he did, judging by the stockpile of diapers heād seen by Casā door. All regular baby things. The only thing heād done that other babies couldnāt was heal Casā grace, but it wasnāt like Dean could see that.Ā
Ā
Seeing Jack manipulate his surroundings with nothing more than a wave of his hand...that was something else entirely.Ā
Ā
Sam seemed less thrown by it all; after a brief moment of hesitation,Ā he dug into Casā bag and came up with a plastic cup and went to join them by the sand. Sam patiently gathered the sand in the cup, digging down until he could find the wetter sand. Then he quickly turned the cup over and pulled it off, leaving behind a cup-shaped mound. Jack seemed enthralled, clapping his hands together excitedly before flapping them. Another sand mound, shaped exactly the same, sprouted beside Samās.Ā
Ā
āYeah, thatās it,ā Sam said. āLetās make another.āĀ
Ā
Dean watched Sam gathering more sand into the cup and wondered if Sam had been to the beach before, maybe while he was at Stanford. Maybe he and Jess and some of their other friends had gone to the beach and drunkenly made sand castles, indulging their younger hearts and unaware that Sam was doing it for the very first time.Ā
Ā
Sam was now patting the sand gently, encouraging Jack to do the same. Jack mimicked him, gingerly at first but growing more confident after he did it a few times.Ā
Ā
āHeās good with children,ā Cas said, settling down next to Dean.Ā
Ā
āYeah, he is,ā Dean said.Ā
Ā
Sam and Jack had turned back to the castle now, Sam using his cup to make simple sand mounds and Jack making complex towers and spires spring fully formed from the ground. Anyone walking by would probably assume Sam was some sand sculpture genius with Jack as his little prodigy in training.Ā
Ā
āHow does he know what a castle looks like?ā Dean asked, eyeing the new arched gateway springing up before them.Ā
Ā
Cas shook his head ruefully. āThere was a documentary on TV the other week. I thought he was asleep but I guess he absorbed it anyway.āĀ
Ā
Dean snorted. āYeah, no kidding.āĀ
Ā
Jack whined suddenly, his face twisting up in distress; Cas sprung to his feet, hurrying over. Sam has a hilarious look on his face, his hands up in the air as if Cas was accusing him of something.Ā
Ā
āI donāt know what I did,ā Sam said.Ā
Ā
Cas shook his head, gathering Jack in his arms. āYou didnāt do anything, Sam. Heās an infant in a very big world. He just gets startled sometimes.ā Cas knelt in the sand, rocking softly as Jack calmed down.Ā
Ā
Dean could count on one hand the number of people he knew who would know what to do with a baby and he never figured heād have to add Cas to that list. Hell, heād seen Cas with a baby before, flipping out because she had a little fever. There was a world of difference between that guy, stressed and sweaty and hurting, and this one, casually holding Jack against his chest with none of the awkwardness heād had then. Heād held that baby in Rexford like he was holding a bomb that would go off at any moment. He held Jack like heād never get tired of it, like holding him was what his arms were for.Ā
Ā
Jack calmed, sighed, and laid his head on Casā shoulder, crumpling his little hat in the process. Cas tilted his own head down over Jack, his face close to Jackās . It was the kind of image Dean expected to find on some mommy blog raving about her husband, the baby whisperer.Ā
Ā
Dean looked away and caught Samās eyes; he was staring straight at Dean with a peculiar look on his face.Ā
Ā
āWhat?ā Dean asked.Ā
Ā
āNothing,ā Sam said, in that tone of voice that implied both that it was Something and Dean was an idiot for not understanding. It had annoyed Dean when Sam had started sounding like that as a snot-nosed ten year old and it annoyed him now.Ā
Ā
Dean sighed and laid back down, determined to ignore it. The sound of the ocean waves coming in was relaxing, even as foreign as it was for someone whoād spent most of his life in landlocked states. He could hear the chatter of the other people around them, bursts of laughter here and there, the shouts of kids down the beach, seagulls crying to each other overhead. Dean was suddenly thankful for the umbrella; it would be just Deanās luck to have one of those bastards decide to take a shit all over him.Ā
Ā
But it was peaceful, even with the ambient noise. Dean felt sleep tugging at him again; he folded his hands over his chest and sighed, letting himself sink further into the blanket.Ā
Ā
āThis is going to sound weird,ā Samās voice suddenly said. āBut I expected him to be...I donāt know, stranger. I guess.āĀ
Ā
Dean slit his eyes open behind his sunglasses to peek. Sam was leaning toward Cas, his elbows balanced on his crossed knees. Jack was still slumped into Casā shoulder but his head was tilted, clearly looking at Sam. As Dean watched, Sam reached out with one hand, Jack immediately grabbing a finger. Sam and Cas both smiled.Ā
Ā
āHow do you mean?ā Cas asked.Ā
Ā
āI just mean, knowing what he is. I guess I thought it would be more obvious, like youād be able to see it. But if he hadnāt done all that,ā Sam said, gesturing at the sand castles, āheād just seem like another kid.āĀ
Ā
Sam was distracted looking down at Jack, now gumming away at his finger, so he didnāt see Cas glance over at Dean. Dean froze in place, knowing his barely open eyes would be hidden by his sunglasses and also knowing that there was no way Cas wouldnāt notice that he was awake and listening. Cas looked at him for a long moment, but turned back to Sam without ratting him out.Ā
Ā
āYouāre thinking about the demon blood,ā he said. Dean froze at the same time Sam did, his face going white as his eyes jumped up to Casā. Dean screwed his eyes shut just before Sam looked toward him, for all the good it would do. If Cas knew he was awake, Sam definitely would; no way he wouldnāt know when Dean was faking sleep after all the motel rooms theyād shared. But Dean continued to pretend and the fiction seemed to give them all the cover they needed for Sam to sigh, soft and shaky, and say, āYeah. Yeah, I am.āĀ
Ā
āSam,ā Cas said, clearly picking his words carefully. āI know you often felt...ostracized as a child. Like you were different from the others.āĀ
Ā
āYeah,ā Sam said, his voice still hushed, āI-I mean, I didnāt know until years later. I still donāt know when Dad found out. When I was growing up, I just thought it was always being the new kid in school, yāknow? But later, I figured that maybe. Maybe people could tell. Like it was obvious I was...impure. And that was why.āĀ
Ā
Dean kept his eyes closed, his muscles relaxed, absolutely determined not to react and let whatever was happening here play out. Sam never really talked about stuff like this, not anymore. Maybe because theyād talked it to death between themselves, maybe because Sam thought he should be over it by now. It hurt, to know Sam was still carrying that burden and to know that Dean himself hadnāt helped to alleviate, no matter how many conversations theyād had.Ā
Ā
The thing was, Dean had felt the same way for so long. Like there was something rotten inside him, some poison that he could never get out. But Dean had inflicted that on himself with the life he lived and the way he lived it, the things heād done. The way he was all twisted up inside, the anger, the self-loathing, that was just how he was; he didnāt know how to change it, so he had to live with it.Ā
Ā
But that wasnāt Sam. That wasnāt Samās burden to carry.Ā
Ā
āSam,ā Cas said, his voice grave and hushed. āYou were not and have never been impure. What was done to you as a child, it was a violation, one no child should ever have to bear. But it didnāt stain you or corrupt you.āĀ
Ā
Dean squinted his eyes open again, hardly daring to, but needing to see Samās face. His expression was all twisted up, his brow furrowed tightly, his lips pressed together. It was that particular expression he made when he was trying not to cry, the one heād made since he was a little kid, and it made Deanās heart squeeze in his chest.Ā
Ā
Cas paused, then gently pressed Jack to Samās chest. The kid went eagerly, practically squirming his way into Samās arms and settling immediately against his chest with a happy sigh. Samās grip was more confident this time around; the about-to-cry face faded, replaced by something softer as he looked down at Jack.Ā
Ā
āYou were just as pure as Jack is,ā Cas said. He sounded absolutely certain. āPure, and good, and full of promise. There was ā is ā nothing strange here.ā He rested one palm against Jackās back and another on Samās arm. āOkay?āĀ
Ā
āOkay, Cas,ā Sam said. His smile was a little watery. āThanks, man.āĀ
Ā
Dean looked at the little tableau they made, all three connected. Cas was practically glowing, lit up by sunlight and compassion. There was something a little lighter around Samās shoulders, a burden temporarily removed so you could almost forget he was carrying it at all. Dean let his eyes fall to the kid, still contentedly cuddled up against Sam, cooing softly.Ā
Ā
Maybe the kid wasnāt so bad, after all. Not if he could help Sam feel a little better.Ā
Ā
_
Ā
Dean managed to actually fall asleep, sometime after Sam and Cas transitioned to talking about a movie Dean had never heard of. He vaguely heard them get up at some point, Sam saying something about going down to the water to which Dean grunted in response. Then he was left in peaceful quiet, the sound of the waves and distant humanity around him.Ā
Ā
A shadow fell over him suddenly, blocking out the sun. Dean squinted his eyes open and found himself looking up at Cas standing above him. He was still very shirtless, Dean noted uncomfortably.Ā
Ā
āJack wants a snow cone,ā Cas said, very seriously.Ā
Ā
āOkay?ā Dean said, blinking blearily. He pulled the sunglasses off his face to rub his eyes.Ā Ā
Ā
Cas just kept standing there. āDo you also want a snow cone?ā
Ā
āHell, yeah,ā Dean said.Ā
Ā
Cas flopped back down on the towel beside him, stretching out. He wasnāt quite covered by the shade of the umbrella, the sunlight stretching across his chest and shoulders. āThen you can go get them. Jack wants a blue one.ā
Ā
Dean sighed and hauled himself up onto his elbows, using the motion to force his eyes away. He looked toward the water and saw Sam and the kid making their way toward them up the hot sand.
Ā
āSam!ā he shouted. Samās eyes shot up to him.Ā
Ā
āWhat?ā he called back.Ā
Ā
āWhat flavor do you want?āĀ
Ā
Sam reached them, kneeling on the towel. He set the kid down gingerly on his feet. Jack took some toddling steps over to Cas and flopped down on his stomach, Cas exhaling at the impact.Ā
Ā
āCan you just get me a water?ā Sam asked.Ā
Ā
āSuit yourself. Cas?āĀ
Ā
āI donāt need to eat or drink,ā Cas said, his voice slightly muffled by Jackās hand, currently doing its best to cover Casā mouth.Ā
Ā
āCāmon, thatās no fun,ā Dean said, āIām getting you one of those twisty potato things.ā And if Cas only ate one bite and Dean got to have the rest of it, he wouldnāt exactly complain.Ā
Ā
Cas fended Jack off long enough to look up at him and smile. āThank you.āĀ
Ā
The concession stand wasnāt far and the line wasnāt too bad. Standing there waiting for the food, he realized that he stuck out like a sore thumb here. Everyone else was wearing tiny bathing suits and little sandals, while Dean was still wearing his t-shirt, jeans, and boots. Even the stand attendants werenāt as covered.Ā
Ā
It made Dean shift uncomfortably, the hot midday sun beating down making his clothes sticky with sweat. He felt suddenly like people were staring, wondering what the hell this guy who didnāt know the dress code was doing here. He took the food with relief and hurried back.Ā
Ā
One advantage of boots on sand āhe couldnāt feel the heat. Though he despaired of ever getting all the sand out of them.Ā
Ā
When he got back, Jack was standing balanced on Casā chest, Cas carefully supporting him. As he got closer, Sam reached over and started tickling Jack's pudgy little belly. Jack giggled uproariously, kicking his little legs. Even Cas was smiling. Dean didnāt think he was imagining the butterflies that seemed to be springing into being from nothing around their umbrella.Ā
Ā
Sam grabbed the water bottle from the crook of his arm before Dean had to figure out how to hand everything over. Cas sat up, settling Jack in his lap before pausing to eye Dean.Ā
Ā
Right, the kid was too young to feed himself and Cas only had two hands and couldnāt handle a snow cone, a potato on a stick, and a kid all at once.Ā
Ā
āWould one of you like to help Jack?ā Cas asked.Ā
Ā
Dean wasnāt sure what his face was doing, but it must have been serious enough that Sam jumped after an almost imperceptible pause.Ā
Ā
āI can do it,ā he said.Ā
Ā
Jack got settled in Samās lap and Dean passed over the snowcone. After a few tries, Sam managed to get the spoon in Jackās mouth, to his apparent delight.Ā
Ā
Dean handed the potato over to Cas. āYou had one of these before?āĀ
Ā
Cas eyed it dubiously. āI havenāt had occasion, no.ā But he took it, considering it for a long moment before taking a small bite.Ā Ā
Ā
In the end, Jack only had two bites of his snow cone before he wanted to play in the sand again. Dean ended up being stuck with eating the half-melted remnants of the snow cone as well as the majority of the potato thing.Ā
Ā
āIs my tongue blue?ā he asked Cas, opening his mouth wide.Ā
Ā
Cas chuckled. āVery.ā
Ā
Dean managed to sneak another short nap, Cas reading Samās book while he and Jack played down by the water, before Jack got tuckered out. Apparently even very powerful babies needed nap time, at least according to Cas.Ā
Ā
Jack didnāt seem to agree, judging by the fuss he started to kick up.Ā
Ā
āYouāll feel much better after a nap,ā Cas said. Jack flailed his arms and whined in response.Ā
Ā
And that seemed to be their cue to leave. Dean glanced at Sam, only to find him already looking. The tension that had been easing in his shoulders was back, a frown twisting his brows. Dean looked back to Cas and saw a similar expression on his face.Ā
Ā
āWeāll help you pack up,ā Dean said and got to his feet, shoving his feet back in his sandy boots.Ā
Ā
Dean and Sam shook out the towels while Cas packed up the kid; soon enough, they were back in the car, stuff safely stowed and Jack wriggling in Casā arms in the back.Ā
Ā
It was just easing into late afternoon now, hours left until the sun set. Plenty of time to get back on the road and head toward home, now that Samās curiosity had been sated. Cas had been surprised but not upset to see them, and he was meeting Deanās eyes whenever he glanced at him in the rearview. Whatever lingering bad feelings there had been after their fight were clearly buried. It had been a surprisingly peaceful day, all around. Part of Dean was glad heād come back.Ā
Ā
But another part of Dean hadnāt managed to entirely settle and still felt discomforted in this town, with this Cas. That part wanted to be back on the highway, the road stretching before him into the distance, the sun beating down, loud music on the radio. He glanced in the rearview again, but Cas wasnāt looking back this time; he was busy looking down at Jack, who was drowsing grumpily in his arms, face stubbornly creased despite Casā gentle touch on his cheek.Ā
Ā
Dean turned his eyes back to the road.Ā
Ā
Harris St would be the best way out of town from Casā place; a couple turns and then heād be back on the 101, heading south to the 36 and then straight out east. They could spend the night around Reno, maybe stop to make some money. Or they could even push on through if Sam napped in the first leg and took the second.Ā
Ā
He glanced at Sam, blinking slowly in the passenger seat. It made Dean think about how tired he was, surprisingly so. He wasnāt as young as he used to be but driving like heād done lately wasnāt usually enough to wipe him out this much. Must have gotten too much sun down at the beach.Ā
Ā
It wasnāt enough to stop him getting out of Dodge, and certainly hadnāt been in the past; there were plenty of times heād gotten behind the wheel after a grueling hunt, running on fumes and caffeine. But by the time he was pulling into Casā driveway, heād mostly made peace with telling Sam theyād grab a hotel for the night rather than driving straight out.Ā
Ā
Sam nodded along, seemingly unsurprised. Dean hadnāt expected for Cas to roll his eyes, pausing halfway out of the car. Deanās stomach only just had a half a chance to start to sink to the ground when Cas said, āYouāre welcome to stay here.ā Then, he unceremoniously got out and headed toward the house.Ā
Ā
Dean looked at Sam, who huffed a laugh and got up to follow Cas.Ā
_
Ā
They got pizza for dinner; Cas couldnāt recommend any places in the area other than Garyās so it seemed like the best option.Ā
Ā
Cas vetoed any fun movies, at least until Jack had gone to sleep for the night, so they were stuck watching some Disney Dean had never seen. Dean had made an argument for James the Giant Peach but the suggestion was shut down because it was too ācreepyā. Samās proposal of Chicken Run had gotten a brief moment of consideration from Cas, which Dean assumed was Cas checking his mental catalogue of pop culture courtesy of Metatron because he refused to believe that the guy had watched Chicken Run but still hadnāt seen Wrath of Khan.Ā
Ā
It wasnāt long after the movie ended that Cas started putting Jack to bed. He paused by Dean and Sam on his way back to the nursery.Ā
Ā
āSay goodnight, Jack,ā he said. Jack blinked sleepily up at them, yawning with a little squeak.Ā
Ā
Dean wasnāt sure what to say, so he settled on a wave, wincing as he did so. Sam was no better; his aborted hug turned into a pat on Jackās head. Neither Jack nor Cas seemed to mind, both seeming pleased enough as they toddled away.Ā
Ā
āYouāre so awkward,ā Sam muttered.
Ā
āShut up,ā Dean said.
Ā
Kid in bed meant the good stuff could come out; they still ended up watching Finding Nemo.Ā
Ā
āThis movie sucks ass,ā Dean complained.Ā
Ā
āI like it,ā Cas said, mildly, tucked carefully into the rocking chair heād pulled into the room from the nursery. Dean sighed and settled down to watch.Ā
Ā
Dean was beat when the credits finally rolled, his eyes barely staying open. Sam seemed in the same boat, slumping over beside him on the couch.Ā
Ā
āYou got a bed around here?ā Dean asked.Ā
Ā
āNo, I didnāt see the point,ā Cas said. āYouāll have to share the couch. It pulls out.āĀ
Ā
Dean groaned internally, heaving himself up to help Cas pull out the futon while Sam grabbed some blankets from the closet. He hadnāt shared with Sam in a long time, not since Dad was still around, and that was back before Sam cracked six feet. Tonight was not going to be comfortable.Ā Ā
Ā
Somehow, the two of them managed to cram themselves onto the thing. It creaked under their weight and Samās feet stuck over the edge unless he tucked himself into a fetal position, which left Dean squeezed out to the edge of the mattress. He figured itād take him a while to fall asleep but he blinked one minute and was gone the next.Ā
Ā
He woke up suddenly sometime in the night. He stared around in confusion, wondering what woke him, until Sam kicked him again.Ā
Ā
āSam,ā he grumbled, shoving him. Sam, clearly still asleep, grunted and rolled away.Ā
Ā
Dean blinked blearily around the room, pitch black except for the nightlight in the hall and the dim moonlight shining in through the window. He froze when he saw a figure by the window.Ā
Ā
It was just Cas, he realized, even as his heart rate rose from fright. He was sitting in the rocking chair next to the window, moonlight just illuminating his silhouette. Dean could just spot a book open in his hands.Ā
Ā
āGo to sleep, Dean,ā Cas said softly, and Dean did.Ā
Ā
Dean woke with a jolt in the morning, the breath driven from his lungs by a sudden weight. He opened his eyes to see an up-close view of Jack, with Samās grinning face swimming above him. Jack was fully sitting on his chest, smiling and babbling.Ā
Ā
āGood morning, sleepyhead,ā Sam said.Ā
Ā
āI canāt breathe,ā Dean said, glaring up at Sam.Ā
Ā
Sam snorted. āHeās not that heavy.āĀ
Ā
Jack let out a shriek of delight and clapped his hands to Deanās cheeks. Images flashed suddenly before his eyes: a man heād never seen before with a scar on his face, Sam shooting a gun, and Cas, Cas everywhere āsmiling underneath the stained glass in the kitchen, yelling something incomprehensible with firelight dancing on his face, snarling with a blade in hand, staring down at him teary eyed, and staring up at him beside a pond, a peaceful smile on his face, his hand in Deanās. And underneath it all, a feeling of love so staggering, pure and uncomplicated, that Dean could only remember feeling as a child before Mom died.Ā
Ā
Dean gasped at the touch of a palm on his face. He was again in the living room of Casā house, sitting up on the futon. Cas was beside him, a hand against Deanās cheek.Ā
Ā
āDean?ā he asked, āare you alright?āĀ
Ā
Dean nodded, his eyes jumping around the room. Sam was standing a few feet away, holding Jack. Deanās eyes rested on the kid; he was staring at Dean with his head cocked to the side. His face was far too serious for a baby.Ā
Ā
āWhat happened?ā Dean asked.Ā
Ā
āI donāt know,ā Sam said, concerned, āyou just spaced out. You sure youāre okay?āĀ
Ā
Dean looked at Jack again. Those images, theyād seemed so real, like Dean was really there. He could still hear the crack of the gun, feel the heat of the flames, the skin of Casā hand. Could it be ā
Ā
Dean shook himself, making himself grin up at Sam and Cas. āNothing, just had a weird dream. You got coffee?āĀ
Ā
Dean didnāt let them stay much longer after that, making the requisite noises about getting started early to avoid traffic, how long a drive it was. Both Sam and Cas were throwing him looks full of barely-concealed concern but they were kind enough not to bring it up.Ā
Ā
āThanks for letting us stay, Cas,ā Sam said as they walked out.Ā
Ā
Cas smiled at them both. āOf course.ā Jack waved from his position in Casā arms; the seriousness of his expression had faded over the course of the morning. He looked completely normal again, drooly and pleased.Ā
Ā
Dean looked at them, one last time, as he pulled out of the driveway. Cas and Jack were framed in the doorway; Cas lifted a hand in a wave, meeting Deanās eyes, and then they were gone as Dean drove away.Ā
Ā
āThat was nice,ā Sam said.
Ā
āHm,ā Dean said and stayed silent for the next fifty miles.Ā
Ā
_
Ā
Dean didnāt mean to come back.
Ā
He and Sam had made the long haul back to the bunker and it wasnāt long before they picked up another hunt. Theyād met up with Mom on the way, finally wrapping it all up in New England, and sheād joined them. For a little while, things had felt good.Ā
Ā
Dean let himself get distracted by the life, the routine of hunting so deeply ingrained in his bones he could do it on autopilot. It was a comfort in some ways; no matter what else was going on, he could always count on hunting some monster down to take him out of his head.Ā
Ā
The problem was, there wasnāt always something to do.Ā
Ā
As usual, Sam had done his job almost too well. Organizing the hunters to take out the Men of Letters had changed things. People seemed more coordinated in general now; people kept in touch or got in touch, even people Dean had never heard of before, phone numbers passed on from friends of friends. A lot of the time, it was easier to delegate than drive twelve hours themselves ā no sooner would Dean find something that looked like a case than Sam knew someone nearby who could take it.Ā
Ā
Maybe it was just them who had changed; Dad had never been the most talkative guy and Dean knew that he often rubbed people the wrong way. The only hunters heād known growing up were the people who Dad hadnāt managed to piss off. Hell, even Bobby had been more personable than Dad and that wasnāt saying much. But since Mom came back, since the Men of Letters, it seemed like this whole new world had opened up. A hunting community that theyād only ever caught glimpses of at the Roadhouse but never really been a part of.Ā
Ā
All that seemed to be left for Dean to handle were the ghosts. Nothing difficult or interesting, nothing like a bucket list item like Whaley House or the Winchester Mystery House. Just run of the mill hauntings, sad or scared people clinging to the life they no longer had and unable to move on, slowly turning angry and mean. And here Dean was, digging them up and putting them to rest, just like heād been doing when he was a teen.Ā
Ā
The latest one brought him to the border of Nevada and California, near Fallon. Heād been driving up from another ghost in Crystal Springs when heād spotted the mention in the local paper of a guy who said heād been chased out of his house by an intruder, only for the gossip-y waiter to lean over his shoulder and loudly whisper that it was the guyās dead wife, apparently. Itād barely taken half the night to button it up.Ā
Ā
Which didnāt explain why Dean was pulling up outside Casā house the next morning.Ā
Ā
It was still early and the neighbourhood hadnāt quite woken up yet. A quick check of his watch showed that it was actually Saturday, which partially explained the empty streets.Ā
Ā
Dean pulled into the driveway, wondering why he was doing this at all. He should be heading home now, hitting the long road between here and Kansas; instead he was sitting in Casā driveway, questioning his life choices.Ā
Ā
He didnāt have anything to show for himself this time ā he couldnāt exactly remember deciding to go to Casā but heād known somehow that if he stopped anywhere on the way, chances were that heād take the turn towards the highway instead and be in the next state over before he stopped. Even now, he could barely make himself get out of the car.Ā
Ā
Itās not like Dean had forgotten about Cas or the kid. Outside witchcraft, he didnāt think there was any way he could ever forget about Cas. Every quiet moment, heād found his mind turning back to this place; the house, Casā face, even the kid. Inevitably, heād find something that reminded him of Cas in every place he went: an ugly yellow car on the street, an unseasonable raincoat, a warm smile on a scruffy face, a man bent over his child.Ā
Ā
And he couldnāt forget those images heād seen that morning before theyād left. Theyād all run together in Deanās mind, getting more and more jumbled as time passed. He couldnāt really pick out specifics anymore but it had left him with a sense of urgency, of unfinished business. He remembered what Cas had said, that Jack had shown him visions of peace in the future and that was part of the reason Cas had chosen to run away with him. It left him wondering now āhad Jack shown him all the future? And if so, why?Ā
Ā
Dean ran out of steam and courage as he reached the front porch; he slumped down on the stairs, watching the sun track across the street. The curtains of the house across from him twitched to the side, some nosy neighbor peeking out hurriedly. Seemed like Casā neighbors didnāt take kindly to the rumbling of a loud engine at 8 in the morning on a Saturday.Ā
Ā
Dean sat for about five minutes, enjoying the quiet of the street, before the door behind him creaked open. Cas stepped out, wrapped in a fluffy blue bathrobe and looking at him curiously.Ā
Ā
āDean, what are you doing here?ā he asked.Ā
Ā
āI just āā Dean sighed, looking down at the porch so he wouldnāt have to look into Casā eyes. Casā feet were bare; Dean didnāt think heād ever seen him without shoes before. āI donāt really know, man.ā
Ā Ā
Cas didnāt say anything. After a long moment, during which Deanās stomach roiled, Cas came to sit beside him on the step. Dean could just see him out of the corner of his eye, knees propped up and hands folded together. He could tell Casā face was angled toward him, watching Dean, before he turned to face the street.Ā
Ā
āWhatever the reason,ā Cas said, āIām glad to see you.ā
Ā
They sat in silence for a little bit. The neighborhood was starting to wake up around them; Dean could hear doors opening and closing and a jogger ran past with their dog. Birds were tweeting in the trees around them, a particularly loud crow somewhere nearby cawing incessantly. Cas didnāt seem affected by any of it, seemingly content to sit beside Dean and absorb it all.Ā
Ā
Finally, Cas asked, āWhat were you doing, before?āĀ
Ā
āHunting,ā Dean said, āI was down south then found a ghost on my way home.ā
Ā
āAnd then you came here.ā
Ā
Dean sighed, looking down at his hands. āYeah. I came here.ā Though god knew why. Dean still couldnāt make it make sense to himself. He snuck a glance at Cas; he was still staring out into the street, a distant look in his eyes.Ā
Ā
āDean, I never want you to feel unwelcome anywhere I am.ā Cas hesitated, reluctance heavy in his tone. He looked at Dean and managed to catch Deanās eyes before Dean could look away. āBut thereās a reason I stayed away.ā
Ā
Dean felt his chest go a bit tight. āEnlighten me.ā
Ā
Cas sighed. āI told you it wasnāt safe, not for Jack. Iāve warded this place as best I can, but thereās still danger out there. Things that would gladly take Jack and use him for their own purposes.ā
Ā
Dean looked down at the ground, unable to keep meeting Casā eyes. āSo, what, you think Iām putting him in danger?ā
Ā
Dean could see Casā hands tighten their grip on each other before relaxing. āThatās not what I meant. I meant that, because of what Jack is, danger will follow him. Itās an unfortunate aspect of his life. Iād like to protect you from that.ā
Ā
Dean made himself look at Cas. The sun was starting to beat down now, that California early summer heat beginning to gather in the air. It streamed across Casā face, highlighting all the fine lights on his face; it made him look tired and a bit lost.Ā
Ā
āThatās not your job, man,ā Dean said, āyouāre not supposed to protect me.ā
Ā
Casā expression turned wry, something warm in his eyes. āWhy, because thatās your job?ā
Ā
Dean frowned at him, unsure what to say. Because Cas was right, it was his job, had been since he was a kid. Protect his family and take out the ghost. Protect his family and save those civilians. Protect his family and find the money for the weekās rent. But always, always, protect his family.Ā Ā
Ā
Cas continued to look at him, sympathy in his eyes. āDean, youāve spent your whole life trying to protect people. Sam, your family, everyone. Please donāt stop me from repaying the favor.ā
Ā
The word rubbed Dean the wrong way.Ā
Ā
āItās not a favor, man, itās ā ā what he was supposed to do. He wasnāt doing anyone a favor, he didnāt really even expect gratitude. It was just a job, messy and hard, just like anyone elseās.Ā
Ā
He thought there was something noble in hunting when he was younger. That it made him a hero, to risk his life for others, to put the nasty creeps in the dark down. Now, he knew it was harder than that, more complex. Sometimes the monster wasnāt the thing with fangs. But hopefully, at the end of it all, it meant something and he helped more than he hurt. A net positive, or whatever. That would make it all worth it.Ā
Ā
āNot a favor, then.ā Cas hesitated. āYouāve said weāre friends. Family. You protect your family.ā Cas paused, as if waiting for Dean to understand without him having to say anything else.Ā
Ā
And Dean did, he knew what Cas was trying to say. It just pissed him off a little, a flare of anger washing over his anxiety.Ā
Ā
Dean shook his head, looking back out at the street. āDude, donāt turn it back around on me. Saying you left me ā us, you left us, because of us? To protect us? Thatās why you left me and Sam unconscious in the sand, to keep us safe? You know that doesnāt make sense.āĀ Ā
Ā
āDean, Iāā Cas sighed. āI know I hurt you. And Iām sorry for that, I truly am. I never want to hurt you.āĀ
Ā
āWell, you always seem to do it,ā Dean muttered and immediately wanted to take it back.Ā
Cas flinched away, clenching his jaw and looking out across the road. He didnāt protest, didnāt say that wasnāt fair. He never did, never bothered to try to defend himself when Dean ran his mouth and said shit like that, even when Dean knew he was doing it just to hurt Cas back. A lot of time, it made Dean mad, as if Cas cared so little he wouldnāt even bother to fight back. Now, it just made him sad and ashamed.Ā
Ā
Dean swallowed, cleared his throat, but the apology wouldnāt come out. āWere you just gonna stay gone forever? Were you ever gonna come back?āĀ
Ā
Cas was looking away from him now, staring determinedly across the street. āI couldnāt. Not if I wanted to keep Jack, keep you, all of you, safe.āĀ
Ā
Dean sighed, slumped forward over his knees. āSo, Iām just supposed to pretend I never saw you, huh? Leave you to this and go back to my life.ā He snorted a bitter laugh. āGotta say, this is not how Iād thought this would end.āĀ
Ā
Cas finally looked back at him, something curious in his eyes. āHow did you think it would end?ā
Ā
Bloody , Dean thought. Violent . Dean never expected heād go out any other way. But heād hoped for more, for Sam, for Cas. Maybe Sam could slow down a little, have a life. Maybe not the apple pie life, but a life. And hell, Cas was immortal, at least when he wasnāt hanging around with Winchesters. He could live forever. Dean wasnāt completely certain what heād doāhe couldnāt imagine Cas going back to Heaven now, not forever, even if theyād ever bend enough to let him back in. But heād be alive long after Dean was gone; thatās all that really mattered to Dean.Ā
Ā
āI donāt know,ā Dean said. āNot this.ā
Ā
Cas sighed, too, mirroring Deanās posture. āI know this isnāt what you expected, Dean. But Iāve found, in the past few years, that things hardly ever turn out how we expect them to.ā
Ā
Dean huffed a laugh, staring down at the ground. āYou got a point.ā
Ā
They sat in silence for a bit longer. Dean let himself enjoy it; the birds, the sounds of people waking up around them, Casā quiet breaths. He'd likely never be back this way again. Never see Cas again. It hurt like a bitch, but if thatās how it had to be, thatās how it had to be. Dean wasnāt gonna whine about it.Ā
Ā
āI am truly sorry, Dean,ā Cas said eventually, āI know it may not always seem like it, but I don't actually enjoy fighting with you.ā
Ā
āYeah, me neither,ā Dean said with a laugh. He bumped Cas with his shoulder; Cas looked up at him long enough for them to exchange smiling glances.Ā
Ā
The neighborhood was truly coming to life now. A minivan drove by, a pack of kids stuffed in the back and a clearly already stressed mom driving. Some guy in crocs and a dressing gown was out watering his flowers. Someone walked by with their dog, waving genially at them as they went. Dean could hear a lawnmower starting up in the distance.Ā
Ā
It was like stepping into TV Land or a dream. Nowhere Dean belonged.Ā
Ā
āGuess I should head out, then.ā Dean stood slowly, brushing off his jeans. His knees protested after so long bent in one position.Ā
Ā
āDean,ā Cas said. Dean turned to see Cas looking at him with a stricken expression.Ā
Ā
āWhat?āĀ
Ā
āI ā ā Cas stopped himself, staring at Dean for a long moment. Dean was about to say something when he seemed to reach a decision. āWould you like to come in? Just for a little while.āĀ
Ā
Dean looked at him, considering. āThought you said that wasnāt a good idea, me staying.ā
Ā
āJust for a little while,ā Cas said again. āI know Jack would be pleased.ā
Ā
And there was a whole other problem. The kid. Dean liked him well enough, he thought. He was cute and he seemed sweet, endearing in the way all babies were. But seeing Cas with him, it did something to Dean. Something as simple as Cas holding or feeding Jack could be like staring into the sun. Dean found himself constantly having to look away, his chest tight with a feeling he couldnāt work out. He wasnāt sure how much of that he could take.Ā
Ā
But Dean didnāt want to leave, he could at least admit that to himself. He wanted to stay, to see Cas, to talk with him, just fucking sit silently next to him. Even just for a little bit.Ā
Ā
āYeah, okay.ā
Ā
Cas seemed relieved, a smile spreading across his face.Ā
Ā
āOkay.ā
Ā
And they went inside.
