Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Melting vanilla ice cream oozed between the flaky lattices, colouring the cherry pie on Dean’s plate a disconcerting pink. He pushed it around with his fork, watching it squish and shift like it was dying. Given the heat in the shop, it probably was.

“It’s pie, you’re supposed to eat it. Not push it around your plate like a petulant child.”

Dean turned his head, glancing over at the man sitting next to him. He’d worked for Jim for the last 18 years and had known him for the last 33. Jim was a good guy, a grey haired soft spoken man who’d been enough of a father to him when he needed it.

“Sorry, m’just thinking.” Dean mumbled, letting the fork drop onto the paper plate.

“Having second thoughts about leaving us? Because you know I’m more than happy to keep you here, would prefer it to having to hire some yahoo who doesn’t know a band saw from a scroll saw.”

“About leaving you, no.” Dean admitted. “About moving in general, yeah.”

“Are those second thoughts entirely because of a certain 15 year old?”

Dean snorted quietly, nodding his head. “Yeah. Am I really that predictable?”

“Pretty much. Is he giving you that much grief about moving?”

Dean nodded again, lips pressed together tightly. The 15 year old in question was full of enough hormones and emotions to cripple God. He was a good kid save for specific circumstances that included being ripped away from his friends and forced to move states before his junior year of high school. Those circumstances had made him a veritable tyrant.

“Ben is, um, not thrilled. He pretty much hasn’t spoken to me since he found out and that was back in October. Kind of made Christmas awkward.”

“He’s a kid, he’ll get over it. Now go on, I know school’s getting out and we’ve kept you long enough.”

Dean slid from the bar stool and turned, eyeing Jim for a few seconds before pulling him into a tight hug. It was uncharacteristic for Dean but Jim had done more for him than most people would imagine so it felt appropriate. He felt Jim hug back and stood for a moment before pulling away so it wouldn’t be awkward.

“Thanks for everything, Jim. Seriously, I mean it.”

Jim smiled, flashed Dean a good luck thumbs up, and returned to the group of guys who were shooting the shit.

Dean took his time packing up all of his tools and tidying the workstation he’d never use again before he took off, leaving the shop for the last time. His breath caught in his throat the further away he drove and his chest squeezed painfully, like it wanted him to keel over on the side of the road. He’d had no shortage of uncertainty, of new beginnings and terrifying situations, but this felt more permanent than any of those were.

It was the eight hours kind of permanent where he’d have better opportunities and more to do and a nicer house but it was also the leaving the city where he’d grown up and the angry teenager who was being ripped away from his friends. Change was a monster and Dean wasn’t sure how he felt about facing it yet.

Kids were pouring out of Eastview high school when Dean got there and he picked his usual parking spot, rolling the windows down while he waited. In the years prior Ben had been quick to run out so they could rush off to Dad’s Ice Cream and get their end of the school year treat but this year was different and Dean knew it. The steady stream of kids slowed to a trickle and soon minutes had passed where there wasn’t a single kid and Ben still wasn’t out yet.

“Come on kid, we’ve got shit to do.” Dean mumbled under his breath, fingers tapping away at the steering wheel. There was still last minute packing to do, still dinner to be made, and still an awkward conversation to be had about Ben had been acting.

Ben appeared a few minutes later in the final gaggle of kids escaping the school for the summer. He was nestled in the middle of them, his volleyball teammates on both sides and their girlfriends in front. Dean recognized the one girl from the many descriptions Ben had given him and felt a cringe roll over him when she kissed Ben’s cheek before walking away. Ben wouldn’t be happy leaving her behind.

“Still up for Dad’s?” Dean asked, pulling out of the lot once Ben was safely inside. “June and Dave are probably expecting us.”

Ben didn’t answer.

“Alright, no Dad’s then. I was thinking about Thai for supper since we packed all of our kitchen stuff already. That okay with you?”

Ben shrugged his shoulders, staring out the window at the people they passed. The environment in the car was uncomfortable and Dean felt like he was being stifled. Sitting in silence all the way home was going to be worse than a one sided conversation so Dean kept at it the best he could.

“How was your last exam? I think I remember you saying you were nervous about it. Well maybe I overheard that more than directly had you tell me but still.”

“It was fine.”

“Fine is good, but was it like ‘I did great’ fine or more of an ‘I passed’ fine? Kind of an important distinction.”

“It was fine.” Ben repeated, irritated. “Don’t act like you actually care. You don’t care.”

Dean sighed deeply, resisting the urge to scrub a hand over his face. He’d expected Ben to be snippy but this was going to derail into yelling territory if they spent too much time together in the cramped car. The car remained quiet as Dean drove them home and parked in the driveway they would soon never see again. He was planning on telling Ben to pack up whatever he had left in his room so they could leave after dinner but he didn’t get the chance because Ben was already out of the car and in the house, the front door slamming behind him.

“That went well.” Dean mumbled as he walked into the house that was more skeleton than anything else.

The furniture had already been packed and shipped off along with everything in the kitchen and most of their clothing too. It was bare bones and the longer Dean stared at it, the more affected he found himself. He’d lived in that house for 29 years, over twice as long as he’d had Ben, and they’d had so many milestones together. Ben’s first sleepover, his first after practice pizza party, his first middle school dance, all of it was in the house. There was a fair share of heartbreak in the house too, of late night benders and bouts of depression and frustration, but it seemed to pale in comparison.

Dean made his way into the kitchen, fingers brushing the grooves carved into the entryway.

“Dad, dad, hurry!” Ben squealed, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he kept his back pressed against the wood of the entryway.

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Relax.” Dean chuckled as he appeared from the kitchen, tape measure in hand. He could see Ben waiting impatiently and chuckled as he crouched down, sliding the end of the tape measure under his feet. “How tall do you think you are?”

“Like a billion feet tall!”

“A billion feet, huh? Think you’d be even taller than Mount Everest. That would be pretty scary.”

Ben shook his head, smiling. “No, not scary! That would be cool! I want to be tall like you!”

Dean smiled and extended the tape measure until it hit the top of Ben’s head, taking a small knife and scratching a line into the wood. He marked Ben’s age and the year, 6 and 2015, with a sharpie before scooping Ben up into his arms.

“You’re 3’10 kiddo, still got a bit to go before you get as tall as me.” He chuckled. “Whattya think, should we go call gramma and tell her how tall you are now?”

“Yeah, let’s call gramma!”

He hadn’t planned on moving so soon, had planned on waiting until Ben was done high school and off to college but Dean knew when an opportunity fell in your lap that you took it. There was a firm looking for a ticketed carpenter who were willing to pay top dollar and happened to find Dean through the myriad of social media posts his clients had made over the years.

It helped that the new town was the same town his mom had moved to some 11 years ago and the same town his best friend was living in. The decision felt like a no brainer for him but Ben had given him pause. At least for the first few weeks had to decide, but the pros outweighed the cons and if it meant his son would be mad at him for a while, then so be it.

He hadn’t exactly told either of them that they were moving closer but they both loved him so he didn’t think they’d mind.

Dean triple checked that he had everything packed into the trunk before he ventured upstairs, knocking on Ben’s open door. “Hey kiddo, just checking to see if you’re finished packing. Also seeing what you want for dinner.”

Ben didn’t look up from his laptop, instead gesturing towards the large duffel bag with the remainder of his things he’d packed up. It was clear he had no intention of speaking to Dean more than he had to.

“I asked you a question, I’d really like an answer.”

“You didn’t ask me a question so I don’t have to answer you.” Ben replied testily.

“I know you’re upset but you don’t have to be rude to me. I expect better from you.”

That got Ben’s attention and he closed his laptop, finally meeting Dean’s gaze. There was an anger bubbling beneath the surface and it looked like Dean had pushed just enough for it to bubble over.

“And you didn’t have to take a job that would rip me away from all of my friends but you did! So sorry Dad, guess neither of us are fucking perfect! Pretty sure what you’re doing is worse than what I’m doing.”

“Benjamin, do not swear at me.” Dean said sharply, patience beginning to thin.

“Oh, so now you’re almost government naming me. Typical Dad behaviour. What’s next, gonna ground me? Can’t be worse than being eight hours away from everyone I’ve known for the last fifteen years! You don’t care about my feelings.”

Dean’s eye twitch, the familiar heat of anger rising in his stomach. He took a step back and forced a deep breath to try and rein himself in. The last thing either of them needed was Dean exploding and making the move more painful than it was already proving to be.

“I am going to step out to grab dinner before I say something that I regret. We can talk about this and how you’re feeling when I get back. I hope you can be civil then.”

Ben bit back a retort, choosing instead to remain silent. Dean had only ever yelled at him once and that had been enough.

Dean turned on his heels when he saw Ben back down, grateful for the break getting dinner would afford him. He understood Ben lashing out but it still didn’t give him the right to so standoffish and angry, snapping at every little thing. Moving was awful and leaving the people you loved was awful but it didn’t excuse being a dick. 

He’d called in their order ahead of time so it was ready to go when he got there but Dean spent several minutes sitting in the parking lot, needing the space to clear his own head and organize his thoughts. Of course he’d have an eight hour drive to that but that was different and those would be different thoughts. He wanted to give Ben time to calm down too. There was nothing quite like two Winchester tempers flaring up at the same time.

It was quiet when Dean got back, too quiet. He half expected to find Ben gone when he got upstairs but that wasn’t the case. Ben was sitting on the floor like he had been a half hour earlier but he was wiping at his eyes, staring up at Dean like a startled deer when he knocked at the door.

“Do you want to eat alone or are you alright eating with me?” Dean asked.

Ben hugged his knees to his chest but didn’t tell Dean to leave so Dean shuffled in, sitting next to him. He set Ben’s portion in front of him before opening his own, not pressuring Ben into opening up.

“I know you don’t want to leave your friends and I don’t blame you. It’s scary moving somewhere where you don’t know anyone and have to make friends again. But you’re a good kid and you’re friendly and you’ll be just fine.”

“Do you have any idea what they do to new kids?” Ben mumbled, reaching for his pad thai “They crucified the new kid in my grade that started in September. I don’t want them to crucify me.”

“They won’t. All you need is confidence and I know that advice sounds ridiculous but I promise it isn’t. You know you’re great so act like you are, without being a dick about it of course, and you’ll be fine.”

“It can’t be that simple.”

“Except that it is.” Dean shrugged, pausing for a bite of his green curry. “If it helps, I’m scared to move too.”

Ben raised an eyebrow, suspicious. “Nothing scares you.”

“Correction, I’m scared of a lot of things but parents don’t let their kids know they’re afraid. That’s pretty much parenting 101. I know you’re worried about making new friends and moving schools but you’re not alone, I’m worried about friends and work and readjusting to new routines too.”

There was silence for a while as Ben and Dean ate in peace, a tentative truce reached. Ben was the first to finish and the first to break the silence, attempting to pass his sniffles from crying off as sniffles from the spice of the pad thai they both knew was mild.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you, this is just- it’s a lot.”

“It’s alright, just maybe don’t do it again.” Dean shrugged. “I saw that girl you’ve been talking about kiss your cheek today. What was her name again, Lucy or something?”

“Lacey. It was a goodbye kiss and a maybe say hey if I’m ever back in town but I don’t think it would work out and also I don’t really wanna talk about this with you. It’s still weird.”

“Yeah, it is a bit weird. Better than me having to talk to your grandma about this stuff but those are stories for when you’re older and I’m not as tired.”

Ben seemed to relax as he and Dean sat there for a couple more minutes in silence. There was still tension but it didn’t feel like it was choking either of them out. It helped knowing that Dean was scared too, in a weird sort of backwards way. If neither of them knew what they were doing then maybe they could figure it out together and not suffer too much in the process.

“How close are we to grandma?”

“Twenty minutes. Wanted to find a place closer to her so she would stop complaining about us never visiting enough. We’re pretty close to your god mom too so you’ll get to meet her if you want.”

“Is this the one you have the really bad matching tattoo with that you think I don’t know about?”

Dean’s eyes widened and he flushed red, embarrassed. “I vote we go back to pretending that neither of us know or remember that that thing exists.  Just like I vote we pack the rest of your stuff up so we can get a move on.”

“Why the rush? You don’t start work until next week so not like you have to be awake at 6 am tomorrow.”

“Nosy neighbours, Ben, that’s the rush. Don't exactly feel like talking to random neighbours for the first time after driving for that long so the sooner we leave, the sooner we get there and with this timing it’ll be before they’re all getting ready to go to work.”

“Okay, fair point.”

Dean grabbed Ben’s duffel bag when he got up, trying not to groan as he felt his knee pop. 33 wasn’t old but it sure as hell felt it. There was just enough room left in the backseat to fit the duffel in and when Dean was satisfied, he took a seat on the hood of his car. He was aware of Ben shuffling out alongside him and sitting next to him but his mind was somewhere else, drifting off to another memory in the house.

The air was hot and sticky as Dean sat on the front lawn with his mother, picnic blanket spread beneath them and basket open in front of them. Dean had a glass of iced tea in his hand and his eyes trained on Ben, no more than 11 months old, as he crawled around on the dry grass.

“I don’t know how you handled doing this twice. I’ve just got him and I feel like I’m so paranoid all of the time.” Dean said. “I looked away for like two minutes the other day and he was already crawling towards the stairs. How in the hell did Sam and I not give you grey hair?”

“You both did, don’t get it twisted. Especially you, Dean. You’d be getting into trouble every time I turned away, I had to leash you when you started learning how to walk.”

“I was a leash kid?”

Mary nodded her head, chuckling in amusement at Dean’s sudden horror. She’d never been shy about telling Dean what to expect when it came to raising a child, especially not in the early years, so she found it greatly amusing to see his reactions. It meant he cared and that’s all that really mattered.

By then Ben had stopped crawling and had pulled himself to his feet, a chubby hand gripping the porch siding. He was a reasonably sized child and unmistakably Dean’s, right down to the greenish eyes and brown head of hair.

“Dear God please don’t fall.” Dean mumbled as he set his iced tea down, shifting to sit on his knees and hold his hands out. “Are you gonna walk or am I gonna have to football dive for you, kid?”

Ben stared Dean down, gurgled to himself, and took a shaky step forward. His little leg threatened to buckle but it didn’t and then he took another shaky step forward, letting go of the porch siding. It was one step after another until his little legs gave out and then Dean was sliding forward, scooping Ben up before he hit the ground.

There were no words to explain what he had just witnessed, no description in the human language to explain the emotion swelling in chest. Was it pride or love or some strange mix? Dean didn’t know. He didn’t care either.

Dean blinked back into reality when he felt a gentle tap on his arm, turning his head to find Ben sitting next to him.

“Everything okay, dad?” he asked. “You zoned out and I wasn’t really sure if you were like alive or what.”

“All good, just thinking about all the memories in this place. Doesn’t matter, we’ll make plenty of memories in the new place.”

“If we get there in one piece.”

Dean raised an eyebrow but Ben was already sliding off of the hood and into the front seat, knowing Dean wouldn’t dare pull any of his tricks in the car. The car was Dean’s second child and everyone who knew him knew that. Dean didn’t bother to question Ben or retaliate when he got in the car, simply getting them on their way before either of them could change their minds.

Ben made it about two hours before he passed out in the front seat, pillow pressed against the window and legs curled up and in on the seat. He’d always fallen asleep in the car, ever since he was a kid, and Dean had always counted that blessing whenever they’d had to make trips for the tournaments or games for the school teams. Dean drove faster than he meant to along the relatively empty road, the miles and miles passing as the hours did. They left sometime around 10 pm and Dean stopped at 2 am for a snack and coffee break before he continued on, letting the Metallica play in the background of his thoughts.

Paradise Hills was their destination. According to Mary and Charlie it was the kind of city big enough to have things to do but small enough that it wasn’t overwhelming or impossible to navigate. Mary lived closer to the edge of town on a property with enough space for a small homestead while Charlie lived in the center of the city in an apartment she shared with a revolving door of roommates. Dean was somewhere in the middle of them, a house on a street with enough neighbours but also a yard big enough for a small shop if he felt so inclined to pick up another hobby.

He passed the city limits sign sometime around quarter to six and managed to find his way to Ravencrest Drive just after 6 am. His timing wasn’t ideal as traffic seemed to pick up just as he pulled into the driveway of the house he and Ben would now be calling their own. It was a simple two story, 3 bed 2 bath, and the outside looked decent enough when Dean stepped out of the car to examine it. The house was brick and the roofing a complimentary colour, nothing special but not a suburban eyesore like he had been fearful of.

With a little elbow grease and entirely too many trips to the hardware store, Dean could easily make it his own.

“I really don’t want to unpack everything.” Dean mumbled as he began to unload the car, planning on letting Ben sleep as long as possible. He managed to lug everything inside with only a small sweat before he bit the bullet and opened the passenger door, reaching out to gently shake Ben’s shoulder. “C’mon kiddo, time to get up.”

Ben groaned, tiredly swatting at Dean’s hand as he stirred. “Don’t wanna get up, still tired.”

“Well we’re here so it’s get up and sleep on the couch inside until we unpack or stay asleep in the car that’s going to get real hot real fast.”

Ben complained under his breath as he extracted himself from the front seat, legs wobbling and giving out when the pins and needles hit him. Dean caught him, heart panging at the irony, and decided to have mercy. He picked Ben up, slinging him over his shoulder, before heading towards the house.

“This is the only time I’m carrying you, just so you know. I’m old and you’re getting heavy.” Dean mumbled, unceremoniously dumping Ben on the couch in the living room.

“Thanks Dad.”

Dean nodded and when he was satisfied that Ben would stay on the couch and fall back asleep, he went out to collect the final few items from the car before he could start the gargantuan task of unpacking their entire house. As Dean scanned the neighbourhood from his vantage point on the front porch, he could feel all eyes of the neighbourhood turn to him.

For once in his life, Dean welcomed the attention.

Chapter Text

Dean felt like he was losing the unpacking battle before he even began, arms crossed over his chest as he stared at the boxes and wrapped furniture upstairs. He’d wanted to unpack in the kitchen first but Ben was still passed out on the couch downstairs and the last thing he wanted to do was wake him up. They’d barely survived getting there and Dean didn’t want another temper flare to interrupt what he needed to do.

He started with Ben’s room, hoping he’d be able to get everything reassembled so he could move his son off of the couch and into the bedroom. The dresser and desk were easy enough to assemble and position, the clothing even easier to unpack and put away, but the bed was an entirely different beast.

“If you cut me, I swear to God.” Dean muttered under his breath as he screwed the metal frame together, sitting on the floor with screwdriver in hand.

He’d built all kinds of furniture from scratch, dreamt of all kinds of inventions, but the twisted monster of metal slats in front of him was quickly besting him. Dean felt satisfaction swell in his chest when he managed to assemble most of the frame but it didn’t last. Deep in thought as he fought to get the bedframe where it needed to be, he was startled by Ben’s voice.

“Need any help?”

Dean jumped and the bedframe slipped from his hand, dropping square onto his foot. He swore under his breath before pulling the bedframe off of his foot and turning to face Ben, trying to hide how much his foot hurt.

“With your room, no. You can finish unpacking here, I’ve got a million other rooms to deal with.”

“I can do that.”

Dean seemed to relax slightly when Ben shuffled in to help, stepping aside to let him have a go at the suitcase. He thought about leaving Ben to his own devices but decided against it, leaning against the doorframe instead. “Come see me when you’re done unpacking and maybe we’ll make a trip out to get some decorations for you since you don’t have many.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, kiddo, I’m serious. Have fun unpacking.”

Dean left Ben alone after that, ignoring his own bedroom and heading downstairs to unpack the kitchen and the living room. He tackled the kitchen first, hauling the green tub containing all of their pots and pans onto the wooden table. All the pots and pans went into the bottom cabinets and the dinnerware into the upper cabinets. The coffeemaker and kettle went onto the quartz countertops along with the fruit bowl and paper towel holder and the million other things

It was a decent sized kitchen, enough for a family, and given Dean’s lack of affinity for dinner parties, it was perfect. He liked the mossy green backsplash and the neutral whiteish beige of the countertops but knew he was going to strip the paint from the cabinets and stain them a nicer brown colour. The island would probably be torn down and built back up again but that was a project for a later time.

With the kitchen in a decent enough state, Dean turned his attention to the living room.

Dean dragged the couch and loveseat to their proper positions around the walnut coffee table he’d made in school. The table was simple and more than a little ugly but Dean could never bring himself to throw it away. If being secretly sentimental was a crime then he’d be expecting the police soon. He took a moment to catch his breath, sinking into the firm cushions of the grey couch as he stared at the two sets of initials carved into the wood and let the memory overtake him.

The pocketknife clattered to the ground when Dean heard the small voice echoing from the door to the living room. His heart jumped, startled as he turned around to face his son.

“What are you doing up?” he asked, opening his arms.

Ben, eight years old and clad in dinosaur pajamas, shuffled over to Dean and climbed into his lap. He curled up there, head resting on Dean’s chest as he looked at the coffee table.

“Bad dreams.” He said, eyes scanning the freshly carved letters in the coffee table. “Why are there letters on the table?”

Dean wrapped his arms around Ben, kissing the top of his head. “Those are my initials. I made this table today and thought it needed them. Do you want to talk about your dream?”

“I heard someone calling my name and I think it was Mommy but I couldn’t see her. I think I found her but I don’t know because she didn’t have a face. Why didn’t she have a face?”

Dean squeezed Ben just a little bit tighter, hoping he wouldn’t pick up on the sudden speed of his heart. He’d known Ben was going to ask, had told himself he was prepared, but he wasn’t. There was no good answer he could give Ben, not one that would satisfy his son and not one that would leave Dean in any sort of reasonable state.

“Sometimes when you don’t know someone, you can’t tell what they look like.” Dean explained. “That must’ve been really scary, not knowing who she was.”

“What does mommy look like? Why won’t you talk about her? Everyone else has a mommy.”

“Your mommy has long dark hair and brown eyes. She was very pretty, had a smile that would light up a room too. But sometimes people have a hard time talking about people that aren’t in their lives anymore. She’s not in my life or yours anymore so it’s hard to talk about her.”

Ben frowned but didn’t ask another question about her. He was too distracted by the sudden pain in Dean’s voice, a pain he hadn’t heard in his eight years of living. It didn’t sound like his dad, his dad was never sad.

“I don’t need a mommy when I have you.” Ben said, wrapping his arms around Dean in a tight hug. “Can I put my initials down too?”

Dean hugged back, blinking back tears before he reached for the permanent marker he’d set on the table. “Tell you what, you can write your initials and then I’ll carve them. Is that okay?”

Ben let go of Dean and took the marker, carefully focusing on the table as he drew his initials with his neatest writing. Dean watched him and when Ben was satisfied with it, Dean picked up the pocketknife and carved his initials into the table.

Ben was thrilled when Dean finished and hugged him again, keeping his arms around Dean’s neck. “I love you, dad.”

“I love you too, Ben. Now let’s get you back to bed and yes, I’ll read you a story.”

Satisfied with his short break, Dean got back to work. He managed to get the bookshelves and tv stand put together and in place before he decided to take another break, sitting back on the couch. Cutting through the tape and bubble wrap was enough of a workout that his hands were beginning to ache and kneeling on the carpeted floor guaranteed that his knees were aching.

He’d just gotten to the first box of smaller items when he heard the stairs creak and he glanced up. “You finish all your unpacking?”

“As much as I’m gonna get done today, yeah. Haven’t finished my clothes but everything else is basically done. Getting kind of hungry, it’s like almost 6.”

Dean’s brows knit together in confusion. There was absolutely no way he’d spent almost the last 12 hours unpacking without so much as a drink of water or a snack but he glanced up at the clock he had just hung and Ben was right. It had been 12 hours. As if on cue, Dean’s stomach growled.

“We’ll have to grocery shop and decorate tomorrow, don’t think your old man can handle a crazy outing after all this work.”

“Works for me. Did some googling, there’s a burger place nearby that’s apparently pretty good.”

Dean nodded and got to his feet without another word, snagging his keys from the hook in the entryway, before heading out with Ben. If there was one thing the pair had bonded over in their fifteen years together, it was their shared love of food and various cuisines. They tried as many iterations as possible and had a rotating menu for the couple times a month they decided to go out and get takeout. Thai was at the top, followed closely by Vietnamese and Indian.

The burger place was more than happy to provide them each with a burger and a generous helping of fries, their service quick and effective. It helped that it was a five minute drive from home too. Dean got their food laid out on the kitchen table before he dug in, grease dripping from the burger in his hands.

“So, I’m gonna need you to make a list of any groceries you want or meals you want or any decorations or anything else you want for tomorrow. I’ve got a grocery list in my head already but my brain isn’t yours.”

“Your brain’s gonna be overrun the second we pass any kind of hardware store, let’s be honest here.” Ben replied, making an observation more than teasing Dean. “Think any neighbours are gonna stop by tomorrow?”

“Okay, rude, but not wrong. And maybe, I don’t know. Felt a few eyes when I pulled in this morning but didn’t see anyone.”

“Guarantee one of our neighbours is some old lady who probably glares at everyone who walks by her house. Seems like something that would happen here.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, amused. “And you’re going to be an incredibly polite young man if we do have an old lady for a neighbour, or anyone as a neighbour for that matter. Don’t do what I did when I was your age.”

“What’d you do?”

“Remember Mrs. Montgomery?”

Ben shuddered in response. He remembered her alright, remembered her half blind eyes and sharp piercing voice. He’d lost a volleyball in her yard once and she’d popped it right in front of him without so much as a second thought. She was nasty.

“Yeah well, I may have broken a window or two of hers when I was younger so it’s not entirely your fault she never liked you. Messed up her fence once, she made me repaint it like I was Huckleberry Finn and I definitely did not appreciate that. So be good or you’ll end up like me.”

“Ending up single at 33, yikes. Couldn’t be me.”

Dean knew Ben was joking but scoffed in offence anyway picking up a fry and chucking it at him. He watched it bounce off of Ben’s cheek and onto the plate, oddly satisfied.

“Someone has to take you to all of your games and work and grocery shop and pay the bills. Being single is a choice at this point.”

It was Ben’s turn to raise an eyebrow and he did, taking a pause to eat the fry Dean threw at him before he replied. “You’ve been on a grand total of three dates in the last five years which tells me you’re capable of getting dates so obviously you’re choosing not to. Which I mean do what you want but come on.”

“I don’t understand you sometimes. Yesterday you’re yelling at me for moving away from your friends and now you’re telling me to get a life and date again. I was not this bad at your age.”

“Right, cuz you were worse. Grandma says as much.”

Dean sighed again, scrubbing a hand over his face. Ben was right and he knew he couldn’t argue with that, not if he wanted Mary to keep the few secrets of his he hadn’t had get out yet. It was absolutely infuriating.

“I feel like we’ve talked enough about my dating life so let’s stop now. I’ve got to start unpacking my stuff so I’ll be upstairs.”

“Don’t drop another bedframe on your foot.”

Dean rolled his eyes though he did crack a smile, leaving Ben to his own devices. His room was the final room in the house to unpack and from the very beginning it was a disaster. First it was the chest dresser with three jammed drawers and then the two nightstands with panels that had split in transit but it was the bedframe that did Dean in. Again.

Some of the hardware from the storage drawers had fallen off and when Dean went to lay the slats down across the frame, one of them cracked. Two of the screws to secure the headboard had mysteriously vanished and then Dean couldn’t find his screwdriver until he nearly tripped over it. He gave up after that, resigning himself to sleeping on his mattress on the floor until he could make a trip to the hardware store and pick up exactly what he needed to fix everything.

Dean passed out around 10 pm, exhausted from the mix of driving, unpacking, and general turmoil of the culmination of his life and career decisions.

The first thing Dean did when he woke up was make a beeline straight for the singular cup of coffee left in the coffeemaker, craving the caffeine and the energy it provided. Sure it was more oil fuel than coffee but that’s exactly what he was going to need with everything he had to do today. The excitement died the second he walked into the kitchen, faced with Ben and a coffee mug he was clearly using.

“You drank the last of the coffee.”

Ben glanced down at the half empty mug before sliding it over to Dean. “Drank half of it, you can have the other half. It was too sludgy for me.”

“I’ll pass on that, thanks. You ready to get a move on?”

“Been ready for like two hours. Think you should probably get dressed though, not sure yesterday’s clothes are gonna be a hit in the neighbourhood.”

Dean glanced down at his wrinkled shirt and stained jeans before deciding he should change. He nipped upstairs, threw on a new pair of pants and a t-shirt from his suitcase, and made his way back downstairs. The pair headed into town, Ben looking forward to exploring and Dean still irritated his coffee had been drunk.

They hit the hardware store first, Dean giddier than he meant to be. There was something comforting about the rows and rows of wood and hardware, the scent of timber a lure impossible to ignore. He knew the wood, knew how it behaved, and knew exactly what he was looking for. A beam of sugar maple called his name and he answered, mind swirling with the possibilities.

Ben was bored as he followed Dean around, unable to understand why his father was so drawn to this place. He knew Dean liked woodworking, knew that carpentry was his job, but there was a difference between being passionate about something and looking like you wanted to take the wood out to a fancy dinner and have some fun afterwards.

“Hey, I’m gonna go take a look at something else. I’ll meet you at checkout.” Ben said before he slipped away from Dean, choosing to wander down a random aisle. The spray paint aisle, as it turned out, was a lot more fun than he’d been expecting.

There was a girl in the aisle, crouched down as her eyes scanned the myriad of cans in front of her. Her long blonde hair covered her face until she swept it aside, eyes staring intently at Ben. They were blue, a startling blue, and Ben almost felt a little uncomfortable as he met her gaze.

“Hey, you got a minute?” She asked, turning back to the paint cans. “I can’t decide which of these looks the most like blood.”

Ben raised an eyebrow but crouched down to look at the cans too, eyes settling on two different colours. “Are you going for straight from the vein blood or like a dried blood? Cuz the rusty red’ll work better for dried but go with the sanguine if you want it fresh.”

“Sanguine it is.”

“I think I’m gonna regret asking this but I’m gonna ask anyway,” he said as he stood back up, “What’s the bloody paint colour for?”

“Why d’you wanna know?”

He shrugged, watching her rise to her feet. She was shorter than he thought and his eyes fell to the pendant around her neck, a freaky looking moon with gemstone eyes the colour of fire. It reminded him a bit of Ada Freeman, the emo girl at his old school everyone would torment. Evil Ada they’d called her, Evil Ada with her batty style and creepy music. He’d always sort of liked how different she was.

“It’s for an art piece I’m doing, just so you know.” She said, pausing to fiddle with one of the beaded bracelets on her wrist. It was then that she really took a good look at Ben, eyeliner lined eyes narrowing as she took him in. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

“I just moved. My name’s Ben.”

“Call me Claire.” She said, offering him a small smile.

Ben smiled back, slowly relaxing in front of the strange girl. Obviously he’d just met her but there was something crooked and mischievous in her smile and he liked that. He liked the way she dressed, he liked that she was apparently an artist, and he really liked that she was talking to him.

Claire began to speak but was interrupted, a far off voice calling her name. She sighed and grabbed a can of paint before turning on her heel. “See you around, Ben.”

With that she was gone and Ben was left dumbfounded in the middle of the aisle, confused by the random girl he’d met and maybe made friends with. He was still in the stupor as he made his way back to Dean, standing next to him through checkout and on the way back out. He’d forgotten to ask for her Instagram or her snapchat or her number, not that she would’ve given it to him anyway, but he was kicking himself on the inside for it.

Dean didn’t say anything until they were in the car and that’s when he turned, gently prodding. “You’re pretty quiet, what’s on your mind?”

“Met a girl in the paint aisle.”

Dean’s eyebrow shot up, clearly suspicious.

“No, not like that.” Ben said quickly. “She wanted my opinion on paint for some kind of art piece she was doing, she seemed cool.”

“I mean that’s good that you met someone, even if it was for five minutes. You get her snapchat? Is that what you guys are using now?”

“It is and no, I didn’t. It’s fine though, pretty sure she’ll go to the same school as me so maybe I can find her then.”

“Not a bad idea. Anyways, we’re still getting groceries and I thought maybe we could make fried chicken tonight? Feels festive enough.”

“Sure, that works.”