Ā
_
Ā
There were many times that Dean had wished for the opportunity to just hang out with Cas. Theyād managed it before, squeezing it in between apocalypses and personal crises, but theyād so rarely had time to spend time together for the simple sake of spending time together. Heād missed it.Ā
Ā
Of course, it was different with Jack there. Dean had never had much cause to be around babies. Hell, heād never spent much time with kids in general and the ones he had were at least old enough to hold a conversation. Jack was an expressive baby, which meant a lot of staring, babbling, or shrieking, but you couldnāt exactly hold a conversation with him yet. That didnāt stop Cas, though; he responded to any sound Jack made as if it was a fully formed sentence, absolutely in tune with Jackās needs. Dean had to wonder if something was going on there, if Jack was using images to communicate with Cas, if he could do that even without a touch.Ā
Ā
Because he knew that vision, or whatever it was, had to have come from Jack. Heād known it as soon as he walked into the kitchen and saw the light coming in from the stained glass window, illuminating Cas at the coffee machine. The lighting, the look on Casā face āit was all the same as heād seen in the vision. He shot a glance at Jack, sitting in his high chair with a toy, and saw Jack already watching him, something Dean would call curiosity on his face.Ā Ā
Ā
āDean?ā Cas asked. He was suddenly standing next to Dean, holding out a mug of coffee.Ā
Ā
āThanks,ā Dean said, shoving down his apprehension. He took a swig of the coffee. It somehow tasted exactly the same as the stuff from Garyās; thick tar that Dean choked down with a rough swallow.Ā
Ā
āThatās vile,ā Dean said.Ā
Ā
āSorry,ā Cas replied with a wince.Ā
Ā
Dean shrugged and took another swallow. Caffeine was caffeine, even if it tasted like Cas was trying to poison him.Ā
Ā
Dean spent most of the day chatting with Cas or watching Cas with Jack. Heād forgotten how needy babies were, all these years after Sam had grown. Dean remembered going through the same motions with him āthe feedings, keeping him occupied, playing, putting him down for naps, bathing. It was a full-time job, but one Cas seemed to have mastered. He didnāt ask Dean for help, maybe picking up on some of Deanās discomfort, but he shot him glances every now and then, as if wanting to make sure Dean was still there.Ā
Ā
Dean watched Cas get up to put Jack down for a nap and wondered how the hell heād done any of this with Sam when theyād been young. The fact that Sam had made it out of toddlerhood in good health was a fucking miracle.Ā
Ā
Dean wandered around the living room, waiting for Cas to come back. The space was still mostly empty, bare aside from the playpen, the couch, the TV, and Jackās toys strewn around the floor. Dean hesitated, glancing over his shoulder down the hall. He could faintly hear Casā voice coming from the other room, speaking in that reasonable tone he used when trying to convince Jack to do something he wasnāt sure he wanted to do. The kid must not want to sleep. Cas had the right idea, though; heād be a nightmare later if he didnāt get some sleep now.Ā
Ā
Dean turned back to the toys, quietly picking them up and placing them in the toy trunk in the corner. With that cleaned up, the room looked even more spartan. It could pass as a show home, if the realtor had decided to fill it with furniture they found on the side of the road instead of some nice stuff.Ā
Ā
He wandered a little bit, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he poked around. The only thing that caught his eye were the few photos on the mantelpiece above the fake fireplace. Dean paused next to them, looking them over. Claire was posed in one frame, mugging it up for the camera, clearly a selfie sheād sent Cas at one point. Dean stuttered to a stop at the next one, grabbing it. It was the photo of all of them with Ellen, Jo, and Bobby from the first apocalypse, right before their failed attempt to kill the devil and Ellen and Joās deaths. Dean stared at it. Theyād all looked so young back then; Jo and Sam had still just been kids. His eyes lingered on Jo and Ellen, jumping over to Bobby. He wished he could remember them like this ā not happy, exactly, but determined, purposeful ā instead of how theyād been at the end.Ā
Ā
āWe finally got him in the end,ā Dean murmured, dragging his fingers across their faces. He sighed and put the photo back down.Ā
Ā
The next photo was equally as surprising because Dean recognized it; not just the picture, but the frame as well. Heād seen it just a few weeks ago on a shelf in Samās room.Ā
Ā
Theyād taken it about six months ago, right around Christmas time, when all four of them ā Mom, Dean, Sam, and Eileen ā had ended up in one place by accident. Dean had spent the weekend with Mom tracking down a rawhide in Brooklyn, Michigan and been heading back to the bunker when a snow storm hit, forcing them to pull off and get a room at a shitty motel. Somehow, in the type of innocuous miracle that usually never happened to Dean, it was the same motel Sam and Eileen had been staying in, coming back from their own hunt.Ā
Ā
Theyād spent the night holed up together in a room, passing around shitty beers and pizza, watching crappy holiday movies on TV. Sam had snapped a photo at some point before the power had cut out. Sam was in the foreground, his arm around Mom, both of them cheesing it up for the camera. Behind them, Dean could see himself and Eileen huddled together on one of the beds. Eileen had been teaching him how to swear in sign language, he remembered.Ā
Ā
Sam must have come back for another visit, he realized. No other way this exact photo had made it here.Ā
Ā
āItās a lovely photo,ā Cas said from behind Dean. Dean jumped a little, turning to face him; heād come back in so quietly that Dean hadnāt heard him.Ā
Ā
āYeah, it was a good night,ā Dean said, distractedly putting the frame back on the mantelpiece. āSam come by often?āĀ
Ā
āA few times,ā Cas said. āHe and Jack have a...connection. I believe Sam empathizes with Jackās position.āĀ Ā
Ā
Dean remembered that day at the beach; he could get how Sam would feel empathetic toward a kid who lost his mom as a baby and who was born with abilities from a source of evil. It wasnāt quite Samās own story but it was close enough. It made sense Sam would want to visit the kid, see how he was.
Ā
He and Sam hadnāt talked about Cas or Jack since that day. Dean figured it was Sam trying to be kind; heād noticed how quiet Dean had been on the drive back and had left him alone about it. He wondered when Sam had decided to come back and why he hadnāt said anything to Dean about it. He wondered if Sam had gotten the same talk about it not being safe to visit.Ā
Ā
He didnāt ask Cas about it, just in case the answer was no.Ā
Ā
The last photo was larger than the others, portrait size. It was a headshot of Kelly, smiling into the camera. It was recent, Dean thought, probably taken around the time that heād met her. He honestly didnāt remember her very well; theyād only met a couple of times and thereād been a lot going on each time. Looking at the photo now, he realized that Jack had her eyes.Ā
Ā
Cas reached forward and carefully picked up the photo. He cradled it gently in his hand.Ā
Ā
āWe took this at the cabin up in Washington,ā he said, āwe wanted something for Jack to remember her by.āĀ
Ā
Dean remembered that place, the cabin by the water. Theyād searched the house and the property from top to bottom. He remembered the mural in the bedroom upstairs, clearly meant to be a nursery, filled with scattered baby supplies and a half built crib. The cabin had been dusty, a little shabby, but nothing a little TLC wouldnāt have fixed.Ā
Ā
āIt was a nice place,ā Dean said. āI can see why you guys picked it.āĀ
Ā
Cas smiled sadly. He was still looking at the photo. āKelly liked it. She felt at peace there. I thought if there was any place to raise her son, to ā ā he glanced quickly at Dean before looking away, āto let her rest, it was there.ā He stroked his thumb over Kellyās face before replacing the frame.
Ā
A piece of a puzzle Dean hadnāt even known he was trying to solve dropped into place. Of course, of course that was it. It explained so much, so many of the unanswered questions that Dean hadnāt wanted to ask. Why Cas had gone off with Kelly in the first place, why he was here with Jack now, even why there was an underlying current of sadness in his eyes.Ā
Ā
Cas had fallen in love with Kelly, some kind of love at first sight thing. Dean remembered barging into the motel room theyād been shut away together in and for the first time he wondered what heād been interrupting. He remembered how Kelly had stuck close to Cas, how sheād held his hand at the park, how Cas had placed himself determinedly between her and Dagon. He remembered, unwillingly, a part of him shying away from it, how the cabin had had only one bed. A fact that didnāt necessarily mean anything, considering Cas was an angel who didnāt need to sleep. But, looking at it from where Dean stood now, it was just another part of a larger pattern.
Ā
Dean swallowed, studying the photo. She really was beautiful; sheād seemed kind, from what Dean could remember. He hadnāt known her well but from what heād seen, he could understand why Cas would have fallen for her.Ā
Ā
āShe seemed really nice,ā Dean said, āIām sorry.āĀ
Ā
Casā gaze came back up to him; his lips quirked in a soft smile, barely there. āThank you.āĀ
Ā
Dean said his goodbyes shortly after, staying just long enough for Jack to wake from his nap on Casā insistence. Jack had still been blinking sleepily in Casā arms when Dean walked out the door, blearily waving goodbye when Cas told him to. The two of them saw him off from the porch, Cas holding Jack up so they could both watch Dean pull away.
Ā
Dean found a hunt on his way out east; some vamps living it up in Vegas, gambling and blood-sucking the night away. It was the kind of case that Dean would usually live for but he hadnāt been able to muster up any kind of enthusiasm for it, his mind turning to that little house in California over and over, like a loose tooth.Ā
Ā
Cas had fallen in love, something Dean hadnāt even known he could do. Dean hadnāt even figured that Cas could feel that kind of love; heād spent so many years experiencing every other emotion under the sun, Dean had figured heād given that one a pass. But here he was, love turned to grief after only a few short weeks.Ā
Ā
Maybe this had been there along and Dean had just missed it. Maybe Cas had come around to the idea of a happy life: a house, 2.5 kids, a dog, a wife. Heād sure pursued it eagerly enough after Kelly came into the picture; how long had he been wanting that secretly, never mentioning it?Ā
Ā
And he suited it, was the thing. Dean could see how well he fit into that house, how heād adjusted his life to fit around Jack and his needs. Cas seemed content, pleased to bring a smile to Jackās face by reading him a story or feeding him a snack or passing him a toy. He loved that kid, Dean could see it, loved him with a passion that was staggering, clear as the sky was blue.Ā
Ā
Dean finished the hunt, slicing the last few vamps with extra viciousness. He slumped in the car afterward, bloody and tired, leaning across the seat with a sigh.Ā
Ā
He shouldnāt be so fucking surprised by this. The signs had all been there, heād just been too blind to see them. Or maybe he had seen them; he just hadnāt wanted to understand them.Ā
Ā
Because heād thought about it, hadnāt he. He and Cas in a little house with white siding, maybe a wrap-around porch. Sitting outside with Cas at night, watching the stars, Cas droning on about the constellations while Dean tried not to fall asleep. Making dinner in their kitchen, Cas patiently trying every dish Dean made. And going to their bed, the one they shared, at night, sleeping the whole night through in Casā arms.Ā
Ā
Dean had lost track of the number of times heād had to imagine just that, Cas next to him in the dark, his arms around Deanās waist, just to be able to fall asleep at night.Ā
Ā
Heād told himself it wasnāt possible, that he and Cas didnāt want the same things. It had been easier to think that Cas just didnāt feel love like that, than to acknowledge that Cas didnāt feel love like that for Dean. Dean couldnāt miss what he never had a chance of having.Ā
Ā
It was all moot, anyway. Dean knew he didnāt suit that life, the life of a civilian. Heād tried it once, with Lisa and Ben, taking advantage of their kindness to shove his way into their lives. All it had led to was destruction and pain. And heād figured it wouldnāt matter anyway, the fact that Dean couldnāt have that life. After all, Cas couldnāt have it either, too strange and alien to do so. If neither of them fit, at least they didnāt fit together, equally alike in their abnormality. He should have known Cas would succeed where Dean had failed.Ā
Ā
Dean heaved himself up from the seat and went to get a room for the night. He told himself heād drive back to the bunker in the morning when he didnāt feel like death. So he didnāt have an excuse when he turned west instead of east, heading determinedly back to California.Ā Ā
Ā
The door was open when Dean arrived, Cas and Jack out on the porch. Cas didnāt seem surprised to see him, smiling at him while Jack waved.Ā
_
Ā
It was the beginning of a routine that Dean didnāt quite understand. Cas had told him that it wasnāt safe for Jack, for Dean, for anyone, if he visited. And sure, Cas had made some mistakes over the years, same as any of them, but he wasnāt usually cautious without good reason. Hell, Cas wasnāt usually cautious at all, throwing himself wholeheartedly into things that would give even Dean pause. So Dean knew there was a reason for it now.Ā
Ā
But he missed Cas, whenever he was on a hunt. And more and more, he missed Jack too.Ā
The kid had grown on him surprisingly quickly. Dean still felt awkward around him but he was getting used to it; it didnāt take him by surprise anymore when Jack looked at him intently and Dean got a sudden desire to put on Peppa Pig or eat some banana. He was content to stay on the periphery, watching as Cas took care of Jack. Dean was happy to help make the food if Cas fed the kid. He could pick up the toys that Jack tossed and give them back but if the tears started to come in, that was Casā job. Dean knew what he could do and what he couldnāt and Cas seemed happy enough to toe that line.Ā
Ā
Most of the time, Jack just wanted Cas anyway. The kid seemed to get looser with his control when he was sleepy and when it got close to nap time Dean would find his mind dancing with images of Cas, larger than life and glowing, until Cas picked Jack up to take him to the nursery.Ā
Ā
It was when Jack would get quiet that Dean was most uncomfortable. Sometimes, the kid would just go sad and Dean would feel the growing urge to call Mom and check in, along with an itch under his skin. Cas would gather Jack up into a big hug in those moments, coming to sit next to Dean on the couch.Ā
Ā
āHe misses his mother,ā Cas told him after one of those moments, looking unspeakably sad.Ā
Ā
Dean dared to reach out, during one of those moments, gently running his fingers through Jackās hair. It was the first time Dean had touched him since that morning with the visions. He wasnāt sure if it helped, but Jack sighed and settled deeper into Casā chest.Ā
Ā
āIām sorry, kid,ā Dean said, his heart twisting in his chest. He wasnāt sure if it was his imagination that the mood in the house lightened a little quicker that day.Ā
Ā
Dean wasnāt really sure what he was doing, coming and going, a transient presence in their lives. Jack always seemed excited to see him, Cas quietly pleased beside him. Cas didnāt bring up Dean leaving again, past that first day, though sometimes heād look at Dean, something a little considering, a little wary, in his face. But he never said anything so Dean decided to take what he could get before Cas realized the mistake he was making.Ā
Ā
_
āYou feel like a werewolf, a rawhead, or a revenant?ā Sam asked as soon as Dean walked into the war room. He was annoyingly awake.Ā
Ā
Dean rubbed his sleep-bleary eyes. He hadnāt seen Sam much in the past few weeks. Theyād taken advantage of being in the bunker at the same time to stay up late catching up on the latest season of The Walking Dead. Dean had crawled into bed sometime after 1, still broken up over Glenn.Ā
Ā
āDude, did you sleep?āĀ
Ā
āYeah,ā Sam said, slowly. āDean, itās almost noon.āĀ
Ā
Dean grunted, sitting at the table and hunching over his coffee, slurping it down with desperation. Sam snorted.Ā
Ā
āYou want me to leave you two alone together?ā he asked with a laugh.Ā
Ā
āShut up, Sam,ā he muttered and took another loud sip.Ā
Ā
āWerewolf,ā Dean said after a moment. āFull moonās soon.ā And it had been weeks since heād gotten to do anything that wasnāt a ghost.Ā
Ā
āThen youāre heading to Colorado Springs,ā Sam said, āhave fun.āĀ
Ā
Colorado Springs wasnāt too far. If he left soon he could hit town around nightfall and do some poking around. There was still about a week before the full moon; heād probably just be able to button it up in time.Ā
Ā
And then heād already be heading east. He could just keep pushing on, heading out further and further until he hit the ocean.Ā
Ā
āYou gonna see Cas after?ā Sam asked, apparently having developed the ability to read minds sometime in the night.Ā Ā
Ā
Deanās eyes snapped to him; he wasnāt even looking at Dean, seemingly totally absorbed in his laptop. āWhat?āĀ
Ā
Sam snorted, glancing up at him. āDude, youāre not subtle.āĀ
Ā
āI ā look, I donāt know. Maybe,ā Dean said. He wasnāt sure how heād given himself away; they still hadnāt talked about Cas and Jack, although Dean knew Sam had been by again and Sam must know the same about him. He felt uncomfortably exposed, having it dragged into the light.Ā
Ā
He knew what he was doing wasnāt right. It wasnāt right for him to use Cas āand increasingly, Jackāas some stop gap or fix. He knew he wouldnāt have the normal life heād wanted and heād made his peace with that. He knew he wouldnāt grow old with Cas beside him and heād made his peace with that, too. But everytime he went to see them, he could pretend that he could have it all, for at least a few hours, before he returned to reality. He could look at Cas and let himself, for a few minutes at a time, just the tiniest sliver of time, that Cas could be his.Ā
Ā
It was terrible, wishing for that with Cas while Cas was clearly still grieving Kelly. Everytime he did it, he worried that Cas would see, somehow. If he did, that would be the end of it, Dean knew that. Either Cas wouldnāt let him come back or Dean would stop coming, too ashamed to look Cas in the eye or be anywhere near Jack.Ā
Ā
As more time went on though, the more Dean knew: he wouldnāt be able to stop himself from coming back, no matter how ashamed he felt. Cas would have to make him go.Ā
Ā
But Sam didnāt seem interested in having a heart to heart about any of it. He simply threw Dean an amused look and said, āWell, if you do, tell him I said hi. And give Jack a hug for me. Oh, and tell Cas I checked out that podcast he mentioned and it was really good.āĀ
Ā
āUh, yeah, sure.ā As if Dean was going to encourage their dorky podcast hobby. Cas had gone on and on about some podcast episode about bees; Dean had listened to him because he was a sap, but heād definitely caught Jack nodding off. āYāknow, you could just tell him yourself.āĀ
Ā
Sam grinned at him. āYeah, I will.āĀ
Ā
Dean snorted and took an exaggerated slurp of his coffee, just for the joy of seeing Sam shudder.Ā
_
Ā
When Dean pulled into the driveway, he could see Jack and Cas on the small front porch. Cas was sitting on the front step, looking very human in his casual clothes, sprawled with one knee up on the front step. Dean could just see Jack past him, toddling slowly around the front porch from railing to railing. Both of their heads perked up with the approach of the engine and Dean could just see Jack flailing his arms. As soon as he got out of the car, he could hear Jackās excited babbling, not yet forming into recognizable words. Cas responded to it anyway, saying āYes, Deanās here.āĀ
Ā
Jack shrieked loudly enough it scared a bird in the giant tree by the road. Dean bit down on the automatic smile; he waved as he approached the porch, a grin breaking out when Jack waved back so hard Cas had to catch him so he didnāt fall over.Ā
Ā
āHey, Cas.ā Dean said.Ā
Ā
Cas smiled at him, that gummy one Dean secretly always wanted to see, wide enough that his eyes crinkled. It always hit Dean in the gut, making him breathless, every time Cas welcomed him so easily. Dean was the interloper here, he was the one who didnāt belong, trying to force himself into a spot he didnāt fit. But Cas never treated him like that, always appearing happy to see Dean. āHello, Dean.āĀ
Ā
āHey, kid,ā Dean said to Jack, settling beside Cas on the front step, leaning back on the railing. The box of muffins heād brought went beside him, nestled against his hip.Ā
Ā
Jack waved at him frantically, toddling over and semi-falling against Deanās shoulder. Dean brought up a hand, pressing it against Jackās back to keep him steady. As always, a little lump formed in Deanās throat at the warm press of that tiny body against his.Ā
Ā
āCareful, kid. I know youāre the most powerful baby ever but I bet falling down still sucks,ā he said.Ā
Ā
Jack giggled against him and Dean could feel the kidās emotions start to seep into him through the tough. He was happy, blisteringly happy. To be outside, to see the birds jumping around in the front yard, to have Cas close, to see the Impala, even, but mostly to see Dean. There was that familiar moment of dual sensation, Dean both within and outside his body at the same time. Within his body, he could feel how this jacket was a little tight around his shoulders, could feel the uncomfortable clammy sweat building up on his skin. But he could also feel his soft little hands pressing against the hard cloth of Deanās jacket, little fingers running along the mend Dean had put in the arm of it last week when the werewolf had taken a swipe at him.Ā
Ā
He felt safe and happy. In the end, Dean wasnāt certain if those were Jackās feelings or his own.Ā
Ā
He looked back up at Cas, who was watching them with a soft smile, a smile which grew when he caught Deanās eyes.Ā
Ā
Maybe it was both him and Jack. And maybe that was fine.Ā
_
Ā
They spent the afternoon out there, Dean slowly baking under the California sun and talking with Cas about nothing at all. This little porch on this particular afternoon felt like an oasis. It didnāt feel right to bring up any of the hunts Dean had been on recently or to wade into any painful territory. Cas seemed genuinely happy for once, that sad undertone missing from his smile. So Dean talked about about the dumb action movie he and Mom had seen recently, about the long-ass book he was reading, ribbed Cas for gossip about the neighbours, and basked in the mischief in Casā eyes when he spilled the beans about Nathan and Josephās latest antics.Ā
Ā
Jack continued to toddle around between them, leaning against one or the other between circuits. He seemed to be getting a bit steadier everytime and there was a surprisingly focused look on his face, for a baby. It was almost like he was practicing, like he knew he wanted to get better at walking as fast as he could.Ā
Ā
One moment Dean was watching Jack toddle around the porch, the stuffed bunny toy Sam had gotten him held unsteadily in one hand. The next moment, Jack and toy were gone, with a familiar fluttering sound Dean hadnāt heard in years.Ā
Ā
Dean shot up out his slouch.Ā
Ā
āWhat the fuck?ā he said, craning his head around as if heād find Jack hiding in the shrubs beneath the front window. Since when had Jack been able to fly? Jesus, he could be fucking anywhere. He might not even be on the same continent and how the hell was he going to know how to get home?Ā
Ā
Cas sighed and rolled his eyes, apparently not feeling any of the panic that was descending on Dean.Ā
Ā
āHang on,ā he said, and also disappeared with a flutter.Ā
Ā
Dean sat there on the porch alone for a second, feeling like an absolute idiot with his legs sprawled out and the box of muffins still beside him. He was just about to stand, his panic increasing with each moment alone, when both Cas and Jack appeared before him, Jack held securely in Casā arms.Ā
Ā
āHow many times have I told you,ā Cas said, eyeing Jack sternly, āif you want to fly, I have to come with you. Itās not safe to fly alone at your age.āĀ
Ā
Jack seemed to wilt a little under Casā stern look, making a sad burbling noise and holding his bunny closer. Cas sat back down, Jack still in his arms.Ā
Ā
āItās alright, Jack. I love you. I just want you to be safe.ā Cas pressed a kiss to his forehead, which seemed to perk Jack right up. Cas set him down, but Jack seemed content to sit in his lap rather than clamber around.Ā
Ā
Dean could still feel his heart pounding in his chest, gradually slowing now they were both back. āWhereād he go?āĀ
Ā
Cas shot him a wry look. āThe roof. He loves it up there. Itās my own fault. We were reading Goodnight Moon and he wanted to actually say goodnight to the moon, so...ā Cas trailed off, an embarrassed look on his face.Ā
Ā
Dean couldnāt help but laugh, the panic finally receding into a wash of humour. āSo you took him up to the roof.āĀ
Ā
āYes,ā Cas admitted reluctantly, still embarrassed and not meeting Deanās gleeful eyes. āIt seemed a better compromise than actually going to the moon.āĀ
Ā
Dean felt his eyes widen, the smile fade from his face. āWait, you can actually go to the moon?āĀ
Ā
Cas shot him that partly annoyed look that Dean remembered so well from the early years of their friendship, the one that meant Iām a celestial wave of fucking intent, you idiot, of course I fucking can . A wave of gleeful awe washed over Dean; he recognized the feeling from that time heād had his memories wiped, every time Sam had told him about Cas. A freaking angel is my best friend. Awesome. Ā
Ā
āSo what, he can actually fly now?ā Dean asked.Ā
Ā
Cas shook his head, eyeing Jack with rueful good humor. āNot very well. Heās still learning how to bend space and time. I think heāll have a better grasp of it in a few years.āĀ
Ā
And that was a thought ā a time travelling, teleporting toddler. The world wouldnāt know what hit it.Ā
Ā
āYou should take him to see the dinosaurs. Kids love dinosaurs.ā Although what theyād do if Jack wanted to bring one of them home, Dean had no idea. Wasnāt exactly room for a massive killer reptile on a cozy block in the āburbs.Ā
Ā
Jack squirmed a little in Casā lap, gingerly edging himself down to the porch and making his way over to Dean. He climbed into Deanās lap like a tree, hauling himself up with Deanās hand on his back to steady him. He settled with a huff, and slapped his hands on the muffin box, looking at Dean with an imploring expression.Ā
Ā
āRight now, I think heād like a muffin,ā Cas said dryly and Dean couldnāt help but laugh.Ā
Ā
Jack would do stuff like this sometimes, acting like a completely normal kid one second and then whipping out the godly powers the next. It had thrown Dean at first and honestly still did a lot of the time. But watching Jack carefully take crumbled bits of muffin from Deanās palm, mashing them speculatively between his fingers before stuffing them in his mouth, he had to wonder if all kids werenāt like this in a way. Surprising, unpredictable, and yet lovely for it.Ā
Ā
Jack stuffed more muffin in his mouth and grinned up at Dean with a mouth full of crumbs. Dean couldnāt stop himself from reaching out and touching him, straightening his hair, wiping some crumbs away.Ā
Ā
āGood job, kid,ā he said.Ā
_
Ā
They went inside for dinner. Jack ate voraciously, not at all slowed down by the bits of muffin heād had earlier. An episode of Paw Patrol later and that energy was all gone, Jack slumping over on the couch.Ā Ā
Ā
āThink itās time for bed,ā Dean said. Jack whined in protest but let Cas pick him up without struggle.Ā
Ā
āI think youāre right,ā Cas said. Jack whined again, lifting his head to glare at Cas. Cas looked back. āIf you donāt sleep now, youāll just feel grumpy later. Dean will still be here in the morning.ā And Cas shot a look at Dean like heād track him down and drag him back if he wasnāt. Dean held his hands up in surrender.Ā
Ā
āSure thing. I love sleeping on your awful couch.ā he said.Ā
Ā
āIāll get him settled. You pick something to read.āĀ
Ā
Cas left the room with the kid, leaving Dean in the living room.
Ā
There was a small but growing collection of picture books on the little shelf next to Jackās toy trunk. Some were clearly quite old, probably gifts from neighbours whose kids were grown, while others were new, recently purchased. Dean started to rifle through them. There were some classics in there ā Robert Munsch, Doctor Seiss, Peter Rabbit ā but there were some new ones too that Dean didnāt recognize ā And Tango Makes Three, Donāt Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus. He was flipping through one simply titled I Want My Hat Back when he spotted it.Ā
Ā
It was worn, clearly used before it had come to Jack. Dean picked it up and flipped through it, noting the dog eared pages, the pictures slightly worn away with time. Some pages near the end were dotted with little circles of water damage and Dean suddenly had the sense he was holding a book that someone somewhere had cried over.Ā
Ā
Cas came back into the room, stopping next to him. Dean held up the book in his hands.Ā
Ā
āYou read him The Velveteen Rabbit yet?āĀ
Ā
Cas shook his head, his fingers running over the spines of the books on the shelf. āNo, not yet. I wanted to wait until he was a little older and could have a better understanding of the message the story conveyed.āĀ
Ā
āGood,ā Dean said, decisively shutting the book and putting it back on the shelf with relief. āThat book fucked me up when I was a kid.āĀ
Ā
Cas squinted over his shoulder at him. ā The Velveteen Rabbit ?āĀ
Ā
āYeah, man. Itās creepy,ā Dean said, defensively. And it had been. Dean could still remember the illustration of that fucking horse toy, the rabbitās button eyes, with a shiver down his spine. Heād read it again, years later when he was around twelve, carefully selecting books at the library to steal for Sam. He remembered sitting in those plastic block chairs that always seemed to litter the kids sections of libraries everywhere, trying not to cry along with the rabbit after heād been thrown away. Something about the story, about the concept of being real, had scared Dean deeply; heād ended up shoving the book to the back of the shelf, hiding it behind a bunch of others in the hopes it wouldnāt be found.Ā
Ā
He wasnāt going to tell Cas all that though, judging by the measured way Cas was looking at him, Dean wondered if he already knew, in that way he always seemed to know Deanās deepest secrets without Dean ever having to say a word.Ā
Ā
āRead him this one,ā Dean said, pointing to a random book, just to break the silence he could feel descending.
Ā
Cas nodded in consideration, seemingly willing to let whatever heād been thinking go. Dean heaved a silent sigh of relief.Ā
Ā
āThis is one of his favourites,ā Cas said, pulling the book from the shelf. It was that stupid one Dean had bought, he realized, one of the times heād visited, so desperate not to show up empty-handed and not sure what the hell a kid would like. āHe quite enjoys the mouse.āĀ
Ā
āAwesome,ā Dean said. He couldnāt say that he knew anything about the mouse in that story, or what a Gruffalo was, but it was nice that Jack appreciated it.Ā
Ā
Cas looked up at him, a familiar considering light in his eyes. āWould you like to read it to him?āĀ
Ā
It was the first time heād asked that question; Dean usually managed to duck away or start doing something else before the question could even emerge. But heād known, somehow, known it was coming. And he still didnāt know a good answer or how to react beyond the way his stomach dropped.Ā
Ā
Dean was shaking his head before Cas even finished. āI donāt, I mean, thanks, but, umā¦ā he trailed off, mutely shaking his head.Ā
Ā
Cas studied him. āDean,ā he said, a kindness in his voice that made Dean want to yell. āItās just a storybook.āĀ
Ā
And, see, Cas was right about that. It was just a storybook, not even 20 pages long. God, sitting in a rocking chair and reading a book to a baby might actually be the easiest thing heād ever done.Ā
Ā
But it was also impossible. Dean had vague memories of Mom reading to him in those fuzzy years before she died, memories he could never really be sure he didnāt just make up, convinced by Dad to believe in the untouched perfection of his life before the fire. He had the barest handful of memories of Dad doing it after the fire, only a few times before heād forgotten that Dean was a kid who wanted that kind of thing. Mostly, he remembered teaching himself to read on the few picture books theyād received from well-meaning folks at the motels theyād stayed in, stumbling over the words so Sammy could get his story time. Sammy was a little kid and little kids got story time at night. And if Dad couldnāt do it, then Dean would, no matter how many tears of frustration he shed at his own lack of understanding the printed words in front of him.Ā
Ā
To revisit that now, to do that with Casā kid, it felt like ripping something open inside of him, some wound he hadnāt even known was there. God, he hadnāt even done that with Ben, though Lisa had on the nights when Ben still let himself get treated like a little kid instead of a kid that was too cool to be babied. Lisa had never asked him too; maybe, sheād known he couldnāt. Maybe sheād known how heād always hidden downstairs during those occasional story times, far enough away he could only hear the barest hint of their voices in that big house.Ā
Ā
The house he was in now was small, compared to herās. Heād still be able to hear Cas reading, no matter how far he went, unless he left completely. Sitting outside like a stray dog, because something as small as a storybook about a mouse was enough to undo him completely.Ā
Ā
Cas was still looking at him, patiently, as if heād be willing to wait forever for Dean to pull himself together long enough to say something. That patience somehow unlocked the words stuck in Deanās throat.Ā
Ā
āI ā I donāt,ā he started, haltingly. He grit his teeth. āI donāt know if thatās a good idea, Cas.āĀ
Ā
āYou donāt have to read to him,ā Cas said, because Cas was always endlessly forgiving of Deanās failings, ābut would you like to come sit with us, anyway? I know Jack would love that.āĀ
Ā
He couldnāt, Dean knew he couldnāt. And yet he found himself nodding, his feet following Cas to Jackās bedroom anyway. He leaned awkwardly against the changing table, Cas taking the rocking chair. But Jack started to squirm, making grabby motions in Deanās direction and Dean found himself settling on the floor next to the crib, poking his fingers through the slats for Jack to grab.Ā
Ā
Casā voice rumbled, pitching up and down as he read the voices of the different characters. Jack seemed enthralled and delighted. Dean barely heard the words Cas was saying, too absorbed in the sound of Casā voice, the glances he shot Jack every time he finished a page, the sleepy focus on Jackās face, determined to make it to the end of the story.Ā
Ā
Soon enough, Cas was folding the book shut, putting it aside. He stood, leaning over the crib, and pressed a kiss to Jackās forehead. Jackās hand, still wrapped loosely around Deanās finger, tightened briefly, and Dean could feel the pulse of contentment and safety emanating from him.Ā
Ā
āI love you,ā Cas said, just as he did every night Dean had seen him put Jack to bed. The words resonated with something deep inside Dean, clear as bell, and he abruptly found tears lining his eyes. He blinked them away quickly, hoping Cas wouldnāt notice.Ā
Ā
Dean stood, taking his turn leaning over the crib. āGoodnight, kid,ā he said, his voice rough. Jack blinked at him sleepily when Dean ran his fingers over his cheek, turning into the touch with a sigh. Dean tucked his blanket a little more securely around him, unable to stop himself from rubbing his hands over Jackās soft tuft of hair. āSweet dreams.āĀ
Ā
Cas was leaning in the doorway when Dean turned around. There was a look on his face, something complicated that Dean couldnāt remember seeing there before. It was almost desperate, but that wasnāt quite right.Ā
Ā
āWhatās wrong?ā Dean asked, quietly so he wouldnāt disturb Jack.Ā
Ā
The expression faded from Casā face, folding away beneath a small smile. The sadness that had been missing that day was back. āNothing. Nothingās wrong.āĀ
_
Ā
Dean had almost forgotten about Crowleyās little problem until he called one morning before dawn, Deanās phone vibrating across his nightstand and waking him from a deep sleep.Ā
Ā
He answered the phone without bothering to look at the caller ID. āWhat?ā he growled.Ā
Ā
āOh, Iām sorry,ā Crowleyās irate voice said over the line, āam I interrupting your beauty sleep?āĀ
Ā
Dean groaned, rubbing his eyes. āWhat do you want?āĀ
Ā
āI want to find and kill the Prince of Hell threatening to take over hell and rain fire and brimstone down on Earth. But thatās just me.āĀ
Ā
Dean sighed. āYou mean, whatās his name ā āĀ
Ā
Crowleyās voice was cold as ice. āAsmodeus.āĀ
Ā
āYeah, thatās it.āĀ
Ā
āDonāt tell me youāve forgotten.āĀ
Ā
Dean rolled his eyes, reaching over to flip his lamp on. āI havenāt forgotten, just havenāt seen any sign of him.āĀ
Ā
āWell, I have,ā Crowley said, snippily, āword is, heās in Kansas City. Naturally, I thought of my favorite Kansans and wondered if you might use some of your oh so precious time to take a look.āĀ
Ā
Dean frowned, rubbing his forehead. It was too early for this much sarcasm. āWho pissed in your wheaties this morning?āĀ
Ā
āHas it ever occurred to you that my foul mood, let us say, may be somewhat related to this errand? That waging a war against a Prince of Hell might be tad stressful? Considering the fate of the world and, more importantly, my throne, lies in the balance and the two morons Iām unfortunately forced to rely on are less than helpful?ā Crowley was practically shouting by the end of his tirade. Dean held the phone away from his ear.Ā
Ā
āOkay, Jesus, weāll go look,ā Dean said, āyou have any idea where to start or should we just check the entire city?āĀ
Ā
āI can do you better,ā Crowley replied, suddenly sweet all over, āI have an address.āĀ
Ā
āText it to me,ā Dean said. āAnd try to cheer up, okay? It canāt be all bad.āĀ
Ā
Crowley took a deep breath on the other side of the line. Dean took great pleasure in hanging up before Crowley could start shouting again.Ā
Ā
Frankly, Dean was starting to get a little tired of this Asmodeus shit. Theyād been all over the country the past year following these stupid leads from Crowley and never even spotted the guy. Heād start to wonder if this whole thing was some trick Crowley was playing on them to keep them amused if the guy didnāt seem so genuinely freaked out about it.Ā
Ā
There was nothing for it. Dean hauled himself out of bed, threw some clothes on, and packed his bag.Ā
Ā
Dean wasnāt arrogant enough to think that heād be able to handle a yellow eyed demon on his own. But Sam was busy all the way down in Florida and Eileen had gone up to Canada to visit a friend. The only person who might be close by was Mom. The last thing he wanted to do was bring her anywhere near a Prince of Hell, but there wasnāt much of a choice; if this turned out to be legit, Dean would need the backup.Ā
Ā
As luck would have it, she was in the middle of driving to the bunker from Missouri. A few hours later, Dean was sitting in a diner in Kansas City, watching her approach the door. She spotted him through the window and waved to him with a smile. He got up to give her a hug as she reached him.
Ā
āHey, Dean,ā she said, sliding into the booth across from him.Ā
Ā
āHey, Mom,ā he said. āHowās it going?āĀ
Ā
āGood,ā she said, grabbing the menu he slid to her. āFinished up in Indianapolis early.ā She grinned, leaning in conspiratorially. āIāve been getting some hiking in.āĀ
Ā
āYou hike?ā Dean asked with a laugh.
Ā
She shrugged. āWell, I am sixty-four. I figured Iād give it a try.ā She smiled. āIām glad you called.āĀ
Ā
āThat bad, huh?ā he asked.
Ā
āDean.ā She slapped his arm while he snickered. āBut yeah, it was.āĀ
Ā
They put in their order before Dean turned the conversation to Crowleyās early morning request. There wasnāt much to explain āMom had checked out her fair share of leads on Asmodeus in the past year, same as he and Sam.Ā
Ā
āAre you sure about this?ā Mom asked, looking at him closely.Ā
Ā
Dean shrugged. āYeah. Might be nothing, always has been so far, but itās worth a look.āĀ
Ā
āI donāt like working with demons,ā Mom said.Ā
Ā
āHey, neither do I, but Crowley, yāknow, heās different now, heās not just some demon,ā Dean said, a little uncomfortably. He wondered if he should try to explain their history with Crowley, how heād gone from enemy to ally and back so many goddamn times it made Deanās head spin.Ā
Ā
āItās complicated,ā he decided to say instead.Ā
Ā
Mom shot him a narrow look.Ā āHe's a demon, Dean. Itās not that complicated.ā
Ā
Dean prayed she would never find out about the Mark or what it had done to him. There were a lot of things Sam and he had silently agreed to never bring up to her, but that was one of the big ones for him.Ā
Ā
āYeah, I guess. But heās been there for us, at least lately. You remember what he did for Cas.ā
Ā
Mom frowned, a mix of guilt and shame crossing her face. Dean hadnāt meant to remind her of that night, or the fact that Cas had almost died because of her actions. He knew she felt bad about it, knew that sheād had a conversation with Cas about it, one that Cas had called unnecessary and awkward with a hunted look on his face. But whatever they had talked about, it had clearly made Mom feel better and Dean thought he knew her well enough by now to know that only an apology would manage that, no matter how unnecessary Cas had deemed it.Ā
Ā
The address Crowley had sent him led to a building smack dab in the middle of Kansas Cityās sprawl, some new development that didnāt really match the rest of the town around it. Dean had been to Kansas City before but it always seemed to change every time he came through, like most larger cities. Give him a small town anyday, where the same people and same places had been there for what felt like his whole life, even if heād only visited twice.Ā
Ā
Mom had grinned when sheād read the address ā Campbell St.Ā
Ā
āWeāll fit right in,ā she said, shooting him a smirk.Ā
Ā
The building was on the verge of being complete, the scaffolding still standing and making it look more menacing than it was. They cleared the first floor together but the building was six stories high; it would take too long to clear if they didnāt split up. Mom clearly had the same idea, gesturing him up to the third floor while she stepped out onto the second.
Ā
There were plastic sheets hanging off some of the windows still as Dean cleared the rooms, flapping loudly in any passing breeze. Dean wished they werenāt there, not just for the noise they made that could easily cover up the sound of footsteps creeping up behind him but because they blocked the breeze. It was just edging toward fall now but you wouldnāt know it here and Dean could feel sweat starting to glue his shirt to his back.Ā
Ā
It didnāt take him long after clearing the third floor to suspect that there had never been a demon here. The look on Momās face when they reunited up on the sixth floor confirmed it.Ā
Ā
āNo sulfur, no bodies, nothing,ā she said, shaking her head. Dean sighed and tucked his gun away.Ā
Ā
āGoddamit,ā he growled.Ā
Ā
Mom looked at him closely. āYou sure you can rely on this Crowley guy?āĀ
Ā
And honestly, Dean didnāt know. He knew Crowley had changed over the years āno way the guy heād met way back would have helped save Cas or ever would have put his neck on the line for anything that didnāt directly benefit him. But Dean had better things to do than go on wild goose chases around the country. Heād tentatively agreed to be at Casā place in time to go apple picking with Jack. At this rate, heād miss it.Ā
Ā
Dean cursed again and dug out his phone, dialing Crowley with a few angry clicks.Ā
Ā
Shockingly, Crowley actually answered.
Ā
āAny luck?āĀ
Ā
āNo, asshole, thereās nothing here,ā Dean snapped. āItās just an empty building.āĀ
Ā
āYouāre sure thereās no sign?ā Crowley asked, more urgently.Ā
Ā
āDude, Iāve literally been hunting demons my whole life.ā Dean regretted saying it immediately, catching the wince of Momās face. āI think Iād know.ā
Ā
āDammit,ā Crowley said, and hung up the phone. Dean stared at it for a second, but no, the call had definitely been ended. Unbelievable.Ā
Ā
āDouchebag,ā he muttered, just in time for Crowley to appear in front of him.Ā
Ā
āCharming,ā Crowley said sarcastically.Ā
Ā
āWhat the hell are you doing here?ā Dean asked.Ā
Ā
āApparently, good help is hard to find,ā Crowley said, glancing around the unfinished room with distaste, āI came to look for myself in case you missed something.ā
Ā
āWe didnāt miss anything,ā Mom said, sounding pissed. Crowley turned to her with a smirk.Ā
Ā
āAh, Mother Winchester, how delightful. Youāll forgive me if I look for myself.āĀ
Ā
Dean flung his hands up in the air. āHey, knock yourself out. But weāre leaving.āĀ
Ā
āSo soon?ā Crowley asked.Ā
Ā
āThis is a waste of time, Crowley!ā And Dean had better places to be. āWhy the hell does this matter, anyway?ā
Ā
Crowleyās eyes narrowed. āMaybe I havenāt properly impressed the gravity of the situation on you, Squirrel. Asmodeus āā
Ā
Dean rolled his eyes, abruptly finished with this whole thing. He needed to be on the road; he didnāt have time for this. āYāknow, Iāve heard just about enough about Asmodeus. You show up at our door, asking for our help, and weāve given it, out of the goodness of our hearts. But I never even seen this guy. No hunter has! You got us chasing our tails here and for what?ā
Ā
Crowley stared at him, his brows raised. āYouāre saying I made him up?ā
Ā
āYou are a demon,ā Mary said, as if that explained it.Ā
Ā
āYes, thank you, I have noticed,ā Crowley said, smiling facetiously. Dean wanted to smack the look off his face. āAnd, admittedly, I am also a liar, many times over. But Iām not lying to you now.ā
Ā
āNot exactly convincing, man,ā Dean said.Ā
Ā
Crowley spread his hands wide. āWhat would I gain? I am but a simple creature after all. All I really want is to keep my position.ā
Ā
āYeah, sure,ā Dean said, rolling his eyes.Ā
Ā
āAsmodeus is a Prince of Hell; youāve seen the damage they can do.ā Crowley let his gaze, very unsubtly, track over to Mary. She glared at him, shifting uncomfortably on her feet. It took all Dean had not to actually smack Crowley for that one.Ā
Ā
He looked back at Dean, apparently not noticing Deanās growing desire to beat him. āAnd thatās before he got his hands on a nephilim.ā
Ā
Dean froze, all other thoughts draining from his head. āWhat did you say?ā
Ā
Crowley watched him closely, all humor and artifice gone from his expression. āHeās the son of Lucifer. You really think heāll let him go?ā
Ā
āDean?ā Mary asked, her eyes flicking between the two of them, confused. He hadnāt told her, Dean realized. He knew Sam had mentioned that theyād found Cas, but he didnāt know if she knew about Jack at all.Ā
Ā
Dean took a step closer to Crowley, looming over him. āYou come anywhere near them āā
Ā
Crowley had the nerve to roll his eyes. āRelax, Squirrel, Iām not moving onto your turf. I couldnāt care less what happens to Angel and his tyke, but I thought you could use the reminder.ā He leaned in, lowering his voice to a whisper.Ā
Ā
āNeither of them are safe. Not so long as Asmodeus walks the earth,ā he said.Ā
Ā
Horrible images raced through Deanās head āsome yellowed bastard in Casā little home, staring at everything that made it good with contempt. Cas hurt or dead, because Dean knew to his core that Cas would never let anything happen to Jack while he was still breathing. And Jack taken, gone beyond all hope of salvation. God .Ā
Ā
Dean deflated, hanging his head in defeat. āFine.ā
Ā
Crowley smiled, clearly satisfied. āGlad we had this talk.ā And he disappeared.Ā
Ā
Silence fell, the only sound the flapping of the plastic sheeting in the wind.Ā
Ā
āDean?ā Mom asked again. She was watching him closely, worry heavy in her face.Ā
Ā
Dean blinked at the blank space Crowley had been then shook his head. āWe should go.āĀ
Ā
Mom followed him back out to the cars. Dean could tell that she was watching him closely, clearly angling for an answer, but he had none to give.Ā
Ā
He couldnāt believe it had taken Crowley to remind him, freaking Crowley . Jack was special, Dean knew that. There were people after him, Cas had told him as much. But somehow Dean had never connected that with Crowleyās mad hunt for Asmodeus until heād laid it all out. The thought of some slimy yellowed eyed son of a bitch finding Jack and taking him, moulding him into some weapon like Azazel had tried to do with Sam āit was revolting.Ā
Ā
Losing Jack would break Casā heart, Dean knew that. The kid was Casā world, his everything. He didnāt know if Cas would survive anything happening to him.Ā
Ā
Dean couldnāt let that happen, couldnāt risk it. And if that meant that he ran down the dumbass leads Crowley fed him, then so be it. Heād do it, if it kept Cas and Jack out of the line of fire. Ā
Ā
Mom joined him at the Impalaās driverās side door, looking up at him narrowly.Ā
Ā
āWhat was that about?ā she asked, āA nephilim?āĀ
Ā
Dean sighed, leaning on the roof of the car. āItās Jack.ā
Ā
āWho?ā
Ā
āKellyās kid, Jack. We found him. Heās living with Cas.ā
Ā
Momās eyes went wide. āAre they alright?āĀ
Ā
āYeah, yeah, theyāre good.ā
Ā
āAnd the kid?āĀ
Ā
Dean couldnāt help a smile. Jack had fallen asleep against his side, the last time heād been there. Dean had held absolutely still through the rest of the movie, so as not to wake him, Cas fighting a smile the whole time.Ā
Ā
āHe's good too. Cas is taking care of him.āĀ
Ā
Mom smiled back, looking relieved. āIām glad. But this Asmodeus character is after him?āĀ
Ā
Dean nodded. āJackās got a lot of power. Cas is keeping him safe, but āā
Ā
āBut heās looking for them,ā Mom finished.Ā
Ā
āGuess so,ā Dean said.Ā
Ā
Mom put a hand on his arm, squeezing gently. āIāll help however I can. Just let me know.āĀ
Ā
āI will. Thanks, Mom.ā He hesitated then grabbed her in a hug. Her arms squeezed around him and he felt a measure of calm return to him. He started planning his route out to California; he doubted heād make it in time for the apple picking, but he wanted to see the two of them, make sure they were alright with his own eyes. He had a creeping fear in his chest that he just couldnāt shake, like Asmodeus had somehow found them just by dint of Dean thinking about it. He knew he wouldnāt shake it completely until he saw them in person, happy and secure.Ā
Ā
Heād be busy in the coming weeks, hunting Asmodeus down. He wasnāt sure how to go about finding a demon who clearly didnāt want to be found, but heād done harder things. He wanted one last visit with Cas and Jack to carry him through it.Ā
Ā
Heād take care of this for Cas. Cas had enough on his plate already, he shouldnāt have to worry about this too. If that meant he didnāt see Cas and Jack as much as he wanted to in the meantime, then thatās just how it had to be. This was what Dean was for, to be the sword and shield protecting the good things of this world against the bad.Ā
Ā
Heād keep them safe. There wasnāt another option.Ā
Chapter 3: THE GHOST PART 2
Chapter Text
Cas was on the porch when Dean arrived, watching him pull into the driveway. Dean was tired; Kansas to California was always a long haul but heād spent the drive this time around with images of the house empty and Cas and Jack gone or hurt dancing in his mind. Heād slept terribly, nightmares keeping him up even more than usual.Ā
Ā
āI know, I know, Iām late,ā Dean said, walking up the driveway to Cas. āI was on a hunt, Iām sorry.ā
Ā
Cas watched him approach, a hint of confusion on his face. He looked fine, just like he always looked; no cuts or bruises, no distress or fear. Dean almost sagged with relief. Part of him wanted to grab Cas, hold him tight, but it would only make Cas ask questions he wasnāt sure how to answer.Ā
Ā
āDean, I understand,ā Cas said, āI figured it was something like that.āĀ
Ā
Dean hesitated, briefly toying with the idea of explaining exactly what heād been up to. But he didnāt want to bring even the name of Asmodeus into this house, this sanctuary. This place was safe from demons, there wasnāt anything here that could hurt Jack or Cas. Heād felt it here before, sitting on the porch or in the kitchen insideālike nothing could hurt them inside this house, like it was holy. And maybe in a way it was, made so by the presence of so many angels in one place.Ā
Ā
Cas could worry about every other monster in the world. Dean could handle this one.Ā
Ā
āJack was a little upset,ā Cas said, ābut I think heāll forgive you.āĀ
Ā
Dean let himself smile back. He could let his worry go for now; right now, he wanted to be here. āWhere is the little guy?āĀ
Ā
āInside.āĀ
Ā
Dean happened to glance to the side as he stepped onto the porch and noticed a few cigarette butts lying innocently on the ground, half under the porch.Ā
Ā
āYou smoking now?ā Dean asked jokingly.
Ā
Cas rolled his eyes. āNo, itās Claire. She was in the area last week and came to visit. I keep forgetting to clean those up.āĀ
Ā
Another reason to be upset about being late; it had been a long time since Dean had seen Claire.Ā
Ā
āI didnāt know she smoked.āĀ
Ā
Cas sighed. āI didnāt either.āĀ
Ā
Dean shot him a look. āAnd I bet you werenāt too happy to find out.āĀ
Ā
āNo, but Claire is an adult and can make her own choices,ā Cas said, sounding very reluctant. āEven if they are bad for her health.āĀ
Ā
Dean looked at the cigarette butts again, shrugging. āGuess you could always heal her lungs anyway.ā He glanced at Cas, who was looking back with a cagey expression. Dean snorted. āYou already did.āĀ
Ā
Cas mumbled something under his breath and headed to the front door. Dean grinned and followed. Figured there were perks to having an angel as your pseudo-dad.Ā
Ā
āI thought kids liked those vape things these days,ā Dean said, slipping out of his jacket as he went inside. Cas shot him a laughing look, brow raised.Ā
Ā
Dean frowned. āShut up, I know things.āĀ
Ā
āI know you do,ā Cas said, indulgently.Ā Ā
Ā
Dean pointed a finger at him. āI am not old.āĀ
Ā
āI know you arenāt.āĀ
Ā
āYouāre way older than me, man.ā
Ā
āI know I am.āĀ
Ā
āOlder than dirt.ā
Ā
āSo Claire has told me.ā
Ā
Jack was set up in his playpen and he did look a little upset, morosely making his bunny toy bounce along the floor. His mouth was turned down in an exaggerated pout. Cas glanced from him to Dean, his face expectant.Ā
Ā
Dean sighed and went to sit beside the playpen, groaning internally as he eased down to the floor. His back was really not thanking him for the long drive today.Ā
Ā
āHey, kid,ā he said. Jack didnāt look at him, just kept bouncing the bunny.Ā
Ā
āDid you have fun picking apples?ā Dean tried. Jack, again, didnāt respond. Dean glanced back over his shoulder at Cas, watching them with a slight knit in his brow. He met Deanās eyes and nodded encouragingly.Ā
Ā
Dean turned back to the kid, still stubbornly pretending he wasnāt there. He could feel a low mood hanging over the house, something sad and lonesome. It reminded him of motel rooms growing up, after Dad left for a hunt and Dean and Sam were left looking at each other across the bed Dad would never use.Ā
Ā
He hesitated, unsure what to do, then reached out and placed his hand, gently, so gently, on Jackās back. He felt so tiny, so infinitely fragile, under Deanās hand. It seemed like it shouldnāt be possible, that someone could ever be so small.Ā
Ā
āIām sorry I couldnāt come with you,ā Dean whispered. He let his hand start to rub over Jackās back. āI would if I couldāve.ā
Ā
It seemed so hollow suddenly, this whole production. Heād heard somewhere that all boys grow up to be their fathers. Heād told himself a long time ago that he would never become his father, no matter what. There were things his dad had given him that he was proud ofāhis loyalty to his family, his protectiveness of them, his courage. But he didnāt want to be the unsmiling task master, shouting in peopleās faces to keep them in line, giving orders that no one understood and refusing to explain. When he saw that fucked up future version of himself courtesy of Zachariah, it had been like a nightmare come true, seeing his father wearing his face. So heād made that promise to himself and then heād broken it over and over, ever since.Ā
Ā
Dean wondered if his dad had felt like this, coming back from hunts, seeing the resentful sadness on Samās face, the stoic acceptance on Deanās. Caught between the knowledge that being away had been necessary and the longing to be there with his kids.Ā
Ā
He hadnāt made any promises to Jack; he wasnāt the kidās father. And it wasnāt the same as his own childhood; Jack hadnāt been alone, heād had Cas with him. But this felt like a failure anyway.Ā
Ā
A hand landed on his shoulder, Cas suddenly beside him.Ā
Ā
āJack,ā he prompted, softly, āBe kind.āĀ
Ā
Jack didnāt do anything for a long moment, continuing to bounce his bunny stubbornly. Then he leaned back against Deanās hand and hesitantly held the bunny out to him. Dean took it, carefully, knowing it for the gift it was.Ā Ā
Ā
āThanks, kid,ā he said. And apparently, all was forgiven.Ā
_
Ā
āWhat the hell are you going to do with all of it?ā he asked, staring at the almost overflowing bucket of apples sitting innocently on the kitchen counter.Ā
Ā
Cas looked at them a little uncertainly. āIām not entirely sure. I made a pie this morning but it barely seemed to make a dent.āĀ
Ā
Dean stared at him. āDude, you bake?āĀ
Ā
āIāve found it restful,ā Cas said. āAnd Jack enjoys helping.ā Dean wasnāt sure what help a baby could provide when it came to baking; he didnāt exactly have fine motor skills yet. But then again, Jack was no ordinary baby; maybe his magic powers made him a master chef.Ā
Ā
That said, Jack didnāt seem too interested in baking at the moment. Heād demanded to be picked up, going so far as to fly into Casā arms when Cas didnāt do it fast enough and now he was happily plastered against his side. He also wanted Dean close, apparently, constantly reaching out grabby little fingers to hold onto Deanās shirt. Subsequently, Dean was forced to stand very close to Cas, close enough they were constantly brushing up against each other. It was incredibly awkward; Dean kept finding his eyes snagging on Casā, or his lips, or his jawline. Dean knew he was truly going crazy when he thought he saw Casā eyes doing the same.Ā
Ā
He should just take Jack; then theyād both be able to have some space. But something always stopped him when he thought about actually holding Jack, some mental block that wouldnāt let him hold out his arms and accept that smallest of burdens.Ā
Ā
āBut who eats it? I thought everything tasted like molecules to you.ā Dean asked.Ā
Ā
āIt does,ā Cas said, āthough some molecules are worse than others.āĀ
Ā
āOh yeah?ā
Ā
Cas shook his head seriously. āSomething in the molecular structure of parfaits renders them truly inedible. Jack doesnāt like them either.āĀ
Ā
Dean snorted a laugh. āSo what, you just hype Jack up on sugar all day?ā Not like Dean could judge; he and Sammy had a similar diet when they grew up and theyād turned out fairly healthy.Ā
Ā
āJack has a little, but usually I give it to the Smiths.ā
Ā
It took Dean a moment to place the names. āRight, the Superbowl neighbors. Bet you must be pretty popular with them.āĀ
Ā
āSometimes they give me casseroles in trade,ā Cas said with a harried look. Dean tried not to laughāCas slyly disapparating some poor housewifeās casserole and feigning enjoyment the next time he saw her was too funny.Ā
Ā
āWould you like to try a slice?ā Cas asked, a little nervously.Ā
Ā
āUh, yeah, of course,ā Dean said, āgimme the pie.āĀ
Ā
They had to negotiate with Jack for Cas to be able to walk and grab the pie. Jack seemed to agree with the notion, as long as they all got to sit at the table together as Dean ate.Ā
Ā
A perfectly warmed piece of pie was placed in front of Dean, a slowly melting scoop of vanilla ice cream placed jauntily on top. Dean glanced up at Cas, hovering nervously beside him.Ā
Ā
āTen out of ten on presentation,ā Dean said. Cas didnāt crack a smile, looking at Dean with a hunted expression.Ā
Ā
āSeriously, Cas, chill out. Iām sure itās great,ā Dean said.Ā
Ā
Cas sighed and threw himself down in the seat next to Dean. He watched anxiously over his folded hands as Dean took a bite.Ā
Ā
Dean chewed consideringly, nodded, swallowed.Ā
Ā
āCas,ā he said, āI got bad news for you.āĀ
Ā
Cas sighed, loud and long. āItās terrible, I know.āĀ
Ā
āYou been feeding this to people? I think that might be a crime. Good thing you arenāt eating those casseroles, theyāre probably trying to get you back.āĀ
Ā
āYou try cooking something without being able to taste what it actually tastes like for humans.ā Cas hung his head. āI donāt know what Iām doing wrong. I follow the recipe exactly.āĀ
Ā
Dean considered the pie in front of him. It really was terrible; something had gone horribly wrong with the consistency, leaving the filling both grainy and slimy. It was a terrible mouth feel and far, far too salty. But there had been something...Dean hesitated and gingerly bent off a piece of the crust, slowly putting it in his mouth.Ā
Ā
It was perfectābuttery, flaky, everything a pie crust should be.Ā
Ā
āDude, the crust is amazing,ā Dean said.Ā
Ā
Cas stared at him, apparently stunned. āIs it?āĀ
Ā
āYes!ā That was what had so surprised Deanāthe perfection of the crust, like something out of a cooking magazine, had given a deceptive perception for the rest of the pie. Martha Stewart herself could not have made a better pie crust.