Dean nodded and left the conversation at that, heading off towards the grocery store. Ben wasn’t usually very forthcoming on his encounters with people out in the wild, particularly random girls who liked spray paint for art, so he chose not to push. It had been a short conversation and he highly doubted it was anything more than the pair being friendly. Even if it was more, Ben deserved to have a good time and make his own decisions.

As he drove, Dean’s mind drifted to yet another memory.

The rush of cool air as the glass doors slid open to welcome Dean to 7/11 was glorious, like the first breath of crisp fall air. Except it wasn’t fall, it was the middle of August and the temperatures had reached a zenith where even the concrete was beginning to melt. His boots echoed on the tile floor as he wandered down the aisles, mind elsewhere. There was a distant tugging on his arm as Sam, his little nine year old brother, tried to get his attention.

“Dean, I wanna get a slurpee! Mom said we could.”

Dean stopped, glancing down at Sam before fishing a couple crumpled bills out of his pocket. “You go and get one then, I’m gonna grab a bag of chips.”

Sam nodded, practically rushing off to go claim his prize while Dean stopped in the middle of the aisle. There was someone else there, her long brown hair tied into a ponytail hanging from her head. She had a tank top on, some awful orange hue that didn’t compliment her pretty features when she turned around.

Dean stared for a moment before he noticed the bag of salt and vinegar chips in her hand. It was only when his eyes landed on the empty spot where they usually were that he realized there were none left.

The girl was staring at him, smiling that soft smile he recognized from the other girls at school. It was the kind of smile they’d put on and hope you’d secretly notice, the kind of smile that said they thought you were cool and that they liked you. He stared closer, eyes widening when he recognized the smattering of freckles on her face. Dean knew her, more than just knew her. He liked her.

“Hey Lisa.” He smiled. “Haven’t seen you since break started. What’ve you been up to?”

“Camp, mostly. All girls though so it kind of sucks. Wish there was a cute guy there.”

Dean blinked slowly. “Oh that does suck. Maybe you’ll get lucky and find a cute guy somewhere.”

“Like in the middle of a 7/11 staring at the last bag of salt and vinegar chips.” She grinned.

Dean nearly short circuited, his heart starting suddenly. She thought he was cute and she’d admitted it too! It was practically the best day of his life.

“Well I happen to think the girl in the middle of 7/11 holding the last bag of salt and vinegar chips is cute.”

Lisa blushed, a red tinge to her cheeks that very well could’ve been a sunburn for everyone not privy to their conversation.

Sam had returned by then, interrupting their conversation, but Dean knew it wouldn’t be the end of them.

The grocery store was relatively empty when the pair finally made it inside, deciding to tackle the shopping list by dividing and conquering it. Dean tackled produce and the outer ring while Ben darted through the aisles. He managed to slip a few things into the cart that he knew Dean noticed but Dean didn’t say anything so he assumed it was fine. With groceries in bags and money well spent, the duo headed back home to continue unpacking and start prepping for supper.

Dean was elbow deep in dredging the chicken when he heard a knock at the door and his expression shifted, confusion on his face. They weren’t expecting company and he wasn’t exactly dressed in his Sunday best either. He glanced over at Ben as if to ask if Ben had heard the knock.

“Yeah I heard it. Kind of watching the chicken though so I can’t grab it.”

Dean sighed before wiping his flour coated hands on his apron, making his way to the front door. He didn’t know what to expect on the other side so he opened the door with some caution, unprepared to play nice for some little old lady. What he didn’t expect was three different people on his front porch.

His eyes landed on the girl first, maybe sixteen with blonde hair and eyeliner. She was grungy and Dean had a sneaking suspicion she might’ve been the girl that Ben had met in the hardware store. There was another kid next to her, her brother maybe. He was a bit taller than her but didn’t seem all that abnormal save for the horrifically patterned Hawaiian button up he had on.

It was the man in the middle who caught the tail end of Dean’s attention, tall and dark haired and really just an average looking dude. He was clearly related to the boy and more than likely related to the girl, their father maybe.

“Can I help you?” Dean asked, suddenly very conscious that he was meeting random people in a pink flour covered apron.

“Nice apron.” Claire snickered.

“Don’t be rude, Claire.” The man said, shooting Dean an apologetic look. “Sorry about her, she tends to say what’s on her mind. Anyhow, we’re your neighbours on the left. I’m Cas, Jack and Claire are my kids.”

Dean nodded before he stepped aside. “You’re welcome to come in, my son and I are just in the middle of making dinner. I’m Dean by the way.”

“Thank you.” Cas said as he stepped inside, the kids following him inside. “We thought we’d welcome you to the neighbourhood, brought you a pie.”

The pie looked like something out of a dream, perfectly latticed crust sprinkled with sugar and an oozing filling that didn’t smell too sweet. It was raspberry if Dean had to guess. He was pleased that someone in the neighbourhood was nice enough to say hello and bring food, even more pleased it was someone around his own age. Maybe they’d be friends.

“I won’t say no to that.” Dean chuckled as he led them to the kitchen, gesturing to the table and chairs that were empty.

He began to introduce Ben but Ben had already looked up, eyes wide with recognition. They fell on Claire and then he was smiling despite himself. Claire recognized him almost immediately and she grinned back, not shy at all as she shuffled over to him. “Long time no see.”

“A whole four hours.” Ben chuckled. “Guess we’re neighbours.”

“Hope your dad’s cooler than mine because mine’s a little lame and I need a new place to hang out.”

Ben shook his head, turning away for a moment to pick up the remaining piece of chicken out of the oil. He set it on the paper towel and dumped the cut fries in before continuing the conversation. “My dad’s alright, I guess. I don’t think he’s that interesting but also I don’t really care.”

“Valid. Dads just kind of suck until they suddenly don’t.”

“I don’t think Dad sucks.” Jack said, wandering over.

Ben hadn’t paid him much mind before but now he was taking a good look. He was tallish and had a good natured gap toothed smile but that wasn’t what drew Ben’s eye. First it was the god awful Hawaiian shirt he was wearing, dark blue with teal palm trees and hot pink flamingos, and then it was his hands. His nails were painted, a bright canary yellow that wasn’t awful so much as it was dated.

Ben knew a kid who wore nail polish in high school, Danny Reddick. Danny had been a cool enough guy, confident enough in his all black ensemble. He’d been mercilessly bullied though and Ben wondered if this kid had been bullied too, if he was being bullied.

“You’ll probably change your mind soon. They always find a way.” Ben said.

As the kids conversed, Dean and Cas sat at the kitchen table. Dean had taken off the apron and hung it on the hook, suddenly less self-conscious. Pink wasn’t his colour, though he suspected Rhonda Hurley might disagree with him. He’d pulled out a beer for himself and one for Cas, both sitting open on the table.

“So, Paradise Hills then. What made you pull the trigger on this place?” Cas asked, leaning back in the chair as he chatted with Dean.

“Work, family, the usual. Got a really good job opportunity and figured why not.”

Cas dragged his eyes down Dean’s body, trying to figure out what he did for work. He could see the tanned muscular arms and followed them down to Dean’s hands. They were large but toned and Cas imagined they’d be calloused if he turned them over and examined them. There was something so attractive about a man who worked with his hands, a weakness of Cas’, and Dean most certainly worked with his hands.

“You seem like you work with your hands. Construction?”

“Carpentry. Mostly carpentry anyway, know enough about enough to be handy for everything I suppose.”

Cas nodded, impressed. “You’ll be popular around the neighbourhood then. Someone’s always got something breaking, usually the guys down the street.”

Dean chuckled, taking another swig of beer. He was used to fixing things for neighbours, even enjoyed it from time to time. Sometimes they’d feed him or give him a case of beer and in one memorable event, the butcher down the block had given him several decent steaks in repayment for installing a new butcher block counter. Even if the action wasn’t repaid, it was still a good chance to get to know everyone and figure out their deals.

“Anyone I should worry about in the neighbourhood?”

“Worry as in don’t look at their lawn or they’ll call the HOA or worry as in you’re going to have a cougar banging down your door for a date?”

Dean’s eyebrow shot up and he nearly choked on his beer. “I’m hoping that last bit was a joke.”

“Every joke’s got a ring of truth but no, nothing to worry about here. Everyone’s a bit odd but they’re all pretty reasonable people. There’s actually a block potluck tomorrow, you and your son should drop by.”

“Do I need to bring anything because all I’ve got is the chicken we just finished making and there’s probably enough for several people.”

“Don’t bother bringing anything, I highly doubt anyone’ll be expecting it. Between you and I, we’ve all been wondering who was moving in. You’re quite the popular bit of news around the neighbourhood.”

“Well I don’t think we’re all that special but thanks.”

Cas smiled again and finished his beer before he stood up, stretching his arms. “Thanks for the conversation but I think we best get going, don’t want to overstay our welcome. We’re just next door if you’re ever bored and need something to do or someone to talk to.”

“I’m sure you’ll be seeing plenty of us.” Dean said, getting to his feet as well. “Thanks for the pie and the introduction.”

Cas waited for Claire and Jack to tear themselves away from Ben, offered one more friendly smile with eye contact, and then the trio left. Dean relaxed when the door was closed and he was alone with Ben, shoulders deflating. The day had been busy and he was exhausted so he dropped back into his chair with a plate of food, Ben dropping next to him.

“Can’t believe Claire’s our neighbour. She’s actually so cool.”

“Glad you like someone your age.” Dean said, taking the last swig of his beer. “What do you think of her brother?”

“He’s fine, a little weird but no one’s perfect. His nail polish was cool I guess.”

“Didn’t realize he was wearing nail polish. Cool his dad is down with that.”

Ben nodded, collecting the empty plates so they could start on the dishes. “What do you think of their dad? I didn’t actually get to talk to him.”

Dean had to think for a moment, unsure of what to say. They hadn’t talked long but the man seemed nice enough. He certainly had a dry sense of humour and Dean didn’t mind that either. The only thing he didn’t like was the eye contact the man made. It was intense, the kind of intense that felt reserved for people who were more than just friends or were about to be more than just friends.

“He seems alright, just too much eye contact for me. Got a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot more of them.”

With that final statement of the conversation, the pair set to work to do the cleanup in the kitchen. Ben’s mind drifted to Claire and Jack, the promise of friends too alluring to resist. Dean’s mind drifted to Cas and all of the others in the neighbourhood.

He had no doubt that he’d meet a whole cast of characters the next day.

Chapter Text

Dean spent most of the night unpacking the remainder of his room, doing his best to be as quiet as possible so he didn’t wake Ben up. Ben had been unfortunate to pick up two of the worst Winchester genetic traits: light sleeping and incredible morning irritability. He’d found that out when Ben had turned 12 and puberty had struck. No one had prepared Dean for the monster that would bring about.

He’d managed to get the bedframe to cooperate, had reattached all of the dresser hardware, and had even been able to set up his collectibles and the posters. The bedroom felt a bit like that of a teenager, filled with too many interests and knickknacks to be the room of a fully grown adult with a job and a child. But Dean didn’t care. He liked his art prints and horror movie rug and the cherry red guitar he had tucked in the corner with books of sheet music.

It was 8 by the time he managed to finish unpacking and catch a few hours of shut eye so he was grumpy when he woke up. Coffee helped, black just the way he liked it, and a hot shower with great water pressure helped even more. Dean felt human by the time he got dressed, a pair of work jeans and a faded t-shirt perfect for the plans he had for the morning. He left coffee for Ben for when he woke up before he ventured into the backyard, curious to see the space he was working with.

It was a decent size with a low fence and ratty grass, the kind that could easily be mowed if Dean cared enough about that. He didn’t, not yet anyway. What he did do was lug out all of his smaller personal tools and chuck them in the shed, planning on reorganizing them later. They’d go on the peg board and the bench and the million toolboxes he had along with his steel toes and safety glasses.

“Why the fuck is it so hot out here.” He mumbled to no one in particular, stepping out of the shed so he could grab the wood he’d bought the day prior. A mix of maple, oak, and a particularly nice piece of teakwood, every single piece already had a project.

There was no answer on the hot air but there was a suspicious noise, a steady buzzing that Dean hadn’t noticed before. He crept towards the noise and the low fence, taking a glance over it. Dean was met with three white boxes all lined up in a row, each one as tall as his hip. There were bees buzzing around the boxes, flitting in and out of the small holes, but they became the background when Dean got a look at the rest of the yard.

The lawn wasn’t a lawn at all but a soft looking stretch of clover and natural plants, flowers blooming as they wound up trellises and the fence. There was a tree in the back corner of the yard, one that Dean didn’t recognize but was sure was some kind of wood he’d seen at least once in his career. Most of the backyard was taken up by rows and rows of dirt, vegetables growing quickly. Heads of lettuce, tomato plants nearly bent in half, pepper plants snapped by the weight of their produce, every single plant looked like it was ready to harvest and was bursting with potential. Dean was under the spell of the sudden paradise he saw before him, nearly jumping out of his skin when he heard a deep voice in the quiet air.

“Don’t pull a Rapunzel, I’d hate to steal your firstborn away and lock him in a tower.”

Hand to his chest, Dean found himself staring at his good neighbour again. In the light of the morning Cas looked different, almost rugged. Maybe it was just the bed head and the sky blue robe.

“You can have him for free, no lettuce needed. A tower might do him so good.”

Cas raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “I’m sure he’s not that bad, he’s probably just going through the usual angsty teen phase. Lord knows Claire’s doing that and it’s exhausting.”

“Boy problems?”

“No, surprisingly. Just the usual friends and hobbies drama I guess.”

“Oh, that’s fun?” Dean said, phrasing it as a question though it really wasn’t. “I’m not sure what I’d do if Ben had girl problems. Wouldn’t end well I don’t think.”

Cas shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee. The mug was ceramic and it was hideous, a lumpy mess with a blue glaze and yellow blobs that Dean imagined were probably bees. It looked like a forsaken art project. Dean realized he’d been staring a bit too long when he heard Cas chuckle.

“It’s an ugly mug, I’m aware. The kids made it for my birthday when they were younger and I’ve never been able to throw it away.”

“Well I wasn’t gonna comment on the mug but you’re not wrong. Never had Ben do that, thank God, but he never let me get rid of a thanksgiving hand turkey he made when he was like 8 so it just lives on the fridge.”

“The things we do for our kids.”

Dean nodded, leaning against the fence. He hasn’t planned on talking with Cas but he was enjoying the casual conversation, eyes drifting to the garden and the beehives. “Have to admit, wasn’t expecting to see a garden and beehives. You big on gardening?”

“Very. It’s easy, keeps the grocery bills down, and helps out with work. Kind of a no brainer really.”

What Cas was saying made sense and Dean found himself impressed. He was impressed the other man was managing not only two kids but a job and a burgeoning garden as well. The man didn’t look too tired either, a feat Dean was sure was superhuman. Dean thought about continuing the conversation but Claire was poking her head out of Cas’ back door and calling to let him know that Jack was being an asshole and he needed to come fix it.

“Well Dean, duty calls. See you at the block party.”

Dean watched Cas shuffle into the house and decided he needed to retreat to his own place, planning on psyching himself up for the block party.

As it turned out, the block party really felt like a party. When Dean and Ben finally left their house, the street was already bustling. Tables upon tables were stacked with all manner of dishes with two separate tables containing only meat and another two only for desserts. It wasn’t a glorified potluck like Dean had expected and he felt a pang of guilt for not bringing anything. Ben felt no such guilt and made an immediate beeline for Claire and Jack, attaching himself to their hips as their newest bestest friend.

Dean took a deep breath, steeling himself to be friendly and approachable, and stepped off of his porch and onto the street. Most of the people seemed to pay him no mind, mixed groups mingling and chatting with each other while the smaller children ran around. It felt a little too cliquey to be comfortable so Dean made a beeline for the food since several others seemed to be doing so.

He piled his plate high, within a reasonable limit of course, and chose to forego dessert until he had a chance to sample more of the food. What he did do was stop at the final table with all of the drink options, eyes scanning over them. There was coffee of course and a myriad of pops and juices for the kids but Dean settled on looking at the beers. He passed the bud and busch, searching for anything better.

“You won’t find anything aside from maybe a Keith’s if you’re picky.”

Dean glanced up, the unfamiliar voice making him curious. The man was average but Dean’s eyes were drawn to the longer curl of his hair, a length Billy Ray Cyrus would’ve been proud of. It was a tad too country for Dean’s taste but that didn’t really matter.

“It’s not that I’m picky, it’s just that busch and bud are like having sex in a canoe.”

The man raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Dean continued.

“They’re both fucking close to water.”

The other man snorted, taking a moment to collect himself. His grin was good natured as he extended a hand for Dean to shake. Dean shook it, impressed with the firm grip and slightly calloused hand.

“My name’s Lee,” the man said as he withdrew his hand. “I’m assuming you’re the new neighbour down the street.”

“Yeah, name’s Dean. My kid’s around here somewhere, probably causing problems with Claire and Jack.”

“Good to know you’ve met the Novaks, they’re probably the easiest to meet first. Most normal anyway.”

“Not sure having bees and a full garden in your backyard is normal but I’m not one to judge, I’ve got a whole shed and shop in the works. He makes a hell of a good pie though, I’ll give him that.”

Lee nodded his head in agreement. Cas was known around the neighbourhood for a number of things, but largely for his produce and baked goods. As far as Lee and the rest of the neighbours were convinced, Cas had supernatural abilities when it came to pies. They’d never tasted a bad one, never seen a burnt one, and weren’t even sure they’d seen him secretly throw one out in the middle of the night.

“You said you’ve got a shop and shed in the works, sounds fun. You in a trade?”

“Carpentry for the last 15 years, ticketed and everything.” Dean said, unable to help but slip in the brag. He’d worked hard for that certification, harder than he’d ever worked before, and he was proud of it. “You?”

“Co-own a bar.” Lee said, pausing to wave another man over. This man was average too, decked out in jeans a black t-shirt. There was a self-assurance to the way he carried himself and Dean picked up on it right away. The man stopped next to Lee, close enough to invade his personal space.

“This the mysterious new neighbour?”

Lee nodded. “Dean, this is Benny. Benny, Dean.”

“Well Dean, welcome to the neighbourhood. How are you finding it?”

Dean was caught off guard when he heard Benny speak. He had an accent and not the kind of accent that belonged in Kansas. It was more southern, Louisiana maybe, and Dean liked it. There was a certain charm to it, the kind of charm that instantly puts people at ease. These two seemed normal enough.

“It’s uh… different. People seem nicer than they did back in Lawrence.”

“Oh you’ll find out most of the people in the neighbourhood are really just strange. I mean we’ve got bar owners, an apothecary owner, whatever the hell Castiel gets up to, and then a dentist and teacher.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. He was oddly comforted that Benny and Lee didn’t seem to know what Cas did either. “Feel like owning a bar isn’t that strange but I don’t exactly know many bar owners either. Please tell me it’s not one of those like sticky nightclub nightmares because I need a new hangout spot and I’m not about to lose another pair of jeans to some twenty-something who can’t hold down her vodka cran.”

“God no.” Benny said, wrapping an arm around Lee’s shoulders. “This one here decided on Swayze’s so that’s what it is. Call it country ish if you will, greasy food and cheap booze but the live music’ll knock you on your ass with how great it is.”

“I don’t think it’ll knock you on your ass but some of ‘em aren’t bad.’

“Well there’s only one band I’m dying to see but I’m pretty sure they’re local to the area so maybe you know ‘em. They call themselves Marid, it’s kind of a folk rock vibe.”

Lee choked on the sip of beer he’d taken, face taking on an alarming shade of firetruck red. Benny was laughing before he could stop himself, grip tight on Lee’s shoulder as he patted his back. He hadn’t expected that avenue of conversation at all. Dean was too busy being confused at all of their reactions, brain trying to wrap around why Lee was dying and why Benny was keeping the man so close and laughing.

“Feel like I’m missing out on a joke here.” Dean said, eyes still scanning the pair.

Lee shook his head, pulling away from Benny. “Not missing a joke. I just happen to know all of the guys from Marid, they play pretty often at the bar.”

“I’m pretty close with the lead singer too,” Benny grinned as he wound his arms back around Lee. He could see the gears in Dean’s brain working but wasn’t sure if it was figuring out the unspoken knowledge of the band’s lead singer or if it was trying to contextualize how close he was with Lee. Either way it was entertaining. “They’re playing next month, you should swing by.”

Dean nodded his head, promising that he’d do just that. As he stood and talked with the pair, Ben and the Novaks had descended upon the dessert table and carried away their prizes like eagles after a successful hunt. Claire sat there with her rice krispies and Ben with his slice of cake, Jack the clear victor with a plate piled high enough it should’ve had its own air space.

“So,” Ben said as he cut himself a bite of the cake, “how long have you two lived in the neighbourhood?”

“Almost 16 years, why?” Claire replied.

“Means you two know everyone in the neighbourhood and obviously my dad’s kind of making friends but let’s face it, he needs all the help he can to make as many friends as possible. Also means you two know all the other kids in the neighbourhood.”

“Well our dads were talking this morning so they’re friendly enough I guess. Dad’s got a bit of a way of being nice and charming and worming his way into everyone else’s lives, it’s why all the neighbours love him. No other kids ‘cept for you now and Jack’s too much of an old soul to count.”

“I do too count!”

Claire grinned, playfully pushing Jack. It was entirely too easy to get under her sibling’s skin and she took great joy in doing it, even if it wasn’t pushing very much. Ben seemed like he was tougher and Claire was excited to dig deeper into that. Pushing buttons was her specialty and it seemed like he had a lot.

“Moving on from who counts and who doesn’t, if you take a look you’ll see your dad being approached by another neighbour. We all call her the cougar behind her back, but also kind of to her face too. It’s like a term of endearment kind of thing I think.”

“What’s her actual name though?” Ben asked.

The woman was far enough away that he couldn’t see her face but he could see that she was short and he could see her red hair secured by a sparkling clip. She had a flouncy blouse and some kind of wide leg pant on, something entirely too fancy for the block party. He leaned in closer, trying to see if he could maybe pick up any snippets of conversation.

It took three minutes before he saw Dean’s face go bright red and another minute before he saw his dad actually reply, deciding to turn away from the scene. He knew at least one of them was flirting and as much as he wanted his dad to make friends, Ben didn’t want to see anything that would scar him for life.

“You look like you’re gonna throw up.” Jack said, locking eyes with Ben.

“If my dad keeps flirting then I will. Old people flirting is gross, my dad flirting is even worse.”

Claire shrugged her shoulders, seemingly unbothered. She had eyes, she knew how flirting worked, but she didn’t blame Ben for being grossed out. Had Cas ever actually flirted, Claire was sure she’d be grossed out. But he didn’t and she wasn’t.

“At least your dad flirts. Mine’s too busy with his bees to even bother.” She said, pausing to snatch a cookie from Jack’s plate. Too busy spouting off a pun Jack didn’t even notice.

“I think you mean he’s too bee-sy.”

“Jack, I love you but if you ever make another dad joke I will hit you.”

Jack shrugged, used to Claire’s antics. With the jokes said and done, Ben got to work on convincing them to get out of the party and go cause chaos. The group snuck past the adults a few minutes later, Dean stuck in conversation with the redhead who’d approached him.

She was a spitfire, something he knew right from the first flirtation. He didn’t even have a name, just enough words to turn him three shades redder than he typically was. It was proving harder to keep his eyes away from the deep dip in her blouse and she picked up on it, chuckling.

“You are allowed to look, I didn’t wear it for nothing. But relax dear, you’re entirely too broad for my liking.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, still unsure. “Why flirt if I’m too broad for your liking? Feels a little objectifying.”

“Entertainment, for one, and a personality test for another. They call me the cougar and between you and I, it’s an apt name and a reputation I strive for. I’m sure they’ll find a nickname for you eventually.”

“What is your name, I don’t think I got it earlier.” Dean said, leaning back against one of the tables. “Mine’s Dean, in case I didn’t give it.”

The woman paused, giving Dean yet another once over with her perceptive gaze. He had the distinct feeling he was being sized up as if he were a meal and while it wasn’t the first time that that had happened, this time felt more intimidating. Maybe it was the woman’s short stature or the accent he couldn’t quite place. She knew things though, Dean knew that much, and that meant he was going to be friendly. Getting on the bad side of the neighbourhood gossip would be a recipe for disaster.

“Call me Rowena, or bitch, or witch, or really any manner of name. I answer to pretty much anything, bonus points if it’s a new insult.”

“That many people hate you?”

“Perks of running an alternative shop catering to those with eclectic spiritual practices I suppose. Everyone in the neighbourhood’s great. People outside it though, not so great.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, questions immediately popping into his mind. He didn’t get the chance to ask them because Rowena was speaking again, her tone full of amusement.

“Yes, I am a practicing witch and no, I won’t curse you if you piss me off. I’m quite certain I can ruin lives without resorting to that particular tactic. Would be better if I could get some decent shelves and the furniture in the shop fixed but there’s not a decent contractor in town who’d understand what to do with the wood.”

“What kind of wood? If it’s exotic I doubt anyone would want to take on the project, that stuff’s hard to work with when you’re building. “

“Mopane mostly but I’ve got some Honduran mahogany and African olive wood too. It’s some shelves and a couple tables and nightstands. I had a deal with a local furniture maker but he upped and retired so I’ve got nobody to fix the pieces and help me sell them. I take it you know the wood types then?”

Dean grinned, sticking out his hand. “Dean Winchester, ticketed carpenter at your service. Don’t typically do furniture for work but it’s a side hobby of mine and I’ve been meaning on getting more into exotic woods. I can take a look at the furniture for you if you’d like.”

“You seem like the kind of man who’d be goof with his hands. Tomorrow’s Saturday so how does showing up around eleven or so sound?”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” Dean smiled. He thought about sticking around and chatting with Rowena more but his attention was quickly caught by another pair of neighbours and their interactions.

He could see the woman, a pretty in a homely way blonde in a flowery dress, reaching down to snap the stem of English lavender. She picked and rose to her full height before turning around, tucking it behind the ear of a man before leaning in for a kiss. The pair were married, obviously, and Dean felt himself smile.

It was a sweet innocent gesture, the kind that told Dean they were newly married and still in the honeymoon stage of their love. He remembered that stage well and his heart twanged as he thought about it. Honeymooning was good while it lasted. It had been good with Lisa until it hadn’t been. By then the couple had seen him and Dean pushed himself off of the table, making his way over to them. Better to be friendly now.

“I don’t think I’ve had the chance to introduce myself yet.” He said as he stopped in front of them, extending his hand. “My name’s Dean, just moved in down the street.”

The woman shook his hand first, followed by her husband. “I’m Bess and this is Garth. Welcome to the neighbourhood, we’re glad to have you.”

Dean smiled, immediately at ease around the couple. Bess seemed kind, a gentle no nonsense tone that immediately told Dean she was a teacher. Garth, on the other hand, Dean couldn’t seem to figure out. The man had barely spoken a word and his demeanour was quiet, the kind that bordered more on pensive than creepy and unsettling.

“Got any insights on how to make it here without pissing anyone off? Between me and my kid, our last neighbour was less than friendly by the time we packed up and left to come here.”

“Don’t be a horrible human being and you’re pretty much set.” Garth replied. “Benny and Lee seem to like you, Rowena didn’t storm off, and I’ve heard you’ve already met Cas so you’ve basically met everyone who’s anyone in the neighbourhood.”

The advice was sage enough, really common sense more than anything. Dean didn’t plan on making enemies, it was entirely too much work. Besides, enemies meant an enemies to lovers arc like the box of bodice ripper novels stored under his bed where they’d never see the light of day unless he was alone. He didn’t need Ben razzing him.

“So Dean, what do you think of Cas?”

Dean shrugged his shoulders, slightly wary of the curious tone in Bess’ voice. Last time he’d heard a tone like that it was Rowena hitting on him and the time before that was the last time he’d seen his best friend, almost 10 years ago.

“He’s a bit odd but seems like a decent guy. Brought us a pie so I’m not about to shit talk the man.”

“He’ll keep feeding you if you let him, that I can promise. He had a surge crop a couple summers ago and brought us entirely too many melons. Of course we weren’t about to say no, not with the grocery prices being the way they are. That and Bess just loves watermelon.”

“I do, it’s true.”

“I’m more of a cantaloupe guy myself.” Dean said, settling back down. This was a nice normal neighbourly conversation and it felt good to talk to people who didn’t work in a shop and speak like they were thirteen and edgelords. “Anyways, what do you two do for work? I’ve sort of learned everyone’s jobs at this point.”

“I teach English at one of the high schools and Garth’s a dentist so I teach the kids and he traumatizes them.”

“A necessary evil, nothing wrong with that. Beats your teeth rotting out of your skull anyhow.”

Garth grinned, a triumphant grin at the recognition of his career choice and its necessity. The pair stuck round to chat for a few more minutes before they left and started their rounds with the other people in the neighbourhood. Dean was alone just long enough to catch his breath before he saw a familiar figure slide next to him.

“Can’t seem to stay away can you.” Dean chuckled, not minding the company.

“Gee, it’s almost as if we’re next door neighbours who share the complex bond of raising teenagers by ourselves.”

“Okay fair enough.”

“What do you think of the rest of the neighbourhood? I thought about saving you from Rowena but it’s a rite of passage for all the newbies.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, stuck on a single word. “All?”

“If you’re pretty enough she’s down. Had a girlfriend a few years ago but it didn’t pan out and neither did the boyfriend after that or the one after that and well, doesn’t take a genius to see that she’s not here with anyone.”

“Well I mean everyone in the neighbourhood is basically single save Garth and Bess.”

Cas forced himself to keep his expression neutral as a wave of absolute befuddlement overtook him. Dean had talked to Lee and Benny at length, so surely he’d seen it. If their closeness and banter weren’t enough, Cas was sure they’d probably used the term partner and any person with a brain would’ve put the clues together. But clearly Dean hadn’t.

Was he just clueless then, or did it run deeper? Cas didn’t think Dean was the kind of man to be intentionally ignorant but he didn’t know him very well so it was entirely possible. He decided to let it slide, figuring Dean would find out sooner or later. If it bothered him, that was his problem.

“We tend to discourage intra-neighbourhood relationships, kind of sours the mood when you break up and still have to live together.” Cas chuckled. “Doesn’t really stop them from happening, just makes them less frequent.”

“Yeah, well I’m too busy to date most of the time so highly doubt that’ll be a problem. Besides, Ben might take issue with it.”

“He’s a teenage boy, they take issue with everything. Well Jack doesn’t, but I’ve heard that all the others do.”

There was a curiosity in Dean’s voice, the kind that said he wanted to ask a few questions but wasn’t sure that he and Cas were friendly enough yet. He decided to ask anyway.

“What is the deal with Jack? Not that I know him well, we haven’t talked personally, but I’ve never met someone quite so… well the way he is.”

“I let Jack do their thing, express themselves however they want to. It’s pretty much as simple as that,” Cas shrugged.

Dean’s curiosity spiked again, confusion entering the mix. Had he heard Cas right, had the man used they instead of he? Of course Dean knew there were people who used those pronouns in real life, lord knew there were enough stories about them in the news, but he’d never actually met one of them before. He’d never met one so young either and he’d definitely never met the father of one.

“So if,” Dean paused to make sure he was being as correct as he could, “they want to paint their nails canary yellow or dye their hair neon pink because that’s how they feel then you’re totally cool with that?”

“Absolutely.”

Dean didn’t know what to do with the information he’d just been given so he decided to file it away into the part of his brain for things that would probably be useful at a later date. He’d gotten the vibe that Cas was a little grounded and pretty earthy already but this just cemented that he was accepting too. It already felt like the man could do no wrong and it made Dean’s insides churn with jealousy.

“Well uh thanks for letting me know about Jack. I’ll do my best but I can’t make any promises about not slipping up. This stuff’s a little new to me, we didn’t have much of it back in Lawrence.”

“Hey we all have to start somewhere, no shame in it being new or starting late.”

Dean nodded, relaxing slightly. It still bothered him that Cas was so chill and accepting but it also helped. He knew, deep down, that Cas wouldn’t have a problem if he had something going on and he appreciated that. The man would make a good friend and Dean needed more of those.

“My best friend’s a lesbian so it’s not really new but I haven’t talked to her in a while anyway. Haven’t seen her face to face in a decade. She’d probably be laughing at me right now.”

Cas’ nerves eased slightly when he heard that Dean knew more than one gay person and seemed alright with it. He still couldn’t peg the man down but for now he was fine. It felt a bit like a litmus test and so far Dean was passing it with slightly muted colours.

“Decade seems like an awful long time not to see each other. You two have a falling out or something?”

Dean shook his head. “Nothing like that. She got offered a big time contract to do some kind of computer related thing down here and took it. I wasn’t about to move an almost six year old that far away.”

“Well you’re here now, could always drop by and rekindle things. I’m sure she’d enjoy that.”

“It’s on the list of a million things I have to do but for sure I’ll be doing that. Putting it right up there with telling my mother I’ve moved down here, trying to parent my kid who’s probably going to just get angstier, and figure out the ins and outs of the new job that I’m definitely not ready for.”

“If it makes you feel any better, Claire’s got a whole angsty thing going on too. I suspect it’s got something to do with a crush but she’s a teenager so she isn’t exactly down to talk to her dad about whatever it is.”

“Well I’m sure we’ll both figure it out eventually.”

By then the three kids had gathered on the porch of Dean and Ben’s house and Ben was staring at the crowd, eyes flitting between his dad and Cas and then Benny and Lee. He knew there was something going on between the two neighbours he hadn’t met yet and he was curious about it. They were standing close but it didn’t look like the kind of close only friends would stand.

“Yeah Benny and Lee are a couple if that’s what you’re trying to figure out.” Claire said, stifling a laugh. “Doesn’t take a genius to see that.”

“Well duh, obviously they’re together. I just- my dad was talking to them earlier and I feel like he didn’t pick up on it and now I want to know.”

“How could he not pick up on it? I’m pretty sure someone with no eyes could pick up on that. My dad clocked them the second they moved into the neighbourhood.”

“Dad’s single-minded and I think that mind is pretty much focused on work right now.” Ben shrugged. “He’ll notice eventually, even if it takes him a minute. Pretty sure he doesn’t notice that he’s really bad at hiding things too. Like notoriously bad at hiding things.”

“I thought parents were supposed to be good at hiding things.” Jack said, finally contributing to the conversation.

“Our dad is but obviously Ben’s isn’t, duh. Moving on, what do you think he’s hiding?”

“Something about my mom but I don’t know anything else. He doesn’t talk about her, there aren’t pictures, there’s just nothing. Like I don’t even know her name.”

“Looks like we’re in the same boat then. Ours doesn’t talk about her either.”

“That’s not entirely true though. Dad told me her name was Amelia.” Jack said. “He said she was cool, also said that she liked tea.”

“And you didn’t tell me this until now. Not cool Jack, not cool.”

Jack held up their hands defensively, laughing when Claire began to playfully punch their arm. It was a frequent occurrence between them but neither seemed to mind it. There was a twinge in Ben’s stomach as he watched them, a gross roiling feeling he could only assume was jealousy. He’d never really thought much about being an only child but he’d seen enough siblings and their moments to know that he was missing out on something. It was Dean’s fault, he decided, and the fault of whatever woman was his mother.

The party lasted another hour or so before it wrapped up and everyone went their separate ways. Ben decided to forego chatting with Dean for the rest of the night and just went to bed, mind racing with thoughts of the neighbours and secrets until he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Dean had heard from the few friends of his that were ex-catholic that they felt like they were going to be struck down by God if they ever dared to set foot in a church again once they’d distanced themselves from the religion. He’d thought they were foolish, no way would God strike someone down if they wanted to maybe step inside and begin their relationship with him again.

But he understood the feeling now.

Something Wicca This Way Comes was a shop unlike anything Dean had ever seen before. There were bookshelves piled high with texts about all manner of things he didn’t even want to consider (tasseography, seriously what was that) and everything else that wasn’t a bookshelf was piled with even more things. There was an entire section for natural products, balms and salves and lotions with catchy names and pronounceable ingredient lists that Dean thought were mildly interesting.

It was the tubs loaded with various crystals and the informational placards next to them that caught his eye though. He leaned down to look at a stack of what he discovered was rose quartz, running his fingers over the rough cut mineral. Dean’s fingers slid over to the next tub, eyes scanning past the citrine and the red jasper.

“You have the look of a small child seeing a Goth person for the first time.” Rowena chuckled as she appeared from behind the counter, fuchsia dress trailing along the hardwood floor.

Dean raised his head. “And that look would be what exactly?”

“Mild horror and a healthy dose of curiosity.”

“Just never been in a shop like this before, wasn’t sure what to expect. It’s all a bit overwhelming.” He admitted, pulling himself away from the crystals and over to the front counter. Embarrassment coloured his cheeks knowing that Rowena had seen him both curious and uncomfortable already. They’d only met the day before after all.

“That’s the usual reaction so you’re not alone, dear. Granted the reactions are usually mothers horrified their teenagers find this place and want to spend their money here.”

Dean nodded, leaning against the counter. He didn’t think he’d be horrified if Ben wanted to spend his money here but then again he wasn’t religious and he knew Ben would never actually spend his money here. The issue was entirely implausible.

“So, show me to the furniture so I can get a good look at what has to be done?”

Rowena led Dean to the sizeable room at the back of the shop where four pieces of furniture sat out in the open. The first was an end table, a rounded one with curved legs and some kind of curled foot that looked like it had been turned. It was mopane, no doubt about it. The two coffee tables looked like they were mahogany but whoever had attempted to stain the wood had done a horrifically awful job. Piece number four was a bookshelf and Dean knew it had to be olive wood, the grain and colour characteristic enough to tell him that. The piece looked great save for the clumsy carving that had been done on the top and bottoms of the shelf to give it some detail. It would have to be sanded and redone if it was to look anything remotely close to professional.

“I know there probably isn’t a lot of work but I know there’s some. Just not too sure what it is.”

“You’ll want to get the stain stripped from the coffee tables, they didn’t do a good job with it at all.  I’ll also have to sand down and then probably re-carve the bookshelf if that’s what you or your client is hoping for. The end table looks relatively fine, there’s just some weird edges that’ll probably have to be fixed. Could always paint it or stain it depending on client preferences.”

Rowena nodded, pausing to pull out a small book from the large pocket of her dress. She scanned the pages quickly, chewing on her lip as she did so. “The client for the coffee tables does want a proper darker stain, none of that bleached rustic mahogany that’s apparently popular right now. Bookshelf client was hoping to stain the wood slightly greener and do some kind of plant-like carving or motif. As for the end table, you’ve got permission to do whatever you want to do to it. It doesn’t have a buyer yet.”

Dean stood from his crouched position, stretching an arm over his head until he felt his shoulder pop and settle back in its place. His mind was running rampant with possibilities, the constraints he’d been given barely constraints in the grand scheme of things. “I start work on Monday so my time’s going to be a bit limited from here on out but I could probably have these done in a week if I work on them in my off hours. Is that okay?”

“More than alright. I appreciate you taking a look and taking it on. I’ll repay you for it when the work’s done.”

Dean waved a hand as if to tell Rowena not to worry about repaying him and she raised an eyebrow slightly. She’d gotten a feeling about Dean when she’d met him yesterday, the kind of gut instinct that told her he was someone she wouldn’t mind being around. It also told her that he was going to be stubborn and the urge to test that theory was growing.

“I won’t argue at the moment but you will be getting something in return, it’s simply the law of equivalent exchange.’

“Looking forward to whatever it is then,” Dean replied. “I’ll be back tomorrow to pick them up if that’s alright with you, say 9 am?”

“See you tomorrow morning then.”

Dean offered Rowena one final smile before he headed out and back home. It was 11 by the time he wandered back inside and Ben was in the kitchen with a slice of toast and what Dean assumed was the leftover coffee. He glanced up from his phone when he heard footsteps. “Where were you?”

“Pretty sure that’s what I’m s’posed to be asking you when you get back from a mysterious location at like midnight on a school night. But I was at one of the neighbour’s shops, she had something she was hoping to get taken care of.”

“What, like hanging her curtains?”

Dean knew what Ben was getting at, his face flushing red. It had become an increasingly more noticeable sentiment the older Ben was getting and Dean didn’t like it. The last thing he wanted to do was have the ‘talk’ with his kid, especially when he’d been irresponsible at that age.

“No, not like hanging her curtains. Not interested in that.”

“Not interested in that with her or not interested in that at all?”

“Well firstly, don’t think we really need to be talking about this at all because you’re still a kid and I am an entire grown man with his own life. But not with her, if you really need to know.”

“Is there somebody you do like?” Ben asked, prodding gently. He was thinking back to his conversation with the Novaks the previous night and wanted answers.

Dean was suspicious immediately and pulled up a chair, parking himself across the table from Ben. Ben, thankfully, had never asked him questions like this before and as much as Dean wanted to assume it was for the right reasons, he wasn’t sure. He’d never been honest with his questions and intentions when he was Ben’s age so why would Ben be any different.

“What’s with all the dating questions all of a sudden?”

“Just curious I guess.” He shrugged. “Came up talking with Claire and Jack last night.”

“Fair enough I guess. The answer is no, just so you’re aware. Been too busy with the move and we also don’t know anyone. Hard to find someone attractive if you’re too busy to look.”

“Well just so you know, I’m cool if you want to start dating again. I’ve been cool with you dating for a while. So go for it if you want to.”

“This is the second time since we’ve moved you’ve talked about this so either you’ve got a crush and you’re projecting or you really want me out of the house more.”

Ben’s heart jumped into his throat when Dean casually mentioned the crush. He was pretty sure he had a crush on Claire, it was just a bit too early to tell, but there was no way Dean could’ve picked up on that already. Even if Dean had picked up on it, it would be a matter of not speaking about it at all until it inevitably came up in an awkward way that resulted in a talk neither of them wanted to have.

“I think you just need friends.”

Dean gave Ben a look as if to tell him that he also needed to find friends before he moved on. “I was planning on visiting your grandmother if you want to come along. Been a while since she’s seen you in person, think she’d be happy to see you.”

“Please tell me she’s not going to pinch my cheeks.”

“She’s never done that to you so I doubt she’ll start now. Do me a favour and get dressed, don’t need her to ream me out for letting you show up in pajamas.”

Ben left his empty mug on the table and disappeared to go get dressed, seemingly excited to see his grandmother. He hadn’t seen Mary in person in the last three years, not since the great Christmas Ham disaster, so he was absolutely thrilled. Everyone he knew hated their grandparents, claimed they were boring and smelled weird and didn’t know how to deal with the youth, but Mary wasn’t like that. Mary was a cool grandma, the kind that could kick ass and knew it.

Once Dean managed to get both of them in the car and off towards Mary’s place, he seemed slightly more on edge. He loved his mother, she had always been there for him when he needed it, but that didn’t mean that they didn’t have their spats. It had been particularly bad the last time they had been face to face, the result of a ham gone bad and fragile emotions finally breaking.

Dean reminisced as he drove, another memory seeming to take over.

“What do you mean you’re moving?”

The tension in the kitchen was palpable, Dean’s hands clasped in his lap so Mary wouldn’t see how tightly they were clenched. He could barely hear over the ringing in his ears and the roar of his racing heart in his chest. She’d blindsided him, completely thrown him to the wolves without as much as a second thought.

Mary sighed, hands wrapped around her mug of tea. “It’s exactly what it sounds like, sweetheart. I’ve found a better place, one that’ll get me out of your hair. Ben’s getting bigger too and he needs his own room.”

“Well how far are you moving? And you really don’t have to move, it’s totally fine. I could add on to the house.”

“You’re not adding on to the house and we both know it.”

“I don’t want you to move and he’s not going to want you to move either. Mom, I can’t- I need you. I can’t do this without you.”

There was another pause as Mary set her mug down, reaching out to wrap her warm hands over Dean’s. A faint glimmer hung in her eyes, the kind that said she knew exactly what Dean was talking about. It also told him exactly why she knew she had to leave.

“You’ve got a decent job now, Dean, and Ben’s already in school during the day. You really don’t need me and besides, we all have to grow up and leave the nest at some point.”

“Children leave the nest, mom. They don’t usually have their parent abandon them.”

“I’m not abandoning you, Dean. Don’t be childish.”

Dean snatched his hands away from Mary as if he’d been burned, racing heart suddenly down in his stomach. He knew his mother was fickle, she always had been, but this was unexpected. It wasn’t an outburst but it was close enough.

“You’re doing exactly what Sam did six years ago and I don’t know about you, but I’d call that abandoning. He hasn’t spoken to me since then, what’s to guarantee you won’t do the same.”

Mary pinched the bridge of her nose, frustrated. “I’m not your brother, I’ve been around for the last six years in case you haven’t noticed. I know this is surprising news and I get that you’re surprised but there’s no need to lash out. Go take a walk, we can finish this conversation when you’ve calmed down.”

Dean had never seen Mary’s home in person so he wasn’t sure what to expect. He knew the inside was simple and rustic so he was only marginally surprised when he pulled into the long laneway and saw something that reminded him entirely too much of his neighbour’s backyard. It wasn’t the garden that caught him by surprise but it was the chickens. They swarmed him as soon as he exited and he tripped over his own feet.

“Fucking chickens.” He swore under his breath, quickly righting himself.

Ben grinned, laughing at Dean as they strode down the laneway. “Grandma’s trained them to attack you. They’re not anywhere near me.”

“I don’t think she reasonably expected us to move down here and visit so no, definitely not trained. Probably just get the vibes I don’t like birds.”

“Since when do you not like birds?”

“Since you were chased by a Canada goose 8 years ago. Those birds are full of nothing but venom, I swear.”

“I don’t remember that happening.”

“Yeah cuz I picked you up and you thought you were just getting a ride on dad’s shoulders. You had fun and I got scarred. They’ve got teeth like things and they hurt when they catch bare skin.”

“You can use that trauma to get a girlfriend. Tell her that story and she’ll pity laugh enough for you to get a way in.”

Dean stopped in his tracks just before they reached the porch, eyebrow so far up his forehead it looked like it was going to fly off. “This is the third or fourth time you’ve mentioned me dating in the last week and it’s great that you’re so chill with it but what gives. Why now?”

“Cuz all you do when you’re not working is stay at home and it’s kind of sad, not gonna lie. I’ve heard stories about how you used to be, do not yell at grandma for telling me by the way, and I want that for you. Also maybe I just want you out of the house so I can have my own privacy.”

“If I agree to go on a date, will you leave me alone?”

“Will you let me help you make a dating profile?”

With all of the gusto of a middle aged man too uncomfortable to put up a fight, Dean nodded his head.

By then the pair had reached the porch and Dean was the first to press the doorbell, leaning back on the balls of his feet. He was nervous about seeing Mary again, though he wasn’t quite sure why. They’d fixed their relationship to the point where they talked but something about dropping by unannounced was enough to terrify him.

A man opened the door and Dean was even more confused.

“Can I help you?” He asked, his voice gruffer than the scruffy beard on his face and the grubby hat on his head.

“Maybe. We’re looking for Mary Winchester. Pretty sure this is the right address.”

The man paused again, taking a moment to take Dean and Ben in. It took a moment before he stepped aside, gesturing for them to come in. “I take it you’re Dean and Ben then.”

“We are. Not too sure who you are you though.”

“Name’s Bobby, I’m your mom’s neighbour. You just caught us during our weekly lunch meeting.”

Dean nodded, sucking his teeth to avoid saying something without thinking. He’d assumed almost immediately that Mary had gotten back out there but he wasn’t so sure now. The man. Bobby, didn’t seem like her type. Then again she’d never really dated and didn’t take about his father so maybe they were and she was just being secretive. Either way it was strange.

Mary’s kitchen was enough to make Dean jealous the second he stepped inside. Butcher block counters greeted him, a sage green backsplash tucked behind a large sink and a gas stove in front of his eyes. The chairs and table too, solid sturdy oak, he recognized as his on handiwork. They’d been a mother’s day present the year before she had told him she was moving away and their relationship had taken a hit.

Mary was sitting at the table, a late lunch spread out across it. There were sandwiches, a salad, and some kind of fruit and cream. His stomach practically growled at the sight of it. Mary looked up when Bobby entered the room, her expression morphing into one of shock.

“Hey mom,” Dean smiled, “Long time no see.”

Mary blinked again, practically frozen in her seat. It was only when she noticed Ben that she snapped out of it, rising from her chair. “I didn’t know you were coming down this summer.”

“More than coming down, we moved down.”

“What do you mean you moved down?”

“Dad got a really good job offer and we moved for it.” Ben explained, shuffling forward to give Mary a hug. “Think he kind of wanted to be closer to you too.”

Mary hugged back, squeezing Ben for nearly a minute until he managed to extricate himself from her arms. She did the same thing to Dean but he didn’t pull away, instead letting her break it off. The pair sat at the table when Mary gestured for them to, Bobby politely excusing himself from the home on the premise that he had work to do. When he was gone, Dean turned and grinned at his mother.

“Got a new beau I see.”

Mary shook her head but the soft smile on her face betrayed her.

“He’s just a good friend, Dean, nothing more than that.”

“Whatever you say.”

The group day in silence for a while as they ate, Dean reminiscing on the meals he had growing up. He hadn’t eaten with Mary in three years and in three years she’d become a much better cook. This was no Winchester surprise (the surprise of which was how awful it tasted). What it was, was delicious and refreshing.

“So, you’ve got a new job then. How is it so far?”

Dean shrugged. “Start on Monday so I couldn’t tell you. Should be fine though, the firm seems alright and they’re paying really well.”

“Good, that’s great. Whereabouts are you two living now? There’s some not so great areas and I’d really like to see you not in them.”

“We’re in a suburb, mom, we’ll be fine. It’s Paradise Hills if you really need to know that badly.”

Mary was silent for a moment but she was smiling which Dean took as a good sign. He’d done his research, he knew the areas that seemed nice to live, and that was one of the top. It was still hard to understand how he’d managed to score one of the homes but he wasn’t prone to looking a gift horse in the mouth either.

“Good people in that neighbourhood. Get any housewarming gifts yet?”

“We got a pie from one of the neighbours. They’re pretty cool, Claire really likes art. Also probably arson but I don’t think we’ve hit that level of friendship yet.” Ben said, speaking unprompted.

Mary’s eyebrow raised again and she glanced over at Dean as if to ask him what made this girl so special. Dean shrugged in response, unsure of it himself.

“Well I’m glad that you’re out there making friends already, peanut. I think your dad could learn a lesson from you about that.”

“And I think everyone needs to stop ragging on the man who’s just doing his best and, if you want to get technical, is now kind of friendly with like six neighbours.”

“Six is good, enough for you to have a dinner party. Sounds like Ben is making friends too. I’m expecting that you two’ll come frequently now that I know you’re in town.”

Ben nodded his head in agreement. It was exciting they lived so close again, the kind of exciting that he figured was kind of lame but lame in a way that didn’t make him seem lame. He could see Mary and Dean wanted to talk so he got up from the table and mumbled something about going to explore the property before he ran off.

“I can’t believe how big he’s gotten since I saw him last. He’s almost as tall as you are now.”

“He’s a handful, that’s what he is.”

Mary chuckled, the knowing chuckle of someone who’d been in exactly the same position. “if he’s anything like you, I can imagine. How is he taking the move?”

“Didn’t take it great at first but I think he’s fine now, it’s not like he’s really all that chatty about his emotions. Got lucky the neighbour has kids his age. They’re getting along.”

“He talked about the girl unprompted. I’m fairly certain you know what that means.”

Dean knew what it meant and he knew Mary knew what it meant. It was trouble.

“Yeah, I know. Can’t see it going well but not my place to tell him what to do. I’ll be there along the way and I’ll bring the ice cream if it blows up in his face.”

“Hopefully he’d take it better than you took Lisa.”

Dean winced at the name before he glanced around, nervously checking to see if ben was near. His action betrayed him and Mary sighed, scrubbing a hand over her face. “You still haven’t told him.”

“It hasn’t come up organically.”

“Something like that won’t ever come up organically and you know that.” Mary wasn’t surprised Dean was tight lipped about the situation with Ben’s mother. It had been devastating then and judging by Dean’s reaction, it still stung almost 16 years later. “He’s going to find out one way or another so it’s better it comes directly from you and not someone else.”

“I was planning on telling him around his birthday, it’ll be easier then. He’s already used to the moodiness around then.”

“Unnecessary moodiness in my opinion. It’s been 16 years so you need to let it go and put yourself back out there.”

“Apparently everyone and their mother wants me to date now.”

Mary pursed her lips, waiting for Dean to elaborate.

“I had a neighbour come onto me, you’re telling me to start dating again, and I may have agreed to let Ben make me a dating profile just before we got here. It’s not that I don’t want to date, I just- I don’t have a lot of free time and there’s a lot on my plate right now with the new job and the  move and then Ben’s school paperwork which I still don’t fully understand how to fill out.”

“No adult ever has the time to date, we just make it. Give it a try and see what happens, that’s what I say. You’d be surprised by the eligible singles in town.”

“And you’d know about the eligible singles how?”

“I’m old, not dead. Besides, I’d really like another daughter-in-law.”

Dean sat in stunned silence as Mary’s words sunk in. He hadn’t thought of Sam in years, not a deep pensive thought anyway, so he hadn’t considered the possibility Sam might be married.

“He got married after law school, his college girlfriend. It was quite a sweet ceremony and Jess is lovely. I did find it odd you didn’t show up though.”

“Can’t show up if you don’t even know it’s happening.” Dean said bluntly. “Good for him though, glad he’s thriving. Anyways, think it’s about time to get going. Got a lot of shit to do before tomorrow morning.”

Mary frowned, a slight guilt settling on her shoulders, but she didn’t stop Dean from leaving. She did get up and pull Dean in for a hug, hand resting on his shoulder when they parted. “Don’t be a stranger, Dean. I’m here if you need anything.”

“I know, thanks. See you around mom.”

Ben was sitting on the porch when Dean stepped outside, a black and white chicken sitting in his lap. The chicken seemed content as it sat there and Ben seemed pleased as he glanced up at Dean.

“All I did was sit and then it decided it wanted to sit too. Guess I’m the chicken whisperer.”

“You’re certainly something. Now come one, let’s get going. I don’t need your grandmother making me feel inferior about my love life again.”

Ben gingerly removed the chicken from his lap and stood up, brushing the dirt off of his jeans. “So her and that guy are a thing then.”

“News was about my brother, not her. So no, I don’t think so.”

“Is this the uncle that I’ve never met and you pretend doesn’t exist? Cuz if so, I wanna know why you don’t talk and why I haven’t met him. Like I haven’t even seen a picture.”

Dean sighed, waiting until they were in the car before he spoke again. Ben was going to get part of the story because the whole story was too complicated and emotionally taxing. Something was better than nothing after all.

“Yeah, it is that uncle. We had a huge fight as teenagers, he moved to California for college, and has been there ever since. Never bothered to make up so we don’t talk and you’ve never met. Apparently he’s got a wife, married his college sweetheart or something. Your grandmother hinted that she’d really love another daughter-in-law.”

“What’d you fight about?’

“That’s a really long story that I’ll tell you another day.”

Ben rolled his eyes, irritated that Dean was hiding yet another crucial piece of dad lore from him. It was part of their dance, had been for years; Dean would allude to some far-off piece of teasing backstory and Ben would fish but ultimately come up empty handed. It frustrated Ben to no end but an idea was blooming in his head, the kind of idea that would involve a newly made friend who clearly had a penchant for causing chaos when she felt like it.

“Okay fine, some other time. Can I have your phone when we get home so I can make your profile?”

“You’re really not going to let that go, are you?”

Ben shook his head.

“Then sure, you can have my phone. All you’re doing on it is making the profile, no other funny business. Got it?”

Ben saluted Dean to confirm but the gleam in his eyes told Dean there would be just enough funny business to cause future problems. But those future problems were problems for a future Dean who’d probably be just as ill-equipped to handle them as he was now. He handed Ben his phone they got home, just as promised, before vanishing into the house to continue the unpacking process he’d barely made a dent in.

Ben sat himself on the steps leading up to the front door, all of his attention focused on the phone. The first thing Ben did wasn’t download a dating app but rather going to Dean’s gallery app to snoop through all of the photos on it. There were entirely too many photos of Ben at his various events, something he’d expected, but the further back in the gallery he went the more surprised he was.

The first new photo was several years old, a decade or so if Ben had to guess. Dean looked like he was in his early twenties and he had an earring in his left ear, something he definitely didn’t have now. It was a party of some kind judging by the red cup in Dean’s hand and the closer Ben looked, the more he realized how much it looked like Dean was having fun. He was out, had friends, and looked like he was chatting with someone just out of shot. Had it been a recent photo, it would’ve been great for the profile.

The second photo gave Ben a bit of insight into Dean’s best friend, Charlie. He’d heard stories and had stalked her social media but this felt different somehow. She was leaning against Dean, face flushed nearly as red as her hair, and had her shirt pulled up to show the fresh tattoo on her rib. It was nearly identical to the one Dean was showing off on his rib as well. When he looked closer, Ben realized that Charlie’s character was Leia which made entirely too much sense based off of what he’d heard about her.

Ben nearly scrolled past the final picture but stopped when he saw a colour that seemed different than all the other photos. It was nestled in between a photo of a finished cabinet and Dean’s car, both dark while the middle was brighter. Dean was in it, looking younger than Ben had ever seen him but it was the girl he was with that made Ben pause. He couldn’t see the entirety of her face, half of it was covered by her hand and what was visible was obscured by Dean kissing her cheek but he knew who it was.

“What are you looking at?”

Ben jumped, startled by the voice. The phone slipped from his hands, clattering onto the driveway with a thud. Claire was standing over him, leaning in with a grin that Ben was beginning to assume was permanently stuck on her face. She had a different outfit on today and he squinted, trying to read the faint lettering spread across the shirt.

“Old photos on my dad’s phone.”

Claire seemed intrigued and sat down beside Ben, grabbing the phone. Her eyes settled on the photo before she handed the phone back to him. “Girl he’s kissing is cute, at least from what I can see. Old flame of your dad’s?”

“I think it’s my mom.”

Claire’s eyes widened. “Oh shit dude, like your ‘dead mom’ mom?”

“I don’t actually know if she’s dead, he literally hasn’t told me anything about her. I don’t even know if I know her name.”

“Okay, so this is maybe a photo of your possibly dead mom. That’s kind of cool I guess. Any way to find out if she’s still alive?”

Ben shook his head. “He won’t talk about her and technically I’m not supposed to be snooping through his gallery, I’m supposed to just be making a dating profile. This was kind of just an accident and I don’t know if it’s her and I don’t want to ask and like rat myself out.”

“Have you checked the meta data?”

Ben’s confused expression told Claire everything she needed to know and she took the phone back from him, tapping and navigating through several tabs and apps as if she was a pro and this was just another Saturday afternoon for her.

“Meta data tells you stuff like the time and date and location when the photo was taken, like a footprint I guess. They use this shit in court all the time to get evidence admitted and before you ask, no, I haven’t been in front of a court. I just get bored and like it on in the background while I do homework.”

“I think I may be a little terrified of you.”

Claire turned at that, offering Ben a genuine smile that had his stomach subtly flipping, before she was staring back at the phone. “So it’s definitely an old photo, like 17 years or something if I’m reading it right. Really wish I had a name, maybe I’d be able to get something from it cuz now you’ve roped me into this mom mystery and I wanna know the answer.”

“If you wanna march in there and ask him then go for it but I have to live with the man and I really don’t want to piss him off right now.”

“I will if you want me to. I literally don’t give a single fuck if he doesn’t like me after that.”

Ben shook his head quickly. “No, we really shouldn’t do that. I’ll figure it out eventually but not right now. Kinda gotta make the profile so he doesn’t get suspicious.”

While disappointed there wouldn’t be immediate snooping into her new neighbours and Ben’s mother, she was intrigued by the profile creation. She was convinced that Cas would outright refuse to let her meddle in his dating life so she hadn't ever tried to con him into making a profile. The man didn't exactly scream 'let's get hot and heavy after a mediocre coffee date' to her.

“So what’s he into?” Claire asked as she stared over Ben’s shoulder as he tried to figure out a bio. “Like looks wise I mean.”

“He’s been on a singular date since I gained consciousness so not really a clue. Dark hair I guess and I think my mom maybe had like brown eyes or something? I know he doesn’t like redheads, says they remind him too much of their best friend.”

“Alright, that’s definitely something to work with. I know we’re talking women, are we talking men too?”

“No, God no. At least I don’t think so and I kind of don’t want to think about that either.”

Claire shrugged, pressing closer to Ben to stare at the screen as he chose photos. His back was warm and his shoulder firm as she put her hand on his other shoulder. Her curiosity got the better of her the longer she stared.

“What are you into?”

Ben turned slightly, eyebrow raised in suspicion. “Why do you want to know?”

“Everyone needs a wingman and since my sibling and dad don’t want to date, I kind of need someone to meddle with. Kind of hard to meddle with my best friend too, she’s got some kind of unrequited love thing going on but won’t tell me who it’s for.”

“Someone has to be calling you some kind of scooby doo related nickname behind your back with your meddling.”

Claire shrugged, pulling away from Ben and returning to her spot beside him. “They call me a lot of things but I don’t really care much. And just so you’re not getting something for nothing, I’ve got a thing for dark hair and athletic people.”

Ben felt his stomach flip again and swallowed thickly, staring at the phone as he put the finishing touches on Dean’s profile. He was never one to get crushes so quickly but he knew the feeling even if he didn’t want to admit it. The stomach flip when he’d seen Claire, the subtle heat in his face when she’d pressed in close to him, it was telling him exactly what he didn’t want to hear.

“I’m not sure what I’m into,” He said, lying, “but I know it’s not guys. I kind of had a sort of girlfriend before I moved but obviously it didn’t pan out.”

Claire stood up and stepped onto the driveway, pausing to stretch her arms. She seemed mildly amused as she smiled at Ben, a slightly crooked smile that he already found himself trying to memorize.

“Well we’ll find you a girlfriend eventually if that’s what you want. I gotta get going though, dad wants me and Jack to help with dinner. See you later.”

“Yeah, see you later!”

With that Claire was off and Ben was left alone on the step, phone in hand. He sat there in a daze, mind busy with his own thoughts as he mindlessly swiped on Dean’s profile. It seemed that everyone had dating on their minds.

Chapter Text

Sunday mornings were nothing special in the Novak household, just another routine in their stable life. Cas was up first every morning and made coffee and breakfast for himself and Jack. He never bothered with Claire, not because he didn’t want to but because she had a habit of sleeping in until mid-afternoon and going through the effort to see the food wasted was incredibly frustrating. It was like clockwork so it came as a bit of a surprise when Cas heard footsteps at 9 am.

He turned his head to glance at whichever child it was, surprised to find Claire in her pajamas and bedhead making a beeline for the fridge.

“I didn’t know you knew how to wake up before 2.” Cas teased, pausing to take a sip of his coffee.

“And I didn’t know that you like getting back home at 3 am.” She replied smugly, shutting the fridge when she found the apple she was searching for. “Guess we’re both learning new things about each other.”

Cas shrugged, still processing the fact Claire was awake and in the kitchen. He didn’t trust the way she looked at him, a mischief gleaming behind the sleep still crusted in the corner of her eyes. She only ever got that look when she was about to ruffle some feathers. Cas didn’t want his feathers ruffled.

“Soo, I was talking with Ben yesterday and some stuff came up and it got me thinking.”

Cas raised an eyebrow, intrigued. His kids had been spending every waking moment hanging out with Ben since he and Dean moved into town and while it wasn’t suspicious, Claire’s statement was.

“You’re talking about him unprompted, that’s new. Got something you want to tell me? Maybe about a little crush.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Absolutely not I don’t have a crush or absolutely not I don’t want to talk about this with you?”

“Absolutely not it’s 9 am.”

“Fair enough.” Cas said, gesturing to the empty chair in front of him. “Ask the question you’re dying to ask.”

“Why don’t you date?”

There was a moment of silence, Cas blinking slowly at his daughter. When he registered the question, he couldn’t help the little grin and shake of his head. “What prompted you to ask that?”

“Well Ben told me his dad let him make a dating profile yesterday and I gotta admit, it got me thinking. Did you know his dad used to have an earring?”

“Can’t say that I did.”

“Well he did. There’s also some sketchy woman stuff but that’s not the point here. My point is that if Ben’s dad is dating, maybe you should date too. Or at the very least get out of the house more than you do. Like not dating has got to suck.”