Ā
Dean looked at Cas, shaking his head. āDude, the crust is the hard part. How can you make a perfect crust but the filling tastes like dogshit?āĀ
Ā
āItās not that bad,ā Cas said, uncertainly.Ā
Ā
āIt really is.ā Dean glanced at the pile of apples then looked back at Cas. āYou wanna make another one?āĀ
Ā
Cas looked skeptically at the slice in front of Dean. The ice cream had melted in a sad little puddle on the plate. āI donāt know. Maybe I should try something else.āĀ
Ā
āDude, donāt give up,ā Dean urged, ābesides, pie is the best dessert there is.Ā
Ā
Cas still looked skeptical. Dean leaned forward on his elbows.Ā
Ā
āListen,ā he said, ābetween your crust and my filling, I bet we can make the best pie in the state. Right, Jack?āĀ
Ā
Jack giggled and clapped his hands, clearly on board and happy to be included.Ā
Ā
āSee?āĀ
Ā
Cas looked at them both, his mouth turning up in a smile. āYou think so?āĀ
Ā
āHey, I know so,ā Dean said. āWith Jack here to help us? Weāre gonna nail this shit.ā He glanced quickly at Jack. āStuff. Weāre gonna nail this stuff.āĀ
Ā
Cas chuckled. āThen I guess we best try.āĀ
Ā
āThatās the spirit.āĀ
Ā
The filling came together incredibly easy, Dean following the recipe Cas had copied down from a neighbor who swore by it. It was a simple recipe; the hardest part was peeling and slicing all the apples needed. Cas watched Dean like a hawk through every step, a deep frown on his face.Ā
Ā
āI donāt understand,ā he said, āI did the exact same thing.ā
Ā
Dean snorted. āYou really didnāt.āĀ
Ā
Cas already had some pie dough chilling in the fridge. It was simple to roll it out and assemble in the dish. They even made the top crust a lattice; Jack was assigned to help with weaving them through, but mostly just ended up throwing them on the floor.Ā
Ā
The pie went into the oven soon enough and they settled at the kitchen table to wait.Ā
Ā
āSo I noticed something a little odd coming in,ā Dean said. āThereās smoke all around from the fires but clear skies when I got out here.ā It had been a bad year for forest fires already, especially in California. Luckily, there wasnāt one very close to Eureka so far but Dean worried it was only a matter of time. Heād expected smoky skies, though, the smoke blowing in from the fires further south and east. But there hadnāt been anything, just clear blue skies as soon as he got past Wildwood.Ā
Ā
āYes,ā Cas sighed.Ā
Ā
āThat wouldnāt be becauseāāĀ
Ā
Cas glanced at him, a wry look on his face. āIt is.āĀ
Ā
Dean glanced at Jack; he was playing with a few apples left over from the filling, determinedly mashing the apples in his hands. āHow?āĀ
Ā
Cas studied Jack, the same fondness that always came across his face when he did settling in. āI donāt think he means to do it on purpose. I think itās just an aura that he puts out. Heās happy and it makes the weather, even the very atmosphere, change.āĀ
Ā
Dean remembered reading Good Omens , before the book had been ruined by actually living the apocalypse. He remembered that part, when the witch lady was poking around for the antichrist, how the kidās aura was so big she couldnāt sense it. He had to figure that Jack was giving Adam a run for his money.Ā
Ā
It would take a while for the pie to finish baking so they relocated to the living room. Dean booted up an episode of Paw Patrol on instinct. It was far and away Jackās favorite show; Dean had seen so much of it now he was starting to form opinions about it. He dreaded knowing enough that he had a favorite character.
Ā
Jack only made it through the first fifteen minutes before he started to list against Deanās side.Ā
Ā
āHow you doing, kid?ā he asked, hesitantly touching his fingers to Jackās shoulder. He almost pulled them away when Jack immediately made a small sad noise.Ā
Ā
āHeās tired,ā Cas said, knowingly. He was perched on the rocking chair by the window. āBut heāll be cranky as soon as I pick him up and take him to bed.āĀ
Ā
āAw, cāmon, kid. You donāt want to sleep?ā
Ā
Jack made another small noise, settling a little further into Deanās side. His eyes were sliding closed but he kept stubbornly opening them, determined to keep watching the TV.Ā
Ā
āI think I have an idea,ā Cas said. He picked Jack up, who started whining immediately, just as Cas had predicted. Cas sat at the other end of the couch and proceeded to lie down, inching down slowly until he was stretched along it.Ā
Ā
āYou want me to move?ā Dean asked.Ā
Ā
āNo, thatās okay,ā Cas said, glancing at Dean, āunless you mind.āĀ
Ā
āNo, youāre good,ā Dean said, and sat very, very still as Cas stretched his legs across Deanās lap. They were a warm weight across Deanās lap, pressing into him lightly. He was too conscious of his own hands, unsure where it was alright to put them. In the end, one ended up on the arm of the couch and the other on Casā shin. If Cas minded, he didnāt show it.Ā
Ā
At the end of the whole maneuver, Jack was lying across Casā chest, his face turned toward the TV. He conked out immediately, like hitting a light switch.Ā
Ā
āThatās incredible,ā Dean said. Cas laughed softly.Ā
Ā
āI think he just wants to be close.ā
Ā
They watched the episode for a few minutes in silence. They were getting close to the end of the episode, time for a character to learn or impart a moral lesson to the audience. Dean understood why the show was structured like thisāCas had given him a lecture before on the necessity of story-telling in the education of childrenābut it didnāt make for compelling TV for adults.Ā
Ā
āIāve been thinking about Jackās future,ā Cas said, suddenly.Ā
Ā
Dean glanced at him. The sun shining through the window fell perfectly across his face, tilted on the arm of the couch to look at Dean, lighting his eyes an unearthly blue. āOh, yeah?āĀ
Ā
Cas glanced from him down to Jack, still peacefully asleep. āI know that socialization is important for young children. According to the things Iāve read, his needs are being met so far, but heāll need to start socializing with peers in the next few years.ā
Ā
āYou mean pre-school?āĀ
Ā
āAmong other things.ā Cas glanced at him quickly. There was something harrowed in his face, some deep insecurity unburied and shown to the light.Ā
Ā
āIām not sure I know what to do,ā he said, quietly.Ā
Ā
Dean frowned. āWhat do you mean?āĀ
Ā
Cas sighed. āI meanāI donāt have a background to start from. Iām making this up as I go. You saw Jack today; he was worried, upset. I tried my best but I didnāt know how to soothe him. I-I wonder sometimes if Iām missing something. Iāā Cas shot him a look, full of resignation. āI know I am.āĀ
Ā
Dean shook his head. āCas, I donāt know what youāre talking about. You did great with Jack. Iām the one who messed that up.āĀ
Ā
āNo, Dean, you didnāt,ā Cas said. He placed a hand on Jackās back, rubbing it gently. āYouāre wonderful with him,ā he said, so softly Dean almost couldnāt hear him.Ā
Ā
It was, frankly, a staggering phrase. Dean knew for a fact that he wasnāt wonderful at anything, except maybe hunting. When it came to Jack, he was flailing in the dark the majority of the time, hoping he didnāt irrevocably fuck things up and knowing he was every time. He couldnāt even hug Jack, for fuckās sake, couldnāt read to him or do anything any halfway normal adult could do without feeling like he was going to break. There was nothing wonderful about that.Ā
Ā
But Cas was still looking miserable, eyes heavy with self-doubt, and Dean couldnāt just leave him hanging like that, whatever his own problems.Ā
Ā
āWhat do you think youāre missing?ā he asked.Ā
Ā
Casās eyes flicked between Dean and the TV, before fixing somewhere in the corner of the room. Misery twisted his face into a desperate frown.Ā
Ā
āCas, heyā Dean said, squeezing his hand on his shin. āIām not gonna judge, man. What are you missing?āĀ
Ā
Cas hesitated a moment longer. His gaze finally tracked back to Dean, looking at him steadily.Ā
Ā
āA human soul,ā he said.Ā
Ā
āOkay. But youāre an angel,ā Dean said, slowly.Ā
Ā
Cas looked away again. āI worry thatās the problem.āĀ
Ā
āWait a minute,ā Dean said, shaking his head, wondering if that would make what Cas was saying make sense. It didnāt. āAre you saying you donāt think youāre a good dad? Just because youāre not human?āĀ
Ā
Cas sighed, so deeply Jack actually sunk on his chest. His brow twisted with anguish.Ā
Ā
āI donāt understand human life, human emotion, not in the same way someone whoās been human all their life does,ā he said, in a manner of confession. He fixed Dean with haunted eyes. āWhat if I'm doing Jack a disservice?ā
Ā
Dean wondered how long Cas had been thinking like this. Was this recent, prompted by something he hadnāt mentioned? Or worse, right from the beginning, Cas accepting the responsibility of raising Jack out of his love for Kelly, all the while convinced he was going to fail?Ā
Ā
Dean wanted to shake Cas. He didnāt understand how Cas couldnāt see how well he was doing with Jack. Jack wanted for nothing. It went beyond the physical stuffāhe had the toys and the house and the food, but it was so much more than that. It was the certainty that he was cared for. That heād wake up and Cas would be there. That when he needed a hug or a kiss, he would get one. That when he was hungry he would be fed and when he was bored he would be played with and when he was tired his dad would take a nap with him. Cas was the foundation on which Jackās world revolved. There was no way Cas didnāt know that.Ā
Ā
And yet, apparently, he didnāt.Ā
Ā
āCas,ā he said, uncertain what to say. But Cas was looking at him with desperation, clearly asking Dean for something.Ā
Ā
āCas, you know Iām the last person who can give you advice about this. Sam and I, itās not like we grew up normal. And I-I havenāt done too well with the whole dad thing in the past.āĀ
Ā
Lisa and Ben were suddenly in the room with them, ghosts of failures past. Dean met Casā eyes, the two of them here the ones who had wronged them the most. He could see the guilt Cas carried over it, still, all these years later. He figured something like that didnāt just go away; it certainly hadnāt for Dean.Ā
Ā
He sighed. āI figure I donāt have a lot of good examples of fathers. Bobbyās probably the closest I got and he was good to us. But when I think of good dads, I figure youāre right up there.āĀ
Ā
Cas nodded but he didnāt look satisfied. That same misery was still knitting his brow.Ā
Ā
āWhat brought this on?ā Dean asked.Ā
Ā
Cas sighed. āIām worrying, more and more, about Jackās powers. Heās using them less than he used to. Sometimes he goes days without drawing on his grace at all. Iāve tried asking him if somethingās wrong but he hasnāt said anything. He just avoids them.āĀ
Ā
He glanced back at Dean. āI donāt want Jack to view his powers as a burden or something...corrupt. I want him to know heās good. Despite who his father was, how he came into the world in the first place.ā He glanced back down at Jack. āHeās good.āĀ
Ā
Youāll never, ever, hear me say that you, the real you, is anything but good, Sam had told Dean, as Dean stood above him, prepared to swing that scythe. Hearing something so similar coming from Cas now, it was enough to make Deanās heart twist. Because he hadnāt believed Sam then, mostly gone from the Mark but still conscious enough to know it, and he didnāt really believe it now. But it had had enough of an effect on him, even lost to the Mark as he was, that heād spared Sam. He had fought the Mark to save him based on that. That wasnāt nothing.Ā
Ā
He hoped that Jack never learned to distrust himself, the way Dean had. He hoped that Jack never looked at himself and saw only the evil inside him, nothing of value coming to light. He hoped he spent his whole life, however long it was, decades or eons, knowing that at his core, he was a good person, even if he fucked up now and then.Ā
Ā
If Jack could grow up believing that heās not a monster or a tool or a soldier, that he was just a kid, that would all be down to Cas.Ā
Ā
āHe knows that. He knows that because you tell him that, everyday,ā Dean said. āThat means something.āĀ
Ā
āBut is it enough?ā Cas asked.Ā Ā
Ā
āLook, man,ā Dean sighed, āhaving a human dad doesnāt automatically mean theyāre awesome. I mean, look at my dad. He did his best, butāāĀ
Ā
Dean cut himself off before he could finish, the words choking in his throat. But his best hadnāt been good enough, was the awful end of that sentence. Not if it left Sammy hungry so many times, not if it meant Dean was so twisted and desperate to protect Sam that it drove him to sell his soul and trick Sam into letting an angel possess him. His dadās best hadnāt meant jack shit, not if his best was leaning into Deanās ear and telling him heād have to murder his own brother.Ā
Ā
It was an awful thought, a terrible thought. Ungrateful, part of him hissed. And what right did Dean have to think that anyway, when heād done no better? He only had to look as far as Ben to know thatāthe kid who loved him, whether Dean deserved it or not, and who Dean had repaid by bringing violence into his life and then wiping his memory.Ā
Ā
Dean looked at Jack, sleeping soundly on Casā chest. He was just like Sammy at that age, sweet and innocent. And hadnāt Dean wished him gone anyway? Hadnāt Dean spent a year thinking of this child and how he must be evil, the taint of Lucifer living on his son, despite the fact he was just a baby? Hadnāt he still been distrustful when heād met him, seeing a potential monster, despite the fact that Cas adored him and would do anything for him?Ā
Ā
At least Dean hadnāt told Cas those thoughts, hadnāt hurled those accusations or made insinuations or demands. Save him or kill him. At least he was different from his father in that way.Ā
Ā
āDean?ā Cas asked quietly. Dean turned his eyes from Jack, suddenly unable to stomach looking at him.Ā Ā
Ā
āYouāre a good dad, Cas,ā he said, ābeing human aināt got nothing to do with it.āĀ
Ā
Dean hesitated, then gently eased Casā legs off his own, their weight suddenly a prison instead of a comfort. He needed to get up, to do something to release this terrible energy inside of him.Ā
Ā
āDean,ā Cas repeated, more urgently. He started to sit up, Jack making a disgruntled noise on his chest at the motion.Ā Ā
Ā
āHey, you donāt gottaāā Dean started. Cas reached out and grabbed Deanās arm. Dean froze under the grip, staring at Cas.Ā
Ā
āI do,ā Cas said, gripping Deanās arm tighter. āDean, the burden put on you as a child, it wasnāt fair.āĀ
Ā
Dean tried to yank his arm away, utterly certain he didnāt want to hear anything else Cas was going to say. Cas let his arm go, only to transfer his grip to Deanās hand, wrapping his fingers around it. Dean stiffened, muscles locking up tight, even as his fingers, driven by some instinct he hadnāt realized he had, curled automatically around Casā.Ā
Ā
āDean, listen to me,ā Cas said, as if Dean could do anything else, āYou should not have had to carry the burdens you did, not so young. You were a child, Dean. You should have been free to grow up at your own pace, make mistakes, make your own choices about your life. Some of the blame for that lies with your father, some with my brothers and sisters. But please, Dean,ā Cas squeezed Deanās hand, which had the unfortunate effect of making Deanās gaze jump from the floor to Casā face. It was full of compassion and understanding, the brows tilted gently upward, his mouth soft, and those eyes always so goddamn blue. Dean could lost in that.Ā
Ā
āPlease know it wasnāt fair,ā Cas finished.Ā
Ā
Dean couldnāt move, couldnāt speak past the lump in his throat; he elected to nod mutely instead. Gingerly, he squeezed Casā hand back. Cas eased closer on the couch, folded his leg up to sit a little closer. Dean could feel his heat all along his side, could feel Jackās tiny body nestled between them.Ā
Ā
Dean almost choked on the wanting surging inside him. He wanted to reach out and wrap his arms around Cas, bring him closer until they were occupying the same space. He wanted to tuck his face into Casā neck, resting against his shoulder, and let the world go by for a little while, safe in that darkness. He wanted Jackās little fingers wrapped up in his shirt, his little head resting against Deanās chest, safe and protected in the small space between them.Ā
Ā
Cas squeezed his hand again, bringing Dean back to reality. āDean?āĀ
Ā
Dean nodded again, glancing quickly at Cas before he looked away, thumbing the tears from his eyes. His body was a maelstrom of emotion, swirling and confusing; he felt skinned alive, flayed open completely before Casā eyes. It was uncomfortable but there was also something pure in it, something almost medicinal. As if Cas was lancing the wound and wrapping it tenderly so it can heal without a scar.Ā
Ā
Iām so glad it's you , Dean would say if he could, not entirely sure what he meant by it. I'm so glad.Ā
Ā
āThatās what I want for Jack,ā Cas said, after a long moment, mercifully refraining from asking if Dean was alright. āI want him to be a child. And when heās ready, he can decide what to do with his life, just as any child should. My job is to give him the room to make that choice when he wants to, free of expectation.āĀ
Ā
āAnd you thought you weren't a good dad,ā Dean managed to get out, rough and choked. He made himself meet Casā eyes; he looked surprised, of all things, as if Deanās words had finally managed to make it through. Cas blinked at him, his expression shifting into something abashed and vulnerable and so much better than the misery that had been there before, even in its fragility.Ā
Ā
āThank you, Dean,ā he whispered.Ā
Ā
Dean wanted to grab him, to tell him over and over, until Cas believed him. Youāre good, youāre a good dad, a good person. I donāt care about the things youāve done or the mistakes youāve made. If anyoneās good, itās you.Ā
Ā
But Dean couldnāt speak and in any case, he didnāt know if Cas would let himself hear him; they were too alike in that regard. So he settled for holding Casā hand, a miracle itself, and hoped that was enough.Ā
Ā
_
Ā
The pie, finally cooled, was delicious. Because of course it was.Ā
Ā
āBest in the state,ā Dean said, taking another bite. Jack, his face smeared with pie filling, clearly agreed.Ā
Ā
āYou can take the rest home with you,ā Cas said. His chin was ducked toward the table, his eyes nervously flicking to Deanās and away. Apparently, Dean wasnāt the only one still peeled raw from their conversation. āShare with Sam and Mary.āĀ
Ā
Dean looked at him, looked at Jack, and he promised himself that he would finish this thing. Heād hunt Asmodeus down and heād end the bastard. Only then would his family truly be safe.Ā
Ā
_
Ā
Of course, it was easier said than done.Ā
Ā
Step one was figuring out how to kill the bastard at all. Every yellow eyes had taken all they had to killāthe Colt, the Lance, or Jackās powers. Only one remained and Dean wasnāt letting Jack anywhere near a demon, not even to kill it.Ā
Ā
But Sam had made a suggestion, after Dean had looped him in.Ā
Ā
āWhat about the demon bomb?ā heād asked.Ā
Ā
Dean frowned across the war table at him. āWe still have one of those?āĀ
Ā
āYeah, we buried it somewhere here. That thing fried regular demons. Maybe itāll work on Asmodeus.āĀ
Ā
It meant theyād only have one shot at it, and there was the distinct possibility it might not even work; these types of magic spells always seemed to crap out right when you needed them most. But it was better than anything else they had.Ā
Ā
Which led to step two: find the bastard.Ā
Ā
Lead after lead turned out to be nothing, dead ends and phantoms in the wind. Theyād agreed not to risk any more people than necessary, which left them having to check out every lead themselves rather than passing them onto Samās hunter network. It was grueling work, hours in the car driving to nowhere places with nothing to show for it. But Dean kept at it. Nothing else mattered more.Ā
Ā
He knew, in some distant way, that he was following a path worn well by his dad, many years before. He did his best to ignore it.Ā
Ā
They were in Jonesboro, Arkansas, now, running down a rash of missing persons. Coupled with some mysterious cattle deaths in the surrounding county, Dean had figured it was worth the long drive.Ā
Ā
Dean slotted the car into park outside the warehouse the friends of two the missing people had identified as the place they had picked up some temporary work with a shipping company. The place looked deserted but he knew that there would be a night watchman somewhere inside theyād have to avoid.Ā
Ā
āYou ready?ā he asked. Sam nodded, tucking the demon bomb securely into his bag. They probably wouldnāt need it, but it was better to be prepared.Ā
Ā
They entered the warehouse by a side door, easing it open gently to try and avoid any creaking. They creeped down the hall, Dean leading the way. It was dark and creepy, as all warehouses were at night. But it didnāt seem like anything out of the ordinary and Dean could feel his eagerness for the hunt waning.Ā
Ā
āHey,ā Sam whispered behind. Dean glanced back to see him studying a nearby doorway, his flashlight fixed on the ground.Ā
Ā
āWhat is it?ā Dean asked, keeping an eye down the hallway.Ā
Ā
āSulfur,ā Sam said, crouching down to get a closer look. He looked up at Dean. āA demonās been here.āĀ
Ā
āWell, Iāll be damned,ā Dean said.Ā
Ā
The tension that had been fading sprung back up, full force. Dean put his hand on his gun; heād filled it with devilās trap bullets. It wouldnāt work on Asmodeus, not really, but it would probably startle him enough to give Sam a chance with the bomb.