“I get out of the house all the time.”

Claire gave Cas a look, that tilted head exasperated face the Novaks were so famous. As far as she was concerned, Cas was only ever out of the house for work or errands and none of that was particularly conducive to dating and having a good time.

“Only for work and errands, not cuz you’re on the prowl for hot women.”

“Claire,” Cas said, unable to hide the amusement in his voice, “think about what you said earlier. You said you heard me come home at 3 am. Why do you think I’d be coming home so late? Because it’s certainly not for work or errands.”

The silence was loud enough to hear a pin drop. It was the perfect background for Cas’ growing amusement as his daughter’s face scrunched into an expression of realization and mild disgust. He’d imagined this conversation would pop up eventually but he hadn’t imagined it would be 9 am on a Sunday with Claire in her duck slippers.

“How long has this been going on for?”

“Four years give or take.”

“Is it like a dating thing or?”

“Or.”

Claire nodded her head, digesting the information. The wheels in her head were turning and the smoke practically pouring out of her ears as more questions revealed themselves. “Has it been the same woman every time?”

“Not the same person, no. Any other questions?”

“Why haven’t you brought them to the house? It is your house.”

“Didn’t want to complicate things and make it awkward for you and your sibling, that’s all. Less questions get asked if I go out.”

There was another pause, Claire getting up to toss out her apple core before she sat back down. She seemed less concerned than Cas had figured she’d be. It was strange.

“Can I make you a dating profile?”

Cas shook his head, eyes narrowing slightly as he read the disappointment on Claire’s face.

“Why do you want to meddle so much in my dating life? I mean I don’t mind being open about it if you’re curious but I’ve got a good handle on it. Do you need to talk about your dating life?”

Claire made a face, like she’d just eaten a lemon before shaking her head. The idea of dating, while not unappealing in the slightest, made her queasy. It felt like something she couldn’t quite reach and the insinuation that she was almost near it was uncomfortable. Of course it didn’t help that she was confused by the very person she was reaching for.

“No, let’s not talk about mine. Let’s just say that it’s fine if you bring people over, just give us a heads up.”

“Why are we getting a heads up?” Jack asked as they shuffled into the kitchen, hands shoved into their cactus pajama shorts.

“Cuz dad’s hooking up with randos and I told him he could have them over here.”

“I told him that months ago.”

Claire’s voice was full of mock betrayal. “You knew and you didn’t tell me?”

“Well dad’s the one sleeping around, not me.”

Cas pinched the bridge of his nose, more embarrassed than anything. “I wouldn’t call it sleeping around. That sounds crass.”

“True though.” Claire grinned. “Look, you do you and other people and Jack and I’ll just go with it. I’m gonna let you two chat, I’m hanging out with Kaia today so I’ve gotta get ready.”

With that Claire left the kitchen. Jack shrugged their shoulders as if to say they weren’t sure what was happening but that it was fine, offered an explanation that they were going to meet some friends at a bookstore in a couple hours, and then left Cas alone in the kitchen.

Still reeling from the awkward conversation where he’d told his kids that he was in fact not a lonely 36 year old with no prospects, Cas decided the garden was his best option.

~

Letting Ben make him a dating profile had been the worst decision Dean had made in the last 15 years. Ben’s excitement had been sweet and the profile itself didn’t look too bad, tasteful pictures and a bio that left him open to all sorts of experiences. It was the unfettered access Dean had given to Ben to swipe that was the issue. The matches and messages were pouring in and Dean’s phone just wasn’t stopping.

Muting his phone barely helped when his screen was still lighting up like a Christmas tree and turning off his phone was an impossibility when he had other business he needed the phone for. He thought about turning off notifications for the app but then he’d never check it and Dean wanted to give dating or hooking up or whatever it was a fair shot.

So here he was bright and early at 11 am on a Sunday with his phone on the grass and furniture laid out in front of him. He’d picked up the furniture from Rowena like he’d promised and now it was laid out, the stain from the coffee tables slowly being stripped and the table and bookshelf ready to be planed and sanded.

“Please be an easy plane, I really don’t want to fight with you today.” He mumbled to no one in particular, picking up the hand planer so he could get to work. Electric was easier, he knew that, but he liked the control the hand planer gave him.

It was fine for a couple minutes until he heard his phone go off, irritation resulting in a twitching eyelid. The thing was never going to stop and he was in too deep to stop now. It continued when he finished the bookshelf and continued into the planing of the table, each ting bringing Dean closer and closer to the edge of sanity. Dean became aware of someone watching him shortly into working on the table but didn’t turn around until he was finished.

“I’m going to start calling you peeping Tom if you keep this up.” He said, making eye contact with Cas.

Cas was leaning against the fence, arms folded over the top of it and chin resting there. There was an easygoing smile on his face that put Dean at ease almost immediately. The guy was odd but he was friendly and easy to get along with and Dean really needed more friends.

“Hard to harvest vegetables when all I hear next door is a phone going off nonstop.”

“Sorry, I know it’s probably annoying.” Dean said as he set the planer down, getting to his feet and brushing the stray grass off of his work pants.

“I have a teenage daughter, your phone’s fine.” Cas chuckled. “Just curious about why you’re so popular on a Sunday morning.”

“I gave in to my teenage son’s badgering.”

Cas leaned further over the fence. “Badgering about what?”

Dean knew he had two options in that moment: tell Cas or clam up and change the subject. He doubted the man would judge him, he didn’t seem like the type, but the hesitancy was still there. Was it really appropriate to tell the man you’ve known for a week that your teenage son wanted you to go on dates and get laid? Probably not. Then again clamming up wasn’t the most neighbourly thing to do either. Dean decided on a slightly bent version of the truth.

“Putting myself back out there.”

“So Claire wasn’t lying then.”

Dean’s eyebrow shot up so high it nearly shot off his forehead. He was about to ask Cas how the hell his daughter knew but it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. Ben had told her and she’d told Cas. The suburban grapevine was real it seemed.

“She asked me about dating this morning and let it slip that she’d seen Ben making you a profile.” Cas elaborated. “Then we had an incredibly awkward conversation about dating in general that I don’t think either of us want to repeat.”

“Are you? Dating I mean?  Obviously you don’t have to answer but we’ve kind of opened like Pandora’s 18+ box and maybe I’m a little bit curious since the whole fresh meat Rowena debacle.”

Cas shrugged his shoulders, pushing off the fence when he felt Dean lean against it. “I get around but I wouldn’t call it dating. Obviously you don’t date either.”

“Didn’t peg you as that kind of person.”

The statement didn’t sit well with Cas and he shifted on his feet, arms crossing over his chest defensively. There hadn’t been judgment in Dean’s tone but Cas didn’t know him enough to be comfortable yet. He took a long hard look at Dean and used the stare he’d had 16 years of 2 kids who got into trouble to thank for. It was the kind of stare that hardened his gaze, forcing his angular features into jagged points.

“What did you peg me as then?” Cas asked bluntly, hardened edge creeping into his tone. It was only half intentional so he only felt half bad when Dean looked momentarily panicked.

“I didn’t mean to piss you off, I’m sorry. I swear I’m cool with people doing what they want with their bodies and their time, I just- you don’t seem like the hookup type from what I know. Maybe it’s the bees and the gardening and the two kids, I dunno.”

“See, you seem like the type who would so I was surprised to hear that you don’t.” Cas admitted, expression softening once he knew there wasn’t judgment. “Your ex must’ve done a number on you.”

“She did, yeah. But that’s the past and it’s time to move on says everyone I’ve ever talked to apparently. I just wish moving on wasn’t so confusing. Like I don’t understand the app and I’m realizing how old that makes me sound.”

“You’re what, 30? That’s not old. Bring me your phone, I’ll show you how the app works. Chances are I’ve used it.”

Dean reached down for his phone and then handed it to Cas, slightly apprehensive. “Try 33 but thanks. You get around, what’s the single scene like here? It was bad back in Lawrence, it’s part of why I never really tried.”

“Depends on what you’re into but generally it’s fine. Bound to be a dud or two every so often.”

Truth be told, Cas was curious about what Dean was into. He’d be remiss if he acted like he wasn’t. Cas, despite all of the presumptions everyone had about him, watched people like a hawk. He had a determinative mind and a discerning eye for what he wanted and what he wanted usually had green eyes. It was the first thing he’d noticed about Dean when they started talking. Dean was handsome and mysterious and Cas wanted to know more.

“See my problem is my type is bad for me.” Dean admitted, watching Cas scroll through his profile. It felt like he was back in high school and being sized up by the teacher. Outside eyes prying on such an intimate part of his life was uncomfortable.

“Welcome to the club.”

Right off the hop, Cas noticed a couple things about Dean’s profile. It was made by a young person, that much was obvious from the wording of the bio, and the dad joke in it was just off colour enough to be charming. Of course there were the pictures, none really too special or too outlandish save for the last photo which Cas suspected was taken shortly after Dean had gotten off of work. The tight work pants and muscle tee left little to the imagination and Cas knew if he’d seen Dean’s profile, he’d certainly have swiped on it.

It took a good ten or fifteen minutes for Cas to explain everything to Dean, complete with awkward examples and swipes that made him feel a bit too much like a puppeteer. By the end of it, Dean seemed to understand what was going on but appeared more flustered than he had at the beginning.

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked Cas, rubbing the back of his neck as if he were embarrassed just thinking about the topic.

“Sure. At this point I’m an open book and it is only fair since my child did tell on you.”

“So um, obviously we’re around the same age and clearly have different feelings about all of this stuff. Do you not find it weird to be hooking up into your 30s and not just dating instead?”

“No, I don’t find it weird and frankly I don’t think anyone should.”

Dean didn’t say much in response, mulling over the answer. Cas was self-assured and incredibly confident which he respected but it terrified him in equal measure. The man wasn’t a dick, at least not yet, but his confidence was terrifying. It reminded him a bit of Charlie in that both of them were full of themselves in a way that wasn’t cocky so much as it was awe inspiring.

“I’m not saying everyone has to go out and just start hooking up with randos if they don’t feel comfortable or ready to because that’s just idiotic. What I am saying is to do what makes you feel good and what you’re comfortable with. For me it’s hookups, for you it’s who knows, and for Rowena it’s tormenting the new meat.”

“I still can’t believe she does that to everyone.” Dean chuckled, seeming to relax now that the air between them had seemingly cleared. “I really think she’d get along with my best friend. Think Rowena’d be down for a little matchmaking?”

“Not if she knows it’s on purpose. She’s one of those it needs to happen organically kind of people.”

“What if she thought it was organic but it was slightly engineered?”

“It’s your funeral but I promise I’ll speak kind words like 'I only knew him for a couple weeks but his ability to end his life early was only marvelled by his ability to plane bookshelves'.”

“I’ll build myself a beautiful casket so it’ll be worth it.” Dean grinned. “I’m thinking cherry with a nice stain and some gold plated carbon steel hardware. Says classy without being ridiculous.”

Cas shook his head, clearly amused. “If you do try to play matchmaker, loop me in on your plans cuz I want the free entertainment. But good luck with the dating, I’m sure you’ll do fine. And go with Lily, she seems the most well-adjusted.”

“Thanks for the advice. Guess I’ll give it a try and hope I don’t get flamed by my date or my kid. See you around, Cas.”

With the conversation over in a place that didn’t feel too awkward, Dean turned his attention back to the furniture he had to prep. It was easier than thinking about dating.

~

“If you’re gonna go out for coffee, you need to put on a clean shirt.”

Dean frowned, staring down at the shirt he’d put on. A dark grey fabric stared back up at him, slightly wrinkled but relatively unblemished as far as he was concerned. He’d cleaned it up that morning and he hadn’t even gone out to work in the shed so there was no way there were wood chips or sawdust or wood stain on it.

“It is clean. I don’t see anything on it.”

“There’s a stain on the hem, oil or something.” Ben replied, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the stain that was present. “And dark grey’s not your colour. I say go with that dark green shirt, that’ll probably look better.”

The stain was there when Dean took a closer look and he sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. He’d never admit to anyone, especially Ben, but he’d spent longer than he should’ve trying to find a shirt that balanced casual with some trace of effort. It was an omen, Dean decided. An omen that this date was going to fail and that all of his dates were going to fail.

“When’d you become such a fashionista?”

Ben shrugged, gesturing for Dean to head back upstairs and change. Dean did so, begrudgingly.

He hadn’t been on a date in years and while this date was only coffee, it was still daunting. Dating was supposed to be simple, the rules predefined and set out by generations of successful couples before him but technology had changed things and Dean wasn’t sure of the new landscape. Lily could be the kind of woman who’d love if he held the door and pulled out her chair but he could also be the kind of woman who would scream in his face if he assumed she took 2% milk and not some alternative in her coffee. The stakes weren’t high but Dean didn’t love the odds presented to him.

Dean changed his shirt and spent several minutes psyching himself up as he combed his hair and brushed his teeth. Calling Charlie to psych him up would’ve been a better idea but he hadn’t told her they’d moved yet and he had a feeling she’d yell at him for that before boosting his ego. Of course she’d probably yell at him for going on a date without telling her first. It was a lose-lose situation.

Ben was practically waiting by the door when Dean finally made his way downstairs. He’d been waiting for Dean to leave for the last 20 minutes and opened the door for him, gesturing impatiently.

“Why do you want me out so bad?” Dean asked as he stepped outside. “You got a hot date coming over?”

“Claire and Jack are coming over, they said they want to see my room and also they’re tired of hanging out with their dad. Claim he’s not leaving the house unless it’s for work or late at night.”

“You’re certainly spending a lot of time with them.”

“Yeah cuz that’s what you do with friends. You’d know that if you called your best friend and told her we moved down here.”

“I’ll get to that eventually,” Dean mumbled. He didn’t appreciate that Ben was essentially calling him friendless but he wasn’t entirely wrong either. Not that he’d ever admit that.

“You said that years ago. But anyway, go and meet that woman. Have fun and be safe.”

Dean paused, hand on the handle of the impala door. “Those are my lines, kiddo. You be safe too, don’t throw a rager and destroy the house while I’m out.”

“Yeah yeah.”

Dean shook his head, mildly amused, and then got into his car. The impala, for all intents and purposes, was his emotional support car. It had been with him since he was a kid, his late father’s car he’d fixed up over too many years to count. The interior was original, most of it was, and he knew it like the back of his hand. There was a toy soldier stuck in the back left ashtray and a lego brick rattled whenever the air was turned out, remnants of Ben’s childhood and memories Dean wouldn’t trade for the world.

The impala didn’t feel like home today.

The leather seats were hot and sticky, victims of the hot July sun beating down from the heavens. Dean shifted, the squeak of the movement interrupting the Creedence Clearwater Revival tape playing in the background. He hadn’t been this nervous since he’d told Ben they were moving and that had gone down like a lead balloon. It would be fine, probably, but Dean didn’t feel it.

“It’s just coffee, relax.” Dean told himself, fingers nervously tapping the wheel as he drove by the local movie theatre. The theatre gave him pause and he let himself reminisce, another memory floating through his head.

“I still can’t believe you’re going on your first official date in your fixed up car.” Mary beamed, smiling at Dean from across the kitchen counter. He’d been helping her all day with preparing dinner, hands sticky and greasy as he scooped up pork and rice and rolled it in cabbage leaves. It was traditional for them to do this once a year, a bonding experience neither wanted to give up.

Dean looked up, his expression somewhere between pride and embarrassment. Mary seemed entirely too excited about it but he didn’t blame her. Sam was 12, he wasn’t about to start dating, so the excitement ad responsibility fell to him.

“I can’t believe it took me this long to fix her but yeah, I am. Lisa seems excited about it but I dunno if it’s because she’s going out with me or if it’s because it’s a shiny classic car that’ll make other people jealous.”

“It’s probably both. It was when your father took me out in that car for the first time.”

Dean’s expression shifted, surprise settling into the lines of his face. Mary didn’t talk about John, ever. If she drank then maybe and always on their anniversary but not on the other 364 days of the year.

“Dad took you out in this car?” Dean asked, crossing to the sink to wash his hands.

“He did, all of the time; said we were both his favourite girls. Lots of memories in that car and I’m really glad you get the chance to make your own memories too. He wanted you to have it, I know that much.”

“I hope I’m living up to what he wanted.”

Mary nodded, leaning back against the counter. “You’ve been with Lisa for a while, that’s good. She’s a nice girl, makes you happy. You be safe tonight, I don’t want any grandkids yet.”

“That’s my cue to leave.” Dean mumbled, grossed out by the insinuation. “I’ll be quiet when I get home, I promise.”

“Good. Have fun and be safe.”

Dean nodded one more time before he grabbed his keys and left.

Dean barely remembered the date, just that it was supposed to be at a movie theatre they never made it to. Where they did end up was an empty cornfield on the edge of town with snacks and a blanket laid out on the ground. It had been a good date and when Dean glanced back at the back seat, he felt heat rush to his face. He’d done exactly what his mother had told him not to do and the consequences were living with him almost 16 years later.

The coffee shop for the date was a nice public space that Dean hadn’t been to yet so he was unsure what to expect. Hasbean’s it was called, a clever name that Dean appreciated, and the interior felt similar to every other coffee shop Dean had ever been in. There was a brick wall interior, leafy plants in the corner, and hard wooden chairs with iron legs. What he did like were the records hung on the wall and the neon sign. It was just different enough to pique his interest.

He didn’t see the woman he was supposed to be meeting and, not wanting to risk being that person that sat at a table without a drink, decided to buy a coffee and wait. The coffee was smooth when he took his first sip, just cresting the hill of approaching bitter and burnt without toppling over it. His mind wandered as he waited, vaguely skimming over the few details he’d gleaned from the woman. She was plain but pretty and had some kind of job related to children. Aside from that, Dean didn’t know anything except that her name was Lily.

Ten minutes and then fifteen passed and when dean finally glanced at his phone, he was dismayed to find that she was late. Assuming he’d been stood up felt like jumping to too many conclusions but it stung regardless. He understood being busy, the first week of work had absolutely murdered him, but a heads up on an eta or even a text cancelling would’ve been preferable.

“Devon?”

Dean glanced up, confused. Clearly the woman was talking to him and when he looked closer, he recognized her.

“It’s Dean. You’re Lily, right?”

Her eyes widened, embarrassment flooding her face and voice. “I’m so sorry I totally just forgot your name and I’m really sorry about being late. Today’s been insane and I haven’t had the time to get my thoughts together.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Dean shrugged, though it did bother him. “We’re human, we all make mistakes.”

“Thanks. I would’ve been on time but a parent completely forgot to pick up their kid so I had to call and stay behind until they got there. Call me crazy but you really shouldn’t be forgetting to pick up your own child.”

“So you work with kids then?”

Lily nodded before she finally sat across from Dean. She looked much the same as she had in her picture, strawberry blonde hair and dark brown eyes. It wasn’t a combo Dean usually went for but he was trying to be more open so it was fine. Her shirt seemed like something someone who worked with kids would wear though, full of a brightly coloured swirling pattern.

“I do. I’m a third grade teacher most of the year and when there’s no school I run all of the arts and crafts at a camp for kids.”

“So you’re a creative type then, that’s cool. Got a favourite type of art?”

That simple question opened the flood gates and Dean soon found himself swept away by the barrage. He didn’t mind when people went on tangents about themselves, especially if they had cute little habits, but there was a difference between a tangent and an unforgiving onslaught. For nearly thirty minutes Lily droned on without so much as a pause, let alone a chance for Dean to interject and talk about himself. It was only when she stopped to take a sip of her coffee that Dean was finally able to speak up again.

“You’re really passionate about art, that’s really cool.” He said, pausing to mull over his words. “The parents must love you during parent teacher conferences.”

“They do. But between you and I, I really don’t love the parents.”

Dean’s eyebrow raised, his interest piqued. “Is there a tier list of shitty parents?”

“Oh you know it. This might be an unpopular opinion and I could be entirely wrong but single parents are by far the worst. But you probably don’t want to hear more about work so we can just ignore it.”

The sour feeling in Dean’s stomach sharpened and he bit back an immediate comment he knew wouldn’t be well received.

“Oh no, go ahead and rant away.”

With Dean’s blessing, Lily began her rant. It started off innocently enough with the emotionally absent parents but took a hard left as soon as she brought up single parents. Dean knew that single parents were highly contentious in the world of education, he’d learned from experience, but experience hadn’t prepared him for how much the voiced sentiment would actually hurt.

Lily was vicious in her breakdown of why single parents sucked. They were overinvolved or not involved enough, a wild oscillation between an emotional rollercoaster and the emotional capacity of wet cardboard. Single parents also worked too much and didn’t bother trying to be active in their children’s lives.

Dean’s stomach knotted itself tighter and tighter with each passing minute. He wasn’t like any of the parents Lily was describing and the insinuation was insulting. He’d always encouraged Ben’s interests, always been there to support him without telling him what to do, and had never tried to overstep if he could help. Dean’s neutral expression nearly broke when he heard Lily beginning to rant about how single dads thought they were God’s gift to the world and how they always hit on her at the parent teacher conferences like she was an easy lay.

Dean felt his ears ringing and then his body was on autopilot as he got up, mumbling a half-hearted explanation about how it had been nice to meet her but he wasn’t interested in continuing the date. He wasn’t sure if he mentioned the single dad thing or not because he was already in his car and heading home by the time he came out of his daze and slammed back into reality. The date had been disappointing but not surprising. They were never surprising.

When he did get home, Dean couldn’t hear Ben or the neighbours so he assumed they were busy and breathed a sigh of relief. He wanted to get to the backyard and pity barbecue with a beer on the side. It was only when he got out of the car that he noticed Cas was in his front yard and knee deep in what looked like a problematic patch of weeds.

“Weeding on a Sunday afternoon. How elderly of you.” Dean chuckled as he wandered over to the fence separating their yards. He hadn’t known Cas long but he liked the conversations they’d had so far.

Cas paused, brushed his hands on his pants, and rose to his full height before turning around to face Dean. There was another moment of silence as he took in Dean’s appearance before he shook his head. “I’m entitled to my old man hobbies, I’m raising two kids. Why are you so dressed up?”

“I’m not dressed up, it’s literally just a nice t-shirt.”

“Alright then, why are you in a nice t-shirt?”

“Remember how I said my kid bullied me into dating again? Yeah, well I should’ve known not to listen to him.”

“Was it really that bad?”

“Yeah, it was.” Dean admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I’m a simple guy, don’t get me wrong, but I do have standards. She was late which fine, whatever, but uhf really didn’t seem all that interested in me. Then there was the whole ‘I’m gonna go rant about why single parents, especially single dads, are the worst’ which obviously doesn’t fly.”

Cas let out a whistle of surprise before leaning against the fence. “Well you sure know how to pick ‘em. That’s exactly why I don’t do dates.”

“Well clearly I’m going to have to take a page out of your book and pick up nighttime hobbies. Kind of sucks though cuz there’s this really cool memorabilia shop I wants to check out but a grown man going in alone just feels a little sad.”

“You said you’ve got a nerdy friend in town, why not take her?”

“One, she still doesn’t know I moved down here and two, she’s more a video game star trek nerd than she is a horror movie nerd.”

“Ah, I see.” Cas said, taking another minute to think. He could’ve left it alone but he liked Dean and he felt bad that the date had gone so awfully. There was a hint of curiosity too, the kind of curiosity Cas hadn’t felt in a while. Dean was new, he was different, and more importantly, he was fun. “Tell you what, I’ll go with you. Maybe you can make me less of an old man as you say.”

Dean grinned before he could stop himself, clearly pleased. Making friends as an adult was one of the hardest things he’d ever done so he wasn’t about to waste this chance. Especially not when the friend in question was such an odd guy. It helped that Dean suspected Ben liked Claire. All the more reason to be friends with her father.

“That’d be cool, I’d be down.”

“Great.”

“I’ll let you know when I’m planning on going, we can figure a day out later if it doesn’t work. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m gonna go fire up the grill and have myself a pity beer.”

“Enjoy your pity beer and better luck on the next date.”

Cas watched Dean make his way into the house before he turned back to his garden, still smiling. Dean seemed promising.

Chapter Text

Friday was the first stat holiday since the Winchesters had moved and Dean had a million and one plans to make the most of it. He’d woken up early to make breakfast for himself and Ben, a classic made up of waffles with Canadian maple syrup and bacon. Nothing beat Canadian maple syrup. There was coffee too but Dean had made it just strong enough that Ben would take one sip and decide against drinking more of it.

He’d planned to spend the morning working on the furniture he’d picked up from Rowena but the universe had other plans for him. Just as Dean got up from the kitchen table with coffee in hand, there was a knock at the front door. He paused, glancing over at Ben.

“You expecting anyone?”

Ben shook his head, mouth too full of waffle to respond properly.

Lips pursed, Dean made his way over to the front door. He had a sneaking suspicion he’d find a neighbour on the other side of the door but the mystery was who it would be. People back in Lawrence had never been this friendly, Dean could count on one hand the number of times someone had shown up unexpectedly at his door.

The Novaks were there on the other side, all three of them in decidedly summery outfits. Claire’s was a bit too ‘by the sea Mr. Todd’ but Dean was beginning to realize that the angsty emo thing was her whole shtick so it was unsurprising.

“Hey, is Ben home?” Claire asked Dean, arms crossed over her chest impatiently. She had places to be it seemed.

“Well good morning to you too.” Dean mumbled. “But yeah, he’s home. I take it you want to hang out."

“We’re going to the beach, just wanted to see if he would wanna come.”

“The invitation extends to you as well, if you’re not too busy.” Cas added, still hovering behind his kids. He was dressed for the weather, a loose linen short and classic dad shorts. The outfit looked comfortable.

“I’m not all that busy today, mostly just wanted to work on restoring some old furniture for Rowena. Why don’t you come on in and I’ll go ask Ben what he wants to do.”

The Novaks stepped into the entryway and Dean turned on his heels, heading back to the kitchen. Ben was at the sink washing the dishes and turned when he heard Dean, gesturing for him to hand over the empty coffee mug on the table.

“I heard Claire at the door.” He said, taking the mug from Dean. “What’s she here for?”

“You. They’re all going to the beach, wanted to know if you’d want to come with them. Well us, but I doubt you want your dad tagging along.”

“Did Claire and Jack invite you or did their dad?”

“Cas did, obviously. I’m pretty sure that Claire doesn’t vibe with me which is probably just teen angst but whatever. “

“If he invited you then go, I don’t really care. You need friends and it’s not like we’d be hanging out together there anyway.”

Dean nodded, not thinking too much about Ben’s observation. He shooed him off to go entertain the Novaks while he searched for their beach essentials and a bag to shove them in. Ben wandered over to the entry way, not entirely sure what to expect or how to start a conversation.

“This means you’re coming, right?” Claire said, a smile lighting up her face when she noticed Ben in the hallway. “Cuz I really need someone interesting to save me from these two.”

“Rude.” Jack mumbled, glaring when Claire shrugged her shoulders in their direction.

“True though. All you do is go shell hunting and dad just sits there with his book. Can’t really play beach volleyball by myself and I still don’t know if Kaia’s gonna make it today so yeah, I need Ben and his new guy interest to keep me entertained.”

“I am a volleyball player so you know we’re gonna win.” Ben grinned. “Was on track to be captain at my old school and everything.”

Claire grinned back, clearly encouraged by his successes. She liked winning and blamed it on the competitive streak she inherited from her mother. Nothing about Cas struck her as competitive so there was no way she’d gotten it from him.

Dean popped downstairs a few minutes later, packed beach bag thrown over his shoulder. He’d traded in his ratty pajamas for swim trunks and a light t-shirt, opting for a more casual look than the Novaks. He let the conversation finish before turning to Cas. “Alright, I think we’re good to go. Separate cars?”

“Mine fits five, we can just take that. Might be easier considering you don’t know where the beach is and my family does outnumber yours by one.”

“Works for me, saves on gas money.” Dean shrugged, ushering everyone outside so he could close the front door and lock it up. Truth be told he was curious about the kind of vehicle that Cas drove. He hadn’t seen one in the driveway so he couldn’t immediately judge the other man on his taste. Cas seemed like a practical guy though so Dean knew a small car was out right off the bat and he certainly didn’t seem like the kind of man who would have a modified truck either. An suv seemed like an appropriate vehicle so Dean was more than a little surprised when he finally saw Cas’ car.

“I thought you said car, this thing is a boat.” Dean mumbled in disbelief.

Cas paused, eyebrow shooting up again. “Need I remind you about our ‘I didn’t peg you for that kind of guy’ conversation again?”

“No, no, sorry. Just uh, haven’t seen one of these in a while. Kind of pegged you for an suv guy, practicality and whatnot.”

“I would argue that the car I got in high school that’s still running relatively well several years later is practical enough. Besides, the trunk space speaks for itself. Fairly certain it’s got more than the impala I see in your driveway.”

“You’re dead wrong.” Dean said, unable to stop the triumph creeping into his voice as he slid into the passenger seat. It was a bizarre feeling not being in the driver’s seat but the faint whining from Claire that Dean was in her unofficial official seat was enough to amuse him. Apparently teenage girls were more entertaining than their brothers.

“And how would you know I’m dead wrong.”

“Well modern standards show contintentals with about 16.6 cubic feet of trunk space while the modern impala’s got like 18.7 cubic feet or so. And I know what you’re gonna say, ‘oh Dean these aren’t modern cars’ and yeah they aren’t but statistically speaking my baby has more trunk space than yours.”

“You have an entire child and your car is your baby?”

“Pretty sure Ben would riot if I even thought about calling him my baby so yeah, that’s just reserved for the car”

Cas nodded, taking a quick glance back at Claire. She’d have a similar reaction so he understood. He took one more moment to collect his thoughts before the group were headed off towards the beach. It was nice to have another adult in the front seat and another kid in the back, Ben more than able to keep Claire and Jack entertained while Cas drove.

“So, clearly you know carpentry and something about mechanics. Got any other hidden skills I should know about?”

“Are we counting a razor sharp wit and impeccable comedic timing as skills? Because if so, absolutely I do. We could always couple that with the basic plumbing and electrical know how I’ve got.”

“So I’m calling you the second something in my house decides to break is what I’m getting from this conversation.”

“I’m hurt you won’t be calling for my razor sharp wit.” Dean chuckled, settling into the seat. It was so easy to banter with Cas and Dean hadn’t realized how much he’d missed banter.

Cas rolled his eyes as if he were exasperated before turning his attention back to the road. The pair sat in comfortable silence for a couple minutes until Cas heard Claire mention something he had no interest in hearing about. At that point he decided music was the best option and turned it up just loud enough to drown out the chatter coming from the back.

Dean heard the music almost immediately, curiosity growing. He hadn’t really thought about what Cas would listen to and music was one of those litmus tests that separated the good from the bad. If Cas liked bubble-gum pop, which clearly he didn’t, there was no way they could be friends. Bubble-gum pop was sickly sweet and entirely too manufactured for Dean’s taste. Country was iffy but more of a red flag than not, too specific and twangy to mean much of anything. Rock was where it was at; perfect blends of guitar and vocals combined with masterful lyrics and accrual performances to stir up a myriad of emotions in one’s heart. The sheer number of sub genres alone were enough to promote diversity and interest.

Dean recognized the first song, then the second, and then the next three after it. With each passing song, his amusement grew until he couldn’t help but say something. “Divorced dad rock, really? Not what I pegged you for.”

“This is the third wrong thing you’ve pegged me for in like three days. At this point I feel like I should tell you to save all the pegging for the bedroom.”

Heat prickled Dean’s cheeks, eyes wide as he quickly glanced back at the kids. They hadn’t heard anything and while that helped him relax, it didn’t ease the hammering of his heart. A comment like that wasn’t made unless you were good friends or flirting, neither of which was true now. Friends, sure, but good friends, no. Dean had no clue how to respond and when he tried to think of something, of anything, to say, his words got caught in his throat.

“I’m guessing we haven’t reached that level of familiarity yet so I apologize.” Cas said. “I just wanted to see some of that razor sharp wit you’re apparently so well known for.”

“Just wasn’t expecting a comment like that, s’all. Your music’s not bad, just not what I was expecting.”

“I’m generally not what people expect so I’m not surprised, not offended either. You don’t seem horribly offended by the music and you haven’t thrown yourself from the car so I take it rock is an alright genre for you.”

“Motley Crue, Def Leppard, Lynyrd Skynyrd rock sure is.”

Cas snorted, amusement glimmering in his eyes. He waited until he found a parking spot before responding, turning slightly to face Dean. “Yeah, cuz the greatest hits of mullet rock are so much better than divorced dad rock. Genre suits you though, I’ll give you that.”

The kids had clued in to their location when they heard the radio shut off and Claire was the first out of the car, pulling open the trunk so she could grab their things and find the best spot on the beach. She’d been trapped long enough in a car with too many men and boys and needed the silent affirmation that came from being around other women.

Ben watched her run off with one of the bags as he grabbed his and Dean’s, turning to glance back at Jack. “I don’t think we were that bad in the back. No need for her to run off like that.”

“That’s just the way she is, nothing either of us did. Besides, she’s probably trying to get our usual spot so Kaia knows where we’ll be if she does make it today.”

“She’s mentioned her a couple times, she’s Claire’s best friend right?”

Jack nodded their head, taking off in the direction that Claire ran. “Yeah, they’ve been inseparable since like second grade or something. Kaia was new and some kid was being a dick so Claire yelled at the kid and that was that.”

“What’s she like?”

“She’s cool, kind of stubborn. She’s got some kind of weird family thing, lives a foster family who’re pretty chill for the most part. Pretty sure she’s captain of the girl’s wrestling team but don’t know for sure.”

Ben nodded, taking a moment to digest the information. At worst Kaia was someone he’d have to put up with if he wanted to hang out with Claire and get to know her and at best Kaia’d be a great friend and a wingman.

Claire was already stretched out on a beach towel by the time Ben and Jack got to her, sunglasses perched on her nose so she didn’t’ accidentally blind herself by staring into the sun. She glanced up at the boys through her sunglasses, gesturing to the towel she’d laid out beside her.

“Took you two long enough to get here, I’m basically half-baked already.”

“I’ll roll you over if you want to bake the other side.” Ben joked, digging through his bag for his beach towel. He laid it out beside Claire’s before taking a seat, stretching his legs out towards the water. Up until now he’d only seen Claire in her cover up, a lacy semi-opaque dress that suited her, and now he was trying incredibly hard to look respectfully at her bathing suit. It was a black one piece with a spider webbed design and a mesh cut-out on the side. Back in Lawrence, the girls had only ever worn bikinis and while this showed less, Ben found it more interesting. Maybe it was just the girl wearing it but he wasn’t entirely sure.

“You should probably put on sunscreen so you don’t burn and peel again.” Jack said as they set their towel down on Claire’s other side. “I don’t want to hear your complaining and dad’s just gonna tell you that it was your fault for being irresponsible if you complain about hurting.”

Claire shot Jack a look of annoyance but sat up, rummaging through her bag for the sunscreen she’d packed. Jack was right like they usually were and it was incredibly annoying. She applied the sunscreen everywhere she could reach before she turned to Ben hands still covered in a white cast. “You need sunscreen?”

Ben shrugged in response and Claire took that as a yes. She put her sunscreen covered hands on his shoulders and rubbed it in before pulling her hands away, oblivious to the sudden redness of Ben’s face or Jack’s attentive gaze. Satisfied with her efforts, she put her sunglasses back on and returned to stretching out.

“So,” Jack said as they tried to make conversation, “What do we think about our dads being friends?”

“I don’t really care to be honest.” Claire replied.

“Well I think it’s good. My dad didn’t really have a lot of friends when we lived in Lawrence so it’s kind of nice seeing him talk to someone. I guess he’s got Charlie but she’s lived in town here for like a decade and dad’s not great at communicating. He’s kind of like a dog cuz he really only does social things if someone drags him out to do them.”

“Well our dad’s got no shortage of people he knows so I think yours is good hands. Besides, I think ours is intrigued by yours.”

Ben raised an eyebrow, curious as to what Jack was trying to say. “What makes you say that?”

“Well he invited you guys to the beach for one, but it’s also the seventeen conversations they’ve had since you guys moved here. Dad has coffee on the back porch every morning before he gets into the garden and I can see into the backyard from my window and every time I look out, dad’s looking over the fence and talking to your dad. There was also the whole car conversation today too.”

“What car conversation?” Claire interrupted.

“I didn’t really hear it cuz of the music but they were chatting and I’m like 90% sure that dad made some kind of comment or joke or something cuz they were both kinda laughing and I think someone’s face might’ve gone red. So yeah, dad definitely thinks Dean is cool.”

“My dad isn’t cool, no way. He spends all his time working on furniture like some loner gepetto and when he’s not doing that, he’s collecting like horror memorabilia which just isn’t cool. Course the whole dating thing now is probably gonna complicate things but that’s also not my problem.”

“Speaking of dating, did you ever ask your dad about that woman in the picture?” Claire asked, tuning back into the conversation. She sounded interested now, looking at Ben intently.

Ben shook his head. “It hasn’t come up so no. I thought about asking but he had a really bad date the other day and he’s not the most talkative on a good day about that kind of stuff. I kind of want to snoop around his closet to see if I can find anything but I have to wait until he goes to work so that’s a Monday problem.”

“Wait what’s going on with your dad?” Jack asked.

“Did Claire not tell you?”

“She doesn’t tell me anything.”

Claire scoffed, irritated. “I do so tell you things. I just haven’t lately because you decided not to tell me that dad’s been doing it with randos for months.”

“Fair but that’s not what we’re talking about. So what’s going on with your dad then?”

“Basically my dad doesn’t talk about my mom and I don’t know if it’s because she’s dead or what but I found a picture of him and someone who I think might be her when I was rooting through photos to use for his dating profile. I’m trying to find out if it’s her and if it is, if she’s dead or alive or anything really. Problem is is that he won’t tell me her name or talk about her so I have to snoop to try and figure it out but it’s hard to do when he’s in the house.”

“Weird he hasn’t just sat down and talked to you about her.”

Ben raised an eyebrow, a quirk he’d picked up from Dean. “Why, your dad tell you about your mom?”

“When we were 12.” Claire said. “Anyway, I’ll help you look on Monday if you want. I kinda want to snoop around your house a little bit, it still feels mysterious. Also I don’t think your dad likes me.”

“He doesn’t really like anybody so it’s not you, promise.”

Claire didn’t seem entirely convinced by Ben’s promise but let it go, shrugging her shoulders. Parents being wary of her was no new thing and truth be told, every time she got a weird look she felt more self-assured. There was no point in being boring and ordinary.

As the kids sat and chatted, Cas and Dean chose their spots a respectable distance away. It was just far enough to avoid hearing their conversation but close enough to keep an eye on them in case they had any harebrained ideas and decided to screw around. With their towels spread out, the pair took a seat.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Dean asked, gesturing in the direction of the teenagers as Claire and Ben left Jack to make a beeline for the volleyball net.

“If you mean the two of them going to play volleyball then yes, I see what you see.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at Cas as if he were exasperated. “We both know I’m not talking about volleyball. I’m talking about how close they’ve been since we moved here.”

“Oh you mean the crush your son obviously has on my daughter? Yes, I’ve noticed that.”

“Okay good, was hoping I wasn’t imagining things. What do you think about it?”

Cas shrugged his shoulders in response. He hadn’t really given it much thought and as far as he was concerned, it really wasn’t any of his business. If Claire wanted to talk about it more than they had Saturday morning, she’d find the time and talk to him about it. Clearly Dean was preoccupied by it.

“I don’t think about it.” Cas finally replied. “Clearly you do. You don’t seem overly pleased by it.”

“I just don’t want things getting messy, call it a paternal instinct or something. He’s got a good friendship going with your kids and an unrequited crush is a sure fire way to fuck that all up.”

“So you think Claire’s going to break his heart. Pretty sure the men are usually the ones to fuck it all up.”

“Speaking from experience, I take it?”

“Observed, not lived. Can’t really fuck up a relationship if all you’re aiming for is semi regular casual sex.”

Dean shrugged his shoulders as if to say ‘I guess so’ before stretching out further over the beach towel. Cas’ forthcoming nature about his sex life was still jarring but Dean knew he’d get used to it eventually. He’d have to if he wanted to stay friends. The pair sat there in a comfortable silence, Dean observing the other beachgoers while Cas pulled out a book with some horribly pretentious title when Dean caught a glance of it. Leave it up to him to pull out a book at the beach of all places.

It was sometime around the 2 hour mark that the dynamic shifted ever so slightly. Cas set his book down which drew Dean’s attention and soon the pair were watching the kids and the girl that was approaching them. Ben was the first to notice her, distracted as she approached. The volleyball hit the side of his arm before he could register what was happening, sending it flying at the girl with brute force. Seconds before disaster the girl put up her hands and managed to catch the ball, the expression on her face wrinkled with displeasure.

“You often launch volleyballs at strangers?” she asked, pausing beside the net.

“Haven’t played with a team since May, I’m a little rusty. Sorry.”

“Would’ve pegged you for a lacrosse player but volleyball’s cool too.” She said, leaning against the pole the net was strung on. “You’re Ben, right?”

Ben paused, suspicion raising his eyebrow nearly off his face. The girl continued.

“I’m Kaia, Claire’s best friend. She talks about you a lot, thought you’d be taller though.”

“I get that a lot.” Ben sighed. “We could use someone else for the game if you want to play.”

Kaia nodded and made a beeline for Claire’s side, greeting her with a tight hug. Ben didn’t know much about the way girls were with each other but he knew enough to know that the hug felt ever so slightly too long. He heard Jack come up alongside him, turning his head to acknowledge them.

“It’s gonna be like 25 minutes before we get to play again so I’d get comfy if I were you.” Jack said. “Get ready for inside jokes you’re not gonna understand, swear they talk in a whole other language sometimes.”

True to Jack’s word, it did take several minutes before the game was able to start up again and the banter was practically incessant. Ben didn’t mind it at first but the gnawing pit in his stomach grew and grew the more he saw Claire and Kaia interact. They were friends, best friends, but it didn’t sit right with him. Not when they were practically all over each other.

Dean and Cas watched from afar, far more interested in the scene playing out with their kids than their own conversations. They watched for a few minutes before Dean broke the silence, turning to Cas with his signature look of mild amusement and concern.

“What do you think about what’s going on there? See anything coming down the pipe?”

“Trouble.”

Chapter Text

Ben was no stranger to the feeling in his stomach when he woke up, the same creeping fluttering feeling that had been plaguing him for years. It was ever present, lingering in the back of his mind with a singular passive malevolence ever since he could remember.

He’d been five the first time he’d experienced it. The day was cool, not cold, and the schoolyard rang out with the sounds of laughing playing children. He’d clung onto Dean’s legs, adamant in his refusal to let go and join the other kids in his kindergarten class. It took him several minutes and a bribe in the form of a stuffed animal before he was willing to join the other children.

Ben had been older the second time he experienced the feeling, familiar yet foreign. This fluttering was less consistent, choosing instead to settle deep into his gut and seep upwards towards his heart. It was cold and heavy. The other children had made fun of him when he’d told them he didn’t know his mom and the shame of the revelation that maybe his family wasn’t the norm stung.

He was twelve the first time the fluttering feeling had been positive. It started low in his gut, lower than his stomach, and pulsed in an off-beat rhythm when the ginger girl from his social studies class smiled at him. The longer she smiled at him, the longer the feeling lasted. Dean told him that it meant he liked the girl and Ben recalled making a face. Girls were gross, he didn’t like them.

This morning the fluttering was the telltale wings of anxiety. They flapped inside his stomach with a maddening intensity as he dragged himself from bed, hardwood floor cool on his bare feet. The rhythm steadied itself as he rummaged through his drawers, fading nearly once he dressed himself and headed downstairs. Dean was gone for work by then and Ben reached for the leftover coffee in the pot, pouring it into the skull mug he’d claimed for himself four years ago around Halloween.

“Should have enough time for breakfast.” Ben mumbled to himself as he reached for a bagel. It was a quick an easy breakfast and he hoped it would settle any lingering nausea when the fluttering would inevitably return to his stomach. The doorbell rang just as Ben pulled the cream cheese from the fridge and he sighed, shuffling off to the front door.

Claire and Jack stood on the other side, Claire grinning ear to ear with a smile that had the fluttering in Ben’s stomach returning with a cartoonish vengeance. She looked good, like she always did, and Ben found his eyes drawn to her t-shirt. It was the black and white clown on it that startled him, the character’s expression unsettling and unhinged.

“My dad doesn’t like the shirt either.” Claire said as she shuffled inside, Jack following behind her. “I think it’s fun. Well the franchise is fun anyway, really feels like it’s bringing back the era of horror with gratuitous violence which is always a wild ride.”

“Shirt’s cool, just don’t like clowns. Didn’t think you’d be here this early either, haven’t had time for breakfast.”

“Claire just couldn’t wait to snoop around your dad’s stuff.” Jack replied.

Anxiety spiked through Ben again but he swallowed it down, nodding his head as he turned back to his now burnt bagel and softening cream cheese. They’d agreed to snoop through Dean’s things to try and get information on his mom and as much as he wanted to know, needed to know, he was still nervous. Dean wouldn’t react well if he found out.

“In my defence I just wanna know what makes him so interesting that dad just has to talk to him every morning cuz, and no offence Ben, your dad doesn’t seem cool.”

“Your dad isn’t exactly cool either so pot and kettle here.”

Claire shrugged, unable to argue with Ben. Cas wasn’t cool, not by modern standards anyhow. It occurred to her as she pulled up a chair and sat down that she’d never paid much attention to what the inside of the house looked like.

The kitchen was simple and when she looked around, she noticed a few things. There was a stack of recipe books in the corner of the counter, spines cracked and pages littered with yellow sticky notes and chicken scratch. Next to the sticky notes were a couple glass jars labelled with writing so faded she couldn’t quite make out what it was meant to say. It was the calendar that caught her attention at the very end. Aside from the writing scrawled on several precise dates, there was the unmistakable face of chucky staring back at her.

“You guys have a horror movie calendar in your kitchen.”

Ben nodded. “Dad likes horror movies so yeah, we’ve got a horror movie calendar. Not really my thing but it’s also not my house or mortgage. You’ll like his room if you like the calendar.”

“Think I’d rather see your room first.”

Ben nearly choked on his bagel, piece stuck in his throat dislodging with a sharp ache. He told himself the redness in his face and fluttering in his stomach was from the bagel and only the bagel. Not Claire’s sudden and completely innocuous non-hidden meaning interest in seeing his room. Friends saw friends rooms all the time and Jack was there so it wasn’t like it actually meant anything.

“I- uh, yeah, sure. We can hang up there for a little bit if you want. My dad’s not gonna be back until like 4 anyway so we’ve got a lot of time to do stuff.”

Claire smiled back, waiting or Ben to finish his bagel. They’d been hanging out for a while but it had always been outside or in a public lace and she was more than a little curious about how he decorated his room. Truth be told, she was a lot curious about it. Room decoration said a lot about the kind of person someone would be and she had a feeling Ben’s room would be incredibly revealing.

When Ben finished with his bagel Claire got up to follow him upstairs, taking in the rest of the house as they passed through it. Nothing in particular stood out, it wasn’t decorated in any special way and there was no outward display that told her much of anything about Ben or Dean until they got to the staircase. Pictures lined the wall of the staircase and she paused to look at the first one.

A small child stood in the photo and beamed at the camera, bottom two teeth missing in the wide smile. There was a small stuffed frog smothered in the arms of the child, black button eyes bulging out at the camera as if the plushie was being squeezed to death.

“Please tell me that that’s you as a kid.” Claire said, gesturing to the photo. She was rewarded with a sheepish nod which only made her more curious. “You gotta tell us about the stuffed frog.”

“Or he can just not give in to the million questions you’re gonna ask him and remain free from your commentary. You can be a lot when you’ve got a million questions to ask and it’s way too early for detective.” Jack said from the back.

“And here you are proving that I’m the cooler sibling like always. Where’s your curiosity?”

Jack mumbled something under their breath but decided not to respond. It was easier to let Claire do what she wanted to do.

The pair followed Ben up the stairs and down the hallway, Claire trying to take in all of the photos on the walls along the way. There were several of Ben throughout the years and a few of what looked like Ben with an older woman but there weren’t any of Dean, not that Claire was overly surprised. Dean didn’t really seem like a picture man.

“So this is my room. Don’t judge it too hard.” Ben said, snapping Claire out of her reverie.

The hardwood under Claire’s feet was less than comfortable as she stepped inside the bedroom head swiveling like a panopticon as she tried to take everything in. There was a solid wooden desk in the far right with notebooks stacked on top of it and pens littered across the surface, a mess that seemed tame in comparison to her desk in her own room. Crossing the room to get a better look at the bookshelf, Claire found some more insight into Ben.

Trophies and awards littered the shelves, each engraved with his name and the year. There were soccer and baseball trophies from the early years but they all gave way to volleyball trophies. Pictures spanned the top shelf, Ben in the middle of a team of guys with the same haircuts. It was eerily reminiscent of the photos Kaia had on her shelf and Claire wondered if they’d managed to bond over sports at the beach.

“I knew you played volleyball but I didn’t realize how long you’ve been playing.” She said, reaching out to take one of the framed photos. “Are you gonna try out for the team when the semester starts? You’d probably make it.”

Ben nodded in response, awkwardly hanging back by his bed as everyone looked around.

Claire set the photo back down before she turned around, eye zeroing in on Ben’s bed. Plaid comforter and navy sheets aside, there was a stuffed animal she was particularly interested in. The bedsprings creaked as she dropped onto the bed and scooped up the stuffed frog, staring into its bulging eyes. Its body was rough, the fabric a scratchy corduroy.

“This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” She commented, waggling to Ben with the frog’s arms. “Where’d you get it from?”

Ben, cheeks red with embarrassment knowing he hadn’t thought to put the stuffed frog away, dropped down next to Claire and began his explanation.

Ben didn’t like anything about his outfit: not the blue and red striped polo shirt or the beige cargo pants or the Velcro shoes that squeezed his toes just a little too much to be comfortable. He didn’t like the backpack on his back, the smiling faces of paw patrol sneering at him every time he caught a glance of himself in the mirror.

He certainly didn’t like where he was either.

The pavement outside of Woodfield Elementary was overrun with children and parents, childlike screams of joy layered in with the constant chatter of adults who hadn’t had their morning coffee or much luck in successfully wrangling their children and bringing them for their first day of school. Ben was glued to Dean, tiny arms wrapped around his leg and face buried in the denim of his dad’s jeans.

“You’ve got to let go of me, buddy.” Dean said, tone gentle but mildly amused. “You gotta be a big boy today.”

Ben clung to Dean harder, tiny voice muffled. “No I don’t.”

There was a moment of silence before Dean shifted, gingerly peeling Ben off of his leg just far enough for him to crouch down and look his son in the eyes. He could see the fear in Ben’s eyes and the glimmer of terror broke Dean’s heart. School wasn’t supposed to be scary.

“I can tell you’re really scared and that’s okay, it’s okay to be scared. But I know you’re going to have a good time and make friends and that you won’t be scared at all by the end of the day.”

“What if I don’t make friends?”

“Now why wouldn’t you make friends?” Dean asked, reaching out to put a hand on Ben’s shoulder.

Ben shrugged his shoulders, still hesitant to leave Dean’s side.

Dean thought for a few minutes before he turned, sliding his bag off of his shoulder before letting go of Ben’s shoulder. He dug through the bag for something, pulling it out and placing it in Ben’s hand. It was a white stuffed frog with bulging eyes and a sewn smile, the kind of toy that felt old but timeless.

“I was going to wait and give this to you after school but I think that you need this right now.” Dean explained. “This frog is special, okay? It was your mom’s frog and now it’s going to be yours.”

“Mommy had this?”

“Yeah kiddo, she did. She told me that she wanted you to have it when you started school because it’s special and has special powers. It makes you feel better about yourself and helps you make new friends if you want to make them.”

Ben examined the frog, curious about it. He believed Dean when he said it was his mom’s and the connection to her made the frog feel special. Maybe the frog would help him make friends. Even if it didn’t, it was still a cool new stuffed animal to have and add to his collection.

“Can I name him?”

“You can call him whatever you want to.”

Ben thought for a few minutes before a name came to him. “Leopold.”

“Leopold.” Dean repeated, trying to stifle a laugh. He had no idea where Ben had even heard that name, let alone why he’d want to name a stuffed animal it, but it was Ben’s choice and Dean was just trying to be supportive. “That’s a good name. Are you and Leopold going to be okay if I leave to go to work?”

“Can I have a hug before you go?”

Dean wrapped his arms around Ben in a tight hug, pressing a kiss to the top of his head before he pulled away. Ben was growing up and this was a huge step, the kind of huge step that would see Dean tearing up in his car on the way to work. “I love you, Ben. Now try to have a good day okay and I’ll see you at the end of it.”

“I love you too dad.”

Claire’s grin was good-natured as she set Leopold down, amusement sparkling in her eyes. “I think it’s sweet you’ve still got a stuffed animal, especially one from your mom.”

There was a faint flush on Ben’s face at the comment but Claire ignored it, instead pulling herself up from Ben’s bed. As exciting as his room was, it wasn’t why they had come over and it didn’t have the answers Claire was looking for. Unfortunately for her, Jack was asking Ben a couple questions and distracting him from their ultimate mission.

“Have you ever washed this guy? He looks a little scrungly in like a slightly concerning way.”

“Yeah, a couple times. Fun story, it’s why I was afraid of washing machines for like 3 months when I was six.” Ben laughed, launching into another story.

“Dad, daaaaaaad, dad!!” Ben called as he ran through the house, his tiny feet pattering on the floor. There was an urgency in his tone, a feeling that he might boil over any minute if he didn’t find Dean soon. Dean wasn’t in the bedroom, living room, or kitchen so that left one spot; the dreaded laundry room, a place full of noise and mystery.

Ben approached the laundry room with caution, his heavy footsteps slowing as they crept into tiptoe territory. He could see the back of Dean’s head from his vantage point and an idea popped into his head. Making sure the coast was clear Ben took a deep breath and ran at Dean, flinging his arms around his neck with a giggle. Dean jumped slightly but grabbed Ben’s legs before he could fall, sliding him up into a piggyback position.

“Someone’s full of energy this morning.” He chuckled. “You come over to help with the laundry?”

“No.”

“That’s fair, laundry sucks.”

Ben nodded his head, arms wrapped tight around Dean’s neck. “I want Leopold. Do you have him?”

Dean began to speak but Ben wasn’t paying attention, motion in the corner of his eye demanding his gaze. There, in the clear door of the washing machine, was Leopold; his eyes pressed against the glass as if he were begging for help. Ben’s eyes widened and he squirmed in Dean’s arms, trying to crawl down with a frightening urgency

“He’s drowning!” Ben cried as Dean set him down, making a beeline for the washer. He was only stopped by Dean’s arm hooking around him. Confusion set in when he heard Dean barely holding back a laugh.

“Leopold’s not drowning.” Dean said, crouching down to Ben’s level. “He’s a frog and frogs like the water, they can swim really well. All he’s doing is going for a swim so he can be nice and clean again.”

“Do you promise he’s not drowning?”

Dean thought for a moment before he held his pinky out and hooked it around Ben’s, shaking their hands. “I pinky promise.”

Claire was holding back a laugh by the time Ben finished recounting his childhood fear of washing machines, her sides aching. It was an adorable story and she appreciated the way Ben wasn’t afraid to admit that he was a sensitive kid. There was something refreshing about a guy who was able to admit he had feelings.

“Jack was afraid of our heater when they were five if it makes you feel any better.” She said, climbing out of Ben’s bed. “I think we should probably start snooping in your dad’s room before he gets home. Don’t really want to get caught doing it.”

Ben nodded, swallowing thickly. Each step as he crossed from his room and then down the hallway was hesitant, deliberate in how slow it was. The pulsing feeling had returned in his stomach, a mix of dull aches and sharp pangs that told him he was anxious. Snooping in Dean’s room wasn’t a good idea, it never had been, but the pros outweighed the cons and he wanted answers. He needed answers. Ben stopped just shy of Dean’s door, turning back to Claire and Jack.

“You need to make sure everything is put back exactly the same way as you find it. If he thinks I went through his stuff, he might explode and he’s kind of a little terrifying when he’s angry.”

“Can do.” Claire nodded, slipping in past Ben to get exploring.

Dean’s room, as it turned out, was nothing like she was expecting. From the brief conversations she’d had with Dean, she was expecting it to be plain and boring. It was anything but. First were the wood carvings on the walls, panels stretched out as if they told a story. Scratchy beneath her fingers, Claire ran her fingers along the grooves as she took in the story of a lost traveler meeting a stranger along a tree lined road. The lone traveler came across a beautiful maiden with a sly smile in the first panel and as the panels progressed, the stranger fell prey to her smile and her wit. It ended suddenly as the woman led the stranger into a ring of mushrooms, the final panel nothing but an empty fairy ring.

“Your dad really likes monsters.” Jack said as they paused by the bookshelf in Dean’s room, picking up a miniature. They didn’t recognize the monster but it had horns and a tail so obviously it was some kind of fantastical being.

Ben shrugged his shoulders before making a beeline to rifle through Dean’s dresser. “Those are his dnd minis. He used to play a lot with his best friend before she moved down here but that was like ten years ago. She’s apparently super cool but I don’t really remember her.”

“Maybe he’ll invite her over for dinner to catch up and you’ll get to meet her.” Claire said, turning her attention to the corner of the room Ben and Jack weren’t paying attention to. There was a guitar in the corner, the finish chipped and faded as if it had been around for years. Sheet music and notebooks lay scattered around it and Claire crouched down to get a better look, snickering when she saw the song title.

“Wonderwall, seriously?”

“He likes the song.” Ben shrugged, gingerly folding the clothing he’d pulled from the doors. “He’s not very good with the guitar but he’s getting better. I think he practiced when I was at volleyball practice back in Lawrence.”

“Guitar seems a little boring. Claire wants to learn the trumpet, she thinks that that’s cooler and that it’ll cause chaos if she learns annoying songs. I like the flute, that’s what I play in band.”

“You’re in band?”

Jack nodded their head, crouching down to look at another shelf. “Yeah! It’s pretty fun, everyone’s kind of weird but pretty nice. We’re actually going to Chicago this year for the band trip and I think it’s gonna be super fun. Like we get to see the orchestra and everything.”

“See I tried band in freshman year but I think the clarinet had it out for me. I was so bad I had to do my first test in like three separate parts just to get a bare minimum pass. So now I do sports, well sports and science.”

“You’ve got that covered, Jack’s got the music and English covered, and I’ve got the arts covered.” Claire said, meandering over to the closet. “Kaia’s got the math bit covered, sports too. Watching her wrestle is actually really cool, she’s like really strong.”

Jack rolled their eyes as if they knew something Claire didn’t before shuffling to a chest to rummage through that. They’d heard more than his fair share of Claire gushing about Kaia but knew better than to steer her away from the topic. That usually resulted in them getting a hard punch to the arm or a gentle shove.

“She was pretty good at volleyball at the beach, I’ll give her that.” Ben said, making his way to the closet.

The search had been unsuccessful so far, the last 45 minutes completely fruitless. There was nothing in the drawers or the chest or the bookshelf that was abnormal or scandalous. On the plus side, the anxiety fluttering in Ben’s stomach was lessening with each passing minute. Maybe Dean didn’t have anything to hide after all. It was only when Ben stood on his tiptoes to root around the back of Dean’s closet that he noticed something. His fingers brushed something firm and dusty and he raised an eyebrow, straining to pull whatever it was from the back.

“You find something?” Claire asked, making her way to the closet to try and get a peek.

Ben’s hand closed around a box and he pulled it out, catching it with both hands. It was larger than he’d expected, the box a shoebox for a pair of steel toed boots Dean had worn at work for the past three or four years. Dust coated the top of the box and his fingertips, flying off when he blew across the top.

“I think so? It’s way too light to still have boots in it. Also it was like way in the back of the closet and I’m like 90% sure that that’s what he does when he wants to hide stuff. At least that’s what he did when he was trying to hide the Christmas presents when I was growing up.”

“Our dad did the same thing.” Jack said as they sat down on the bed, planning on just watching the unboxing happen. As far as they were concerned, as long as they weren’t touching anything then they weren’t doing anything sketchy and deserved none of the ire if they were caught.

“Are you ready to open the box?” Claire asked, excitement tinging her voice. She was more than ready to see what Dean was hiding, curious about what demons he’d locked up in the shoebox.

Ben’s anxiety had returned in full force, heart beating in his throat the longer he stared at the top of the box. Dean had hidden it for a reason and while he wanted answers, he didn’t know what they would bring. Would the answers make him upset or would they just raise more questions? Either way it felt a little bit like talking a long walk off a short pier.

“I uh, I don’t know.” He admitted, sitting on the bed with his eyes trained on the box. “I want answers cuz I know he’s hiding something but I don’t want them at the same time. Like if they’re really bad then I don’t want to know. Also he’s gonna be pissed if he sees I’ve fucked around in here and I really don’t want that.”

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” Claire said. “We’re not gonna force you to do it, that’s not cool. But I’d want answers if I were you, especially with how sketch he’s been about your mom your entire life. Like I’d be snooping if our dad wasn’t so open with us about everything when we’ve got questions.”

“There’s no way your dad tells you everything.”

“On God he tells us everything.”

Jack nodded in agreement. Cas was nothing if not open.

“Fuck it, let’s do it.”

Try as he might, Ben couldn’t bring himself to pull the lid off of the shoebox so Claire stepped in and pulled it. Setting it aside, the contents of the box were finally revealed. There were several stacks of photos held together with rubber bands, an assortment of jewelry nestled among the stacks, and what looked like a large waterlogged journal sitting on top of everything. The box was chock full of trinkets and baubles.

“There’s a lot of stuff in here.” Claire said to no one in particular before she reached into the box, snagging a stack of photos that had necklace tucked under the rubber band. The necklace was ugly, a burnished amulet of a man’s face with demonic horns strung on a cord fraying at the ends. She pulled the rubber band off and divided the stack into three, handing a third to Ben and Jack.

“The necklace is kind of freaky, not sure why your dad would have something like that.” Jack said, flipping through the photos. “Also, I don’t really know what we’re looking for so can someone tell me.”

“Photos of my dad with a woman who has long brown hair and brown eyes. I don’t really know what else to look for. It’s not like he gave me a name or anything.”

Jack nodded and turned back to the photos, all three kids sifting through them in an uncomfortable silence. Claire was the first to find something and she paused before setting the photo down in between the three of them. Dean was in the photo but he didn’t look that old, eighteen at best, but that wasn’t what had caught her eye. What Claire’s attention was the other boy in the photo. He was fourteen at most and had shaggy hair that covered his eyes but it was the necklace around his neck that she noticed, the same necklace that sat on top of the grey striped comforter.

“I think the necklace belonged to this dude.” Claire said as she showed Ben and Jack the photo. Turning it over proved to be useful as there was writing on the other side telling her who was in the photo. “Back says his name is Sam.”

Ben frowned, taking the photo to get a better look at it. He recognized Dean but didn’t recognize Sam by his appearance. The name, however, he knew. “That’s my uncle, I think. Dad’s got a brother but I don’t really know him.”

“Not close with your family?” Jack asked.

“Close with my grandma but not my uncle. I don’t really know what happened but I think they stopped talking at some point. He lives out in like Cali or something now last I heard.”

“So Sam Winchester in Cali.” Claire repeated, reaching into her pocket to pull out her phone. If there was one thing she was good at as a teenage girl who’d grown up with the interest and very little parental supervision, it was finding someone. She began with a google search which, while entertaining, didn’t yield very man results. When that didn’t work, she switched to Facebook. Sam seemed like he’d be old enough to use the platform unironically

By then Ben had finished sorting through his stack of photos and was watching Claire scroll through facebook, curious to see what she was doing. He vaguely recognized the platform but didn’t know anything beyond that. She scrolled for a few minutes before she was typing in a name and then scrolling some more, neutral expression lighting up with devious glee akin to the Grinch.

“I think I found him.” She grinned, turning the screen so Ben could get a look. “Says he’s a lawyer in Cali, graduated from Stanford. Oh he’s married too, sorta recently judging by the pictures. He’s kinda tall looking, didn’t think your dad was that tall.”