Ā
They continued down the hallway; it wasnāt long before they heard the sound of voices. They exchanged glances and shifted direction toward them.Ā
Ā
They ended up in a small hallway, looking out into the main loading dock area of the building. There was a group of people standing at the far end, none of whom looked like the night watchman. Which would be, of course, because the night watchman was lying face down in a pool of blood a few yards away.Ā
Ā
These were probably their demons, then. Unless theyād happened to stumble across some warehouse robbery in progress.Ā
Ā
āCan you hear what theyāre saying?ā Dean whispered.Ā
Ā
Sam shook his head. āSomething about power, I think, but I donāt know.āĀ
Ā
Dean sighed, straining to hear. The hosts were all pretty nondescript and he couldnāt see any of the people theyād been looking for among the little group. The most distinct guy was the one talking, some douchebag looking fella head to toe in white; Dean could just barely pick out a southern drawl when he spoke.Ā
Ā
The guy shifted a bit, bringing him into clearer view. Dean froze. The guy had a very distinct scar running over his nose and left cheek. The beard, the long hair, the scarā
Ā
āWhat is it?ā Sam asked.Ā
Ā
Dean shook his head, still peeking around the corner. āI know that guy. The KFC looking guy.āĀ
Ā
Sam raised his brow. āFrom where?āĀ
Ā
āI donāt know,ā Dean whispered and suddenly it fell into place where heād seen him before.Ā
Ā
It had been months now, since the vision Jack had given him. To be honest, Dean had mostly forgotten about it, the details lost and smeared over time as all things were in memory. But he knew that face, heād seen that face then, grinning at him.Ā
Ā
Much as it was grinning now. Dean came back to himself and found himself staring directly into the manās eyes. And he wasnāt the best at reading lips, but he was good enough to be able to pick out his own name.Ā
Ā
āWe gotta get out of here,ā Dean said.Ā
Ā
āWhat?ā Sam asked beside him.Ā
Ā
Before Dean could say anything else, a voice came from behind them. āThat wonāt be necessary,ā it drawled.Ā
Ā
Dean turned, scrabbling for his gun. He brought it up to bear and neatly shot a hole through the guyās head.Ā
Ā
His head rocked back with the force of the shot, but that was all. He rolled his eyes with a sigh, fixing Dean with a disappointed look, even as blood trailed down his face from the wound.Ā
Ā
āNow, thatās just rude,ā he said, and his eyes flashed yellow.Ā
Ā
A part of Dean, the part that lived forever watching his house burn while his mother died screaming, froze in terror. He could hear Sam make a strangled gasp next to him.Ā
Ā
āAsmodeus,ā he said.Ā
Ā
The demon dipped his head in a genteel bow. āGuilty as charged.āĀ
Ā
āWhat do you want?ā Dean asked, still holding the gun on him, for all the good it would do.Ā
Ā
āI believe it was you who wanted so desperately to make an introduction. Dean and Sam Winchester, as I live and breathe,ā Asmodeus said.Ā
Ā
Dean could just see Samās hand inching toward his bag. If he could keep Asmodeus talking, then maybe they had a shot of taking him out, right here and now.Ā
Ā
But Asmodeus was already speaking again. āI apologize for the early departure, but I have things that need attending to. But if youād be so kind,ā he smiled, the scar on his face twisting, āsay hello for me.āĀ
Ā
He was gone, the hallway in front of them stretching empty. Dean whirled; the other demons were also gone, the loading dock empty beside the dead night watchman.Ā
Ā
āWhat the hell was that?ā Dean asked, checking every corner.Ā
Ā
āI donāt know, man,ā Sam said, warily following behind Dean, āBut we better let Crowley know. And try to figure out what the hell they were doing here.āĀ
Ā
āYeah.āĀ
Ā
Crowley was predictably pissed, hanging up on them shortly after Dean told him Asmodeus escaped. Dean sighed and tucked his phone away, noting his legs seemed a little quivery, like heād been running flat out for miles.Ā
Ā
āWhat do you think he meant? Say hello? To who?ā Dean asked.Ā
Ā
Sam sighed, shooting Dean a worried look. Dean could see beads of sweat across his forehead, the tiniest shake in his hands. āI donāt know. But I bet itās nothing good.āĀ
Ā
_
Ā
They spent the rest of the night searching the warehouse and came up with nothing: no clue why Asmodeus had been there, no idea what the demons were planning, squat.Ā
Ā
Dean drove back to the bunker with a knot in his chest, every other breath feeling like a struggle. It was hard to read Asmodeusā comment as anything other than a threat, the question was just who it was meant for? Did Asmodeus know they were working with Crowley?Ā
Ā
Or was it meant for Cas? Had Asmodeus figured out somehow that Dean was seeing him?Ā
Ā
Dean couldnāt see howāheād been careful, beyond careful. He didnāt even have Casā phone number, didnāt even know if he had a phone. The only ones who knew where Cas was were Claire, Sam, and himself. No one else had any idea where he was, or that he had a nephilim with him. Beyond that, the house and property were warded, with Cas constantly touching them up or adding more. Jack never left the house without a ward drawn on his skin or a hex bag jammed in his carrier. Dean just couldnāt see how the demons could have found them.Ā
Ā
But they could have, somehow. Something might have happened to Cas and Jack, while Dean was out here chasing after his own tail. He could picture it in his mind; the front door hanging open, the house empty, wards broken, blood on the walls, the crib destroyed.Ā
Ā
Dean knew there was no hope of him sleeping by the time they reached the bunker. He paced in his room for a few hours, trying to work off the excess energy but he could just feel himself winding tighter and tighter. Eventually, he abandoned his room and headed back toward the garage.Ā
Ā
He stopped when he noticed a light on in the war room; Sam was at the table, hunched over his laptop. He glanced up with a knowing expression when Dean entered.Ā
Ā
āAre you off?ā Sam asked.Ā
Ā
āYeah,ā Dean said. He didnāt need to say where.Ā
Ā
Sam nodded. āDrive safe. Try to sleep at some point.āĀ
Ā
Dean nodded, but he already knew he was going to be busting his ass to get out west as soon as possible. He couldnāt rest until he saw Cas and Jack with his own eyes and the images of catastrophe dancing in his head were put to rest.Ā
Ā
_
Ā
The drive out was exhausting; Dean eventually pulled off the road to grab a few hours of sleep when he got so tired he couldnāt see straight anymore. It wasnāt restful, filled with nightmares and strange sounds and voices. He woke up feeling just as tired as he had when he went to sleep.Ā
Ā
He reached Eureka, turning off the highway into the town proper, following the same path heād followed so many times. It took him a few blocks to realize what the decorations in the store windows and the lawns of houses were for.Ā
Ā
He glanced at his phoneāOctober 31, Halloween. Wonderful. Who knew the kind of creepy shit that was going to crawl out of the woodwork this year.Ā
Ā
Even driving hard, it was still early afternoon by the time he pulled onto Casā street. The neighbourhood had gone all out for Halloween; lawns were littered with styrofoam gravestones and cobwebs, front stoops covered with carved pumpkins. There was a skeleton in a top hat on Casā neighbourās porch and further down the street was some kind of inflatable dinosaur.Ā
Ā
Casā house was much more understatedāa single pumpkin with a grinning face and some bats dangling in the front window.Ā
Ā
Cas opened the door with a harried look on his face. For a horrible moment, Dean thought all his imaginings had come trueāAsmodeus had found them, Jack was gone, kidnapped. But Cas didnāt say anything, just put a finger to his lips in a gesture for Dean to be quiet and gestured him inside.Ā
Ā
Turned out, the bats hanging in the window were not cardboard cutouts, as Dean had assumed, but actual, real-life bats.Ā
Ā
āThey havenāt woken up yet,ā Cas said, staring at them warily, āIām hoping to convince them to fly away and not come back.āĀ
Ā
āHow the hell did they get in here?ā Dean asked.Ā
Ā
Cas looked at him, then looked at Jack. Jack was sitting in his playpen, playing with his blocks with a very satisfied air. Right. Magic baby.Ā
Ā
āWell, you did say you were worried about him feeling like he shouldnāt use his powers,ā Dean said.Ā
Ā
A smile broke out across Casā face. Dean was relieved to see it; heād been so worried about the demons heād barely even thought about their last conversation and how Cas had had a hard time looking at him afterward.Ā
Ā
āI suppose I have brought this on myself,ā Cas said. Dean bumped shoulders with him.Ā
Ā
āRegrets?ā he asked.Ā
Ā
Cas looked at him, that sad undertone creeping back in under his smile. āNone.āĀ
Ā
Which of course wasnāt true; Dean knew Cas had as many regrets as he did. But looking around this perfect little house, at the magic boy playing on the floor, Dean had to figure that Kelly was the biggest one.Ā
Ā
Dean still felt a little wobbly with the relief of seeing Cas and Jack perfectly alright, like his knees might give out at any second. He tried to make it look natural, staying upright long enough to slowly collapse next to Jackās playpen.Ā
Ā
Jack was so absorbed in his toys he didnāt notice Dean until he was sitting on the floor. His eyes snapped to Deanās face, breaking into a massive smile and throwing his hands in the air with a shriek.Ā
Ā
āHey, buddy,ā Dean said. Jack enthusiastically waved his arms up at him. Dean picked up the stuffed bunny that was always glued to Jackās side and started bouncing it around in the air. Jack wobbled to his feet and followed after it, giggling all the while.Ā
Ā
Heād needed this, Dean realized. He could feel himself settling, feel the anxiety and dread that had been dogging his steps for the last few weeks retreating. Playing with Jack, hearing his laughterāDean hadnāt realized how much heād come to rely on the simple joy it gave him.Ā
Ā
He glanced up and noticed Cas sitting on the couch, watching them. That same distant sadness Dean had noted so many times had gathered on his face again, predictable, like the rain clouds rolling in. Dean wished he knew what to do to make it disappear for good, to prevent it from ever coming back. But to do that, heād have to find some way to save Kelly or bring her back from the dead. And there was always a price for that, and it wasnāt one Dean was willing to pay, not if it meant putting Cas or Jack at risk. It was selfish, but it was true. So all Dean could do was try to bring Cas out of it, for as long as he needed to.Ā
Ā
Ā āYou got plans for the night?ā Dean asked.Ā
Ā
Cas nodded. āJack wants to go see the dinosaur the Bashirās put up.āĀ
Ā
So that was what the inflatable thing was down the block. āStill into dinosaurs, huh?āĀ
Ā
āVery much so.ā Cas said seriously, though his eyes were mirthful. āWeāve watched Land Before Time every day this week.ā
Ā
āDude, you showed him that? Doesnāt Littlefootās mom, yāknowāā Dean trailed off, dragging his thumb across his throat.Ā
Ā
Cas shot him a dark look. āYes. Itās surprisingly difficult to find childrenās media that doesnāt include parental death.ā
Ā
Dean shrugged; there was a reason heād stuck with Looney Tunes and Scooby-Doo as a kid. Heād found that absurdity was better than reality a lot of the time, and a hell of a lot more comforting.Ā
Ā
Dean finally let Jack catch up with the bunny, laughing as Jack snatched it to his chest. The movement unbalanced Jack a little bit, making him stagger on his feet. Dean reached out hurriedly, putting his hands on either side of Jack to steady him. Which meant that when Jack threw himself against Deanās chest, Dean had no choice but to wrap his arms around him to catch him.Ā
Ā
It was the first time Dean had really held Jack. Heād helped around the house, picking up toys, selecting books to read, cleaning up after snack time, but heād only let himself go so far when it came to Jack. Feeling Jack fall asleep beside him on the couch was hard enough, poking at some fragile place within; the thought of actually holding him was unimaginable. It wasnāt Deanās place.Ā
Ā
And here he was, Jackās tiny body pressed against his chest. He was so small; infinitely fragile, even knowing the power he carried. He leaned into Dean, laying his head on Deanās shoulder with a soft sigh. Dean had to blink hard against the heat in his eyes.Ā
Ā
āYeah, I missed you too,ā he whispered.Ā
Ā
āWe were about to have dinner,ā Cas said from behind them. He was watching them from the couch, that same sad smile on his lips.Ā
Ā
āSure,ā Dean said, awkwardly craning his neck so he could hold Jack and look at Cas at the same time. Jack seemed content to stay where he was, leaning further and further into Deanās chest. Dean hoped Cas didnāt mind; heād never suggested Dean hold Jack before, had rarely pushed Dean to be more active with Jack aside from that time with one time with the bedtime story. But Cas didnāt say anything, just kept watching them.Ā
Ā
āDo you want to feed him?ā Cas asked.Ā
Ā
Dean froze. Well, that answered one question. āI donātāI donāt know, manāā
Ā
Cas actually had the gall to roll his eyes, fixing Dean with a fondly exasperated look. āDean, youāve seen me feed him a dozen times. You know what he likes.āĀ
Ā
āIāokay,ā Dean said, unsure what else he could say. Itās not like feeding a baby was hard; heād mastered it when he was four. He looked down at Jack. āYou wanna eat?ā
Ā
Jack gave an enthusiastic shriek, directly into Deanās ear. Dean winched at the volume, distantly hearing Casā chuckle behind them.Ā
Ā
āTake it thatās a yes.ā
Ā
Dean ended up carrying Jack into the kitchen, the kid refusing to release his hold on Dean until he was being placed in his highchair. His little arms around Deanās neck forcibly brought him back to his own childhood, carting a tiny Sam around in his arms, Deanās four year old legs stumbling under the weight.Ā
Ā
Dean had to clear his throat when he put Jack down, emotion surging and choking him.Ā
Ā
āGood job, kid,ā he said, ruffling Jackās hair. Jack babbled happily and slapped his hands on the chair tray.Ā
Ā
Cas had disappeared somewhere in the house, leaving the two of them alone in the kitchen. Dean rifled through the cabinets and rustled up the ingredients for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, giving Jack his half cut up in little squares. Crusts off, because Dean had tried to force a baby Sam to eat them enough times to know that bread crusts were one of the worst things in the world to give a kid. He also cut up a banana, putting the slices into a little plastic bowl he put on Jackās tray.Ā
Ā
āHowās that?ā he asked. Jack didnāt bother answering, his mouth full and his hands already smeared with peanut butter and bits of banana. Dean took a seat and tucked into his own half of the sandwich.Ā
Ā
Cas came back into the kitchen from wherever heād been, a mess of yellow and black fabric in his hands.Ā
Ā
āJackās costume,ā he said in response to Deanās curious frown.Ā
Ā
āAnd whatās yours?ā Dean asked, looking him over. Heād changedāheād been in his sweater-dad look when heād opened the door but now he was wearing some baggy beige monstrosity Dean couldnāt figure out.Ā
Ā
āIām a beekeeper,ā Cas said, spreading his arms. The costume seemed to expand, surrounding him in a beige cloud. The look was completed with a wide brimmed hat Cas donned, pulling the net down over his face.Ā āisnāt it obvious?ā
Ā
Jackās costume, it turned out, was a bee. The fuzzy costume looked massive on Jack, making him look like a black and yellow striped blob with tiny plastic wings that happened to have a babyās face poking out the top. Cas patiently talked him into putting on the little cap with antenna, which Jack allowed to be strapped on with poor grace.Ā
Ā
āYou gotta get a photo of this,ā Dean said, trying not to laugh out loud. They posed in front of the stained glass window, the fading light giving Casā costume a bit of color. They looked happy, Dean thought, although Jack was already picking at the strap of his cap. Cas looked about fit to burst, smiling widely into the camera, obvious even through the netting.Ā
Ā
āDo you have a costume?ā Cas asked.Ā
Ā
Dean gestured down at himself, wearing his usual outfit of flannel and denim. āYouāre looking at it.āĀ
Ā
Cas shot him a scoffing look. āThatās not a costume, Dean.ā
Ā
āOkay, then Iām dressed up as Sam, if he had a reasonable haircut,ā Dean said with a shrug.Ā
Ā
āDean.āĀ
Ā
āWhat? I donāt really have anything else.ā Heād left in such a hurry heād just grabbed the same duffle bag heād taken with him out to Arkansas, dirty clothes and all. Though, actuallyā
Ā
āI think I have a monkey suit,ā he said.Ā
Ā
Casā expression turned thoughtful. āThat might work.ā
Ā
Dean headed back out to the car, grabbed his suit and hurriedly changed in the bathroom. He studied himself in the mirror. It was just a normal black suit and white shirt combo, nothing special. The shirt was a little wrinkled and he had to keep adjusting the jacket so it covered the ketchup stain on the chest, but it was passable. If he threw his sunglasses on, he could probably look like he was supposed to be from Men in Black or something, although then heād have to live with being that douchebag wearing sunglasses at night.Ā
Ā
He left the bathroom, found Cas and Jack sitting on the couch in the living room, Jack flopping around on his back. He wasnāt getting very far; he was almost completely round in his costume.Ā
Ā
Dean came to a stop in front of them, striking a pose with his fingers folded to make the shape of a gun. āHowās that?āĀ
Ā
āVery impressive,ā Cas said, smiling indulgently. Jack even clapped his hands together in excitement, squirming on his back so he could see Dean.Ā
Ā
āI might offer one suggestion, though,ā Cas said, an oddly nervous look on his face. He leaned over and grabbed a something from the other end of the couch, hesitating before holding it out to Dean.Ā
Ā
Dean recognized it immediately; it was Casā trench coat, folded neatly in a bundle. Heād figured Cas had gotten rid of it when he ditched the whole outfit, throwing it away never to be seen again. Dean had found himself missing it from time to time; as much as Cas rocked the dad outfits, Dean had a special fondness for the trench and suit look.Ā
Ā
āItāll be cold tonight,ā Cas said, bringing Deanās eyes back to his face. There was a faint smile lingering on Casā lips, but Dean could see the hesitancy in his eyes.Ā
Ā
āSure,ā Dean said and took the coat. āThanks, Cas.āĀ
Ā
He shrugged into the coat easily; it had always been a little over-sized on Cas so it fit pretty okay on Dean, though the sleeves were a little short on him.Ā
Ā
āYāknow, the lookās not quite complete,ā Dean said, shooting Cas a grin as he took off his tie. Cas laughed when Dean flipped it around, sliding it back on so it was backwards.Ā
Ā
āNo oneās going to know what you are,ā Cas said. He stood, taking a step closer to help Dean straighten his collar. Dean could feel the heat of his fingers through the fabric.Ā
Ā
Dean grinned at him, slipping his hands into the coatās pockets. Cas hadnāt cleaned out the pockets when heād retired the coat; he could feel little scraps of paper, receipts, the odd coin Dean knew heād stuffed in there himself once upon a time.Ā
Ā
āThatās okay,ā he said, looking into Casā eyes. He was close, so close Dean could swear he could feel his breath, escaping from Casā lungs into his own. āWeāll know.āĀ
Ā
_
Ā
Walking around the neighborhood was fun, if a little awkward. Halloween had never meant anything good to Dean growing up; it usually just meant a night looking after Sammy, who would complain the whole night through that they werenāt allowed to go trick or treating like the normal kids, or it meant a hunt with Dad because the creepy crawlies always got more active around that time of year. And it also meant the anniversary of Momās death, the day their normal lives ended was right around the corner. It had been hard to get into the festive spirit, knowing that.Ā
Ā
The closest heād ever gotten to a normal Halloween had been with Lisa and Ben. He remembered helping Ben make that wendigo mask, evenings spent in the garage together trying to get it just right. Theyād almost gotten away with it too, but Lisa had looked at it with something fearful in her eyes before asking Ben if he didnāt want to dress as a pirate instead. Dean hadnāt thought about it beforehand, that something that seemed fun for Ben would be scary to Lisa, the one whoād seen a monster take the likeness of her son. Luckily, Ben was obsessed with the Pirates of the Caribbean movies then and was just as happy to go out as a knock off Jack Sparrow, same as five other kids on his block.Ā
Ā
Dean had joined them for a little bit, out of costume and out of place. It had been a few months since Sam had gone into the cage at that point and Dean was still a mess most days. With the anniversary of Momās death right around the corner, he hadnāt been able to handle being out for too long. He stayed just long enough to walk the length of the street with them, eyeing each neighbour and passing family for black eyes, before turning back to the house.Ā
Ā
It was different this yearāSam was safe, Mom was alive. Cas was beside him instead of winging off somewhere in the universe, presumably never to see Dean again.Ā
Ā
But in some ways, it was the same. Cas and Jack were known in the neighbourhood, with neighbours stopping to say hello, waving, and making faces at Jack to make him laugh. Cas knew these people; he asked about their health, about their families, had clearly spent time with them. Dean could place a few of them, having seen them in passing over his previous visitsāLenny and his dog (both currently dressed up as tacos for some reason) from around the corner, the Vuongs from a few houses down. But most people didnāt know him at all, looking at him curiously. Probably wondering what the hell he was doing here with Cas and Jack, trying to make it look like he actually belonged.Ā
Ā
But Cas had a story already in place, one he trotted out so seamlessly, Dean knew he must have thought it up beforehand.Ā
Ā
āThis is my brother, Dean,ā Cas said in response to those curious looks and each time Dean would have to grit out a smile and shake the hand offered to him.Ā
Ā
He knew it was his own damn fault; it had been the cover story heād used when heād first shown up in town looking for Cas. He couldnāt fault Cas for running with it.Ā
Ā
It had always been safer, anyway, to think of Cas as a brother. To ignore the way looking at him sometimes made Deanās heart pound in his chest, to bury all those times heād lain awake at night thinking about him. It didnāt give him anything, to think about how he could feel his heart breaking every time he lost Cas, the despair and grief cutting him anew, no matter how many times it had happened before. It didnāt give him anything to obsess over those moments heād gotten to touch Cas, to linger on those moments theyād stand so close Dean would barely have to move to hold him.Ā
Ā
He didnāt always know the best way to express himself and sometimes he got lost in it all, but he wasnāt stupid. He knew damn well what he felt for Cas, had for a long time; it was nowhere even close to the realm of brotherly.Ā
Ā
But Dean was a coward. He hadnāt been able to say it back in that crypt, all those years ago with the words screaming in his mind and clogging his throat. He hadnāt been able to say it when he was facing annihilation and Amara. As if words like need and brother were anything close to what he wanted to say.Ā
Ā
There would be no point in saying anything about it. Cas didnāt feel the same way; the last thing he needed, on top of raising a child and dealing with his own grief for Kelly, was to have to manage Deanās own inappropriate feelings. It didnāt matter how close they stood, or how Cas somehow managed to look handsome in his stupid costume, or how much Dean had wanted to kiss him back at the house. Cas was out now, one foot fully in a normal life. If the only room in that life for a broken down old hunter like Dean was as a brother, then heād take it and heād be damn grateful.Ā
Ā
They wandered around door to door for a couple of hours, until Jackās little bag was weighed down with candy and the sun was starting to lower toward the horizon. Dean spent those hours hyper-alert, staring around every corner, muttering Christo under his breath whenever they passed a group of people. He noticed Cas was just as focused, glancing over his shoulder, jerking his head around at every sharp movement. Dean wondered, again, if he should tell Cas about Asmodeus, warn him about their encounter, his mysterious words. But this Cas, watchful and wary, was Cas already on his guard. Dean didnāt see how it would help for Cas to know that another demon may or may not have threatened him.Ā
Ā
It was a weak defence and Dean knew it. But he just couldnāt bear to bring it up, not while Jack was clearly having fun and Cas was already so stressed.Ā
Ā
Jack put up a fuss when Cas said it was time to go home, making those little whining noises he made when he was working himself up to a big cry. Dean reached over and rubbed his fuzzy hat, making the antennas wiggle.Ā
Ā
āRelax, kid, itāll be better when youāre older and you can stay out after dark.ā
Ā
That didnāt seem to make Jack feel better, but he did slump against Casā chest with a dejected sigh rather than burst into tears, so Dean would jot it down as a win. It also made Cas smile, losing the hunted edge to his face.Ā Ā
Ā
āHow about we go see the dinosaur again, huh?ā Dean said, nudging Cas with his elbow. āItāll make him feel better.āĀ
Ā
Cas nodded. āI agree.āĀ
Ā
They swung by the dinosaur on the way back, now lit up in anticipation of full darkness. Dean figured it might be a local Halloween attraction, judging by the crowd it had drawn. Or maybe people just liked lights; Jack certainly seemed to, staring in awe until Dean noticed his eyes started to blink open more and more slowly.Ā
Ā
āHome, I think,ā Cas murmured.Ā
Ā
Dean rifled through the candy bag on the way back, unwrapping a Mars bar and popping it into his mouth. Jack pouted sleepily at him from his perch against Casā shoulder.Ā
Ā
āRelax,ā Dean said, āthereās still plenty left. Besides, you just started mastering fruit, I think candyās a bit beyond you. Maybe wait til next year.ā
Ā
They arrived back at the house and Cas started Jackās bedtime routine. Dean changed back into his own clothes, hanging the trench coat by the door. He quietly cleaned up in the living room and the kitchen, listening to the soft tone of Casā voice in the nursery. He was so distracted with putting dishes away he didnāt notice Cas in the doorway until he called his name.Ā
Ā
āJack wants to say goodnight to you,ā Cas said. He was still wearing his beekeeper outfit, rustling with every step he took back down the hall.Ā
Ā
Jack was wrapped up securely in his crib, wearing his favorite dinosaur onesie and curled around his bunny.Ā
Ā
āYou have a good night, kid?ā Dean asked, leaning on his elbows over the crib. Jack made a sleepy noise, waving his fist in the air.Ā
Ā
Dean caught it gently, let Jack wrap his fingers around Deanās index finger. āYeah, me too,ā he said. āBut you gotta sleep, okay? Then tomorrow you can have a piece of candy. If Daddy says you can.āĀ
Ā
He looked up at Cas, hanging back in the doorway. For a second he thought Casā eyes had a watery sheen to them, but he figured it must just be the light reflecting off them.Ā
Ā
Jack mumbled something, his eyes sliding shut. Dean laid his little hand down and backed out of the room.Ā
Ā
āI should probably get back on the road,ā he said to Cas in the hallway. Heād already stayed longer than heād meant to. He wasnāt honestly sure what heād intended when he drove out here; heād been so out of his mind with panic, all he could think about was getting here at all.Ā
Ā
āItās late,ā Cas said, looking at him uncertainly. He was standing close to Dean, lowering his voice to a whisper so as not to disturb Jack. Dean could feel his heat again, like a moth to flame, touch his skin to Casā.Ā
Ā
āNah, I should go,ā Dean said.Ā
Ā
Cas nodded, something reluctant in his expression. āThank you for coming. Jack had a good time.ā He paused. His tongue darted out to wet his lips; Dean felt his eyes follow it.Ā
Ā
āWe both did,ā Cas finished. His eyes were very blue; Dean seemed to realize it anew every time he saw Cas.
Ā
Dean needed to get the hell out of here, he realized distantly, before he did something so stupid heād regret it for the rest of his life.Ā
Ā
āYeah, me too.ā He turned and headed for the door, slipping into his coat.Ā
Ā
āDean,ā Cas said; he held out a bag of candy. āJack canāt actually eat any of this yet. He wonāt notice.āĀ
Ā
āHell, I aināt gonna bring it up,ā Dean said. He took the bag, putting it on the passenger seat within easy reach, tossing his suit into the back in a pile. Cas stood in the open doorway, lifting his hand in farewell as Dean drove away. Dean couldnāt stop himself from glancing back at him, only stopping when he reached the corner and had to turn.Ā
Ā
He wanted to get back to the bunker, restart the search for Asmodeus. They had to be better prepared next time, not let the bastard get the drop on them. Then he could come back and see Cas and Jack again.Ā
Ā
It was a long haul, so he stopped at a gas station just out of town to fill up, picking his way through the candy as the tank filled. Casā neighbors gave out pretty good shit; there were even a few full sized chocolate bars in the mix. Dean was impressed, taking a big bite out of a Snickers.Ā
Ā
The gas station was mostly empty; it being a Wednesday night, there werenāt many people on the road aside from locals heading home. He was probably the only person from out of state in the entire place.Ā
Ā
The pump clunked and Dean headed inside to pay. It was the place heād first found Cas in, all those months ago, he finally realized. The attendant was the same person heād talked to then, though she apparently didnāt remember him, judging from the bored look on her face as she rang him up.Ā
Ā
Dean took his time heading back to the car, getting back into the driverās seat. He wasnāt looking forward to the long drive home, hours spent in the dark, leashing the part of himself heād let out tonight.Ā
Ā
Heād made a mistake, letting himself acknowledge, even just briefly, the way he felt for Cas. He shouldnātāve thought about what he did, let himself look at Cas like that. It wasnāt right; Cas didnāt feel the same way, he was mourning someone he loved. Dean had no right to be thinking what he was, to be looking at his friend like that, to be reading into Casā actions. He needed to put it all away; some time gone should let him bury it again and then heād be okay. Cas didnāt have to know.Ā
Ā
He pulled out his phone, checking the time. He could make it to Nevada tonight if he drove hard, but he probably wouldnāt make it much further before he had to stop for the night.Ā
Ā
He hesitated for a long moment, telling himself he shouldnāt. Then he pulled up the gallery on his phone.Ā
Ā
The pictures heād taken earlier popped onto the screenābee and beekeeper, smiling in the kitchen in the fading light. Cas had insisted on at least one photo with all three of them before they headed out. Dean wasnāt very good at selfies, but it wasnāt too badāDeanās face was large in the foreground, doing his best Cas frown, Cas behind him holding Jack up so it looked like he was perching on Deanās shoulder.Ā
Ā
Dean flicked to the next one and knew immediately it was going to be his favorite. It was Cas and Jack in the kitchen. Cas had paused between shots to lift the netting of his hat and press a kiss to Jackās forehead. Dean had taken the picture right as Jack squealed with laughter, all chubby cheeks and squeezed shut eyes.Ā
Ā
There was a life Dean could just see, the view covered in grime and muck, just beyond the horizon. A life where Dean got to stay and watch Jack grow up. Where Dean got to be there when he said his first word, when he had his first slice of pizza. A life where Dean got to show Jack his favorite movies, hear about his day at school, teach him how to drive. A life where he didnāt leave at the end of the night, his memory foam mattress waiting for him in the loft upstairs.Ā
Ā
It didnāt look like the life heād wanted, once upon a time. Cas wasnāt his wife and wouldnāt ever think of him in the way Dean wanted him to. Jack wasnāt his biological child. He didnāt even know if Cas wanted him to try and fill that kind of role. But Dean knew what he wanted and it felt like waking up from a long sleep, wiping the dust from his eyes and really seeing .Ā Ā
Ā
He wanted to turn around, go back into town, and spend the night. He wanted to not leave the next morning. He wanted to play with Jack, watch some cartoons with him, help Cas attempt to make another pie and make fun of him if it turned out bad. He even wanted all the awkward moments when Dean couldnāt quite manage to keep his longing to himself, when it spilled over into long looks and stifled touches because at least that meant Cas was in reach, even if Dean could never cross that distance. He wanted it all, so badly he could taste it.Ā
Ā
He should be used to it by now, wanting what he couldnāt have. It still hit like a blow.Ā
Ā
Dean sighed, putting his phone away. He started the car and had just reached the edge of the lot, waiting to make a right turn, when he heard the sirens.Ā
Ā
A firetruck rushed by, heading back into town. Traffic had just started moving again when two more whizzed by, sirens screaming in the night.Ā
Ā
Dean watched them go, a feeling of dread pooling in his gut. He noticed the other people at the gas station glancing at each other before going back to their business. He should do the same, he knew. Heād bothered Cas and Jack enough for one night.Ā
Ā
He hesitated and made a left turn back into town. He could still faintly hear the trucks somewhere ahead of him as he did so, taking the familiar route back to Casā house.Ā
Ā
His dread grew deeper, the closer he got. By the time he was a few turns away, he could see the smoke billowing into the sky. By the next turn, he could see the light of the flames glowing in the night. By the next, he could smell the smoke coming in through the car vents.Ā
Ā
He pulled to a stop on the corner of Casā street, staring at the light of the fire trucks further down. He hurriedly put the car into park and leapt out, running down the street.Ā
Ā
The neighbors were all crowded around on the road, staring up at the inferno burning where Casā house had once stood. Fire fighters were strewn around, trying to douse the flames before they spread to another property. The house was done for, Dean could tell; theyād be lucky if there was anything left.Ā
Ā
He spotted a paramedicās van parked next to the fire trucks, but he could only see paramedics milling around. No Cas, no Jack.Ā
Ā
Dread twisted inside him, crawling up his throat, choking him. He grabbed the person nearest him, someone he didnāt recognize. āDid anyone come out?āĀ
Ā
āI donāt know,ā the guy said, staring at Dean, āI just got here.āĀ
Ā
āDean?ā Another voice asked, one that sounded vaguely familiar. It was Mrs Bashir, the one with the glowing dinosaur, waving her hand at him through the crowd. He vaguely remembered meeting her and her wife on their second go around before they headed home.Ā
Ā
He shoved his way through the crowd to her.Ā
Ā
āI thought it was you,ā she said. She seized his hand. āOh, my dear.āĀ
Ā
āWhat happened?ā Dean asked, turning to look back at the house. The fire crackled and spat, hungrily consuming everything in its path. He could hear the glass of the windows shattering in the heat. Cas would be devastated about the stained glass window; he was always staring at it with a peaceful expression.Ā
Ā
He vaguely noticed Mrs Bashir was dragging him forward, to distracted by the flames to think much of it. He only cottoned on when they were practically at the fire truck.Ā
Ā
āThey were wondering how many people were inside,ā she said, āWe said three, butāāĀ
Ā
āNo, I-I went to go get some things,ā Dean said. They were wondering how many people were inside, they didnāt know for sureāmaybe that meant Cas and Jack werenāt here. Maybe theyād managed to fly away before the fire got too bad. Or maybe it just meant the firefighters hadnāt found them yet.Ā
Ā
The thought almost buckled Deanās knees.Ā
Ā
Things started to go a bit hazy. He knew the firefighters were asking him questionsāwho was inside the house, where would they have been locatedābut Dean could barely hear his own voice providing the answers. All he could see were the flames.Ā
Ā
āYouāre sure there was only Mr Jepsen and the baby inside? No one else?āĀ
Ā
The question cut through the fog. āYeah, why?ā Dean asked.Ā
Ā
The firefighter shook his head. āSome of the neighbours mentioned seeing a few other people through the window. They said there was some kind of altercation, yelling, then the explosion happened. We think it might have been a gas leak that started it but it seems odd.ā He looked at Dean, something shrewd in his expression. āThe police are going to want to talk to you.āĀ
Ā
That brought Dean back to reality. An altercation, yelling, an explosion. Knowing who was involved, that sounded like something supernatural. Something or someone had caught up to them here, demon or angel, Dean wasnāt certain. The explosion though, that sounded angelic. Maybe Cas had managed to skewer one of the dicks before he escaped. Or maybe CasāĀ
Ā
Dean suddenly couldnāt breathe. It took all he had to nod to the firefighter, waiting until heād disappeared looking for an officer for Dean to talk to before Dean slipped away into the crowd. There was no reason to stay and every reason not toāit had been a long time since Dean was an actively wanted man but he didnāt want to take any chances, especially when he didnāt have his FBI badge on him.Ā
Ā
There were two possibilities here, Dean thought, convincing himself to keep breathing. Either Cas and Jack had escaped, in which case theyād find nothing in the house, or they hadnāt. Maybe Cas had triggered the explosion to cover their escape, some trap heād sent up along with the wards. Or maybe that was Cas burning out back there, his grace fueling the fire.Ā
Ā
The thought drove the air from his chest; Dean raced back to the Impala, dropping into the driverās seat with a strangled gasp. No, it couldnāt end like this. He couldnāt accept that Cas was dead, Jack maybe with him. He wouldnāt accept that, not unless it was confirmed beyond any shred of a doubt. Until then, Cas and Jack were alive and they needed his help.Ā
Ā
Dean got out of town as fast he could without drawing attention to himself. The neighbors would know what his car looked like and no innocent person had a reason to flee a fire; he knew he would have just jumped to the top of copsā list of suspects as soon as he drove away. He pulled over on a deserted side road near the docks. He didnāt want the cops to find him and although he knew it would be fairly easy to get lost in the woods around here he also didnāt want to stumble onto some gangās grow-op and get himself shot either.Ā
Ā
Heād been praying non-stop, leaning over the steering wheel to stay upright at every stop light. He could feel every breath rattle in his lungs, harsh exhales reverberating in the car. His prayers and thoughts were mixing together until he couldnāt tell the difference between the two, just a very ending litany of please please please .Ā
Ā
He tried to get his breathing under control, to bring some sense of order to his thoughts, and did the only thing he could think of: he called Sam.Ā
Ā
Dean almost lost his mind, waiting as the line rang. Two rings passed like an eternity and Dean was seized with the sudden certainty Sam would not pick up and Dean would be left with zero options.Ā
Ā
Heād never been more thankful to be wrong, Samās voice coming on the line after the third ring.Ā
Ā
āHey, Dean, whatās up?ā He sounded loose, relaxed, like heād been having a good night.Ā
Ā
āSam,ā Dean said, the only thing he could say. His voice was ragged and raw.Ā
Ā
Samās tone immediately sharpened, taking on that in-control quality Dean desperately needed to hear. āWhatās wrong?āĀ
Ā
āItāsāā Dean had to gasp for a breath over the crushing sensation in his chest. āItās Cas and-and Jack, something happened.ā
Ā
āWhat? Dean, what happened?ā
Ā
Dean gasped another breath. āI donāt know, man, there was some kind of fight or something and now the house is on fire andāI donāt know where they are, I donāt know where they are, Iāā
Ā
Dean leaned over the steering wheel, digging his forehead into the leather with a groan. āI left them, Sammy. I left them.ā
Ā
The one thing he was never supposed to do, abandon his family, and heād left them, all because he was too weak to deal with his own stupid emotions. He never should have left them. Or he never should have come back in the first place.Ā
Ā
He knew, suddenly, with utter certainty, that this was his fault. Asmodeus. It must have been. Heād followed Dean somehow, magic or something else, heād followed Dean and he had led that bastard right to Cas and Jack.Ā
Ā
Oh god. All this time heād been worried about turning into his father and heād become his mother instead.Ā
Ā
Images started to churn together in his mindāJack and Cas, yes, but further back too: Cas looking up at him from the floor, his face bloody, his hand on Deanās sleeve; Cas looking over his shoulder, apologizing, in front of a swirling portal; Cas looking at him over a ring of flames telling him to run. And over it all, his dad pressing Sam into his arms while his mother burned screaming in the other room, yelling for him to take Sammy and run, go Dean go! Ā
Ā
āDean!ā Sam shouted in his ear. Dean came back to himself, hands clenched on the steering wheel and the phone, breathing fast, his heart pounding.Ā
Ā
āDean, are you there?ā Sam asked.Ā
Ā
āMm-hm,ā Dean managed to say.Ā
Ā
āOh, thank god,ā Sam breathed. āI need you to calm down, okay? Take some breaths.ā
Ā
Dean focused, trying to pull himself together. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing his breath in and out in deliberate intervals. He didnāt have time to fall apart like this, he castigated himself. Cas and Jack were in danger, the least he could do was keep his shit together.Ā
Ā
āIām here, Sammy,ā he said, finally. He sounded steadily, at least marginally.Ā
Ā
āOkay, good,ā Sam said, obviously relieved. āNow, explain what happened. What do you mean Jack and Cas are gone?ā
Ā
āI mean, theyāre gone, Sam!ā Dean exclaimed, āthe house is literally on fire!ā
Ā
āOn fire?āĀ
Ā
āYeah, there was, I donāt know, an explosion, they said. I justāI left and when I came back the place was up in flames and no one knew where Cas and Jack were.āĀ
Ā
Sam was silent for a long moment. āYou donāt thinkā¦ā
Ā
āNo, Sam. I donāt, I canāt.ā Dean took a breath. āCas isnāt dead. Heātheyāre out there, somewhere. I know they are.ā
Ā
Sam sighed. āWith his wings, he could be anywhere. And weāve got no way of tracking them.ā
Ā
It felt like being back where they started when Jack had been born. No idea where they were, if Cas was alright or what on earth was happening to him. And now Jack was embroiled in that mess too
Ā
āWhat the hell are we going to do, Sam?ā Dean asked, his voice breaking. A few years back, Dean would not have asked that question easily. He was the older brother, he was supposed to protect Sam, have a game plan, not the other way around, no matter how much Sam didnāt like it. But this was his brother, his family, and Sam always knew what to do.Ā
Ā
Sam sighed, deeply. When he spoke, his voice was no-nonsense, absolutely controlled.Ā
Ā
āThereās no sense in you staying there. Cas could be anywhere, he might not even be on this continent anymore. Do you think you can drive back?ā
Ā
āYeah, I can do that.ā Dean was exhausted and wired. He wanted to find Cas, he needed to start the search; the thought of sitting in a car, even one cruising down the highway as fast as he could go, was awful, disgusting in its uselessness.