“I didn’t know he was married.”

“Says her name is Jessica, looks like she’s a nurse or something. Don’t see any kids so no cousins I guess. You wanna reach out to him, see if he wants to chat?”

“And have my dad kill me? Hell no.”

“Yeah, it’s more fun if you’re not dead.” Claire said, playfully hitting Ben’s arm before returning to the photos to rummage through them. With her focus on the photos in front of her Claire missed the flush of Ben’s cheeks and Jack’s suspicious expression.

More silence passed as ben rifled through the photos, really taking his time to examine them. There were several of him as a child, one of which was him in a dinosaur costume around Halloween, and several of Dean throughout the years. Ben had never seen photos of Dean as a child and he was struck by how similar he and his father looked. Of course they would look similar given their relation but it was the way Dean smiled in the photos as a child that was all too similar. Somewhere around the hour and a half mark into snooping through the photos, Jack broke the silence.

“I think I might’ve found something.”

Claire and Ben leaned in to take a look at the photo, Ben’s heart racing. It was a candid photo taken somewhere at night, a bright streetlamp the only source of light in the photo. There was a woman in the photo, body turned away from the camera as she looked back at it. Ben knew the smile, even if he didn’t know the woman, the vague sense of familiarity stirring within him.

“Well does the back say anything?” Claire asked impatiently.

Jack turned the photograph over, expecting to find it blank. What they found instead was a first name scrawled in chicken scratch: Lisa.

“I know that smile, I think.” Ben said, turning away from the photo to rifle through the remaining ones. “I think that’s her, I know it’s the same woman from the other photo that I saw. Maybe there’s more in here.”

The Novak’s nodded their heads and returned to their piles, filtering through the photos with more of an urgency. It wasn’t frantic but it was persistent and Ben could feel the photos sliding between his fingers the further in he dug. There was direct proof that his mother existed, that she wasn’t just some figment of his imagination and a ghost of Dean’s, and he needed to find it. The silence dragged on and on until suddenly, finally, it stopped.

Ben stared at the photograph in his hands, eyes burning holes through the film. Dean was there, the same eighteen year old he had been in most of the pictures they had gone through. He still had that stupid earring and the grin on his face matched it. But he wasn’t staring at Dean, not really. Lisa was in the photo, it had to be her, and it was the first time he’d really gotten a good look at her face.

She had a slim face and her glimmering brown eyes stared at the camera with a joyous expression. There was a small smattering of freckles on her face, similar to Dean’s, and similar to the ones Ben was subconsciously running his fingers over on his own face. She seemed happy in the photo as she leaned into Dean’s arm slung around her shoulder.

“Ben, you good?” Claire asked, concern in her voice as she leaned over his shoulder.

Her words fell on deaf ears as Ben stared at the third person in the photo.

There was a baby nestled in Lisa’s arms, swaddled in a blue blanket. He didn’t have to search for a name to know exactly who that baby was.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Claire asked again, putting a hand on Ben’s shoulder. The silence was uncomfortable now and the shaking of Ben’s hands worried her. Nothing good ever came from shaking hands.

Ben jumped when he felt her hand, fingers tightening around the photo and bending the corners. “Nothing, it’s fine.”

“Bullshit.”

“Claire, you can’t just say that. Have a little respect for his feelings.” Jack mumbled.

“I’m not mad at her, it’s fine.” Ben said, as he turned the photo over, almost afraid of what might be there. “I don’t wanna look at the back of this, I don’t know if I can handle seeing a name. Can one of you look?”

“You don’t have to look if you don’t want to. We can put all of this stuff away and just pretend it didn’t happen. Might be better if we did that.” Jack suggested. Trying to be helpful was in their nature and they’d been ignoring their anxiety at the whole situation all morning.

“Or he could let me read it out and get the answers that his dad hasn’t been giving him and probably won’t give him.” Claire replied. “Dad tells us everything so there’s no way we actually know how he feels about this. Besides, you have to be curious about this too.”

“I’m not curious, fyi. I kind of like Ben and I really don’t want you and your having to always be in everyone else’s business to scare him off. You know I don’t exactly have a ton of friends. Awkwardness with the neighbour might also make everything shitty.”

“Just read it.” Ben mumbled, eyes cast down to the bed. “Please.”

Claire nodded her head and scooted closer to Ben, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. While she wasn’t the most affectionate, he seemed like he needed it. With a deep breath she read the writing on the back. “Dean Winchester, Lisa Braeden, and little Benjamin. October 11, 2009.”

“Braeden. That’s not what I was expecting.”

“It’s kinda cool though, not gonna lie.” Claire said, pulling Ben closer to her. “You’ve kind of got an answer. What do you wanna do with it?”

“Claire, he’s not gonna know what he wants to do. He literally just found out his mom’s full name. Give him a minute.”

“I don’t even know what my options are.” Ben admitted as he leaned against Claire. Having the physical comfort was helping, even if he didn’t want to admit it. He couldn’t explain how he was feeling about everything that was happening. His stomach was in knots, his throat suddenly dry, and then there was the odd tightness in his chest. Had he not known better, Ben would’ve guessed he was having a heart attack.

“You can do nothing with what you’ve learned, like Jack said. You can pretend like you know nothing and just go back to faking ignorance in front of your dad but that doesn’t like a great idea. If you want to cause chaos you could straight up confront him about your mom and use the photo as evidence. Of course he could just shut down and it could get messy but it’s better than nothing.”

“Is there a third option that doesn’t destroy my entire life?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ve got her full name and know what she looks like so if you want, and only if you want, I can try to see what happened to her. I found your uncle so I doubt it’ll be hard to find her if she’s alive and on social media. Might be less good if she’s not alive but she’d probably have an obit online that I could find.”

Ben nodded his head, staring back at the photo as another memory played through his head.

“Hey dad, are you home?” Ben called as he shut the front door behind him.

“In the kitchen!”

Kicking off his shoes and dropping his backpack in the entryway, Ben made his way to the kitchen. It was rare for Dean to be in the kitchen so early in the day unless he was cooking a big meal and even then, he rarely cooked those. He couldn’t smell anything crazy do Ben knew Dean hadn’t cooked and that only heightened his curiosity.

The kitchen table was covered in Chinese takeout when Ben stepped inside, the telltale white boxes open and spread out with two pairs of chopsticks and a cake smack dab in the middle of the table. Ben knew without even looking that the cake had salted caramel in the middle and when he did look, he found the telltale happy birthday message he had been expecting.

“I thought you said we couldn’t do takeout this year.”

“Found some extra money and it’s your birthday, you deserve it.” Dean replied, gesturing to the empty chairs. “Let’s eat and then I can give you your present.”

The pair ate and talked as they did so, Ben telling Dean all about his day at school and the things that he got do. In turn Dean told Ben about his day at work and while it wasn’t the most exciting, Ben seemed happy enough to listen. This was a typical ritual for the Winchesters and Ben loved it, especially when the cartoons on the couch came after dinner. Tonight was no exception and soon he and Dean were sat on the couch in front of the tv as old reruns of Spiderman played in front of them.

Dean handed Ben his birthday present as they sat on the couch, a soft smile as he watched Ben’s eyes light up. Money had been tight that year, tighter than usual, but Dean had managed to find exactly what Ben had wanted. It was a stroke of pure luck resulting from a road detour that led Dean to antique mall with a woman who was willing to haggle on the item in question.

“No way!! Where did you find this?!” Ben asked, practically shaking with excitement as he tore off the wrapping paper to reveal the vintage Garfield lamp safely wrapped in bubble wrap inside. Once the lamp had been set aside, Ben turned and threw his arms around Dean in a tight hug. “I love it!”

Dean hugged back, pleasantly surprised that his twelve year old was willingly hugging him. “I’m really glad you like it.”

“Of course I do.” Ben said. He could tell Dean was in a good mood and decided to press his luck, unsure if he’d ever have another chance to push it. “Can I ask you a question?”

Dean raised an eyebrow, shifting on the couch to face Ben. “You usually just ask, so why ask about asking?”

“Cuz it’s my birthday and it’s a really specific question and I wanna make sure that I can actually ask it. I wanna use my honesty question pass.”

“I gave that to you when you were seven, how do you still remember that?”

Ben shrugged. Little butterflies of anxiety were beginning to flutter in his stomach but he ignored them, instead rubbing his hands together.

“You can ask your question, you caught me on a good day.”

There was a moment of silence where Ben tried to muster all of the courage he could before he spoke, voice unusually timid. “I want to know about mom. And no, before you start going on and being all mysterious about her, I want to be clear. I want the truth about mom. I want to know if she’s alive or dead and why she’s not here.”

Dean’s expression soured, blood draining from his face and brows furrowing. It looked as if he had sucked on a lemon and try as he might, he couldn’t find the words to speak. What ensued was several minutes of silence in which he tried to think of any answer except the truth. At some point he sat on his hands to stop them from trembling and it seemed to move into his voice when he did speak.

“Why do you want to know?” He asked, voice tinged with emotion.

“Because I deserve to know. Because all of my friends have moms and dads and they know what happened to them. Answer my question dad.”

Dean swallowed thickly, trying to blink back the burning in his eyes. He’d known the question was coming for years but it was one thing to expect in it theory and another to hear it in the real world. Ben wanted the truth and it would be easy enough to give it to him, to tell him that his mother didn’t want him and that she’d left them; but Dean couldn’t do that, not to Ben. He couldn’t bear the thought of ruining Ben’s birthday by burdening bim with that revelation. Lying to him seemed like a safer option, telling him that his mom was dead and not available at all. But that lie meant Ben might have questions about her obituary or want to see her headstone and the fallout of that lie being revealed was catastrophic.

“I don’t think today is the best day to be doing this, Ben. I really don’t want to ruin your birthday over something like this.” Dean sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Can we please just do this another day?”

“No, we are not just doing this another day because that’s what you always say and then it gets brushed off and then I never get answers. I’m not taking no for answer.”

“I’m not talking about this today.” Dean said firmly, jaw clenched. “I am not ruining your birthday over something like your mother. We can talk about this tomorrow.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Ben swore, leaping up from the couch. “It’s always alter and later and then it turns into never. Grandma won’t talk about mom either and I’m sick of it. I almost an assignment because of this, you know.”

“What?”

“Yeah, Mr. Henrickson almost failed me on the family tree because I don’t know anything about mom’s side of the family. He told me I could have one more day to find out and do the assignment or take the failing grade. So kind of important you tell me what’s going on.”

The pit in Dean’s stomach practically swallowed him whole, his limb tingling as if he were falling through the floor. Of course Ben’s teacher was being a dick and of course it had to do with the explosive secret Dean had been sitting on for the past twelve years. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, Dean chose to wedge himself in further.

“I’ll speak to him about the assignment. He can’t fail you because of something like that, it’s unethical and just not right. But I am not answering your question. Honesty pass or not, this is not a problem for tonight.”

“Why are you always such an asshole about this!”

Try as he might to contain himself, Dean slipped and fell off of the cliff of self-control. He was out of his body, watching himself through a haze as if he didn’t know what he was doing. There he was, hands gesturing wildly and voice raised as he yelled at his son. He didn’t want to yell at Ben, and judging from Ben’s reaction, he didn’t want to be yelled at, but Dean couldn’t help it. It was too much, too overwhelming.

He yelled at Ben for asking the question and ruining his birthday, yelled at him for pushing and pushing when it was clear there was no need to push. The final straw came when Dean heard himself tell Ben that if his mother was around she would be disappointed in him for being such a brat about this.

Ben retreated to his room after that and Dean sunk into the couch, defeated.

“I want the third option.” Ben said, breaking the silence.

“You sure you want me investigating her?”

Ben nodded his head before he could change his mind. This was the best outcome, even if it meant waiting and bad news.

“I promise I’ll make it a priority.” Claire said as she pulled her arm away from Ben and slid off the bed. She felt bad for him and it was easy enough to see from his expression that he was struggling with what they’d found so far. “Hey, I think we should call it quits for today. This is a lot and you’re probably pretty overwhelmed.”

Ben glanced up at Claire, momentary anxiety flickering in his eyes. He didn’t want the Novaks to leave, their company kept the impending doom at bay, but the memory of Dean lashing out was occupying his mind still. It still hurt almost four years later and it was entirely too possible that Dean would lash out again if he asked now. But the Novaks were willing to help and that meant he would get answers.

“Thanks for helping today. It means a lot.”

Jack shrugged their shoulders as if to say it was no big deal before taking their leave, wandering out of the room and presumably back downstairs. Claire lingered for a moment, hands shoved in her pockets as she looked at Ben. “Are you gonna be okay?”

“Gonna have to be if I want to keep my dad in the dark.”

“Fair point. Look, I’ll spend some time searching today and I’ll let you know if I find anything. Actually I’ll let you know as soon as I find anything. And I’m next door too so don’t be afraid to come over and visit. I’ve got a pretty cool room.”

“Good to know.” Ben said, offering her a small unconvincing smile as he watched her leave.

When he was finally alone, Ben sat in the silence and didn’t move. The thoughts racing in his mind finally took over and he let, washing away in the deluge. He was getting an answer and regardless of what it would be, it would be something and that was what he really needed. It was only when he heard the creak of the garage door that he snapped back into reality, panic spiking in his chest when he realized Dean was back from work.

“Fuck.” He swore under his breath, springing into action. Ben swept up the photos scattered on the bed and shoved them in the box, hurriedly trying to find the lid. In his state of panic he turned too quickly and knocked the box with his elbow, sending it hurtling towards the floor. He dropped to his knees and scrambled to collect the scattered photos, pulling his hand back when it brushed across something sharp. He panicked but turned away, managing to put the box back into the corner of Dean’s closet before daring to take a look at what had fallen from the box. He’d have just enough time to grab whatever it was and run out of Dean’s room without being caught. It wasn’t until he’d picked it up and made it safely to the confines of his room that Ben took a good look at what he’d stumbled upon.

Staring up at him from his outstretched hand was a diamond ring.

Chapter Text

The Winchesters had been in Paradise Hills for a few months and Dean had developed a comfortable routine at this point, the kind of routine he didn’t want to deviate from.

Monday through Friday he was awake at 6, drinking coffee at quarter after, finishing his breakfast by half past, and off to work at 7. It was the half hour between 6:30 and 7 that Dean liked the most. Every morning without fail, Dean would wander out to his backyard and lean over the fence to have a chat with Cas who was always in the garden.

“You ever do anything other than pick vegetables in the morning?” Dean chuckled as he took up his usual residence leaning over the fence, eyes watching as Cas knelt and scrounged around in the dirt.

Cas turned on his feet, still crouched as he glanced up at Dean with a handful of kale. “You do anything other than watch me pick vegetables?”

“What can I say, I like to watch.”

“Kinky.”

Still unused to Cas’ antics, Dean flushed red again. Maybe in a few more months he’d actually be used to it. Either way, Cas had quickly become someone he enjoyed speaking to. The man was quirky, the kind of off-putting that came across as more charming and less like he was writing a secret manifesto.

“Anyways, are you ever gonna share the vegetables you’re farming?” Dean asked, brushing past the awkwardness. “Not that I’m good at cooking but still, they look nice.”

Cas set the kale in the basket next to his feet before rising to his full height, brushing the dirt off of his pants. “Tell you what, if I’ve got anything left over after I bring them to work I’ll hand ‘em over.”

“You grow veggies for work?”

“Sure do. Same thing with the honey. We’ve got partnerships with a lot of local farmers and other businesses too, it’s kind of a large enterprise.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, intrigued. He’d never really asked Cas what he did for work so hearing that it involved his gardening hobbies was interesting. So was the mention of local partnerships. Truth be told, Dean wasn’t sure what job he would’ve pegged Cas as having anyway. He wasn’t burly enough for a trade, certainly wasn’t friendly enough to work in customer service, and didn’t seem like he had the narcissism or complete lack of personality to work in tech or finance.

“What exactly do you do for work?”

“See I could tell you but that ruins the air of mystery I’d like to keep around myself. I’ve got to keep something mysterious to keep up our morning chats. But it’s almost 7 so you should probably get to work All those cabinets are just waiting for you to sand and carve them.”

Dean checked his watch and when he realized Cas was right, he offered him a quick goodbye and then headed off for the day. Cas watched Dean go with a smile of mild bemusement before returning to his vegetables, planning to pick the rest of them before he head to head off to work as well.

Ben too had developed another routine, though it was being thrown off by the diamond ring currently burning a hole in the pocket of his jeans. It had been nearly a week since he’d found the ring and his questions had only grown since then, fueled by the complete lack of answers Claire had found so far. He’d decided to take matters into his own hands so it came as no surprise to him when there was a knock at the door at 9.

Mary was on the other side and she smiled warmly at Ben, holding her arms out for a hug. She hugged Ben when he stepped closer but pulled away before too long, arms falling to her sides. “It’s about time you and your father invited me over. I was just about to storm the castle.”

“Dad’s been really busy at work so he hasn’t had a lot of time.” Ben shrugged, stepping aside so Mary could enter. “There’s coffee on the kitchen table for you already.”

“I figured he’d be busy. Your father’s got a single-minded nature when it comes to work, always has.”

“He’s got a single mind about a lot of things.” Ben muttered under his breath, sitting at the kitchen table.

Mary paused, interest piqued. Ben didn’t typically mutter under his breath and he certainly didn’t mutter when it concerned his father either. Something was up. “Sounds like something’s on your mind. What’s wrong?”

“Do you swear this stays just between us?”

“Of course it will.”

Ben waited for a moment before he shoved his hand in his pocket, fishing for something. There was a clatter in the kitchen as he dropped it onto the table, making direct eye contact with Mary. The blood drained from her face as she stared at the ring and her grandson.

“Where’d you find that?” she asked, hoping she came across as more curious than shocked. “Doesn’t seem like something you or your father would own.”

Ben’s eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms over his chest, defensive. “Gee I don’t know, maybe in the sketchy shoebox that has photos of him and my mom.”

“Does he know you went through his things?”

“Would I be allowed to have my phone, any privileges, or the chance to have you over if he did?”

Mary sighed, scrubbing a hand over her face. “I’m assuming this is the part of the meeting where you try to get answers from me instead of your father because you think I’m more likely to give them to you than he is.”

“Are you going to give me answers?”

“It’s not my place.”

Ben’s eye twitched, the frustration in his stomach beginning to heat into anger. He’d known that Mary wasn’t going to be any help but part of him, a part buried deep down, had wanted her to. All he needed was a confirmation to get rid of the curiosity and a simple yes or no wasn’t that hard to say. He took the ring and shoved it back in his pocket, trying not to let the frustration overwhelm him.

“I know what she looked like and I know what her full name is. All I’m saying is that I’m getting answers even if you and dad aren’t willing to help me. I’m almost 16, I deserve answers at this point. I can handle it if she’s dead.”

“She’s dead.”

Ben was too stunned to speak, any frustration he had sucked out like the air in his lungs. The admission was sudden and brutal and he still couldn’t wrap his head around the two words he’d heard his grandmother speak. She’d told him no answers but then she’d told him that and the entire thing felt entirely too hazy to be correct. Not that he would know if it was correct anyway, his dad had made sure of that. Luckily, or unluckily, Mary continued to speak.

“She passed shortly after you were born, it was sudden and unexpected. It hit your father hard, we almost lost him too. So you can understand why he doesn’t particularly want to talk about it.”

“He could’ve told me, he didn’t have to hide it. It wasn’t his fault.” Ben mumbled, tone defeated and posture deflated. “What about the ring, did he ever get to use it?”

“No, he didn’t.” Mary said simply. “You need to understand that losing someone you care about that deeply is devastating and it’s twofold for your father. He was 4 when your grandpa died and that was hard on all of us. He had to step up and do things he never should’ve as a child because I couldn’t do it. Your dad never wanted you to experience the grief of losing someone so I suppose this has been his way of protecting you.”

“Trying to protect me isn’t an excuse for lying for as long as he has. I get it but still, I could’ve handled it way before now.”

“I don’t know why your father does what he does but he did it because he loves you.” Mary said, glancing just past Ben. It was too hard to look him in the eyes. “I can’t tell you what to do with this information but you know it now.”

“Will he flip out if I ask him about this?”

Mary shrugged. “I don’t know kiddo. Only time will tell.”

Ben nodded his head, sitting in silence with the information. He didn’t speak for a while and was only half conscious when Mary said she had to get going, giving her a half-hearted hug before she left. His coffee was cold when he finished the last dredges of it and he debated making more before deciding against it. What he did do, however, was return the ring to the shoebox in Dean’s closet. He didn’t want it burning a hole in his pocket when the information was already beginning to burn a hole in his mind.

Ben thought about going to see Claire to ask her to stop looking for Lisa but something in the back of his mind stopped him from doing it. Her independent research would be unbiased confirmation of what he suspected was true. The house was oppressive now though and Ben decided he wanted to get out of it for a while so he grabbed the house key and headed out.

Paradise Hills was nothing like Lawrence and the more Ben wandered, the more obvious it was. It lacked the high rise apartment buildings and the convenience stores on every corner and that didn’t even touch on the lack of vehicles on the roads. Even the people who walked down the sidewalk seemed calmer somehow, their faces softer and their gait more relaxed. Ben wished it was calming but it wasn’t. The longer he wandered the main street in town, the more his mind kept drifting back to his dad and to the chaos in his life.

All the drama with his mother aside, Ben found himself focusing on Claire. They’d been friends for almost three months at this point and he couldn’t deny what he knew was happening deep down. He liked her, liked her in a way that made his stomach flip and his heart beat out of sync in his chest. There was something about the way she was, her dry sense of humour and`unapologetic directness, which he really admired. Her blonde hair was a nice bonus too. Part of him thought about asking Dean for advice but that seemed like a step too far for the time being.

Ben stopped in front of a shop when the display in the window caught his eye. Books and crystals aside, he could see one of his neighbours through the window and knew it was a perfect opportunity to get to know her better without his dad around. It was only when he turned to reach for the door that he heard something unexpected. The sound was quiet at first but it kept repeating and Ben, curious, followed it.

“This feels like the beginning of a horror movie.” He mumbled to himself as he turned down a dark alleyway, head cocked to the side as he listened for the sound again. It grew louder as he shuffled deeper into the alley, silent for a few seconds before there was a metallic thud. Ben made his way toward the dumpster. Heart pattering away in his chest. It was probably just a raccoon.

What stared back at Ben through the piles of garbage bags and rotting leaking food scraps wasn’t a raccoon at all. Eyes bugged from its head and the colourful fur stuck out wildly in the places that weren’t soaked in oil and grime. The creature, which Ben assumed was some kind of cat or kitten, mewed in distress as it tried to claw its way out from under a heavy bag of garbage. Ben thought about turning and pretending he hadn’t seen the animal but he couldn’t bring himself to do something so needlessly cruel.

Instead, Ben grabbed the edge of the dumpster and pulled himself up onto the ledge before hopping down. Rotten garbage squelched beneath his shoes and he cringed for a moment before turning back to the cat which looked a lot smaller than it had before. He pulled up the bag trapping the cat and prayed that the animal wouldn’t try to attack him as he reached for it. Luckily the cat, which was really more of a kitten, only mewed in response to being picked up. Noise aside, the squirming was manageable, and Ben was thankful for that small mercy as he climbed out of the dumpster.

“There’s no way you could’ve climbed into that dumpster. Someone must’ve dumped you.” He mumbled to himself, wrapping the kitten in the sweater he’d brought along just in case. Originally he’d meant to pop into the shop to say hi to the neighbour but he was preoccupied with the kitten and wanted to get it cleaned up before Dean got home from work. Dean would be less likely to be upset if the kitten looked presentable.

Ben left his shoes outside so he didn’t carry the garbage stench in before he headed inside, making a beeline to the kitchen sink to try and figure out how to clean the cat. He knew there wasn’t any shampoo that would work so he settled for what he had on hand, dawn dish soap, and just told himself he’d be extra careful with the kitten. Filling the sink with warm water and a little bit of soap, Ben gingerly set the kitten in and prepared for the clawing and biting to begin; but it never did. With water up to its middle, the kitten stared up at Ben and then at the bubbles in curiosity before swatting at the bubbles.

“Weird that you’re not trying to kill me.” He laughed to himself, picking up the kitten to gently scrub away all of the grit and grime. As he cleaned the kitten, Ben was finally able to get a good look at it. It had a smattering of colours, the most prominent of which were an orange patch covering its face and a dark path covering one of its legs, and incredibly long ears. Blue eyes stared back at Ben as it squirmed in his hands, mewing and trying to escape.

“Okay okay, no more bath time.”

The kitten let Ben wrap it in a towel to dry off, seemingly content to be wrapped in a burrito. It seemed remarkably calm as it looked around before settling down, finally clean and free from the dumpster. Ben stared at it as he tried to figure out next steps. Option one was to keep the cat and argue with Dean about it and while the prospect of having a cat did seem fun, the prospect of having to argue with his dad seemed a lot less fun. Especially after his conversation with Mary that morning. Option two was to give the cat to a neighbour or the humane society and while they would have the resources to care for it, Ben didn’t like that option. The kitten was cute and quickly growing on him.

Ben was just about ready to turn on the tv and see if anything good was on when he heard the front door and the telltale clomp of Dean’s steel toe boots. He turned his head in time to see Dean hovering in the entryway.

“Any reason why your shoes are on the porch?” He asked, dropping his workbag next to the shoe rack.

“Got ‘em dirty, was gonna hose 'em down and clean ‘em off.”

“You go for a walk or something today then?”

“Yeah, thought it would be something to do.”

Dean, seemingly satisfied with that answer, made his way into the kitchen to empty his lunch pail and make his usual post work coffee. It was only when he had the cup of coffee in his hand that he noticed the bundle of towel on the couch next to Ben, eyebrow shooting up in suspicion. “What’s with the towel?”

“You remember my 11^th birthday?” Ben asked, side-eying the towel nervously.

“I swear to God I will send you to live with your grandmother if there’s another baby raccoon in there.”

Ben grinned before grabbing the towel and peeling the top layer back to reveal the kitten. “Guess I’m still living here.”

“This is going to be the part where I say absolutely not to keeping that because I’m allergic and then you reply with some kind of actual logic that guilt trips me into letting you keep it, isn’t it?”

“Just say yes and we can avoid all of that.”

Dean sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Where’d you find that thing anyway?”

“In a dumpster by Rowena’s shop. I think someone dumped it cuz there’s no way it could’ve climbed up and crawled in on its own.”

“If I let you keep it, do you promise you’re going to be responsible and take care of it? Because, and let me make this clear, I don’t like cats and I don’t want a cat. This will be entirely your cat which means you’re responsible for everything, including the vet bills.”

“Are you actually letting me keep the kitten?”

“When you say shit like that with so much surprise it makes me look like I’m a horrible no fun father.” Dean mumbled, exasperated but not offended. “Yes, you can keep the cat if you take care of it. Call it an early birthday present by like 3 months.”

“Is it really a birthday present if I had to find it myself?”

“Sometimes I wonder why I had a kid.” Dean mumbled under his breath. “Anyway, I’m making dinner. We can go get stuff for the kitten after if you want.”

~

Try as he might, Dean couldn’t sleep.

Ben had passed out three hours ago with the kitten, which he had decided to name Spork after a particularly amusing incident during dinner involving food on the floor and an entire drawer of utensils, and Dean had tried to sleep as well. He hadn’t been successful as evidenced by his presence in the kitchen at midnight with a cup of chamomile tea and a half eaten apple.

The light of his phone screen illuminated his face as he stared at the text Mary had sent him some time during the day.

You need to tell him about Lisa.

Something had happened between Mary and Ben, something big enough that she had felt the need to be direct with Dean but he had no idea what it was. She wouldn’t have told Ben anything and Ben hadn’t asked. He hadn’t snooped either, the shoebox was still in the same place it had been when he’d finishing setting up his room.

It was probably time to sit down and tell him what had happened but the prospect filled Dean with enough dread that he was planning to put it off for as long as possible. What Dean did instead was slip into his shoes and head out for a walk. The air was warm but not too humid and the street was quiet, most of the neighbours asleep in their beds it seemed.

He thought as he walked, about Ben and Lisa and the million other things running through his head. Part of him wanted to text Charlie but he knew she’d be asleep and she still didn’t know that they’d moved into town and the last thing he wanted was an earful from her about communication.

Cas was another option but something about that felt wrong. He was too new of a friend and while Dean knew he’d be understanding, he also knew they hadn’t reached that echelon of trauma dumping yet. The last thing he wanted to do was alienate the next door neighbour whose kid Ben had a crush on. That was page three of the bad parenting handbook.

A sudden noise brought Dean back to reality and he jumped, his body reacting before his mind could clue in. Turning his head in the direction of the sound, Dean found a light shining through the half open curtains of one of his neighbours. He knew snooping was wrong but he was human and he was curious. It was just getting to know more about his neighbours, at least that’s what he told himself.

It was hard to see from a distance but Dean could make out a living room, a tall floor lamp in the corner and a dark coffee table in between two green couches. It wasn’t a feminine living room which completely ruled out Rowena and he knew it wasn’t Cas’ given how far he’d walked. Luckily, Dean didn’t have to wait long to find out as one of the neighbours walked into the living room.

He recognized Benny from stature alone, his solid frame blocking out much of the light filtering through the window. The thought that he should really go check out the bar Benny mentioned ran through his head but Dean brushed it off when he saw another man enter the living room: Lee. Of course they lived together, Dean knew that, and he had half a mind to get a roommate just to be able to afford the ridiculous mortgage on his own place. Those two had the right idea.

Dean watched as the pair of them sat together on the couch, eyebrow raising when Benny wrapped an arm around Lee. He’d seen it before, mostly with Charlie and all of her friends, and knew it was something women usually did. What threw him off though, aside from the fact that Benny and Lee were clearly just really good friends, was the way Lee leaned into it. Lisa used to lean in like that and it sent a pang of loneliness through him.

“I feel like I shouldn’t be watching this.” He mumbled to himself, planning on turning and leaving. There was movement before he turned his head and then Dean was watching something he hadn’t expected to see. It was a kiss, a simple kiss, but the unexpected nature of it surprised Dean. “Okay yeah, definitely leaving.”

As Dean turned on his heels to begin the walk back to his home, he found his mind with racing with thoughts of what he’d just seen. It was the last thing he’d expected from either of them, they’d seemed so… not into that. Wracking his brain for the signs he’d missed, Dean was embarrassed when he realized he’d seen how close they were at the barbecue. Of course there had been the mention of a partner but they’d been talking about the bar and not their actual lives. It wasn’t like it bothered him, he didn’t care what other people did with their lives, it just caught him off guard.

Dean was torn from his stupor when he heard a familiar voice, glancing across the street to meet Cas’ gaze.

“You’re up awfully late.” Cas chuckled, walking over with a basket full of produce in his arms. “Getting back from the bar?”

“Went for a walk, couldn’t sleep.” Dean shrugged. “Do I want to know why you’ve got a full basket of produce in your arms at midnight?”

“It’s cooler at night, means I don’t sweat my ass off trying to get everything.”

Dean made a noise of understanding, awkwardly standing next to Cas. He thought about turning and just going inside but something told him not to. Instead he decided to stay and chat. “I got a question for you. Did you know about Benny and Lee? About them being, you know…”

“Gay? Yeah, everyone does. You seem surprised by that.”

“I swear I’m not against it, I just didn’t-“

Cas interrupted. “You didn’t peg them for it. Between me and them and your word choice, I’m starting to suspect you’re a lot less vanilla than I assumed.”

“It’s not my fault you take that word and automatically assume it’s sexual. If anyone is the deviant here, clearly it’s you.” Dean replied, hoping he came across as bantery and teasing.

“I won’t deny that.” Cas shrugged. “This basket is kind of heavy. I’m gonna go put it down in the kitchen. Feel free to follow me in, you seem like you’re in a chatty mood and you’ve caught me in one.”

Dean followed Cas in without hesitation, kicking his shoes off in the entryway. He hadn’t seen the inside of Cas’ place and was curious about how it was laid out. The kitchen was almost exactly what he was expecting, a large space with rustic vibes. Running his fingers along the butcher block counter, Dean hummed in approval. “You’ve got a nice kitchen.”

“Probably should given how much I cook. Mind giving me a hand scrubbing and washing the veg?”