Ā
There was a long beat of silence over the phone; Dean realized Eileen was probably there and Sam was explaining what was going on.Ā Ā
Ā
āSam?ā he asked.Ā
Ā
āMomās in Utah,ā Sam said aloud. āIām gonna tell her whatās going on, get her to meet you.ā
Ā
Dean closed his eyes, pressing his head into the steering wheel hard. āNo, Sammy, you donāt have to do that.ā
Ā
āWell, weāve already texted her, so.ā
Ā
Dean sighed. āFine.ā
Ā
āIāll see you soon, okay? Iām gonna start looking for any omens, any signs at all. Iāll even call Crowley, see if heās heard anything.ā Sam paused, then continued in a softer tone. āWeāll find them. We will.ā
He sounded so certain, so absolutely sure, like his words could shape reality. Dean swallowed. āThanks, Sammy. Call if you find anything, okay?ā
Ā
āYeah, I will.ā
Ā
Dean started up the car again, getting onto the highway and flooring it. He drove in a haze for hours, passing over the Nevada border without even realizing it until he was an hour past Reno.Ā
Ā
It was all too muchāCas and Jack in the wind, maybe hurt, maybe captured, maybe dead. If Dean thought about it too much, it made his chest go tight, his vision blurry. Cas would tear him a new one if he knew he was driving like this, he thought suddenly with a manic laugh.Ā
Ā
Their house was gone, their little house. The house Cas had made for Jack, where heād bathed him and fed him and loved him. That sanctuary, complete with bare walls, stained glass, and the worldās most uncomfortable pull-out couch. All gone.Ā
Ā
Their life in that place had been sweet and peaceful, made that way through hard work and love. And now it was gone, destroyed in a moment. They didnāt deserve that. Where would they go, now? Where would Jack grow up, where would be safe for him?Ā
Ā
Dammit, Cas, where the hell are you? Ā
_
Ā
Dean prayed to Cas, on and off, all night. He was half-convinced he even prayed in his dreams, crammed in the back of the car somewhere just across the Utah border. He called Sam as soon as he woke up.Ā
Ā
There hadnāt been any good news during the night. Sam had no clues so far. No omens, no signs, other than the big storm that suddenly rolled into Northern California as Dean was driving out, something that hadnāt been predicted and had people buzzing on the radio. But other than that, nothing at all, nothing that gave any clue as to where Cas and Jack were. Crowley didnāt have anything either, though apparently he had some choice words that Sam didnāt bother to repeat to Dean.Ā
Ā
āHeās pissed,ā Sam had said over the phone. Dean had looked at the rising sun, just starting to peak over the horizon.Ā
Ā
āYeah, he can join the club.āĀ
Ā
Mom met up with him early, outside a little restaurant, one of those fabricated boxes just off the side of the highway. She hugged him as soon as he got out of the car. Dean hugged her back and they stayed there for a long while, just holding on.Ā
Ā
āYou drove all night?ā she asked.Ā
Ā
Dean nodded, silently, his nose digging into her shoulder.Ā
Ā
āYou must be exhausted. Do you want to stop and eat?ā
Ā
Dean shook his head. He had to get back to the bunker as soon as he could. At least Cas could find him there.Ā
Ā
āOkay,ā Mom said, pushing him back to look at his face. She brushed her thumb over his cheek, forcing a smile. āIāll get us something to go and weāll get back on the road.ā
Ā
Dean nodded, leaning back on the car and watching her head inside. He waited about twenty minutes, watching the other cars go by, his mind curiously blank.Ā
Ā
Mom came back, styrofoam containers and cups in hand. She set them down on the roof of the car and held out her palm expectantly. āGive me your keys.ā
Ā
āWhat?ā
Ā
āIāll drive us back. Give me your keys.ā
Ā
āWhat about your car?ā Dean asked, glancing across at the mostly empty parking lot.Ā
Ā
Mom shook her head. āDonāt worry about it; I have a friend in the area, heāll drive it back.ā
Ā
Dean was usually ravenous for any details about Momās life: who was this friend? How had they met, did they know each other well? But he was tired and he was hungry and he just wanted to go back to the only home he had. So he got back in the car on the passenger side, mutely accepting the food.Ā
Ā
He managed a few bites of his food before his stomach twisted up too much to eat more. He stuck with coffee after that, nursing it until his stomach behaved.Ā
Ā
āDid Sam tell you what happened?ā he asked.Ā
Ā
āYeah,ā Mom said. He could see her glance at him out of the corner of his eye. āDo you want to talk about it?ā
Ā
āIāā he sighed, hating how his breath trembled on itās way out. He looked at her again. She looked tired, deep bags under her eyes. And there was something deeply weary lingering in her eyes. He realized it was a new day now, November 1. Tomorrow would be the anniversary of the night they lost everything, that Mom died and their house burned and Sam was given a burden heād never manage to fully put down. Sheād dropped everything to come and get him, like he was a teenager whoād gotten in something stupid over his head. And Dean was going to put all this on her too?Ā
Ā
āNah,ā he said, turning back to face the window.Ā
Ā
Mom reached out and put her hand on Deanās arm. āOkay. Weāll figure it out. Just try to get some sleep right now, okay?ā
Ā
āOkay.āĀ
Ā
Dean leaned his head against the window glass, the cool touch refreshing to his fever-bright mind. He just couldnāt stop his thoughts from racing, around and around, endlessly pursuing him. He kept thinking about the night before, the way Jack had leapt into his arms, playing a little trick to get Dean to hold him. That undercurrent of sadness in Casā eyes, even as he smiled at Dean and Jack.Ā
Ā
The photo of Kelly would be gone now, he thought. Burned up in the fire, along with everything else they owned. The knowledge almost brought Dean to tears. At least theyād had photos of Mom, the ones Dad had kept at work. Jack and Cas wouldnāt even have that.Ā
Ā
Dean squeezed his eyes shut, prayed, Cas, if you can hear me ā
Ā
His phone vibrated in his pocket. He dug it out, expecting it to be Sam, but it was a text from an unknown number. Dean almost put his phone away before he saw the text preview.Ā
Ā
It said simply, weāre fine
Ā
Dean stared at him, unlocking his phone to bring up the text history. Heād never received a text from the number before.Ā
Ā
Who is this? He texted back. He waited and waited, staring at the phone, willing something to happen. He could see Mom glancing at him curiously, but he just kept staring.Ā
Ā
Just as he was about to give up on a response, another text came in. Weāre fine , it said again, promise .Ā
Ā
Dean hesitated, then dialed the unknown number, a wild suspicion in his chest. The number rang out to voicemail. By the time Dean lowered the phone, another text had come in.Ā
Ā
Canāt talk now, busy. Weāre FINE. It was followed by a string of emojis: an angel, a baby, a running guy, and a whole row of grinning devil faces.Ā
Ā
āDean?ā Mom asked, glancing at him. āWhat is it?āĀ
Ā
āItās-itās Cas,ā Dean said, hardly able to believe it. āHe and Jack are alright, but theyāre running from demons.āĀ
Ā
where r u , Dean texted back, his fingers going so fast he had to go back and fix it multiple times.Ā
Ā
There was another long pause, no response. Deanās stomach started to sink, staring at the blank phone screen. What if the demons had caught up with Cas before he could reply? What if Cas had taken a moment to respond to Dean, trying to reassure him, and that was when a demon got the drop on him?Ā
Ā
Dean tried not to crumple over in the passenger seat.Ā
Ā
where r u , Dean texted sent agan.Ā
Ā
Dean waited, staring at his phone, but no reply came. He brought the phone up to his lips, holding the top edge against his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut.Ā
Ā
Be safe , he prayed. Please be safe . He had to hope Cas was still out there somewhere, listening.Ā
Ā
_
Ā
Days passed with only the occasional text from Cas, terse and to the point. Dean read everyone over and over, trying to glimpse something, anything, past the few words Cas was sending. He learned not to send things like where are you and is the kid okay and come to the bunker, as those kinds of texts always resulted in long, harrowing, silences.Ā
Ā
It must be Asmodeus, it had to be. Another yellow eyed demon coming after Deanās family. The same yellowed eyed demon Dean had just run into. Say hello for me , Asmodeus had said. Dean thought he understood what he meant now.Ā
Ā
It all added to the feeling boiling inside him, the one he hadnāt been able to shake since the fire. This was his fault, he just knew it. No way it was a coincidence, the demons finding Cas just after Dean had finally laid eyes on Asmodeus. He should have known better than to go to Cas after that. He shouldnāt have gone to visit, no matter how worried he was, should have kept hunting Asmodeus until he was dead on the ground and Cas and Jack were safe, even if it had taken years. If heād done that, theyād still have home.Ā
Ā
By day, he researched and researched, desperate to find something that could help. By night, he stared at his phone in the dark of his room, willing it to ring or chime with a text. And he wanted to drink desperately, drink until he forgot everything, everything heād ever done to the people he loved. But he didnāt dare, not even at night, because what if Cas called him, needing help, and Dean was too drunk to go to him? He couldnāt risk it; he wouldnāt fail Cas, not again.Ā
Ā
About a week after the house burned, all communication from Cas stopped. Dean prayed and prayed, even got down on his knees, but nothing came. Cas had been caught, Dean realized. The demons had caught up with him, they had taken Jack and Cas was dead because he had to be for Jack to be taken at all; heād never let a demon lay a finger on Jack otherwise.Ā
Ā
The others accepted the news of lost contact stoically, Sam and Mom exchanging worried glances.Ā
Ā
āIt doesnāt necessarily mean anything,ā Sam said, carefully, āhe might just be busy.āĀ
Ā
Dean swallowed and didnāt say anything. He obediently sat at the table for the rest of the night helping with research and then went to cook dinner for everyone. The bunker was busy these days, all hands on deck to help with the search. When they werenāt researching, they were out checking out omens looking for leads; theyād even roped in Jody and Claire to help them, checking out leads out west.
Ā
They were all still fighting; if Cas was still out there, he was fighting too. Heād never give up.Ā
Ā
And even if Cas wasnātāthe thought knocked the breath from Deanās lungs but he had to acknowledge itāJack was. Asmodeus wanted him alive. Jack wasnāt safe, he wasnāt unharmed, but heād be alive. Dean would find him and heād protect him, if it was the last thing he did.Ā
Ā
Dean got down on his knees again that night, folding his hands in prayer. He stayed down there for a long time; he wasnāt sure if he actually ended up praying anything, slumped on his knees, head bowed. But he stayed there, silent and begging, until he crawled exhausted into bed.Ā
Ā
_
Ā
Dean was in the car, driving into Smith Center to grab a pizza. Everyone was back at the bunker, Charlie and Sam arguing over whether they should put on Lord of the Rings or Wonder Woman, Cas huddled up with Claire and Mom by the mess of the board game still strewn across the table. Dean wanted to be back before Jody and Bobby arrived; he knew theyād be hungry after a long day on the road.Ā
Ā
He pulled into the pizza joint, throwing the car into park. The passenger side door opened and Cas climbed in.Ā
Ā
āThought you were back at home?ā Dean asked.Ā
Ā
Cas looked at him for a long moment. His face was dirty, streaked with smoke and blood. He looked like heād just come out of a warzone. And in his armsā
Ā
Jack looked up at Dean, his face screwed up, a breath away from tears. Dean immediately reached over, cupping his palm against his cheek, trying to rub the smoke away. Jack felt real, warm and alive under Deanās hand. They both looked real, exhausted and windswept and awful, still in the same onesie heād been wearing when Dean had left that night, but real.Ā
Ā
Dean opened his mouth to speak but Cas reached between them and covered it with his hand before he could.Ā
Ā
āDonāt say my name,ā he whispered, āsomeone might be listening.ā
Ā
Which was an incredibly disturbing thought, but Dean had had his dreams invaded one too many times to ever think his mind was secure. But that meantāit had to meanāthat they were really here. They were alive and they were here, taking shelter in Deanās dream.Ā
Ā
Casā hand eased away from his face, his eyes boring into Deanās. Dean nodded and Cas sat back in his seat, slumping against the door of the car.Ā
Ā
āAre you okay?ā Dean asked.
Ā
Casā gaze softened, glancing from Dean to Jack. āYes. For now.āĀ
Ā
Jack whined, a little sob escaping as he buried his head in Casā shoulder. Dean couldnāt help himself; he reached out and put his hand on the back of Jackās head. Jack sobbed again, tears squeezing down his cheeks making tracks through the smoke.Ā
Ā
With each tiny sound, Cas seemed closer to tears himself, dampness gathering along his lash line. Dean didnāt know if heād ever seen Cas cry.Ā
Ā
He brought his other hand up, putting it on Casā cheek, turning him to look at Dean. Casā face was wrecked, absolute devastation clear in every line.Ā
Ā
āHey, hey,ā Dean whispered. He acted on instinct, curling his arm, pulling Cas closer until he was held against Deanās chest, Jack pressed between.Ā
Ā
āItās gonna be okay,ā Dean said into his hair, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He was wearing the trenchcoat, Dean realized; he must have grabbed it from the peg at the door. He could feel Casā fingers curling in his jacket. āItās gonna be okay.āĀ
Ā
āI was supposed to protect him,ā Cas said into his shoulder, voice rough as gravel.Ā
Ā
āHey, you did,ā Dean said, āhe wouldnāt be here if you hadnāt.āĀ
Ā
āHeās exhausted.Ā We havenāt been able to stop for more than a moment. Heās not used to it.ā Dean could feel Casā fingers tighten in his jacket. āHe shouldnāt have to be used to it.ā
Ā
Dean remembered that, the exhaustion that came with being constantly on the move, remembered being small and not able to understand why Daddy wouldnāt let them stay in one place longer than a week, even when the places were awful. Too young to understand why they couldnāt go home and see Mommy, just knowing that Mommy and the house were gone and that if he asked Daddy about it again it would just make him cry. Heād learned to stop asking and then heād learned to stop talking altogether.Ā
Ā
āWeāre gonna fix this,ā Dean swore, an oath whispered fiercely into Casā ear. āWe will.āĀ
Ā
Cas drew back a few inches, his hand still wrapped up in Deanās jacket, Deanās arm sliding down his shoulder. He still looked devastated.Ā
Ā
āI canāt drag you into this,ā he said.Ā
Ā
āYouāre not dragging me into anything. I want to help,ā Dean said.Ā
Ā
āYou canāt, Dean. This foe is beyond you.āĀ
Ā
Dean felt his stomach twist up in knots. āItās Asmodeus, isnāt it.āĀ
Ā
Cas squinted at him, sudden suspicion in his face. āHow do you know that name?āĀ
Ā
āIāā Dean looked up at the roof of the car, guilt welling up and taking away his words. But Cas deserved to know. āI shouldāve told you.ā
Ā
Cas was staring at him. āTold me what?ā
Ā
Dean swallowed, closing his eyes in shame. āThis is my fault, Cas. I knew Asmodeus was looking for; weāve been helping Crowley search for him for the past year.ā
Ā
Unseen, Cas sighed. āDean, I knew Asmodeus was out thereāā
Ā
Dean shook his head, opening his eyes to look at Cas. Casā face, even bloody and dirty, had gone soft. He was trying to reassure him, when Dean was the reason his son didnāt have a home.Ā
Ā
āWe ran into him,ā Dean said.Ā
Ā
Cas sat bolt upright, eyes wide and tense. āWhat?ā
Ā
āRight before I saw you,ā Dean admitted. āWeād been searching for him, but that was the first we saw him. We ran into him and...he must have followed me or something. I led him right to you.āĀ
Ā
Dean hung his head, shame choking him. āIām sorry.āĀ
Ā
A hand landed on his arm, a warm weight squeezing gently. āDean, you canāt know thatās what happened.āĀ
Ā
Dean shook his head. āNo, I do know, I do know that.āĀ
Ā
āDean, look at me,ā Cas said, waiting until Dean met his eyes before he continued. āItās just as possible that they found us another way. Maybe my wards failed or a demon spotted me and Jack. Thereās no way to know for sure.ā
Ā
āCas, I know what happenedāā
Ā
Casā grip tightened, shaking his arm. āDean,ā he snapped, āstop trying to make this your fault. It doesnāt matter how the demons found us. What matters is dealing with them.āĀ
Ā
Dean swallowed his guilt, smarting from the rebuke. Cas was right, though; Deanās feelings in all this didnāt matter. Heād screwed up, failed his family, just like he always did. Now it was time to move on and solve the problem.Ā
Ā
āWhat are you going to do?ā he asked.Ā
Ā
Cas seemed to relax a bit, his stare turning down a notch or two. āKeep running. Until I find somewhere safe.āĀ
Ā
āCould you fight them?āĀ
Ā
Cas sighed. āThereās no guarantee I would win. Even with my grace whole, I was never powerful enough to face a Prince of Hell. With the Colt destroyedāā
Ā
āWe donāt need the Colt,ā Dean interjected.Ā
Ā
Cas frowned. āWe donāt?āĀ
Ā
āWe still have one of the demon bombs, that Kevin made. If we use that, wonāt that take him out.āĀ
Ā
Cas looked at him consideringly. āIt might. But it might not.āĀ
Ā
āBut isnāt it worth a shot?āĀ
Ā
Cas hesitated, then shook his head reluctantly. āI canāt risk a confrontation, not unless I know I can best him. Thereās too much at stake.āĀ
Ā
āOkay, fine. But at least come to the bunker. Itās the safest place there is,ā Dean said. He didnāt like to think he was begging, but he was, he knew he was. Heād get down on his knees if he had to, cling to Cas until he came home with home. Anything to get the two of them safe.
Ā
But Cas shook his head. āItās too obvious. If what you tell me is true, then the demons know about the connection between us. Theyāre probably watching you and the bunker, waiting for us to arrive. With the demons this close, it wouldnāt be safe.ā
Ā
āScrew safe, we can handle it,ā Dean said.Ā
Ā
āDean,ā Cas glared at him, hard, āI wonāt risk you, any of you. The only reason I came was to let you know that weāre okay. Thatās all.āĀ
Ā
Dean looked away, feeling the words like a slap across the face. He knew that heād fucked up, leading Asmodeus to them, but it hurt to hear Cas say it, for him to confirm how much he couldnāt trust Dean now.Ā
Ā
āSo you keep running,ā Dean said, flatly.Ā
Ā
Cas nodded. āFor as long as necessary.ā
Ā
Dean looked back at him, his face dirty and bloody and dear. His gaze dropped to Jack; his tears had dried, the tracks running clear through the dirt, his little face twisted with more misery and exhaustion than a baby should be able to carry.Ā
Ā
āYou canāt keep it up forever. Look at you, look at Jack.āĀ
Ā
Cas rested his hand on Jackās head. The kid sighed deeply, sagging underneath the touch.Ā
Ā
āWeāll have to,ā Cas said. He looked at Dean for a long moment, something unreadable in his eyes. āStay safe, Dean.āĀ
Ā
Dean woke up and laid there staring at the ceiling for a long, long time. It was still early, early enough the sun hadnāt yet risen. Cas would be long gone by now, winging somewhere else across the globe, far beyond Deanās reach. All Dean had was his phone, clutched in his hand, the hope that heād drop into another of Deanās dreams at some point, and the remembered feeling of two of them in his arms.Ā Ā
Ā
It wasnāt enough. Dean couldnāt accept that this was how it ended, Cas and Jack helpless on the run with the rest of them sidelined, just waiting to hear the news of something gone horribly wrong. Or maybe hearing nothing while years passed, left only with uncertainty and doubt to keep them company in the long nights to come.Ā
Ā
This was on Dean. He wasnāt foolish enough to think otherwise, no matter whatever Cas said to try and spare his feelings. Dean didnāt always have the best track record but he liked to think that he did his best to fix his mistakes.Ā
Ā
He wouldnāt let Cas do this on his own. Dean was done waiting.Ā
_Ā
Ā
āSo, he wants to go it alone,ā Sam said. He sighed and put his head in his hands.Ā
Ā
āYeah, pretty much,ā Dean said. Heād found Sam slumped over the table in the war room when he finally pried himself out of his bed, clearly having been there all night. Sam had roused at the scent of fresh coffee and here they were.Ā
Ā
Sam sighed again, loud and long. āHeās so fucking stubborn.ā
Ā
Dean snorted. āYou can say that again.ā
Ā
āSo what do we do? Just sit on our hands and wait?ā
Ā
āHell, no.ā
Ā
Sam looked up at him. āThen what?ā
Ā
Dean leaned forward on his elbows. āWay I see it, we got two options. One, we sit on our asses and let Cas stay in the wind and who knows what happens. Twoāā
Ā
āWe go on the offensive,ā Sam finished.Ā
Ā
Dean pointed at him. āBingo.ā
Ā Ā
āAnd what does that mean, exactly?ā Sam asked.Ā
Ā
āCas said demons were probably keeping an eye on us, casing the bunker or something.ā A thought that made Deanās skin crawl, but at least it could come in useful. āI saw, we set a trap.ā
Ā
Sam stared at him āHow?ā
Ā
āTheyāre looking for Jack, right? Angel activity? There must be some way we can make it seem like theyāre here.ā
Ā
Sam looked thoughtful. āThat...might work, if we can swing it. Okay, so we make it look like Jackās here. We can set up devilās traps, booby traps, whatever.ā Sam looked at Dean. āYou know Asmodeus is gonna show.ā
Ā
Dean grinned sharply. āThatās the idea.ā
Ā
_
Ā
Dean explained the plan, such as it was, to Eileen and Mom the next morning when they rolled in from their latest leadāa bust, just like all the others.Ā
Ā
āIām not expecting anything here,ā Dean finished with, āSam and I, we know what weāre getting into. But you donātāā
Ā
Eileen was already waving her hands to get Dean to shut up before heād gotten halfway through the sentence.Ā
Ā
āYou guys always keep all the good stuff to yourself,ā she said, with that spark in her eye that had told Dean right from the beginning that she was a keeper. āYou know Iām in.ā
Ā
Beside her, Mom nodded. Her expression was nervous and determined, a little smile quirked on her lips. āMe too. You know I love killing demons.ā
Ā
Dean exchanged glances with Sam. This was almost too easy; heād expected at least some kind of protest, or an insistence on clearing up the plan first before they did anything else.Ā
Ā
āGuysāā
Ā
āDean,ā Mom said, leaning toward him across the table, looking at him earnestly. āIf we do this, get the demons off their back, give that kid a chance to have a life?ā She shook her head. āThatās worth it.ā
Ā
Eileen nodded. āWhat she said.ā
Ā
Crowley, wonder of wonders, was also on board.
Ā
āAbout time you two decided to do something about this,ā he said, voice droll over the phone.
Ā
āFuck off, Crowley,ā Dean said, rolling his eyes. āYou gonna help or not?ā
Ā
Crowley snorted. āYou need something to bait the trap, correct? I believe I can do that.ā
Ā
He refused to explain further until a few days later, appearing outside the bunkerās front door with a jauntily raised eyebrow. Seemed the prospect of the death of the last Prince of Hell had put him in a good mood. Dean could relate.Ā
Ā
āOne bait, right here,ā Crowley said, placing a metal flask in Deanās hand.Ā
Ā
āWhatās this?ā Dean asked, his fingers going to the lid.
Ā
āDonāt open it, Crowley hissed, slapping his fingers away. āThat bottle is warded but it's useless once you open it.ā
Ā
āAnd?ā Sam prompted.Ā
Ā
Crowley rolled his eyes. āItās angel grace. A few years old, but the wards have kept it intact.ā
Ā
āAngel grace?ā Sam asked, exchanging glances with Dean. āWhere the hell did you get it? And why?ā
Ā
āNever you mind that,ā Crowley said with a smarmy grin. āOld plans and safeties, nothing that matters now. But heās looking for angel grace, correct? I suspect this will do the trick.ā
Ā
āDo you think heād sense it? When we open it?ā Dean asked.
Ā
āDepends how close an eye heās keeping,ā Crowley said, consideringly. āYour average demon may not.ā
Ā
āWait a minute,ā Sam said, āI think I have something that might help, something the Men of Letters had. Mitch showed it to me; they picked it up from a witch when they were clearing a coven stateside. He said the witch was using it to boost her powers, that it amplified her magic.ā
Ā
Dean glanced down at the grace bottle. āYou thinkāā
Ā
Sam shrugged. āYeah, it might. Itās worth a shot at least.āĀ
Ā
āYouād best be sure,ā Crowley warned, casting a dark glance at the grace bottle. āAngels are in short supply these days. One shot is all you might get.āĀ
Ā
_
Ā
All in all, it didnāt take a whole lot of time to prepare. The bunker was well-stocked. Guns were loaded with devilās trap bullets, Super soakers filled with holy water, bags of salt placed at convenient points throughout the bunker. The plan was vague, as all their best plans seemed to be. Open the bottle of grace, boost it, and wait for the demons to roll in. Then theyād just have to keep them coming until Asmodeus arrived, at which point they could blow the bomb. Easy peesy.Ā
Ā
There were a million things that could go wrong of course, but Dean was choosing not to focus on those. Instead, heād decided to try and focus on the outcome that he wanted. Speak his reality, or whatever.Ā
Ā
After they killed Asmodeus, Cas and Jack could be safe again. They could find another house somewhere; it wouldnāt replace the one theyād lost, but Dean was sure Cas would turn it into a real home. And then Jack could grow up and not have to spend his childhood looking over his shoulder.Ā
Ā
It was the only gift Dean could give them, the only way he could make up for what heād done. He had to fix this.Ā
Ā
Sam stopped beside Dean, his arms full of bags of salt. Dean was leaning on the war room table, staring at his phone.Ā
Ā
āYou heard anything from him?ā Sam asked.Ā
Ā
āNo,ā Dean said. Cas had been quiet since the night of the dream. Dean wondered if Cas had meant that dream as some kind of goodbye, just like last time. Our paths are diverging. Ā
Ā
Well, yeah, maybe. But at least Dean was going to do something this time and not just sit on his ass.Ā
Ā
Sam was still watching him as Dean tucked his phone away in his jeans.Ā
Ā
āYou sure about this? Not telling him?ā he asked.Ā
Ā
Dean nodded. āNo point setting a trap for Asmodeus with fake Cas and Jack if we just drag them right into the fight.āĀ
Ā
āYeah,ā Sam sighed.Ā
Ā
Mom came back into the room, coming up further in the bunker.Ā
Ā
āHow are we looking?ā Dean asked.Ā
Ā
āSeems okay,ā she said. āWeāve laid enough salt lines and traps that if anything comes in through those hallways, theyāll be stuck. Eileenās still finishing up in the dungeon.ā
Ā
It was a long shot, Dean knew that, even with all the traps in the world, there was a big chance they didnāt come out of this in one piece. But they had home advantage. The bunker was a fucking rabbit warren; it had taken Dean weeks before he felt like heād grasped the layout of the place. The demons wouldnāt know what to expect, which meant they were already ahead in the grand scheme of things. With the bomb in hand, they might actually have a chance of pulling this off.Ā
Ā
Dean couldnāt stop himself from checking his phone again. Heād sent Cas a text hours ago, the first heād dared to send since the dream, simply asking u okay? It wasnāt what Dean really wanted to say. Heād agonized over that text this morning, wondering what he could say that would be safe, that wouldnāt make Cas come running, wouldnāt clue him into the plan. Dean wasnāt stupid enough to think that their plan would go off without a hitch. He knew there was a not so small chance that something went horribly wrong and Dean ended up demon-induced paste on the floor. It made him want to say goodbye, say something, to Cas, to Jack, before whatever happened happened.Ā
Ā
But Dean had missed plenty of chances over the years. Either said the wrong thing or said nothing at all. This time wasnāt going to be anything different. He could live with that, if they were safe.Ā
Ā
Eileen came back into the room, dusting salt off her hands.Ā
Ā
āAll ready,ā she said. She came to stand next to Sam, who put his arm around her in a motion that had clearly become automatic.Ā
Ā
āWe going to do this?ā Mom asked.Ā
Ā
Dean looked around at the four of them, all turned toward him with expectant faces, gathered here for a common goal. Eileen had never tangled with a demon of this calibre before and the rest of them had each been destroyed in their own way by a yellow eyed demon. They all had reasons to be afraid, to back out. But Dean could see the determination shining in their faces and he knew in that moment that they were going to pull this thing off.Ā Ā
Ā
āYeah,ā Dean said. For Cas. For Jack. āLetās kick it in the ass.āĀ
Ā
_
Ā
The power-booster thing that the Men of Letters had given Sam didnāt look like much. Dean wasnāt sure what it was made of, but it reminded Dean a little of a large ball of elastic bands, wrapped around each other until they formed a perfect sphere.Ā
Ā
Sam placed it carefully on the war room table. Dean pulled out the flask of grace and a small bowl and put them down next to the sphere.Ā
Ā
He wondered briefly whose grace it was; Crowley had said heād gotten it years ago, maybe even before the Fall. Dean wondered if heād ever met the unlucky bastard. He wondered if Cas had known whoever it was and figured he probably did. Cas always seemed to know every angel they ran into through that sixth sense of his. Heād probably recognize it even now, stuffed into a bottle rather than a human vessel.Ā
Ā
Cas wouldnāt like what they were doing here, Dean knew that. The fact that they were burning up the grace of one of his siblings to do it was just the icing on the cake.Ā
Ā
Dean exchanged glances with Sam, Mom, and Eileen. Eileen had the demon knife in hand, held in a loose, slashing grip, clearly ready to use it. Mom had super soakers slung about her chest, a gun with devilās trap bullets in her holster and her Enochian brass knuckles adorning her hand; she looked like anti-demon Rambo, Dean thought with an internal laugh.Ā
Ā
Sam had a gun and the bomb, tugged into his shoulder bag. The plan, such as it was, meant the others would distract Asmodeus in any way they could, giving Sam the opportunity to set it off. Then theyād be home free, four for four on Princes of Hell.Ā
Ā
Dean gave them all one last look, meeting the grim nods and determined gazes with his own. Then, he uncapped the flask, upending it over the bowl.Ā
Ā
He wasnāt totally sure what to expect; he remembered Annaās grace from all those years ago, kept safe in that tiny vial, turning into a blinding river of light as soon as it was let loose. This grace poured out slowly from the flask, viscous and thick like tar with blurry edges, hard to look at. It glowed so brightly Dean had to squint his eyes against the glare, forcing them open to make sure the grace actually ended up in the bowl.Ā
Ā
It swirled like a living thing in the bowl, edges creeping up the sides periodically as if looking for a way to escape. But the bowl was warded; the grace had nowhere to go.Ā
Ā
Nothing happened for a long moment, long enough that Dean worried that theyād got something wrong, that the whole plan was dead in the water before theyād even started.Ā
Ā
Then the grace started to glow, brighter than before. Each minute it got a bit brighter, until it was like theyād captured a piece of the sun in that bowl, shining out like a beacon.Ā
Ā
Dean and Sam stayed beside the table while Mom and Eileen secreted themselves in their predetermined positions around the room. They made themselves wait, Dean doing his best to watch the corners and the entryways for incoming demons. A few minutes was all they could risk, theyād agreed. A few minutes to attract the demonsā attention; hopefully that would be enough. Leave it any longer, Sam had said, and the grace would blow out, probably taking the bunker and all of them with it.Ā
Ā
They waited, the grace glowing brighter and brighter and finally Sam reached out and grabbed the little spell sphere, pulling it away. The grace stopped glowing so brightly, receding to its original level. Dean blinked spots out of his eyes in time to see someone appear just behind Sam.Ā
Ā
āSam,ā he barked; Sam was already whirling around, a handful of salt forcing the demon back with a hiss.Ā
Ā
The other demons appeared just as silently; Dean counted five before he had to dodge a blow.Ā
Ā
Dean quickly realized this was amateur hour, the first wave of disposable demons Asmodeus had sent it. Dean had the upper hand within a minute, tackling the demon to the ground and stabbing him with an angel blade. He looked up to see Mom bashing another demon in the face with her brass knuckles in time for Eileen to finish it off with the demon knife.Ā
Ā
Soon, they were standing in an empty room littered with demon bodies. But it was only a matter of time, he knew, before reinforcements came.Ā
Ā
Sure enough, another five demons appeared within seconds, one appearing right beside Dean already in the middle of a swing. Dean ducked and came up behind him, the angel blade taking care of the rest.Ā
Ā
None of the demons flooding in really posed a problem for any of them, they were weak and unskilled and they went down easy. But Dean could see Asmodeusā strategy here; send in the disposable soldiers to waste time and energy, so that he showed his ugly face, he was fresh to the fight while they were already tired.Ā
Ā
Dean took down another demon, his impatience making the strike more vicious than heād intended. He glanced around the room, checking on the others, and saw a new face by the doorway from the library, staring out over the carnage.Ā
Ā
Looked like Asmodeus had finally decided to grace them with his presence.Ā
Ā
Dean cursed, digging for the remote in his pocket. They only had a bit of time before Asmodeus realized heād been played and then heād be gone in the wind again and this all would have been pointless.Ā
Ā
His fingers closed around it; he pressed the play button by feel. Samās voice boomed out over the speakers theyād put around the bunker, the pre-recorded exorcism starting. All the minion demons started to shriek, some falling to their knees or slapping their hands over their ears.Ā
Ā
Asmodeus alone seemed unaffected; his yellow eyes glared down at Dean from the steps, terrible knowledge settling on his face.Ā
Ā
āThe nephilim isnāt here, is he?ā he said, descending the stairs.Ā
Ā
Dean grinned nastily. āTake a wild guess.ā
Ā
Asmodeus sighed, straightening the cuffs on his ridiculous white suit. āIād hoped not to have to deal with you directly. But I suppose I should have known better.ā
Ā
āWhat, you scared?ā Dean goaded.Ā
Ā
Asmodeus shot him a dark look. āHardly. I just have better things to do.ā
Ā
Sam had made good use of Deanās distraction; Asmodeus had been so focused on Dean, he hadnāt even noticed Sam grabbing it out of his bag. His eyes only tracked to the Sam when he threw the thing at the ground.Ā
Ā
The bomb exploded, a wave of light and holy fire flashing through the room. The demons trapped in the exorcism were immediately roasted, screaming and going up in flames, disappearing into nothing. Asmodeus threw up a hand, flinching away from the wave, shielding his face with his arm. Dean could see the spell burn into his vessel, the edges of that pure white suit crisping and smoking. When Asmodeus lowered his arm, there were burns all along it and across his face, blood trickling from his nose and ears.Ā
Ā
But he was still there, still standing, still glaring at Dean and Sam with murder in his eyes.Ā
Ā
Shit. The bomb hadnāt worked. Their best chance and theyād blown it.Ā
Ā
Asmodeus threw up his hand and Sam went flying across the room, slamming into the map table.Ā
Ā
āSam!ā Dean shouted. Dean had just about brought his gun up to bear when Asmodeus threw him as well. He smashed into the wall, hitting hard and lumping down to the floor. His vision wobbled for a second, but he could still see clearly enough to watch Mom leap forward, stabbing an angel blade into Asmodeusā back. He screamed, whirling to backhand her across the room. He turned straight into the demon knife; Eileen jabbed it into his gut, twisting it on the way out.Ā
Ā
Asmodeus screamed again, the noise like a physical wave. His eyes were blazing yellow, his lips curled in a bloody snarl.Ā
Ā
They were hurting him, Dean realized, more than they had been able to hurt Ramiel with the same weapons. Maybe the demon bomb hadnāt killed him outright, but it had wounded him, apparently pretty severely. Maybe they didnāt need another heavy hitter like Michaelās lance; if they kept at it long enough, maybe they could take him down like this, like wolves bringing down a moose.Ā
Ā
Dean could see the same thought occurring to Sam; he could also see the abject terror on Samās face when Asmodeus seized Eileen by the throat.Ā
Ā
Eileen was a scrapper; she barely even panicked, hardly even blinked at the sudden lack of air. She stabbed him again, catching him in the meat of his arm. He shouted with pain, his hand opening automatically and dropping Eileen to the ground.Ā
Ā
He recoiled a step, which gave Dean the space he needed to shoot.Ā
Ā
The bullet caught Asmodeus in the chest, rocking him back a step. He looked down at the bloody hole in his chest, fixing Dean with a glare.Ā
Ā
āEnough of this,ā he said, taking a step forward. Deanās stomach sank; he could see that it was harder for Asmodeus, like he was walking through a strong tide. But he was still walking, which meant the devilās trap bullet hadnāt been totally effective.Ā
Ā
Asmodeus curled his hand into a fist and Dean felt something break inside him. He couldnāt tell what it was, but it was bad, judging by the unending wall of pain that ripped through him. He was on the ground but didnāt remember getting there, everything gone except for the wail of pain through his body. It was all he could do to twist slightly to the side so he wouldnāt choke on the blood in his mouth.Ā
Ā
The room went in and out of focus. He could vaguely see Asmodeusā shoes advancing toward him, hear Sam shouting his name. Everything started to run together: the noise of battle, angry yelling, a crashing sound like something splintering. His vision came in flashes, glimpses of objects and faces and blood, there was so much blood around him.Ā
Ā
He was dying, he realized distantly. He was dying.Ā
Ā
A pair of shoes appeared before his eyes. He managed to turn his head, heaving his eyes open to look up. Asmodeus stood above him, staring down at him contemptuously.Ā
Ā
āI thought you might be a bit more impressive,ā he mused, ābut youāre only human, in the end.āĀ
Ā
Dean stared up at him; the demon seemed to take up the whole room. He couldnāt see Sam, or Mom, or Eileen. He could only pray they were alright, that theyād make it through this, even if Dean didnāt.Ā
Ā
He barely noticed the lights flickering or the lightbulbs bursting with sharp pops. He barely heard the thrum of thunder, dimly heard through the bunkerās thick walls. But he did notice the deceptively soft flap of wings and the way Asmodeusā face suddenly sharpened with both fear and desire.Ā
Ā
āYou wonāt touch them,ā Cas growled.Ā
Ā
Dean managed to lift his head from the floor, his body screaming out as he did. Cas stood behind Asmodeus, glaring hard at the demon. As Dean watched, the lights flared, Casā eyes glowing an electric blue. The shadow of his wings, fully formed, stretched across the wall, larger than life.Ā
Ā
āThere you are,ā Asmodeus said; his fear had faded, far outpaced by desire. Dean swiftly understood whyāJack was strapped to Casā chest, secured in a little sling and glaring at Asmodeus with just as much intensity as Cas was.Ā
Ā
God, no. They werenāt supposed to be here, the whole point of this was that they werenāt supposed to be.Ā
Ā
āCas,ā Dean tried to say, but his voice just gurgled in his throat.Ā
Ā
Casā eyes jumped to him, that electric blue still shining out like searchlights in the night. It turned his face into something alien, forbidding. The kind of thing Dean would have been terrified of ten years ago.Ā
Ā
Asmodeus used the moment of broken concentration, leaping forward. There was an angel blade in his hand, suddenly, swinging right for Cas. Dean tried to cry out, but he neednāt have; Cas was already dodging to the side, his own blade meeting Asmodeusā with a harsh clang.Ā
Ā
The fight passed in flashes for Dean, illuminated by the flickering lights and the red emergency lights. He had to fight to keep his eyes open, the lids stubbornly falling shut every other second. But he had to watch, had to see Cas come out of this alright. No other option could be allowed.Ā
Ā
One moment, Asmodeus had Cas on his back foot, a quick slash opening a tear in Casā trenchcoat. The next, Cas was pushing back hard, an upraised hand throwing Asmodeus across the room.Ā
Ā
āYou canāt win this angel,ā Asmodeus said, picking himself up, āgive me the nephilim and Iāll let you live.āĀ
Ā
āKiss my ass,ā Cas snarled.
Ā
Dean realized suddenly that it wasnāt just the way his eyes kept slumping shut that was making the fight seem so disjointed; Cas and Asmodeus were actually disappearing periodically, reappearing to clash blades across the room from where theyād just been standing. They were flying, Dean realized, using their wings to try and get an advantage over each other.Ā
Ā
And Asmodeus was faster, Dean realized with horror, by the smallest margin. He managed to catch Cas on the thigh before Cas could dodge, then landed another blow to Casā shoulder, Cas ducking forward to protect Jack.Ā
Ā
Cas barely seemed to feel it, his face set in a snarl, eyes wide and focused. But Dean could see the trajectory of this fight, now; if Cas didnāt get an advantage, soon, then this would be over.Ā
Ā
Dean writhed desperately, trying to turn. The movement re-ignited the pain in his body; darkness narrowed his vision to a pinprick, the flickering lights making everything look unreal.Ā
Ā
No, no, he couldnāt pass out now. He needed to find his gun and shoot this bastard. The devilās trap bullet had slowed him, not for long, but enough. If Dean could get him again, maybe that would be enough for Cas to get away.Ā
Ā
Run, you stupid bastard , Dean thought as loud as he could, hoping it would get to Cas. Take the kid and go. God, heād been stupid to lure Asmodeus here. Heād been so sure it was the only way, but here Cas and Jack were, right in the path of the hurricane.Ā
Ā
Cas actually snarled, rough and animalistic. āIām ending this,ā he said, his voice thrumming with his grace, shaking the room.Ā
Ā
Asmodeus must have thought Cas was talking to him and smirked back, circling Cas slowly.Ā
Ā
āThe only thing thatās ending is you,ā he said. Who the hell was writing this guyās dialogue anyway?
Ā
Dean felt his eyes slide closed again, fighting to get them back open with every ounce of will he had left. He could see his gun, just a few feet away; an impossible distance, when Dean couldnāt feel his hands anymore.Ā
Ā
His eyes popped open at the crack of a gunshot. He could see Sam, suddenly, standing by the war table, bloody but unbowed, his smoking gun pointed straight at Asmodeus. Asmodeus was bent over, hands on his stomach.Ā
Ā
He glared up at Sam, flinging his hand out to send him thumping back into the table. Was it Deanās imagination, or was the shove weaker than before.Ā
Ā
āStop getting in the way,ā Asmodeus said, right before an angel blade sprouted in his throat.Ā
Ā
Asmodeus choked, blood falling from his mouth, staining his no-longer pristine suit. He dropped the angel blade, scrabbling at the one in his throat.Ā
Ā
āYouāre no archangel,ā he choked out, āyou canāt kill me.āĀ
Ā
Cas leaned in close, placing a palm on Asmodeusā head.Ā
Ā
āIām enough,ā Cas said and his eyes went yellow.
Ā
Dean felt the breath literally stop in his chest. But the shades were different; it wasnāt yellow, it was gold, gold eyes, just the same as the light shining from Jackās eyes.Ā
Ā
They had the same fight face, Dean realized vaguely, watching Asmodeus scream, veins lighting up with gold as he burned from the inside out. In the end, there was barely anything left of him, just a pile of ashes on the floor. Four for four, Dean thought with a grin. Take that, universe.Ā
Ā
Dean let his eyes slide closed. He didnāt have to watch anymore; they were safe and Cas would keep them that way. Dean wasnāt needed anymore.Ā
Ā
A hand clamped down on his left shoulder, bruising. Dean struggled to open his eyes again.
Ā
Cas was glaring down at him, his eyes were blue again, just that normal blue Dean found himself getting lost in so many times.Ā
Ā
Maybe it was okay for Dean to think that now, to say it, here at the end. Suddenly, nothing mattered more than saying it, but only one word came to mind.Ā
Ā
āCas,ā he said; somehow, he managed to lift his hand, bloody and terrible, to hold Casā sleeve. āCas.āĀ
Ā
āDonāt you dare die on me, Dean Winchester,ā Cas said, his eyes going electric blue, and everything disappeared in a wave of light.
_
Ā
When Dean came back to himself, the pain was gone. He felt far away from his body, as if there was a layer between him and itāa fact he knew to be grateful for, considering what little he could feel. But he could breathe again and feel all his limbs. That wasnāt nothing, considering heād been certain he was going to die on the floor.Ā
Ā
It took a long time to be able to open his eyes, his eyelids curiously heavy. A beige ceiling slid into focus. He flicked his eyes around the room; Sam was slumped wearily in a chair next to the bed Dean was lying in. Behind Sam, there was a familiar desk. They were in Deanās room, he realized, his memory foam mattress soft beneath him.Ā
Ā
Dean flicked his eyes back to Sam, blinking slowly. Sam wasnāt looking at him, fiddling with something on his phone with a furrow in his brow. He looked a little banged up still, a cut above his brow, bruises darkening on his face.Ā
Ā
āDid we win?ā Dean asked, his voice rough. Sam straightened with a jerk, looking at Dean with wide eyes.Ā
Ā
āDean?ā he asked.
Ā
āYeah, Iām still here,ā Dean said, clearly his throat roughly. Sam leaned over him, filling Deanās vision with a close up view of his shirt before he sat back, a glass of water now in hand.Ā
Ā
āHere, drink this,ā Sam said.Ā
Ā
Dean struggled up onto an elbow and managed a few swallows before he had to lie back down. The pain that had been lingering on the outer edges of his mind was now very clearly present, gleefully throbbing under his skin.Ā
Ā
āOw,ā he said, weakly.Ā
Ā
Sam snorted. āYeah, I bet. What were you thinking?ā
Ā
Dean shot him a tired glare. āYou did the exact same thing.āĀ
Ā
āYeah, well, at least I didnāt almost die for it,ā Sam said. He was trying to keep his voice light but his eyes were haunted, staring at Dean as if he were a thirsty man seeing water for the first time in days.Ā
Ā
Dean smiled at him, going for an insouciant look. āCāmon, Sam, you thought that guy was gonna take me out? I have some pride, not gonna let myself get killed by Colonel Sanders. I donāt even like KFC.āĀ
Ā
Sam snorted a laugh, looking down at the bed with a smile. His fingers were picking away at the blanket, nervously. āOkay, tough guy. How are you feeling?āĀ
Ā
āLike a demon tried to rip my insides out,ā Dean said with a groan.Ā
Ā
Sam shot him a wry look. āThatās probably because he did try. But everythingās right where it should be now. Cas did what he could, but nuking Asmodeus took a lot out of him. He said he needed a bit to recover before he could fix you all the way.āĀ
Ā
āHeās here?ā Dean asked, a sudden bolt of adrenaline jolting down his spine and almost forcing him upright. He had the sudden urge to leap out of bed, run through the bunker until he could see Cas face to face.Ā
Ā
He remembered what heād been thinking, that instant before heād passed out. The absolute certainty, that kind of speak-now-or-forever-hold-your-peace energy flowing through him, trying to spill words out of his mouth like blood.Ā
Ā
It was gone now, leaving an empty space behind. Or, not empty. Full. Full of all the words, slowly compacting again under the pressure of the ocean of Deanās bullshit, until it was like they were barely there at all.Ā
Ā
Sam shot him a look, something between pitying and exasperated.Ā
Ā
āYeah. I think heās back in the library,ā he said, his expression shifting to something a little more wry, ādude, heās pissed. Ripped us all a new one.āĀ
Ā
Dean would have liked to see that. Knowing Cas, he probably went off as soon as he could, glaring them all down, signing along for Eileen and lecturing them like they were kids while an actual kid was still strapped to his chest, sucking his thumb.Ā
Ā
And with Deanās luck, he was just waiting for Dean to wake up before he started in on him, too.Ā
Ā
āShit,ā Dean muttered.Ā
Ā
āYeah, Iād get ready if I were you,ā Sam said.Ā
Ā
Well, at least it meant heād see Cas soon, even if it was only to have him scream at him. Or worse, looking disappointed at him.Ā
Ā
āHowās everyone else?ā he asked.Ā
Ā
Sam nodded. āWeāre okay, nothing we couldnāt handle. Cas wouldāve healed us too if he could have.āĀ
Ā
Dean hated to think that any of them were still hurting because of him, to think that Cas was so drained that he couldnāt risk healing someone else, that Dean had brought him to that point.
Ā
But a part of him was proud of Cas for taking on someone like a Prince of Hell and coming out on top. That was Cas all over, punching outside of his weight class with a baddie he should never have been able to take on, and coming out on top anyway. Two out of three wasnāt bad when it came to these yellow eyed bastards.Ā
Ā
Dean felt his eyes getting heavy again, the space between blinks getting longer and longer. Sam was talking about something else, maybe clean up or something. Dean could barely understand him, exhaustion pulling him down.
Ā
He suddenly felt a hand on his arm and heaved his eyes back open. Sam was looking down at him, a smile pulling at his lips.Ā
Ā
āIām going to let you sleep, let everyone else know youāre alright.ā He stood.Ā
Ā
Dean reached out, grabbing his arm weakly.Ā
Ā
āTell Cas...ā he started, then trailed off. He didnāt know how to finish that sentence, the words failing him.Ā
Ā
Sam studied him. āIāll tell him you want to see him.ā Which was as true as anything, Dean figured. Trust Sam to know.Ā
Ā
āIām glad youāre okay, man,ā Sam said, giving Dean one last smile before he left the room quietly. Dean tried to keep his eyes open for a few minutes, just to see if he could, but it was a lost cause and he drifted back to sleep.Ā
Ā
_
Ā
Hours seemed to pass, Dean drifting in and out. He didnāt have the energy to do much beyond open his eyes and stare around the room before heād feel weariness pushing his eyes back closed. Once, he managed to sit up and finish the glass of water Sam had left him, which he was quite proud of himself for accomplishing.Ā
Ā
He drifted back to consciousness, the thick tar of sleep pulling at his limbs. There was a weight against his side that hadnāt been there before, warm and moving slightly, bumping against Dean with its motions. Dean blinked his eyes open blearily, glancing down.Ā
Ā
It was Jack, sprawled against him on the bed. The kid was holding his own feet, wiggling to try and bend them to his mouth. He was making soft sounds to himself, little murmurs of half shaped syllables as he pulled at the fabric of his onesie.
Ā
Jack looked different from the dream a few days before. Heād been cleaned up at some point, all the dirt washed away leaving only clean skin behind. He was wearing a different onesie, too, speckled in flying saucers instead of dinosaurs. His bunny toy was tucked into Deanās elbow, he noticed, as if Jack had wanted to give him something to sleep with.Ā
Ā
Dean moved his hand, pressing it against the side of Jackās head. His hair was soft and Dean knew if he could lean over and hold Jack properly, heād be able to smell that clean, sweet, scent that only babies seemed to have.Ā
Ā
Jack cooed up at him; he couldnāt seem to be able to make up his mind between pressing against Deanās hand or against his side. He opted to grab Deanās fingers in his own, rolling into Deanās chest with a little sigh.
Ā
āHey, kid,ā Dean whispered, his voice rough. He could feel his throat start to close up, tears gathering in his eyes.Ā
Ā
Heād honestly thought heād never get this again. Heād thought that dream might have been it, Cas and Jack gone forever, never to be heard from or seen again. Heād only really held Jack one time, one time then he was ripped from Deanās arms forever. He wasnāt sure how he would have lived with that, a sucking wound in his chest. And now Jack was here, pressed against his side as if nothing had happened, peaceful and safe.Ā
Ā
Dean sighed, his breath shuddering on its way out. He heard fabric shifting and glanced to the side. Cas was sitting in the same chair Sam had been in; he didnāt even pretend not to have been watching Dean.Ā
Ā
He looked surprisingly okay, considering he had just been a contender in the prize fight of the decade. His clothes were rumpled; Dean could still see blood streaked across the places Asmodeus had wounded him, tears in the fabric gaping wide. But his face looked fine, free of blood or bruises or dirt, although Dean would swear there were new lines there that he hadnāt seen beforeĀ
Ā
Dean looked away quickly, embarrassed to have been caught in tears like a little kid. There wasnāt any subtle way to hide them, so he ducked his head into his shoulder to wipe them away on his shirt.Ā
Ā
Cas graciously didnāt say anything, looking away toward the door.Ā
Ā
āHow are you?ā he asked after a moment, his voice quiet but toneless.Ā
Ā
Dean cleared his throat, looking back at Cas. Cas was still staring at the open door.Ā
Ā
āFelt better,ā Dean said, āfelt worse. How are you guys?āĀ
Ā
Cas nodded. There was something absent in his expression, remote, like he wasnāt truly in the room with Dean. Dean felt a chill, not knowing what it meant.Ā
Ā
āJackās alright,ā he said.Ā
Ā
The full force of Casā gaze fell on him suddenly, pinning him to the bed. His eyes bored into Dean and Dean wondered that heād ever thought there was anything remote about Casā face; he was wholly present and he was wholly pissed.Ā
Ā
āYouāre an idiot,ā Cas said.Ā
Ā
āCasāā
Ā
āWhat were you thinking?ā The toneless voice was gone. Cas sounded raw, angry, the barest inch away from shouting.Ā
Ā
Dean grit his teeth, trying to hang onto his own temper. āI was thinking we could help.ā
Ā
āHelp by baiting a demon?ā Cas demanded, glaring at him, āby getting yourself killed?āĀ
Ā
āNo one got killed!ā Dean protested.Ā
Ā
āOnly because I showed up,ā Cas hissed, leaning forward in his chair.Ā
Ā
āMinutes, Dean, minutes. That was all you had left. If Iād gotten here just a bit later, if the fight with Asmodeus had lasted a bit longerāā Cas cut himself off, looking away with a furrowed brow. His jaw was so tight he could chew through steel.Ā
Ā
Dean knew Cas wasnāt wrong; heād known, sprawled out there on the floor, how close death was. He wondered if the reaper had been in the room with them by the time Cas had healed him, waiting to take his soul to the Empty, just like Billy had wanted.Ā
Ā
āHowād you know, anyway?ā Dean asked, after an uncomfortable silence. āTo show up?ā
Ā
If anything, Casā frown went tighter.Ā
Ā
āYou prayed to me,ā he growled, voice flat.Ā
Ā
Dean hadnāt thought he had; but by the time Cas had shown up, heād been so loopy from the pain he probably wouldnāt have noticed doing it. He really had no idea what prayer sounded like to angels but he couldnāt imagine Cas had heard anything good.Ā
Ā
āDo you have any idea how much you risked by doing this?ā Cas demanded. āYou all could have been killed.āĀ
Ā
Dean met his glare stubbornly. He knew that; he wasnāt an idiot, no matter what Cas thought. Heād known the risks. But sitting here, Cas alive to be pissed at him, Jack warm against him, it was hard to argue with the results. āIt was worth it.āĀ
Ā
Casā eyes narrowed. āWould it have been worth it if Mary had died? Or Eileen? Or Sam?āĀ
Ā
The thought shook Dean, just like he knew Cas wanted it to. Dean had never been one to deal in hypotheticals but that didnāt mean he hadnāt thought about it before. Dad or Sam. Cas or Sam. Mom or Sam. And always, always, Sam had come out on top in Deanās mental math, even when Sam himself didnāt want it that way.Ā
Ā
Dean wondered if Cas was thinking about that too, the way he was looking at him right now. If he was remembering all the times Dean had let him down, choosing Sam over him.Ā
Ā
Dean shook his head, banishing all those other realities and their nightmares. āIt didnāt happen like that.āĀ
Ā
āIt could have,ā Cas said, relentlessly.