Dean nodded and took up his position at half of the large double sink, white scrubber in hand ready to clean what he was handed. “Hey, mind if I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“So, to make a long story short there’s a lot of drama surrounding my ex and why she’s not around or in my kid’s life and he’s been asking a lot lately about her. I know the right thing to do is to tell him but I’m worried about the fallout and I just really don’t know what to do. So what do I do? And I know this is probably a lot considering we’ve only known each other for like three months but I’ve got no other parent friends and not a clue what to do.”

“How bad was it?” Cas asked, stepping beside Dean to start scrubbing the summer squash.

“Completely destroyed my relationship with my brother and left me a shell of a person so my mom had to step in to help with Ben level of bad.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah. See I know he could probably handle it but I don’t know if I can. I just don’t want him to not speak to me, you know?”

Cas nodded his head, pausing to hand a squash to Dean. “I get it, I really do. It’s not easy sitting down your kid to explain why their other parent isn’t in their life but he’s what, almost sixteen? You have to rip the Band-Aid off and hope that it’s scabbed underneath.”

“Have you told your kids about your ex?”

Cas sucked air through his teeth, shoulders deflating ever so slightly. “That’s a bit complicated because this situation doesn’t actually involve an ex but yeah, I’ve told them. Told them when they were eleven because they asked.”

“How’d they take it?”

“Well it was rough for a little while but they came around and then it was fine. The reason you’re having such a hard time is because you’re framing this as an issue you have, not an issue your kid has.”

Dean turned slightly, confusion furrowing his brow. He gestured to Cas, silently asking him to elaborate.

“You see this as your problem that you’re burdening your kid with but that’s not how he sees it. He sees it as something he doesn’t know and understand but what’s to because it’s part of his life. He’s got this mom-shaped hole in his life and while telling him why she’s not around isn’t going to patch the hole, it’ll at least give him the knowledge and the tools to start processing and eventually even patch up the hole himself.”

“So basically I’m kind of being a selfish asshole and not even giving him the chance to process and move on.”

“You said the selfish asshole part, not me. Remembers that.” Cas chuckled, pointing at Dean with a stray vegetable. “Ultimately do what you’ve got to do but telling him is gonna be your best bet in my opinion.”

Dean sighed, resigning himself to the answer he had expected. He was going to tell Ben, just- not yet. Telling him would require a dedicated time to sit down to tear open the old wounds and Dean wasn’t quite ready to see himself bleed.

“Thanks for not judging.” He mumbled, setting the last of the vegetables down. “It’s kind of nice having a friend who’s a parent, feels less lonely.”

“I don’t judge so you’re safe with me. I don’t know how tired you are but I was planning on watching an episode of a show and wouldn’t mind the company.”

“Depends on the show. Are you secretly a love is blind fan? Because I get the appeal of reality tv but that not show, or any of the romance ones really.”

Cas laughed, a deep warm sound that surprised and intrigued Dean. “Yeah no, I don’t really do reality tv. I was thinking 9-1-1, it’s a firefighter show. Claire’s been really into it and I really feel like I need to understand all the references she keeps making. She keeps talking about a 'buddie' as if I'm supposed to already know what that is.”

“I swear to God they speak a completely different language than us. Ben starts going sometimes and I don’t know what in the hell he’s trying to say.” Dean admitted. He wiped his hands on his pants before following Cas out of the kitchen and to the living room. It was too dark to see much but the fabric couch cushions were firm and comfortable when he sat down.

“The references were completely fine but then Claire was going off about some kind of like alpha beta omega thing about some other show and honestly I was entirely too afraid to ask her what she was trying to say.”

“Isn’t that like a werewolf sex thing?”

Cas paused mid show selection, head cocked to the side as he stared at Dean. It was a surprised but amused stare, the piercing kind that had Dean suddenly sweating as if he were being scrutinized. The stare happened a lot with Cas. “And how the fuck would you know that it’s a werewolf sex thing?”

“My best friend has unusual taste.”

“Apparently.” Cas chuckled, turning away to put on the first episode.

The pair sat in comfortable silence as the first episode played, an entire cushion between them on the couch. Cas was amused by it and how unrealistic the entire premise was. It was entertaining enough to continue watching and even if he didn’t really like it, Claire did and he wanted to know why she did. Dean, on the other hand, was sucked in immediately. It wasn’t the firefighting that sucked him in, or the premise of the show, but rather one of the characters. He was impulsive and brash but Dean saw a younger version of himself and he wanted to see more.

After the third episode, Dean was yawning and shifted on the couch to look at Cas. “I think I’ve got to head out and get some sleep. Finally dead tired.”

“Thinking I should probably do the same.” Cas nodded, getting up from the couch. His shoulder popped as he stretched. “You into the show?”

“I am, actually. Would you maybe want to keep watching episodes together? We could do Friday nights, maybe switch who hosts?”

“You’ve got yourself a deal. See you later.”

“See you later. Thanks for the advice, I appreciate it.”

“Anytime.”

Dean offered Cas one final smile before he headed out and back home. His mind was still spinning with all of the events of the day but it had dulled into a persistent background noise, a bit like the buzz of fluorescent lights when you finally noticed them. It felt like time to tell Ben about his mom.

Dean drifted off to sleep with those thoughts in his mind.

Chapter Text

“Hey Dad, I think Spork learned a new trick!” Ben called as he stepped into the backyard, Spork trotting along behind him.

Spork, as it turned out, was smarter than Ben and Dean had anticipated. The kitten had been living with them for a week and true to his word, Dean had had nothing to do with it. What Dean had had to do, however, was install child locks on the lower cabinets so that Spork didn’t climb into them. The entire exercise made Dean nostalgic for Ben’s early years and the cabinet locks he’d had to install then as well.

Dean glanced up from the piece of wood he was staining. “What did he learn?”

“So he’s learned that when I crouch down it’s a sign to climb on my shoulders so he’s a shoulder cat now.” Ben explained as he crouched down. True to his word, Spork did his best to climb Ben’s sweater and perch on his shoulder like a fuzzy cat shaped parrot.

“Well that’s definitely different. Careful he doesn’t fall and break something.”

“That sounds like you care about him. Had a change of heart yeah?”

Dean shook his head, turning his attention back to the wood and bucket of stain. “I care about you and the cat makes you happy, still don’t actually like the cat himself.

“See you say that now but guarantee you’ll love him eventually.”

“Yeah yeah.” Dean shrugged. “Make sure you’re cleaned up for tonight, neighbours invited us over for dinner.”

“Which ones?”                      

“Garth and Bess. Pretty sure they want some advice on having kids if I’m remembering our barbecue conversation right. Got an invite from Benny and Lee but that’s a 21+ thing so sorry about that one kiddo.”

Ben shrugged in response, apologizing under his breath when Spork meowed in complaint. “What do you think about them? Benny and Lee I mean.”

“They seem decent, have pretty good opinions on beer which makes sense with the whole owning a bar thing. Wasn’t expecting them to be together together but maybe that was me just being clueless, I dunno.”

“When’d you figure that out?”

“A few nights ago.”

“Sick, Claire owes me 20 bucks.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, hands on his stained jeans in the typical disappointed parent manner. Ben seemed far too excited about that realization.

“I told Claire at the barbecue that it would take you at least 2 months to figure out that Benny and Lee were together and she didn’t believe me, said no way you were that oblivious. Obviously I know you so we made a bet: if you found out before 2 months I’d owe her 20 and if it was after two months then she’d owe me 20.”

“Well I really don’t love that you’re betting on me realizing things about other people.”

“Be less oblivious then.” Ben replied before turning around and heading back inside, leaving Dean to his devices.

Dean popped back inside sometime around 3 and made a beeline for the shower, hoping to clean the stain off of his hands and the grease from his fingers. The shower, while the water pressure left something to desire, was more than hot enough to loosen the kink that had started in his shoulders. It was entirely work’s fault and he knew he needed to make it ergonomic in some capacity. Well as ergonomic as carpentry could be anyhow.

With clean clothes on, Dean made his way into the kitchen and began to rummage through the fridge and cabinets. He’d just finished pulling out the butter when he heard Ben’s feet on the tile in the kitchen. Dean turned, setting the butter down. “I’m making cookies to bring tonight, you want to help?”

“I’ll sit and watch to make sure you don’t poison the neighbours but I don’t really want to help.” Ben said, taking a seat at the kitchen table. Spork was next to him on the floor, toying with a stray sock.

Dean sighed in acceptance before he began the cookies. He made it a few minutes in silence before he decided to talk to Ben. “So, you looking forward to school starting soon?”

“Not really.”

“No?”

“I’m the new kid, that shit sucks. I mean I guess I know the Novaks and Kaia but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna like anyone else. Kind of excited for volleyball tryouts though.”

“Guess my free nights are gonna vanish.” Dean chuckled, though he didn’t seem to mind. He grabbed the wooden spoon, scooped up some extra cookie dough, and handed it to Ben. “Try it, tell me if it’s fine.”

Ben looked skeptical as he took the spoon and tried the dough. It was thick, a little thicker than it should’ve been, and slightly grainy from the sugar not being fully combined with the butter, but it wasn’t the worst dough Dean had ever made. That honour belonged to the one time Dean had tried to make oatmeal raisin cookies and ended up with a batter so inedible it was banished to the compost bin in the backyard.

“It’s fine, won’t kill the neighbours.” He said, handing the spoon back to Dean. “I got a question for you.”

Dean nodded, waiting for Ben to ask.

“Why haven’t you hung out with your best friend yet? We’ve been here for a while and I don’t think you’ve even texted her. Not that I really care but also I’ve facetimed like all of my best friends back in Lawrence on a weekly basis since we moved.”

Dean sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “That’s a little complicated.”

“Well explain it then. It’s 4 and we don’t have to be at the neighbour’s until 6. I wanna know.”

Dean turned away to put the cookies in the oven, shoulders deflating as he turned away. The entire situation had been awkward and uncomfortable and had resulted in a decade of minimal communication. With the cookies in the oven, Dean took a seat at the kitchen table as far away from Spork as he could.

“Do you remember when grandma moved down here? You were six so I don’t really know how much you remember.”

“I remember you being upset but that’s about it.”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t just your grandma that moved around that time. Charlie moved too.”

Ben raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. That couldn’t be the only reason they’d stopped talking. Dean continued on, elaborating.

“Hey, come on in. So sorry it took me so long to get the door, Ben did not want to go down for a nap.” Dean said as he opened the front door, stepping aside to let Charlie in. Today was their standing lunch date, the first Saturday of every month. “I’m sorry we’re not going out like normal. It’s just, it’s been hard since mom moved. I can’t really afford childcare right now.”

“Dude, I don’t care if we go out or not. The entire point’s to hang. Probably better that we’re here anyway, I’ve got news.” Charlie shrugged, kicking off her shoes before making her way to the kitchen as if she owned the place. She’d spent more hours than she cared to admit in the kitchen and the living room, carving out space in the house for herself. Mary had enjoyed having her around while he’d lived there, the daughter she’d never had Mary had said a few times.

“Good or bad?”

“Depends.”

Dean’s heart skipped a beat, wary at the word. Depends was never a good word and judging by the way Charlie looked like she had just bitten into a lemon, it wouldn’t be a good depends for at least one of them. He slid her a box of takeout from their favourite Chinese place down the street before sitting down beside her.

“Is this the kind of depends where one of us goes full ice queen and just doesn’t speak to the other one ever again?”

Charlie shook her head. “Doesn’t have to be if we act like the rational 24 year olds we are.”

“Okay… are you gonna tell me the news?”

“Remember that insane job that I had no business applying for that I applied for?”

“You mean the government job with the benefits, pension, insane pay, and perks? Yeah, I remember it. You had a background check for that, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I did.” She said. “Anyways, I got a call this morning. They gave me a job offer.”

The smile on Dean’s face nearly split it in half as he set down his chopsticks and turned, wrapping his arms around Charlie in an excited hug. “Oh my god that’s great, congrats!”

Charlie returned the hug but her face betrayed her when she pulled away, the guilt clear in the furrow of her brows and the press of her lips together in a tight line slashing through her face. “There’s a catch with accepting the offer.”

Dean’s heart dropped into his stomach of its own volition, nervous tingle racing through his extremities. There was always a catch and the catch always sucked.

“I have to relocate if I accept the job.”

“Well relocation isn’t that bad and you’ve been saying you want to get out of your building anyway so kinda seems like a no brainer. Why are you so sketch about this?”

“It’s not like I’m relocating an hour away, Dean. The job’s like 8 hours away. It’s in Paradise Hills.”

Dean swallowed thickly, voice caught in his throat. 8 hours was a lot but it went deeper than that and judging by how guilty Charlie looked, she knew it. That’s where May had moved four months ago and it had been harder on Dean than he’d expected. He’d relied on her and then she’d left, abandoned him because it was the best move for her.

“You can’t turn down that job, Charles. You’ve wanted something like that for years and with the benefits and pension, it’s a no brainer. I will kick your ass if you don’t take it.”

“You’re not upset?”

“Of course I’m upset, I don’t love that my best friend is going to be moving so far away after my mom did but this isn’t about me. It’s your life and your dream job and I’m not gonna be an asshole about it. If you want the job then accept it and move. I’ll have your back like always.”

Charlie processed for a moment before she smiled, pulling Dean in for another hug.

“Okay, but that makes you sound like you weren’t upset with her for moving. So why would you stop talking? I don’t get it.”

“Oh no, I was really upset about her moving. Your grandma had just moved and then she was moving and it was a lot. I’d lost my entire physical support network and it sucked but she’d wanted a job like that for years so I wasn’t gonna be a dick about it.”

“Okay, so she moved and then what?”

“We talked in the beginning but then it got rough for me and then we just started talking less and less. It’s not like I actively tried to cut her out of my life, it’s just the way adults work. If there’s not enough time or effort on both parts then it just fizzles out.”

Ben looked less than impressed at Dean’s explanation, arms crossed over his chest. “That’s such a lame ass excuse, dad. Seriously. You better call her and find a time to meet up.”

“I’ll call her tomorrow, will that make you happy?”

“No but it’ll make you a better person. Also, you should probably take the cookies out so they don’t burn.”

“Shit, yeah. You go get dressed, I’ll deal with this.” Dean said as he turned away, oven mitt in hand,

Ben bit back a laugh before making his way upstairs and to his room. Spork was there, having wandered off halfway through their conversation, and was passed out in the pile of clothes on Ben’s floor. He glanced over quickly, small smile on his face, before he rummaged for a decent outfit. Ben ended up with jeans and a clean t-shirt, grabbing a flannel in case the neighbour’s place was air-conditioned and cold. If he’d inherited one thing from Dean, it was their shared love of flannels in all weather.

The walk over to Garth and Bess’ didn’t take too long and Garth was quick to open the door when the pair knocked, smiling at them. “C’mon in, dinner’s just about ready.”

“We brought dessert. Where should I stick it?” Dean asked, stepping inside.

“In the kitchen would be great, should be on your left just down the hallway. You’ll see Bess, can’t miss it.”

Nodding his head, Dean lumbered down the hallway with the plate of cookies in hand. Bess was in the kitchen like Garth had said and glanced up when she heard footsteps, offering Dean a friendly smile. “So glad you and Ben could make it! We would’ve had you over sooner but it’s been a bit hectic with the new school year approaching and whatnot.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. Trying to get Ben to make sure he’s got everything he needs for next week is like pulling teeth.”

“Awfully lucky you know a dentist then.”

Dean chuckled in response. He set the cookies down on the counter, keeping an eye out for Ben and Garth who had made their way back into the kitchen. Bess urged them all to sit down, practically shooing them away from the stove via vaguely threatening gestures with a wooden spoon. They all obliged, taking their respective seats.

“So, Ben, your dad was just staying you’re starting school next week. Have you got your schedule yet?” Bess asked, setting a bowl of steaming mixed vegetables on the table.

“Yeah, I do. It kind of sucks but that’s okay. I’ve got calc, physics, chem, and English this semester.”

“Well that’s certainly busy.” She said, setting a dish of roast potatoes on the table. “I’d watch out for Kibalenko if he’s teaching you chem. He knows his stuff but he’s not the friendliest and he’s not afraid to fail students either.”

“Probably a good thing I’m good at science then.”

“Who’s your English teacher?” Garth asked curiously.

“Mrs. Fitzgerald. Claire says she’s cool but I haven’t had much luck with English teachers. Last one I had really didn’t like my analysis of twelfth night, called it surface level and contrived.”

Bess laughed quietly, setting the final dish on the table before taking her seat next to Garth. “Well I promise I won’t call your analysis surface level and contrived. Just don’t make Romeo and Juliet too painful for me.”

“I don’t love Shakespeare but I promise I’ll do my best.”

Bess was content to leave the conversation at that and Garth was quick to encourage everyone to help themselves, loading up his plate with the spaghetti Bolognese he and Bess had made. They were silent meal eaters for the majority of the meal, save for when Garth was loading his plate up with seconds.

“So Dean, how are you finding Paradise Hills so far?” He asked, reaching across the table for another piece of garlic bread.

“It’s nice, more relaxed than Lawrence for sure. Neighbours are interesting too, friendlier.”

“That’s what we found when we moved here too.” Bess nodded. “You got a favourite neighbour yet? And don’t be shy and lie, we all have a favourite neighbour and everyone’s answer is always Cas.”

“Okay yeah, obviously it’s Cas. Kind of hard not to be when you live directly beside the man and have a chat with him every morning before work.”

Bess nodded, the expression on her face strangely full of knowing. She was no stranger to the magnetic pull Cas had on other people, she’d fallen victim to it countless times, and she had a feeling Dean was doing the same. It wasn’t quite the same, judging by the exasperated fondness on his face, but it was similar.

“I did actually have a question for you, Dean. Work related of course.” Garth interjected. “Rowena was saying that you’re fixing up some furniture in the store for her and I was just wondering if you have the time to pick up any other projects?”

“What kind of project? I might have some time, I’m almost done with Rowena’s stuff, but I feel like I reserve the right to be a little selective about what I pick up.”

“I can show it to you now if you want.” Garth said, pausing to look at Bess and silently ask permission to leave the dinner table in the middle of dinner. She granted it and Garth practically leapt up from the table, taking Dean with him. He led Dean down the hall and into one of the bedrooms before gesturing at the singular piece of furniture in it.

It was a crib, dark wood carved into intricate floral patterns along the bannisters and the support beams. A high arch towered at the head and foot of the crib, more florals carved into them with what appeared to be a delicate hand. Dean stepped towards it, fingers brushing across the railing and swiping away the thick coat of dust resting there. “How long have you had this?”

“Been in my family since the 1800s.”

Dean nodded, turning back around to face Garth. “So you and Bess are expecting then?”

“Yeah, we are. Found out a few months ago, we’re pretty excited.”

“Well congrats, that’s huge news! I’m guessing you want the crib restored for the kid when it gets here?”

“We were kind of hoping, yeah. But don’t feel like you have to do it if you don’t have time or the money or anything like that. The last thing we want to do is impose on you or pressure you into stuff.”

“I love working on old stuff, you wouldn’t be imposing at all! I think keeping an heirloom in the family and using it is pretty sweet. That being said, there is something I’ve been meaning to ask you actually.”

Garth nodded, urging Dean to continue his train of thought.

“See, I know you’re a dentist and well- Ben and I are kind of in the market for a dentist. Think you can find room for two more clients?”

“I definitely think we can arrange that.”

As Dean and Garth stood around and chatted about the crib and the coordination with the taking on of new clients, Ben was helping Bess in the kitchen. The pair had cleaned up the table and packed the leftovers in the fridge, dishes rinsed and put in the dishwasher ready to be cleaned. Dessert was still on the counter, the raspberry pie and the cookies sitting out as Bess and Ben picked at them.

“Did you or dad make the cookies?” Bess asked, fork of pie halfway to her mouth.

“He did, that’s why they’re kind of burnt. Dad can do a lot but he’s not the greatest at cooking or baking. Kind of surprised he’s survived this long without giving himself food poisoning.”

“Sounds like Garth when I first met him.”

“How did you two meet?”

Bess smiled, a soft smile that spoke of fond remembrance. “We met freshman year of university, English 101. He needed an arts credit but wasn’t good at English and I took pity on him. Loaned him a pencil one day and it turned into me tutoring him and then hanging out and dating.”

“How’d you know you liked him?”

Bess tilted her head to the side, glimmer in her eye. “Does this have anything to do with the blonde next door?”

Ben flushed red, staring down at the cookies.

“Well obviously you like her and that’s completely fine. Don’t you think this is more of a conversation for your dad?”

“Not really. He’s been on five bad dates in the last fifteen years so I don’t really think he’s qualified to give me any advice on dating anyone. Also it’s just weird as hell when you’re asking your parent for dating advice. I just- I don’t really know if she likes me and it hasn’t been that long and I don’t know how to go about things.”

Bess thought for a few minutes, trying to wrap her head around the best way to explain this to Ben. There was no good answer to give, no one true solution that would guarantee a hundred percent that the pair would end up together and not hurt in some capacity.

“I can’t give you an answer that’ll work all of the time but in my experience, just be honest and don’t push. Garth and I worked out because he told me honestly that he liked me and wanted to date and he was willing to go as slow or as quick as I needed when we did date. Just treat the other person like they’re a human being deserving of respect and it’ll be okay.”

Ben nodded his head, trying to absorb the advice the best he could. It made sense, was practically common sense, but he appreciated it nonetheless. He wanted to ask Bess another question but Dean and Garth were returning so he decided to bite the question back. Garth and Dean seemed like they were engrossed in a conversation about some kind of candy and tooth related story, neither paying attention to the other two in the room.

“Seems like you two are having fun.” Bess chuckled, reaching out to pull Garth close and wrap her arms around him. “What did you think of the crib, Dean?”

“I think it’ll be a fantastic project and I’m looking forward to working on it. I’ll have to disassemble it it to get it out and to my backyard though. I can pop by around noon tomorrow if that works for you and Garth?”

“Noon sounds great. I’ll make sure your plate is all clean to give back around then too.”

“Okay awesome!” Dean said, glancing over at Ben. “Whattya think kiddo, time to head out and head home?”

“Home sounds good.”

Dean nodded and waited for Ben to wander over before smiling at Garth and Bess. “Thank you again for having us, seriously. Dinner was fantastic, your cooking is incredible. I’ll be back tomorrow to grab the crib and my plate.”

“Well thank you for being such great company and brining the cookies as well, they’ll definitely feed us for the next few snack times.”

With that Dean and Ben took their leave, heading out and back home.

~

“I don’t know if she’s going to respond well to seeing me.” Dean sighed, staring at Ben over a cup of steaming hot coffee. “I mean yeah she’ll be happy to see me but she’s going to hit me and she hits hard.”

“So? Hitting is a part of a healthy friendship. Just grow up and go see her.”

“You really want me out of the house don’t you?”

Ben shrugged.

“Okay well, don’t do anything crazy while I’m gone. Keep Spork in line too. He got into my sock drawer the other day and while it was maybe cute, I didn’t really enjoy having to wash all of my socks again just so I could wear them.”

“Won’t be a problem. I’m teaching him tricks in the backyard today, internet says now is a good time to teach him stuff and have him actually remember how to do it.”

Dean shook his head, bemused. He didn’t understand the sudden obsession Ben had with teaching Spork tricks but it kept both kid and cat out of his hair so he didn’t really mind. Getting up with a wince when his knee creaked, Dean tossed his mug into the sink and reached for his keys. He wasn’t exactly ready to see Charlie again but Ben had been right and the very least she deserved to know that they were in town. Sparse communication didn’t mean no communication and truth be told, Dean missed Charlie.

Charlie lived on the other end of town, renting a home from someone else in the community. It was a cute little place, the lawn well taken care of and the Spock and Kirk lawn gnomes greeting him with friendly smiles. Her yellow VW bug sat parked in the driveway and Dean let out a shaky breath of anxious relief when he realized she was home. Seeing her was always an interesting experience. His hand hovered over the door for a moment before he knocked, heart leaping nervously into his throat.

There was silence for three minutes before the door swung open and then Dean was staring at the best friend he hadn’t seen in a decade.

Charlie hadn’t changed much, the same long red hair falling to her shoulders and the same eyes that Dean had spent countless hours sharing knowing and unknowing looks with. She looked good, comfortable in her sweats and doctor who t-shirt. The only thing that hadn’t been there last time was the hint of a tattoo peeking out around her collarbone.

“Dean?”

“Surprise.” He chuckled nervously, throwing up his hands in a jazz hands motion.

Charlie blinked as if to blink away her disbelief and then her expression morphed from confusion to joy to suspicion. It was only when her suspicion hit her that, true to his prediction, she hit his arm and then pulled him inside. “What in the hell are you doing here? Don’t you live like 8 hours away?”

“Technically I live 20 minutes away now.” He clarified, head swiveling to get a look at her place. The living room was comfortable looking, overstuffed couches paired with a god awful lime green coffee table and aqua book cases. It was entirely too colourful and maximalist but it was one hundred percent Charlie and he loved it.

“When did you move?”

“Like 3ish months ago.”

Charlie glared at him, hitting his arm again. “And you’re just now reaching out? Asshole move there Winchester.”

“Yeah I know, the kid already gave me shit for it.”

“Good, he’s been taught well. You want a coffee or anything? I was about to make myself one.”

Dean nodded his head, following Charlie into the kitchen that was just as colourful and obnoxious as the rest of her place. She slid him the chipped han solo mug they’d stolen from a bar in college before leaning against the counter, eyeing Dean.

“You look good, happyish. Must be nice being so close to your mom again.”

“It is. Nice being close to you again too. I’ve been shit at communicating and I don’t really have an excuse so I’m not gonna try and make one but I did miss you and I’m kind of glad we can be closer again. I need someone who’s not gonna enable me and will tell me like it is.”

“And that sounds like you did something you shouldn’t have and need advice now. What’d you do?”

“It’s what I haven’t done.”

Charlie’s unimpressed reaction spoke volumes and Dean cringed in reaction to it.

“I’m telling him Friday, I just- I dunno how to go about it. Like it’s his first week at the new school with new friends and I just feel bad cuz it’s gonna add stress that he doesn’t need but he’s been asking questions and I don’t wanna lie. Would also feel bad if I didn’t tell him especially cuz I asked the neighbour for advice and he told me to tell him.”

“Woah, hold on for a minute. You told your new neighbour about Lisa?”

“Sorta.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow, prompting Dean to continue.

“So his name’s Cas and he’s got two kids right around Ben’s age. I wasn’t going to tell him but we’ve kind of become friends since we talk every day and he seems pretty cool so I asked for some advice without going into specifics and he kind of gave me a different perspective.”

“Right. So this mysterious dad neighbour can convince you to tell Ben about Lisa but your best friend of like 30 years can’t. Are you two fucking cuz that’s just about the only way I can see how someone you’ve just met would be able to convince you to do the right thing.”

“I’m straight so no, we’re not fucking. He just made sense, that’s all. Now enough about me, what have you been up to?”

Charlie made a noise that said she was going to file this conversation away for a later date before she obliged and moved on like Dean wanted. “Mmm let’s see. Since we last talked I’ve gotten two promotions, had three breakups, briefly followed a band for a couple months, and have had an alright time. Got back into Moondor and it’s going super well, like I’m the queen level. People just seem to love redheads in the LARP scene.”

“Okay yeah, you’ve been pretty busy. Congrats on the promos, you definitely deserve them. Any luck with the ladies since?”

Charlie shook her head. “Kind of run out of hope. Dating apps are hell so I’m waiting for the universe to make something happen organically but it’s been pretty slow at making the magic happen which sucks. Good to know you’re struggling with it too, I’m assuming anyway.”

“Yeah, it’s not going well. I think Ben’s having better luck than I am at this point.”

“He’s got a crush?”

“One of the neighbour’s kids, Claire. I don’t get it but I’m also not 16 anymore. Between you and me I don’t think it’ll end well but that’s a lesson he’s gonna have to learn on his own. There’s just something about her that I don’t love.”

“Well that’s gonna be fun when you’ve got to deal with the eventual fallout.” She said, taking a seat at her kitchen table. “When do I get to see my god kid?”

“If you want to see him in a good mood, I’d suggest before Friday. No guarantee what he’ll be like after that. If you don’t really care then we can make basically any time work provided he wants to speak with me enough to coordinate something.”

“We’ll figure it out whenever we can, I don’t have time this week to be honest. There’s a huge project due at the end of this week and then moondor has the annual battle of the kingdoms this weekend and I am not about to lose my kingdom to any of the greasy sacks that call themselves rulers.”

“Fair enough, a later time then.”

As Dean and Charlie sat and talked, Dean felt himself relaxing more and more. He didn’t understand why he’d been so nervous to talk to Charlie after so long. Maybe he thought she’d hate him for not communicating or that they would’ve grown too far apart but that wasn’t the case. She was the same as she had always been, just older and better adjusted to adult life. Her air of questioning Dean was still going and he’d forgotten how much he enjoyed it.

The olive branch had been extended and accepted and Dean knew he had another person in his corner backing him up.

~

Internet stalking, as it turned out, was an art form all its own.

Claire knew it well, better than most as far as she was concerned. She’d found Sam Winchester when they’d been snooping through Dean’s room, had easily found the finstas of the people in high school who were assholes just for the sake of being assholes, and even searched for people for projects that were nothing more than footnotes in the annals of history.

Searching for Lisa Braeden was unlike anything else she’d done.

The process itself wasn’t particularly complicated, simply a big sweep of all relevant social medias for profiles with the name and photos matching the photo of the woman they had found in the shoebox. What made it complicated was how common the name was. She’d come across nearly twenty eight Lisa Braedens already and none of them were the Lisa Braeden she actually wanted to find.

The only reason she cared enough to keep going was because of what it meant to Ben. She had no skin in the game but seeing Ben so spun out about this woman felt like an injustice that needed to be corrected. Everyone deserved to know who their parents were and he was no exception. He’d said Dean was hiding things about her and Claire believed it. She didn’t know Dean Winchester well but she knew enough to know that he was clearly cagey about Ben’s mom and didn’t want whatever it was to get out.

She knew about her mom, about her parents, and that was an uncomfortable situation so why was dean unwilling to talk about his own situation. What was so bad about him and Lisa that he had practically erased her name from existence? At first she’d wanted to find out about Ben’s mom purely out of morbid curiosity but the longer she sat with that curiosity, the more it changed. Curiosity turned to pity and then to frustration and disbelief at the lack of openness in the Winchester family. It was an easy fix and she was going to fix it.

It was 2 am on Saturday night when she finally struck gold.

The profile picture was so small she’d barely noticed it in the sea of Lisa Braedens flooding Facebook but one wrong click with her thumb opened up a word of possibility for her. There she was, the woman from the picture, in a million other photos. She was in Rome in one, in Canada in another, yet another on a beach or a yoga studio. But it wasn’t any of those photos that caught her attention and churned her stomach with regret.

It was the photo of Lisa Braeden in a wedding dress.

Claire scanned the photo for dates and names and as much information as possible, scribbling notes into the notebook beside her bed. She’d found his mom, found the woman had plagued Ben for years, but it wasn’t good.

There were two options for her: first, to pretend that she couldn’t find Lisa Braeden and let Ben continue to wonder about her fate until Dean told him, if he told him, or she could be honest and tell him exactly what he found. Pretending she hadn’t found the profile would protect her from any inability but it would be lying to Ben and it would only be delaying the inevitable, prolonging his suffering and making the final outcome all the worse. On the other hand, telling him would make sure he knew but would also make everything worse. Seismic news was never a good thing, especially at the beginning of the year. But he had a right to know and knowing now would give him the time to process and heal and wasn’t that a good thing?

Friday, Claire decided. That’s when she would tell Ben.

Chapter Text

“I made your usual first day breakfast.” Dean said when he heard Ben step into the kitchen, gesturing to the kitchen table. On the plate in front of Ben’s chair was a smiley face made with bacon and eggs and toast on the side, a glass of orange juice growing condensation ready to wash it all down.

“Dad, I’m not five anymore.”

“No but you’re a teenager and you need to eat.” He replied. “How are you feeling about this?”