Ā
āBut it didnāt!ā Dean snapped.Ā
Ā
Cas rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair.Ā
Ā
āNo, it didnāt,ā he said, sarcastically, āinstead, youāre the one bearing the brunt of this moronic decision. Which brings me back to my original question: what were you thinking?āĀ
Ā
Dean looked away from Casā glare, glancing down toward Jack. The kid was still slumped against his side, idly playing with Deanās fingers. Dean could feel that heād picked up on the energy in the room, though, his little body tense, his tiny brow creased. Kids always saw more than you thought they did.Ā
Ā
āYou really gotta ask me that?ā Dean asked, glancing back up at Cas.Ā
Ā
Cas glared at him for another long moment before sagging in his chair. He looked back toward the door, that remote expression returning. He seemed frighteningly distant, closer to how heād looked when theyād first met, untouched by emotion.Ā Ā
Ā
āNo, I donāt,ā he said.Ā
Ā
They sat in silence for a long moment. Dean wasnāt sure what to do; heād known Cas would be angry and he figured he was welcome to it. God knew Dean had been pissed at him when Cas had pulled shit like this, walking into the fire like he was invincible. But Dean couldnāt bring himself to regret what heād done, not with the way it had turned out.Ā
Ā
Cas was still looking at the door when he spoke next, sounding quietly resigned. āYou didnāt have to do this, Dean.ā
Ā
Dean sighed. āCas, I get it, you think Iām an idiotāā
Ā
Cas looked back at him, sharply, stopping Deanās half-assed justifications in its tracks.Ā
Ā
āYou thought you had to make amends, is that it?ā he asked, tone matter of fact.Ā
Ā
Dean froze. āWhat?āĀ
Ā
āFor what happened in Eureka.ā Cas watched him keenly, eyes fixed on Deanās. āYou still think thatās your fault.āĀ
Ā
Dean didnāt know what to say, staring at Cas blankly. Yes, he did think Eureka was his fault. His fault the house was gone, his fault Cas and Jackās safety had been put in jeopardy, his fault the kid was tuckered out in Deanās bed rather than home taking a nap in his own. They had lost everything because of Deanās stupidity, everything.Ā
Ā
Cas sighed. āI already told you, that wasnāt your fault. You didnāt have to put yourself in danger toāatone.āĀ
Ā
āThatās not why I did this,ā Dean said, barely managing to keep his tone civil. Cas was stomping all over the parts of Dean he usually let lie quiet, unseen. Dean wasnāt stupid enough to think that Cas didnāt know about them; hell, most of them Dean had shown him. He was used to Cas looking at him and seeing straight through him, all the bullshit and lies falling away before Casā eyes, like shadows before the sun. He still remembered when they met, Cas twisting the metaphorical knife, you didnāt think you deserved to be saved?
Ā
Dean remembered what it was like back then, every conversation like a minefield, unsure which of Deanās most harrowing secrets Cas was going to trot out next. But it had cleaved Dean to him, he could see that now. Formed a basic and unshakeable foundation of honesty and trust that Dean had had with so few people over the years, he could count them on one hand. That foundation had gone so deep, nothing could break it, not even the two of them, no matter how hard they tried.Ā
Ā
But Cas had learned tact over the years. Heād learned to save those moments of eviscerating insight for special occasions, when Dean was falling to pieces or was making an ass of himself and needed someone to set him straight. Dean wondered which Cas thought it was now.Ā
Ā
āI wanted to help, keep you guys safe,ā Dean insisted.
Ā
Cas ignored him, continuing as if Dean hadnāt spoken at all.Ā
Ā
āAnd if you āfixed your mistakeā by dying along the way that was, what, an acceptable loss?ā Cas asked, casually, complete with air quotes.Ā
Ā
Dean stared, all the defiance drained out of him, at a complete loss for words. He hadnāt thought about it so deliberately, trading his life for Cas and Jackās. But heād be lying if he said the thought, amorphous and ill-formed, hadnāt crossed his mind, quickly buried under plans and anxiety. When heād been lying there on the floor, bleeding out, the math had made sense; Deanās life was a small price to pay if it meant keeping Cas and Jack safe.Ā
Ā
āThatās notāthatās not what I was doing,ā Dean said. It sounded weak, even to him.Ā
Ā
Cas looked away, grinding his jaw. āIām going to tell you something, Dean. And I need you to listen, really listen to me.āĀ
Ā
Dean swallowed. He didnāt know if he wanted to hear this, if he wanted to know what Cas thought he needed to hear, not when he was in this mood. He wasnāt even looking at Dean, staring toward the door as if he wanted to be someplace else.Ā
Ā
āOkay.ā
Ā
Cas sighed. His eyes dropped closed. āJack loves you. Just like he loves Sam. Just like he loves me.āĀ
Ā
Dean swallowed again and stared down at Jack. Jack was looking back at him already, his chubby, little face solemn. He met Deanās eyes steadily, without blinking, his fingers tight around Deanās.Ā Ā
Ā
A feeling started to bloom in Deanās mind, in that peculiar way Jack had of pressing his emotions on the people around him. Dean could see himself suddenly, larger than life, wreathed in light. He saw himself doing things he knew heād done: making a sandwich, mowing the lawn, eating a chocolate bar, putting blocks in a pile with a focused expression. And he saw himself doing things he hadnāt: leaning under the hood of the Impala with a blond teenager, pointing out components; wiping tears from his eyes at a high school graduation ceremony; tucked up in bed with a toddler, arm wrapped around him and a picture book in hand.Ā Ā
Ā
Dean came back to reality with a gasp, still staring down at Jack, barely visible through the blur in his eyes. His gaze jumped back up to Cas. He was watching Dean closely, something compassionate bleeding into his expression.Ā
Ā
Cas continued, voice rough, āAnd I know, that can be hard to accept. It took me a long time to realize that was the emotion Jack felt around me.ā His eyes fell away from Deanās. āI still donāt really believe it most days.āĀ
Ā
Dean frowned at him, blinking hard. A tear streaked down his cheek and he wiped it away in frustration.Ā
Ā
āDude, what are you talking about?ā he asked, voice gruff. āOf course Jack loves you. Youāre his dad.ā
Ā
Cas shook his head mutely, looking back at Dean. All shreds of distance had fallen away, leaving only devastation behind. Dean realized suddenly that Cas hadnāt been trying to remove himself from the room or finding it hard to look at Dean. Heād been trying not to fall apart.Ā
Ā
āI have failed in almost everything I have ever done. Everything I touch falls to pieces. And Iāve done my best with Jack, with all of this, butāā Cas stuttered to a stop, taking a deep, shaking, breath.Ā
Ā
āDo you have any idea how it felt to arrive and find you like that? To know youād only done it because you felt responsible for my failure?ā Cas asked.Ā
Ā
Dean shook his head, desperately. He started the pain-staking process of sitting up, tired of having this conversation lying down. He ended up leaning against the headboard, Jack cuddled against his hip.Ā
Ā
āCas, you didnāt failāā he started to say.
Ā
Cas glared at him, emotion in his eyes that Dean never wanted to see there. āYes, I did. Kelly asked me to look after her child. He chose me to look after him. How exactly have I done that? By allowing demons to hunt him around the world? By dragging him to a fight against a Prince of Hell and relying on Jackās powers to defeat him? Heās a year old, Dean!āĀ
Ā
Dean flinched away, misery descending on him just as strongly as it had when heād first realized what heād done. āI know, I messed up. I put him in danger and Iām-Iām sorry.ā
Ā
āDean, thatās notāā Cas sighed, āthatās not what Iām saying, not at all. You think itās your job to protect people, but itās not.ā He studied Dean for a long moment. āI told you before, why I left with Jack. To protect him, to protect you and Sam. But that wasnāt the only reason.āĀ
Ā
Dean looked at him, dread pooling in his gut. He didnāt want to know what other reason Cas had to leave, what reason Cas had to always leave. There was always something, something that drove the people Dean loved away. And he knew what the common denominator was.Ā
Ā
āWhat else was there?āĀ
Ā
Cas took a deep breath, let it out. He deflated with it, leaning forward on his elbows, folding his hands and staring at the floor.Ā
Ā
āI left,ā he said, ābecause I didnāt want to make us your problem. Dean, youāve spent your whole life being deprived of the ability to make a choice for you , to choose what you want. Your childhood, the war you were enlisted in as a child, the apocalypse, the Mark, the Darkness. The list goes on.āĀ
Ā
Cas looked up at him, and a smile broke across his face, sad and knowing. āBut then Lucifer was dead. And you were free. There was no danger to your family, no crisis on the horizon. Youād reached the end of the line.āĀ
Ā
He swallowed heavily, looking away again. āI could have gone to you, I knew that. But the last time I brought a crisis to your door, I destroyed your life.ā He looked back at Dean, cutting off his automatic protest with a glance.Ā
Ā
āI did. You were happy with Lisa and Ben, or were on your way to it. And then you got involved with what I was doing with Crowley, and it ruined everything for you. I ruined everything.ā Cas shook his head. āI couldnāt do that again.ā
Ā
Dean wasnāt sure what to say to that. That was all so long ago, he barely thought about it anymoreāthe fury heād felt at then Casā deal with Crowley was non-existent now, overshadowed by Deanās own dealings with Crowley. And Lisa and Ben, they had been Deanās responsibility, not Casā. Cas hadnāt done anything to them that Dean hadnāt asked him to.Ā
Ā
āCas, that wasnāt your fault. I know I was pissed then, butāthat wasnāt all on you.āĀ
Ā
Cas shook his head, clearly not hearing him. He fixed Dean with another pained look.Ā
Ā
āJack and I, weāre not your responsibility,ā Cas said, gravely, āso I will heal you, and then weāll go.āĀ
Ā
Deanās breath shuddered in his lungs. So this was it. Cas was going to leave again, going to take Jack far away, and Dean would never see them.Ā
Ā
Something broke inside Dean. For a second, he worried it was one of the injuries Cas had already healed, coming spontaneously undone. He could feel heat rushing through him, running up his throat, through his lungs. There was something bubbling inside him, a volcano about to erupt. He could barely feel his limbs, could barely feel Jackās body pressed against him, wriggling and making noises of distress. Dean rested a hand on Jackās head, hoping to take some measure of peace in his warmth, but it just made that something inside him churn harder.Ā
Ā
Dean opened his mouth and it poured forth, the mess inside him spilling out into the day.Ā
Ā
āNo, please,ā Dean said, he begged, he fucking begged , āplease, donāt. Iām sorry. Iām sorry I brought them after you, Iād-Iād do better next time, I wouldnāt screw up like that again, I swearāā
Ā
Casā grabbed him by the arm, shaking him. His face was desperate, staring at Dean in concern. āDean, Iām not punishing you. Iām trying to let you go.āĀ
Ā
āI donāt want to be let go!ā Dean shouted. Jack whimpered next to him, working himself up to a cry. Dean glared at Cas, staring back at him with a stunned expression.
Ā
āYou want me to choose a life, be happy or what the fuck ever, then I choose! I choose this one, you and me and Jack,ā Dean said.Ā
Ā
Cas shook his head. āDean, you donāt want thatāā
Ā
āDonāt tell me what I want!ā Dean shouted, ripping his arm out of Casā grip.Ā
Ā
Cas glared at him, his hand curling into a fist. For a wild second, Dean thought Cas might take a swing.Ā
Ā
āYou think I donāt know you? You think I havenāt seen your dreams, your deepest desires? I know you better than anyone, down to the depths of your soul.ā Cas stopped, a look on his face like he was about to pick a scab on a wound.Ā Ā
Ā
āWhat I am, what we are, has no place in what you want,ā Cas said.Ā Ā
Ā
Dean glared at him. The mess was still inside him, churning and churning, and every word Cas said made it go faster. What the actual fuck was he even talking about? Yeah, Cas knew him, Dean knew that. Cas was a lodestone, a fixed point, for Dean. Of course he fucking knew him. But apparently, he also didnāt know jackshit, otherwise he wouldnāt be so stupid about it all.Ā
Ā
āWell, if you know me so well, then explain this,ā Dean demanded. He propped himself up with a hand beside Jack so he could lean out over the bed, seized Cas by the trenchcoat and yanked him in. He got one last look at Casā eyes, wide and confused, before he was kissing him.Ā
Ā
It was not a great kiss, by any means. Dean could feel his arm shaking underneath him, barely able to support his weight. Jack had slid a bit with Deanās shifting on the bed, so a not inconsiderable part of Deanās mind was worried about crushing him. And Cas was frozen, absolutely stiff, like a freaking board, as if he didnāt even know what kissing was.Ā
Ā
But it was also the best kiss of Deanās life, which was the kind of sappy bullshit Dean was reduced to now in his old age.Ā
Ā
Dean broke the kiss but he lingered, keeping Cas close. He could feel Casā breath against his lips, his stubble against his cheeks. Casā eyes were still wide open and staring at him; Dean wondered if Cas had closed them at all and resisted the urge to laugh hysterically in the face of the absolute absurdity that was his life.Ā
Ā
āWhat are you doing?ā Cas murmured. Dean could feel the words against his lips.Ā
Ā
āMaking my case, man,ā Dean whispered back. He retreated to the bed, letting Cas go so he could do so without crushing Jack. He needed to be stable to do this. This was all or nothing If he fucked this up, he got a feeling he wouldnāt get another chance. Luckily, all that mess churning inside was just as eager to come out. For once, the words actually came easy, the cork finally popped, the dam broken.Ā
Ā
āIām in love with you, okay?ā Dean said. He swore he actually saw Cas stop breathing. āHave been for frigging years. And I know you just lost Kelly and you donāt feel the same, and thatās fine, I accept that. But I am begging you, man, begging . Iāll get down on my fucking knees if I have to.āĀ
Ā
Dean paused, having to take a breath before he continued. It was almost harder to say than the big L word.Ā
Ā
āDo not leave me,ā he said.Ā
Ā
Cas stared at him, his mouth literally hanging ajar. Clearly, regardless of what he said about knowing Dean, he had not seen that coming.Ā
Ā
āYou canāt love me,ā Cas said. Dean was so taken aback by that that he felt the churning inside him finally spin to a stop.Ā
Ā
āWell, I do, so...there,ā Dean said, lamely.Ā
Ā
Cas started shaking his head, so rapidly Dean worried it might fly off. āDean, youāve seen the worst things I have ever done. Some of them Iāve done to you, to your family. You canāt love me after that.āĀ
Ā
āAgain, I do, soā¦ā Dean trailed off with a shrug. Never in Deanās wildest imaginings had he thought this was how Cas would react. Disgusted, maybe. Uncomfortable, definitely. But not honestly fucking confused and staring at Dean like he was insane.Ā
Ā
āI donāt understand,ā Cas said, his voice very small.Ā
Ā
Dean couldnāt help but laugh. āItās not that hard, buddy. I just love you.ā It was like he couldnāt stop saying it, now that heād said it once, the phrase bubbling to the tip of tongue every other second. I love you I love you I love you , until they ran into one word that just meant Cas.Ā
Ā
But Cas was shaking his head again. āNo, you must be confused. Dean, you know me.ā He swallowed, his face twisting up in a miserable frown. āThereās nothing worth loving here.āĀ
Ā
Dean couldnāt stop himself; he practically leapt forward, ignoring the scream of half-healed muscles, and dragged Cas over to the bed. Cas came willingly, biddable and meek, something shell-shocked in his face. Dean settled back on the bed with a relieved sigh.Ā
Ā
Jack had rocked around with all the movement and was clearly unhappy about it, flailing his arm in the air with a loud whine. Cas gathered him up seemingly on autopilot, cradling him in his lap and rubbing his tummy even as he continued to stare at Dean.Ā
Ā
Dean leaned forward and seized Cas by the shoulders. It was a good place to grabāCas had wide shoulders and Dean needed something to keep him upright. He returned Casā stare, needing every word he was saying to land.Ā
Ā
āHey, hey, you listen to me. You are not a failure. You are not broken, or defective, or bad.ā
Ā
Dean shook him every other word, as if the motion would help what he was saying get through.Ā
Ā
āThat is not you,ā Dean said. āIt never has been. I need you to believe that.āĀ
Ā
āAll I do is break things,ā Cas whispered.Ā
Ā
Dean shook his head. āAre you even hearing yourself, man? Where have you been? You saved us, all of us. You just killed a frigginā Prince of Hell, saved my life. Iād literally be dead without you.āĀ
Ā
But the words didnāt seem to help, Cas shrinking away even more, dropping his gaze from Deanās. āI know my powers are usefulāā
Ā
Dean gave him a hard shake, Casā eyes snapping back to him. āIām not talking about your powers, man, screw āem. I donāt care about those. You could lose all that tomorrow, it wouldnāt change anything. Iām talking about you.āĀ
Ā
Cas was still looking at with disbelief written across every plane of his face. Dean didnāt know what to do; he needed Cas to understand him, to accept what he was saying, more than he needed to breathe. If he couldnāt do this, have the people he loved believe that he loved them, that what was he good for?Ā
Ā
I still donāt really believe it most days .Ā
Ā
Dean looked at him at Cas, sitting there in front of him. He looked so small, a worn man in a ruined trench coat with his baby in his lap. He looked exhausted and frightened and desperate for something to keep him going. He looked like someone Dean recognized, someone he saw in the mirror every day.Ā
Ā
āYou know I can feel it, right?ā Dean said, āHow much Jack loves you. I saw it that morning, after we slept over. He showed me.āĀ
Ā
Because thatās what that vision had been, hadnāt it. It had been love, overflowing out of Jack and into Dean, like water from a cup.Ā
Ā
Cas almost seemed to sway, like a tree in a strong wind.Ā
Ā
Dean continued. āAnytime Iām around him, I feel it. That kid loves you so goddamn much. Youāre everything to him.āĀ
Ā
Jack burbled in Casā lap, in clear agreement. Dean grinned as Jack grabbed Casā hand, still rubbing his tummy, pulling it up so Jack could nibble on his fingers.Ā
Ā
āSo, donāt say youāre not worth loving. Your kidās pretty smart. Think heās got the right idea,ā Dean said. Heād gotten it right, he could already tell. Cas was starting to believe him, the desperation fading into something that looked an awful lot like hope.Ā
Ā
āYou want this,ā Cas said, āMe and Jack. Thatās what you want.āĀ
Ā
Dean shrugged. āHey, Iāll say it until Iām blue in the face. You wanna go to Siberia, Iāll come with you. Iāll go with you to Antarctica, to the Sahara, hell, Iāll even go to the freaking moon. I want to be there while Jack grows up. I want to be there when he learns to talk, I want to be there when he goes to school, I want to be there when he finally figures out how to time travel and we go to the fucking future or whatever, meet some Vulcans. I want to do that with him and I want to do that with you.āĀ
Ā
He swallowed, hard, that churning inside him whipping back into life. His voice shook on the next words. āThese past months, being in that house with you, have been some of the best of my life. Okay? Thatās what I want.ā
Ā
Dean blinked, looking away from Cas. āJust donāt leave me, man. Donāt leave me.āĀ
Ā
A long beat of silence, then a hand settled gently on Deanās knee. He looked up to meet Casā eyes.Ā
Ā
āIāve never wanted to leave you. Never.ā The words had the tone of a vow.Ā
Ā
āThen, donāt,ā Dean said.Ā
Ā
Cas snorted. āCan it really be that simple?āĀ
Ā
Dean shrugged. āI donāt know. Feels like all I do is make things complicated. But maybe we can try?āĀ
Ā
Cas nodded, something considering in his face. āI think Iād like that.ā His expression had softened into something painful to look at. If Dean was a different man, he might call it holy.Ā
Ā
āYāknow, I can feel it, too,ā Cas said, āhow much Jack loves you.ā
Ā
Dean scoffed, looking away. āDonāt say that.ā
Ā
Casā hand squeezed his knee. āItās true. He always gets so excited when you visit. He senses you miles away and he wonāt calm down until he sees you.āĀ Ā
Ā
Dean looked at him, at them. Jack was still happily nibbling away at Casā fingers, his face blissful.Ā
Ā
āYou think?ā he asked.Ā
Ā
Cas smiled, warmly. Unexpectedly, the sad undercurrent was gone. āI know so.ā His hand squeezed Deanās knee again. āJust like I know I love you.āĀ
Ā
āBuh-what?ā Dean said, extremely gracefully.Ā
Ā
Cas didnāt give him a chance to ask the question again or to ask any of his follow-up questionsāsince when? What made it happen so Dean could do it again for the rest of his life?āleaning forward to cut him off with his lips.Ā
Ā
It was terrible, again. Their knees were in the way and Jack was squealing with delight between them. Cas couldnāt seem to bring his lips together properly, spread wide in a grin Dean desperately wanted to see.Ā
Ā
But it was also the best kiss of Deanās life, so. He wasnāt exactly complaining.Ā
Chapter 4: THE SON
Notes:
Lal: Then why do you still try to emulate Humans? What purpose does it serve except to remind you that you are incomplete?
Date: I have asked myself that, many times, as I have struggled to be more Human. Until I realized, it is the struggle itself that is most important. We must strive to be more than we are, Lal. It does not matter that we will never reach our ultimate goal. The effort yields its own rewards.
Offspring, 03x16, Star Trek The Next Generation
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Jack was outside, watching the little frogs in the pond, when Daddy got home.Ā
Ā
Jack remembered vaguely, in the way he remembered all things from when he was a baby, when they first came here. They had lived in the small building that Grandma stayed in when she visited, which Daddy jokingly called the mother-in-law suite to make her laugh and Daddy blush. Theyād had to tear the old house down, he remembered, because of the damage from the fire, long before heād been born. But he could still feel the memories settled in its bones; the man who had lived here before them, bearded and grumpy and kind, and the two boys, just like him, who had learned to call this place home over the years.
Ā
This pond hadnāt been here when theyād moved in and the ground had been littered with parts of old vehicles which sang of memories of their past owners. Those cars were gone now, taken further down the lane, and now the pond was here and full of life. The frogs had come shortly after the pond. Jack wasnāt entirely sure how they had gotten here; heād woken up one morning and there they were. But he had been dreaming about frogs just the night before after watching The Princess and the Frog. He suspected, and Daddy did too, that he himself might have put them there in his sleep. Theyād made a silent promise not to tell Daddy.Ā
Ā
Now, Jack laid on his belly, watching the frogs and tadpoles in the water. The tadpoles had just started to emerge from their eggs in the last few days, little bodies almost invisible in the water. They had all watched the tadpoles being born and Daddy had dubbed it all ādisgustingā. But he was sitting here next to Jack anyway, now, watching the tadpoles swim with him.Ā
Ā
āDid you name them?ā he asked.Ā
Ā
āTheyāre called Jeremiah,ā Jack said. He ducked his hand into the water. The tadpoles swam around his fingers, occasionally bumping into him.Ā
Ā
āWhat, all of them?ā Daddy asked.Ā
Ā
āYes.ā Jack looked up at him. Daddy was sitting cross-legged, one hand on Jackās back and the other holding his book. It was a long chapter book, one Daddy had brought back from his work along with a pile of shorter books for Jack. His favorite was The Dread Cat; it reminded him of the black cat that had started to appear on the back porch last summer, the one Daddy had fed so often she had never gone away. Jack called her Dread in his head, although she liked to lay around and watch the mice rather than chase after them. She still hissed at him more often than not when he went to pet her, but he didnāt blame her. Sheād had a hard life.Ā
Ā
Jack had named the frogs after his favorite song on the mixtape Daddy had given him for his birthday last year. Theyād listened to that song all night long, Jack doing his best leap frog jumps with Uncle Sam while Daddy cried with laughter across the room.Ā
Ā
āDid you want to name one?ā he asked.
Ā
āSure,ā Daddy said, putting his book to the side. āWhich one?āĀ
Ā
Jack thought about it, then pointed at one of the frogs sitting across the pond from them. Heād sensed that that one was not quite satisfied with the name Jeremiah. āThat one.āĀ
Ā
Daddy squinted his eyes to stare at the frog. He had that special look in his eye, the one that meant he was about to make a very funny joke. āWhich one?āĀ
Ā
Jack pointed again. āThat one!āĀ
Ā
āSorry, buddy, I canāt see it. Which one is it?āĀ
Ā
Jack picked himself up, standing to put his hands on Daddyās cheeks to point him in the right direction. āOver there, that one!āĀ
Ā
Jack suddenly found himself grabbed and tugged into Daddyās lap. His arms surrounded Jack, holding him tight while he pressed kisses and blew raspberries on Jackās cheeks. Jack howled with laughter.Ā
Ā
āDaddy, stop!ā Jack shouted, still laughing.Ā
Ā
Daddy pulled him into a hug with a grin, pressing another kiss to his hair with a laugh. āYeah, yeah, okay. I think I see him now. How about Yoda, is that a good name? Heās kinda like a frog.āĀ
Ā
Jack looked back at the frog in question, leaning against Daddyās chest. āI think he likes it.āĀ
Ā
Daddy snorted. Jack could feel him smiling against his hair. āWell, Iām glad.āĀ
Ā
A tingling raced up Jackās spine and he looked toward the driveway. The wards Daddy had painstakingly put around the property had just been crossed. āDaddyās almost home.āĀ
Ā
āAbout time. I swear, they keep him longer every night.ā Daddy said that everyday. Heād complained before that Daddy could just fly home from work, that it would be quicker. Daddy always replied that heād learned to enjoy driving and he wanted to enjoy the privilege of doing so. That always made Daddy go quiet and put a soft look on his face.Ā
Ā
It wasnāt long before they could hear the engine of the car rumbling down the driveway. The Impala came to a stop just beside the house and Daddy stepped out, juggling another pile of books in his arms.Ā
Ā
āWeāre by the pond, babe!ā Daddy called, absently pressing another kiss to Jackās head. Daddy made his way over, gently nudging Dread out of the way as she circled his feet, meowing.Ā
Ā
āI told you shouldnātāve fed that thing,ā Daddy said, like he always did.Ā
Ā
Daddy knelt beside him, putting the pile of books down on the grass beside him with a sigh.Ā
Ā
āShe was hungry,ā he said, simply, kissing Daddy.Ā
Ā
āSheās a mangy stray, of course she was hungry,ā Daddy replied, before kissing Daddy again. Jack wasnāt sure why Daddy complained about Dread so much; heād lost count of the number of times heād caught Daddy sneaking her into the house for a snack or a pet. Considering Jack couldnāt count very high yet, maybe that didnāt mean much, but he suspected it did.Ā
Ā
āHi, Jack,ā Daddy said, stooping over to kiss Jack on the forehead.Ā
Ā
That, Jack remembered. Daddy hovering over him every night, kissing him, telling Jack he loved him. Heād seen it in his head, before heād properly met Daddy, after Mommy was gone. It had been the first thing Jack had ever wanted, besides his Mommy.Ā
Ā
āHi, Daddy.āĀ
Ā
āWatching the frogs?ā he asked.Ā
Ā
Daddy grinned at him. āWeāve got a Yoda, now,ā he said, pointed at the frog.Ā
Ā
āI see,ā Daddy said, very seriously.Ā
Ā
āDaddy, can we have pizza for dinner?ā Jack asked.Ā
Ā
Daddy looked at him, narrowly. āWeāre going to have pizza for dinner tomorrow, remember? With everyone else?āĀ
Ā
Jack remembered. It was his birthday tomorrow and Uncle Sam and Aunt Eileen, Grandma, Aunt Jody and Aunt Donna, and Claire and Alex and Kaia were all going to make the trip to celebrate. Daddy had been griping and running around trying to figure out where they were all going to stay for weeks.Ā
Ā
āWe canāt make my mom sleep on the couch,ā he kept saying. Daddy would just sigh and remind him that the girls had volunteered to sleep in the living room, something which Daddy dubbed āa disaster in the makingā. Sometimes, Jack thought he acted grumpy and said stuff like that just so Daddy would go over and kiss him.Ā
Ā
Jack was excited. His family visited often but not always all at the same time. It would be nice to have them all in the same place at once.Ā
Ā
But for now, he wanted pizza. āWe can have pizza both nights?ā he proposed.
Ā
Daddy, as he had known he would, backed him up.Ā
Ā
āWe could have pizza both nights,ā he repeated, looking closely at Daddy. He wrapped his arms a bit more securely around Jack, leaning over to balance his chin on top of Jackās head. Jack put his bottom lip out, mimicking the expression he knew Daddy was making.Ā
Ā
Daddy sighed, looking at them both with fond exasperation. āWhat if we had tacos tonight? You like tacos.āĀ
Ā
āOh, hell yeah,ā Daddy said and Jack agreed, nodding decisively.Ā
Ā
They stayed by the pond a little longer, watching the frogs and tadpoles. He knew that most of the tadpoles swimming in the pond now wouldnāt survive into adulthood. It was sad, but Daddy had explained that it meant the time they had together now was all the more precious for it. It made Jack want to spend as much time by the pond as possible, staying out late with Daddy until the sun started to creep low and the crickets were singing and Daddy complained of not having enough light to read by.Ā
Ā
āAre you ready to be six?ā Daddy asked him.Ā
Ā
āI think so,ā Jack said. He knew that he didnāt really have to age, not if he didnāt want to. Heād thought about it, staying little forever; there were certain positivesāheād never grow so large that his Daddies couldnāt hold him or he couldnāt fit in Grandmaās lap or on Uncle Samās shoulders. Claire could keep calling him pipsqueak, although he suspected she might do that even when he was a big boy.Ā
Ā
But there were things he could only do when he was olderāDaddy refused to take him to see anything beyond the Milky Way until he was a teenager and Daddy kept talking about teaching him to drive and work on the car, but he couldnāt do that yet. And it would probably be nice to stay up past eight, which Daddy never let him do no matter how many times he made the walls bleed (Daddy blamed that habit completely on Daddy for letting Jack watch The Shining once and only sighed deeply whenever he did it. After a while, it just wasnāt fun anymore).
Ā
Being six meant being in first grade. Jack had enjoyed kindergarten, for the most part. He didnāt always understand the other children and heād found it hard to make friends. He knew most of them hadnāt had the experiences heād hadālosing a Mommy, losing a house, having people out to hurt him, or having two Daddies instead of a Mommy and a Daddy.Ā
Ā
But Daddy had told him that was normal, to wonder where he fit in and struggle to find his own space.Ā Ā
Ā
āI never understood other kids when I was your age,ā he said. āYou just keep being you and youāll be fine.āĀ
Ā
Being himself meant being an angel, a human, and most importantly, a son. He was his motherās son and one day he would visit her in Heaven. He was the son of the father heād chosen beyond that fatherās comprehension, the son of the father whoād come to him just as skittish and stand-off-ish as Dread and cleaved just as closely. He was nephew and grandchild and bizarre little brother, at least according to Claire.Ā
Ā
When Jack had been young, so young he hadnāt yet been born, heād saved his motherās life. His world had been so small then compared to what it was now. His world had expanded as heād grown, and would continue to do so for the rest of his life, however long that would be. And through it all, he would remain himself, with his family, and his house, and his little pond.Ā
Ā
Jack didnāt know who else he could be, so he supposed that was just fine.Ā
Notes:
I like to think it takes Dean literal years to figure out that Cas and Kelly were never together. Jack probably has to tell him.
You can listen to the mixtape that Dean made Jack on Spotify: JackTraxx