Ben shrugged, sitting at the table. He wanted to appear cool and unbothered in front of his dad but as he stared at the plate of food and the bacon grease slowly congealing, his stomach churned. It was high school and he’d already survived two years so it wasn’t like this was new except that it was; in every way that mattered, it was different. The teachers were all new, the classes all different, and that didn’t even count the culture of the students in the town. Ben knew he’d be fine, that he’d fit in and make friends, but it didn’t stop him from worrying about it regardless. Being a social outcast was a death sentence and he didn’t want to die.

“Nervous.” Ben finally admitted,

“Figured you would be which is exactly why I’ve had this story prepared for years.”

Ben raised an eyebrow, settling in to listen to one of Dean’s many anecdotes.

Math was Dean’s enemy, it had always had been. Freshman year math was no exception and Dean was struggling through it, barely passing every test the teacher subjected them to. It was November when Mr. Smith asked Dean to stay after school so they could talk and to say Dean was nervous was an understatement.

He showed up as requested, having spent most of the day chewing his fingernails in an attempt to channel some of the nervous energy that wouldn’t go away. Mr. Smith was going to tell him that he was going to flunk out and have to repeat the class, he just knew it.

Mr. Smith offered Dean a smile when he came in, gesturing for Dean to take a seat. “You know why I asked you here?”

“Because I’m gonna flunk and have to repeat the class.”

Mr. Smith shook his head. “No, that’s not why. You’re not doing well, that’s true, but it’s fixable. I just think you need a little extra help and time having the concepts explained to you. Maybe a different way of looking at the concepts would help.”

“Well I don’t know anyone who’s gonna help me do that so late into the year.”

“I will. You’re a smart kid and I don’t see why you should have to suffer just because you think differently than the rest of the class. If you come in during lunch period I can go over everything with you and help.”

“I don’t really see how getting tutoring is embarrassing or helps with me being nervous.” Ben said.

“Well no that’s not helpful but I did end up calling him dad several times by accident that year and in the next three years so I kind of got stuck with an unfortunate nickname for most of high school.”

“Are you serious? Did that actually happen?”

Dean nodded his head in agreement. “Yeah, it did. So as long as you don’t do that you’ll be fine. You want a ride to school?”

“Already got one. Kaia’s picking up Jack and Claire and I got the invite. Gonna need a ride home after though.”

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then. Maybe we’ll grab ice cream or something after.”

Content with their arrangement, Ben finished the rest of his food and scooped up his bag. He made sure to give Dean an awkward side hug before he was slipping into his shoes and rushing out the door to meet Kaia and the Novaks.

Kaia’s car, as it turned out, was an old Honda civic with garish bumper stickers and ducks hanging from the mirror in the front. It felt perfectly teenage girlish and Ben gave her a nod of approval as he slid into the back seat next to Jack. Jack was decked out in another bright shirt, this one mint green with a peach pattern, and Ben knew he’d like the shirt more if it was about four degrees less bright. But that was Jack’s style and they were rocking it.

“Another flannel, seriously? You’re gonna sweat your ass off in there today.” Claire said as she turned her head, craning her neck so she could talk to Ben in the backseat.

“At least he didn’t go full raccoon liner like somebody did.” Kaia teased.

“I have an aesthetic and I stick to it. You don’t complain about it when you beg me to do your eyeliner.”

Kaia rolled her eyes but she didn’t argue, knowing Claire was right. What she did do, as she scoured the parking lot for an opening was address Ben. “So, I know Claire and Jack’s schedules now. What’s yours this semester? We might have some classes together.”

“Uh, lemme see. Calc and physics in the morning and then I’ve got English and chem after lunch.”

“Third period with Mrs. Fitzgerald?”

Dean nodded.

“We’ve all got English together!” Jack said, clearly excited. “It’s gonna be so nice having someone else who isn’t a girl I know in that class. I cannot have another debate about the inherent homoeroticism in Shakespeare again.”

“Okay, that was one time and you started it because you brought up Hamlet and Horatio. I still stand by that analysis.”

“No more fighting in my car, everyone out!” Kaia mumbled, quick to usher them all out and lock the doors. She’d learned over the year that once Claire and Jack got picking at each other that they didn’t stop unless they were made to.

Used to a school with close to a thousand students, Ben was rather surprised when they pulled up to a building that looked like it wouldn’t hold more than 700 people. The building looked dated but there was a charm to it, as much charm as a building meant to imprison teenagers could have. A rock circle near one of the entrances was bustling with kids huddled over some kind of board and closer to the road was another gaggle of kids, hazy smoke obscuring their faces.

“How many people go here anyway?” Ben asked as he followed the group. “Cuz it seems really small.”

“Like 500. The other half go to one of those catholic schools on the other side of town. They’re fine but a little weird.” Claire shrugged. “Hey, what’s your locker number?”

“28B. No clue where that is though.”

“Second floor, right by the math and science section. It’s close to mine actually.” Kaia said. “We’ve got really similar schedules this semester, only difference is I’ve got history instead of chem.”

“Great, means I won’t get lost, hopefully.”

The hallways, while emptier than Ben was used to, still bustled with activity. Students congregated at the lockers and the benches, undoubtedly catching up after the summer months. There was no single style or look that seemed to flow through all of the students as the group wove their way through the hallway but Ben was beginning to notice something else.

Kaia was popular, that much wasn’t in question. By the time they’d made it to the stairs she’d talked to at least seven people and had had about ten others wave at her or call her name in greeting. Most of them were tall and tough, clearly athletes, and Ben was impressed. Wrestling had been a joke at his old school but it apparently carried some weight her if her treatment was anything to go by.

“I didn’t realize you’d be so popular.” Ben said as they stopped at his locker. “Wrestling was kind of lame at my old school.”

“Yeah well it’s one of the only teams here that’s any good and it helps to be the captain. You still want on the volleyball team?”

“Planning on it, yeah.”

“Hold on a sec.” she said before she left Ben, heading down the hallway and stopping at the locker of a blonde guy in a striped t-shirt. For several minutes she stood there and chatted with the guy, hands gesturing a little wildly as the pair of them seemed to get excited. Eventually she turned back in Ben’s direction and then brought the guy over.

“So, I was just telling Mark here that you’re trying out for the volleyball team. He’s captain of varsity, coaches JV too.”

Mark offered a little wave, taking a good long look at Ben. “What position d’you play?”

“Outside hitter mostly, opposite if I have to.”

“Lucky you, we’re looking for an outside hitter. Ours is a dumbass and fractured his collarbone in a jetski accident so he’ll be out like the entire season. Kaia says you’re good.”

“I mean I was playing varsity last year as a soph at my old school so I guess so.” Ben shrugged. “Tryouts are Wednesday right?”

“Sure are. I’ll see you there.”

Ben waited until Mark was out of sight and earshot before he turned to Kaia, eyes wide. “I don’t know how you know him but thank you so much. At the very least I think you just landed me as an alternate or jv.”

“Don’t thank me, it’s no biggie. You’re a cool dude and also kicked ass at beach volleyball when we were playing. Just keep being chill and we’ll call it even.”

Ben, still flabbergasted, simply nodded his head.

By then Claire and Jack had split from the group, gone off to their own lockers and their own classes. It felt awkward being without them, he’d sent almost every day hanging out with them for the past three months, but he knew they’d find him during lunch, Not that it really mattered anyway because he had Kaia in his first two classes and knowing he had one friend would make it easier to make more.

He and Kaia were the first of their group to make it to lunch and quickly chose a table to secure their unofficial official seats. Ben watched the Novaks when they entered, curious about their reception within the wider array of the school. Jack, who was still nothing but smiles and a friendly face, stopped practically every other person to say hi or have a conversation. It was more than clear that they knew a great deal of people and were more than happy to stand around and chit chat.

“Surprising, I know.” Kaia said, noticing Ben watching. “Jack’s just always made friends and been nice so everyone kind of likes them. It’s one of those things where even the people who don’t like people tolerate them. Can’t say I’ve ever seen them get harassed, and I’m talking about even in middle school here.”

“I get the feeling it’s not like that for Claire.”

“Yeah, no. Love her to death but she takes a little getting used to so definitely not for everyone. She knows enough people but she’s not stopping in the middle of the hallway every two minutes to chat like Jack does.”

Ben wasn’t surprised by that. Claire took a lot of getting used to. She knew what she wanted and was unafraid to be herself which unfortunately meant she spoke her mind and came across as tactless and abrasive if you didn’t really know her. Ben was convinced that Dean still didn’t like her and knew that he definitely would like her if he knew she had snooped through his stuff. He liked it though, the way she was unafraid to be herself. As he shifted to make room for them at the table, he had a sneaking feeling Kaia liked it too.

The final periods of the day passed by with little fuss, English and chem uneventful for Ben. It was only at the end of the day when Kaia had stay late that he turned back to Claire and Jack with an offer.

“My dad’s picking me up, said we’re gonna grab ice cream. I can convince him to bring you guys if you want a ride home.”

“I won’t say no to a ride home. Our dad’s always late, he gets distracted at work talking to people and then tries to make it up to us which would be fun if it didn’t happen so often.” Claire said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Seemed like you and Kaia were getting along really well today.”

“She’s cool. Introduced me to the volleyball captain so I’m pretty sure I’m a shoe in for the team as long as I don’t fuck up at tryouts on Wednesday.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great. She wouldn’t introduce you to him unless she was sure you’d make the team.”

Ben nodded, feeling good about his prospects of success. Dean arrived a few minutes later and Ben slid into the front seat, making sure the Novaks got in the back before Dean could say anything. Only when they were secure in the back did he turn to his dad. “I kind of told them we’d give them a ride home since they live right next to us.”

“That’s fine, I don’t mind.” Dean replied. “Ben and I were going to grab ice cream, we usually do after the first day of school. Do you two want some too?”

“If you’re offering then sure, that would be cool. Thanks.” Jack said, settling down in the backseat.

The group ended up at the only ice cream shop in town, a local family run place called Dad’s that, like every other small store in the town, seemed to be partnered with local farmers and producers for their flavours. The selection was decent and the group all got different flavours, sitting at the bench outside since Dean refused to let anyone eat in the interior of his car.

“Y’know I read somewhere that your flavour of ice cream can say a lot about who you are as a person.” Jack said, ice cream in hand. “Like it said that people who like bubblegum are young at heart and know how to have fun because they’re not jaded.”

“Or it’s because they’re like seven.” Claire replied. She didn’t seem to care that her reply could’ve been seen as mildly insulting and cared less that Dean had raised an eyebrow at her.

She was too busy staring at Dean as she ate her ice cream, trying to figure him out. He seemed so unassuming, the same boring flavour of adult man that she saw everywhere. But she knew he wasn’t, she’d seen the shoebox and the ring. Dean had secrets and she knew them. What she didn’t know was why he had them. He had to tell Ben at some point but why had it taken so long and why had he still not done it? Maybe he was afraid of the outcome?

Regardless of whatever the reason was, she didn’t understand it and she certainly didn’t respect it. The world, as far as Claire was concerned, was entirely too dishonest and Dean lying to Ben only proved that point. Cas would never lie to her like that, or to anyone for that matter.

“I saw the horror movie calendar in your kitchen. You got a favourite?” Claire asked Dean, trying to suss out more about the man.

Dean glanced over, surprised Claire was addressing him directly. “Depends on the vibe you’re going for. Overall can’t pick a single one. If we’re talking slashers then obviously it’s Nightmare on Elm Street.”

“Really showing your age there. Terrifier is objectively the best slasher.”

Dean shot her a glare that made it very clear he did not appreciate her comment.

“All I’m saying is that Terrifier feels like a breath of fresh air in the franchise and it’s fun. It doesn’t have fifteen million movies and shitty spinoffs.”

“You make a fair point but we’ll agree to disagree. I take it body horror is your vibe then? Maybe some experimental stuff?”

Claire nodded her head, tossing the napkin sticky with tiger stripe ice cream in the trash.

“Watch Mermaid in a Manhole then. It’s part of the Japanese Guinea Pig films. It’s gross but seems like you’d like it. Do not tell your father I told you to watch that, I don’t need him killing me.”

That intrigued Claire and she made a mental note of it. The film must be interesting if there was that disclaimer attached. Even Dean telling her about it was interesting though it did throw her for a loop. He was trying to be nice to her and give her recommendations which she appreciated but would that really make up for everything else that was coming down the pipeline? She wasn’t so sure.

“Okay, can we not have my dad bonding with a teenage girl please? I don’t want to be on an episode of to catch a predator.” Ben mumbled.

“Relax, your dad’s not my type. Too burly.”

“And I don’t do blondes.” Dean replied, making his distaste for Claire evident in his tone. She wasn’t causing any real problems but there was something about her that he just didn’t like. It was a gut instinct that told him she could do some real damage if the mood to be petty and invasive ever struck her. That’s the last thing he wanted for Ben but he knew better than to tell Ben who his friends should be.

“On that note, dad I think we should really go home. I don’t think the neighbour would like if his kids just didn’t show up after school.”

When the group finished their ice cream and cleaned their hand according to Dean’s exacting standards, they headed back home. Jack made sure to thank Dean for the ice cream before they headed back to their place. Claire offered a grumbled thank you before she followed her sibling into the house. Cas shot Dean a wave on his way into the house as well.

~

“Holy shit, you’re not on your knees this morning.” Dean said as he made his way over to the fence where Cas was already leaning. “This is a first.”

Cas glanced over at Dean, eyes dragging up and down slowly. This banter had become second nature and maybe, just maybe Cas wanted to see how far he could push it.  “If you want me on my knees, all you have to do is ask.”

“Buy me dinner first.”

Cas nearly choked on his coffee, surprised Dean fired back so quickly and in the manner he did. They’d been bantering like this for a few weeks now, bringing in the jokes and comments. Cas blamed it on the fact that Dean had brought up pegging at least four times since they’d met. A neighbour with loose morals was exactly the kind of neighbour he wanted.

“Seems like you’re in a good mood this morning.”

“Well duh, that’s kind of what happens when you’ve got good projects at work and had a successful date.”

“What was this one like?” Cas asked, taking another sip of his coffee.

“She was cool, works as a vet tech. Blonde, which isn’t normally my thing, but it’s not a dealbreaker. Had one of those smiles that’s kind of infectious, a bit like yours I think. Kinda crooked in that endearing way.”

“What’s your normal type then? You’ve got me a little bit curious.”

Dean paused for a moment to think, running over it in his mind. “I mean from a purely looks perspective I’m a sucker for dark hair and athletic types. Probably not very good for me given my dating history but that’s fine, I’m not about to learn my lesson now. If we’re talking personality though, I like ‘em funny in a sarcastic way. They’ve got to be kind too but I feel like that’s obvious.”

“Pretty broad type, lots of options.” Cas mused. While he’d hardly admit it to Dean, he’d been scoping the man out ever since he’d moved into the neighbourhood. He was a catch, tall and angular and good with his hands if his job was any indication. None of that even touched on his sense of humour which Cas found incredibly charming. The only hitch came in the form of Dean being woefully, pitifully, seemingly straight. Not that that stopped Cas’ imagination from running wild.

“What about you? I’m sure you’ve got a type if your string of conquests is any indication.”

“What we’re not gonna do is call them conquests because that makes it sound like I’m some gun toting dudebro who doesn’t respect women which is horrible.” Cas said, trying to frame the mild offense as more of a joke. “But I’m not picky, depends on my mood I guess. What’s got you so curious about it?”

“Well I’m not having a lot of luck with the whole dating thing aside from the last date I went on and I’m kind of starting to wonder if I’m just not attractive. Probably ridiculous and definitely not something we need to be talking about at like quarter to 7 in the morning but anyway.”

Cas laughed before he could stop himself, embarrassed when Dean looked at him like he had three heads. Setting his mug down so he didn’t spill coffee everywhere, Cas began to explain. “Dean, you’re a conventionally attractive man with muscles and a sense of humour. I can name about twelve people, men and women, off the top of my head who’d be down for a romp. Your problem isn’t your looks, it’s confidence. Well your lack of it.”

Dean stared blankly, eyes darting down when he felt Cas’ hand on his shoulder. The action was innocuous at best but there was something about it that caught him off guard, a strange vulnerability. He didn’t have to think too hard about it because Cas was taking again.

“Once you get more confident in yourself, you’ll have people tripping over themselves for you and I’m being dead serious. There’s nothing sexier than someone who’s justifiably confident in themselves and knows it.”

“I’ll figure it out when pigs fly I guess.” Dean shrugged, checking his watch and sighing with reluctance. “Unfortunately I have to go to work. Also, I’ve got to cancel on tv tomorrow night. I’m gonna talk to Ben and I don’t know how well it’s gonna go or how long it’s gonna take.”

“I’m just next door if it doesn’t go well. Good luck though.”

Dean nodded, offered Cas a smile, and turned on his heels to head out to work

~

Dean woke up with knots in his stomach, the ringing of his alarm syncing in time with the nervous beats of his heart. Today was the day he was going to destroy his son’s life by being honest and he wasn’t ready for it. Ben deserved to know the truth, he had for years, but there was no way to predict how he would react.

He put himself on autopilot as he showered and made breakfast, barely aware of the coffee burning his tongue as he sipped. It was bitter and too strong and felt apropos for the moment. Dean barely registered that Ben was in the kitchen until he heard the screech of the chair legs against the tile and the telltale meow of Spork who was already fighting Ben for his bacon.

“You good dad?” Ben asked, snapping Dean out of his reverie.

“Yeah, fine.” He replied, running a hand through his hair. “You gonna be home on time today?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Cuz I have something I want to talk to you about.”

Ben pursed his lips, immediately suspicious. The last time Dean had used those words he’d moved them all the way down here and that hadn’t been great to begin with. Talking in the Winchester home foretold of impending doom and the last thing Ben wanted was doom, impending or otherwise.

“Can you tell me this morning?”

Dean shook his head. “Easier to do it tonight, trust me. I gotta get going though, you good to lock up before you head to school?”

“Sure.”

“Great. Have a good day kiddo, I’m off. Love you.”

Ben waited until he heard Dean start the car before he turned to Spork, staring at the cat who had somehow wrapped himself in a dish towel. “He never needs to talk and he never finishes a sentence with love you. I think this might be bad Spork.”

Spork meowed in response before deciding a nap in the dish towel was the best course of action.

Ben seemed distracted as he got ready for school, running through every single thing Dean could possibly tell him in his mind. Thoughts about the family preoccupied Ben through the morning and first period while thoughts about Mary took over second period. He was too busy during lunch to think of much of all, contributing to a million conversations with little quips and tidbits in order to distract himself from the giant question mark circling him.

Third period revolved around Dean specifically. Was his dad going to tell him that he was seriously dating again or that something had happened or that there was some other big change coming? It didn’t seem likely. There was no way it was about work or the house, Ben knew he would’ve heard Dean mumbling to himself about those. Maybe it was the neighbours but that too didn’t seem likely, definitely not worthy of a ‘we need to talk’ being dropped.

Fourth period is when the dreaded realization hit Ben. There was only one reason Dean would seem so nervous about talking, one reason why he would insist it be after school. It was about his mom, it had to be. But why was he telling him now? He couldn’t know about what they’d done, how they’d snooped through his things. There was no way.

Flooded with thoughts and sudden anxiety, Ben was only half aware of his surroundings by the time class let out and they were free to go for the day. On autopilot he followed the flood of students out of the building, hovering by the bench as he waited for the Novaks and Kaia.

“Hey, long time no see.” Claire said as she tapped his shoulder, breaking him out of his fog. She was alone, Jack and Kaia nowhere in sight.

“Yeah. Are Jack and Kaia coming?”

Claire shook her head. “You and I gotta talk so we’re walking home.”

“You’re the second person who’s told me we need to talk today.”

“Who’s the first?”

“My dad.” Ben said. “I don’t know what it’s about but he seemed nervous this morning and asked me to come home like right after school.”

Claire sucked air through her teeth, shoving her hands in her pockets. Suddenly it felt impossible to look at Ben and her collected thoughts were running amok in her head. She was nervous and prayed Ben didn’t notice. He did.

“Okay so what’s your deal? Because you’re not talking my ear off and your grin is gone. Between you and my dad I feel like I’m the problem here.”

“It’s not you. It’s uh, it’s about your mom.”

Ben stopped dead in his tracks, turning to face Claire. “What about her?”

“I found her.”

“When?”

Claire hesitated, sighing deeply. “A week ago. I um, I didn’t wanna overwhelm you with the semester starting and then I didn’t really know if I wanted to tell you at all because there’s no way you’re gonna like what I have to say and it’s just not gonna be good.”

“It’s fine, my grandma told me already. I know she’s dead.”

Claire’s eyebrow nearly shot off her face, the shock evident in the drop of her jaw, “Uh no, that’s not true.”

“What do you mean that’s not true?”

“I mean that’s a lie and I can prove it.” Claire mumbled. “It’s all on my laptop at home. Do you want to see it before you talk to your dad? I know whatever he wants to say is important but this is important too.”

Ben blinked slowly, trying to process what he’d heard. Claire was saying Mary was lying but Mary had never lied to him so why would she lie about something as serious as his mom? If Mary was right then Claire had found some random woman and while she’d done her best, it had really been for nothing. But if Claire was right and Mary had lied, Ben was terrified of the outcome. Dean had been avoiding the question for years but Mary had no reason to lie about it unless the outcome was worse than expected. Either way, Ben knew he was getting burned.

“How sure are you about your version of what happened?” Ben asked, anxiety creeping into his voice.

“I would stake our entire friendship on it.”

“I’m coming over.” Ben finally said. “Someone is lying to me and I need the truth.”

With the finality of the sentence hanging heavy in the air, Claire and Ben turned in the direction of home. The walk was quiet, pensive, each lost in their own labyrinth of thoughts.

Ben was sure Dean wanted to talk about his mom and part of him knew he should just see Dean right away but the other part of him fought against that. If Mary had really lied straight to his face, what was to stop Dean from doing it? Dean had the most skin in the game and had already been avoiding the topic so adding one more lie to the pile really wouldn’t be that surprising. Claire, at the very least, seemed like she wanted to help and that was more than he’d bene given in the last fifteen years.

On the other hand, Claire was stuck in the same debate she had been stuck in for the past week. She wanted Ben to know the truth, knew he deserved to know, but knew the fallout was going to be nuclear. Regardless of what happened, it would probably destroy at least two relationships and while that thought mildly thrilled her, the fact it was Ben at the center scared her. She liked Ben, valued his friendship, and this had the potential to destroy that. There was no good outcome and already she was wishing she’d never pushed him into snooping in the first place.

When they reached their houses, Ben stopped and turned to Claire. “I’m just gonna tell my dad that we’re hanging out first and then I’ll be over. I don’t wanna leave him hanging, not after how nervous he looked this morning.”

“See you soon.” Claire said, turning towards her place.

Dean was home, just like he said he would be, and Ben felt anxiety spike through him when he caught a glimpse of Dean in the kitchen. Dean was pacing back and forth, brows knit together and hands wringing as he obviously mulled over whatever was on his mind. The last time Dean had paced like that had been when he’d told Ben they were moving and that had gone over about as well as a lead balloon.

“Hey dad...” Ben said as he made his way into the kitchen approaching cautiously.

Dean glanced up, deer in the headlights as his gaze met Ben’s. “How was class?”

Ben shrugged, wary of Dean’s tone. “Fine, I guess. Still the first week so everything is chill except for English. We’ve kind of got a project and I told Claire I’d come over and start it with her. I just wanted to let you know.”

“Can it wait until tomorrow? We really need to talk.”

Ben, who already felt bad for lying to Dean about the project, felt his heart drop into his stomach. Dean was never so insistent.

“She seems really freaked out about the project and she really wants to start. She’s got everyone else in the group coming over too and they’re really busy so I don’t really wanna cancel. Can we talk when I get back?”

“Sure, that’s fine. Just try to be quick if you can.”

Ben nodded his head and turned on his heels, walking out before Dean could change his mind. He was beyond concerned now, the pacing and the insistence worming their way into his brain. The only thing that made sense for Dean to be so antsy about was his mom, unless he had some other life altering secret stashed away in a second shoebox buried in the closet.

He said a quick hello to Cas when he walked past him on the way inside and made his way up to Claire’s room. Any other time he would’ve been thrilled to be in her room but each step up the stairs filled him with mounting dread. Claire was sat on her bed when Ben finally made it inside and she glanced up, trying to hide the nervousness on her own face.

“Your dad let you out then. That’s good.”

“Kind of lied to him about a group project so if he asks we have an English project and everyone was over at your place today.”

“Lying to authority, sounds like fun.” Claire mumbled, scooting over so Ben could join her on the bed. “I need to make sure you’re really okay with what I’m going to show you. It’s not great and I really don’t wanna make you upset but I know this is gonna.”

“Considering I don’t trust my family not to lie to me about this, yeah I need to know. At the very least I know you won’t lie to me about this.”

“That’s a lot of trust for someone you met like threeish months ago.” Claire said nervously.

“You’re blunt and direct and actually seem like you care so it’s fine I guess. Now show me, please.”

Claire took a deep breath before she handed her laptop over to Ben. There were two tabs open: one, a document with all of her notes and her process for trying to find Lisa and the second, a facebook profile. “She’s got a facebook profile and it was active as of yesterday. Just take a look at it.”

The profile listed her as Lisa Braeden and the profile photo looked similar to the photos he had seen in the shoebox, just several years older. He peered closer at the screen, scrolling through the available information. She lived close it told him, a few towns over and it looked like she owned and operated a yoga studio with a few other women. He’d never pictured his mother as an athletic woman before.

The posts and photos were what caught Ben’s attention next. He started at the newest, scrolling through the comments from all of her facebook friends congratulating her on a decade and a half of success with her studio. What followed felt a bit too stereotypical, posts of pets and sunsets and reposts of friends’ accomplishments and milestones. She had an active rich life and the more Ben scrolled, the worse he began to feel. She was successful and friendly and was living well. Why couldn’t she have had that with him and Dean? What was so bad about them that she had to leave?

As he scrolled further down, Claire began to fidget beside him. It started small at first, twisting the gemstone bracelets on her wrist but soon became fidgeting with her hair and then shifting her foot back and forth. Eventually she reached out, hand on Ben’s knee to get his attention.

“I think you should stop scrolling.”

Ben paused, glancing over at her. She was sweating, little drops beading on her forehead, and her hands were red from the wringing. The sight of it made him more nervous but stoked the fire of curiosity in him too. “Why?”

“Because I know what’s coming next and I- it’s just better if you don’t look. You know she’s alive, do you really need to know more?”

“Of course I need to know more.” Ben said, setting the laptop down and turning to face her. “I need to know why she left, I need to know what my dad did to make her leave. And you of all people should want me to know. You offered to help find her, you helped me snoop through his shit, you did all this work to find her. It doesn’t make sense that you don’t want me to look.”

“I don’t want your heart to break.”

That final comment sealed Ben’s fate, pushing him over the edge. He needed to know now, needed the answer before the empty mom shaped hole in his heart consumed him. Turning back to the computer and ignoring Claire who now looked like she wanted to jump off the face of the earth, he came across the photo.

There was Lisa, hair piled into an updo with a pearl pin holding it and a veil in place. She was in a white dress, lacy sleeves and sleek design showing off her athletic body. There was a man beside her, donned in a suit, with his arms wrapped around her and a ring on his finger. But that wasn’t what gave Ben pause. What gave Ben pause was the four year old boy standing in between the pair, beaming at the camera as he proudly hugged his stuffed animal to his chest.

He scrolled down to the caption, desperate to read it.

Today I married the love of my life. Words cannot express how much I love him and our son. I’m so grateful I can be a wife and a mother and experience the joys that life brings. Being a mother is something I was always called to do and the universe saw fit to give me my son and this incredible man.

Ben clenched his hands into fists to stop them from shaking but was unable to stop the quivering of his lips. His mind was racing as he tried to figure out a timeline, staring at the date of the post and then scrolling back up to try and find more. He found a post about a tenth birthday and then a fourteenth and nothing further, working the dates back in his head. When he thought he’d found an answer, he scrolled further down in the timeline to confirm it.

There was a post, buried deep in her profile, of Lisa in a hospital bed with a baby. It was dated November 24^th, the year after he had been born. Ben stared at the post and the date, the confirmation he was seeking staring him straight in the face. All Ben could do was stare, hands laying in his lap. His eyes were burning and he swallowed his throat ached, as if something were caught in it. None of that covered the roiling in his stomach or the sudden light headedness he found himself fighting.

It was too much.

Claire reached out and took the laptop away, shutting it down and setting it aside before turning back to Ben. She didn’t know what to do or how to approach him so she gently reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Ben?” She whispered, voice rife with concern.

Ben flinched away from her, eyes glassy as he stared at her wall.

“Talk to me, please.” She said, withdrawing her hand. “Tell me what you’re thinking. I know this isn’t easy, there’s no way it is.”

The uncomfortable silence stretched out into an agonizing silence, broken after fifteen minutes when Ben finally looked at Claire. His face was impassive, a neutral expression Claire couldn’t read, but his eyes told her everything. There was no mistaking the pain and hurt in the glassiness of them, no mistaking the way he was holding back tears.

“Thanks for finding this.” He mumbled, words sticking in his throat. “Guess I know the truth now.”

Claire’s frown deepened. She wanted to hug him, to comfort him, but she didn’t. Deep down she knew she’d caused this, that he wouldn’t be in this position if she hadn’t encouraged him to look for answers. She watched as he pulled himself to his feet, movements jerky as if he were on autopilot.

“I’m uh, I’m gonna go home now.”

Claire tried to protest but Ben was moving before she could, out of her room by the time the first word left her mouth. All she did was lay down on her bed and stare at the ceiling, forced to reconcile what she had done.

Ben walked home in a daze, barely aware of his surroundings or of his own body. Dean was in the living room, stretched out on the couch with a book that he was barely paying attention to. He sat up when he heard Ben come in, immediately concerned by the look on Ben’s face. “How was the project?”

“It was fine. Claire’s freaking out over nothing.” Ben shrugged.

“That’s good, I guess. Now come sit, it’s time we talk.”

Try as he might, Ben couldn’t bring himself to move his body over to the couch and sit down. “I’m really tired tonight, dad. Can we talk tomorrow?”

“Are you okay? You seem off.”

“I’m just tired.” Ben sighed. “Can we please just talk tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

Ben mumbled a quiet thank you before turning and making a beeline for his room. He closed his door and collapsed onto his bed, ready to cry the tears he’d been holding back. But they didn’t come and all that did was make him feel worse. Ben lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling, thoughts running through his head and strangling all of his emotions until eventually a restless sleep overtook him.

~

Cas woke with a start when he felt a presence in his doorway, groggily turning in his bed to check the time. The clock read 2 am and he grumbled under his breath, shifting to sit so he could see which of his kids was about to ruin his sleep. Flicking the bedside lamp on, he came face to face with Claire.

She looked rough, eyes glassy and puffy as if she had been crying. Her face was splotchy and mascara stained her cheeks as if she were the world’s largest humanoid raccoon. She’d put on a sweater she had stolen from Cas a few months ago, a sweater she’d affectionately dubbed ‘the depression hoodie’ that only came out in select circumstances.

Without so much as a word Claire shuffled into his room and crawled into the bed, climbing into his lap and wrapping her arms around him like she had when she was a child. She buried her face in his shoulder, breathing shakily.

Cas frowned and readjusted, wrapping his arms around her. Claire was never affectionate and she never sought anything like this out, not unless something was seriously wrong. The last time she’d done this had been when she’d been in a world ending fight with a friend and that had been almost four years ago.

“Hey, what’s going on Clairebear?” He murmured, rubbing her back when he felt her begin to cry.

“I fucked up, dad.”

Chapter Text

“What do you mean you fucked up?” Cas asked, shifting to take the strain off of his lower back. His arms were still around Claire, hand still rubbing slow small circles into her back.

Claire, tears still dripping from her eyes and onto Cas’ shirt, tried to explain but all that came out was a choked noise. It shocked her and her shoulders began to shake again as she tried to get enough air to be able to explain. Eventually the words came out, a miserable mix of barely discernable English.

“I told him about his mom.”

“Told who about their mom?”

“Ben.”

Cas’ heart jolted before dropping into his stomach, mind racing back to the midnight conversation he’d had with Dean. He didn’t know all the details but he knew enough from what Dean had said to have a pretty good idea. That pretty good idea was not the kind of thing teenagers should be sharing either.

“You’re going to have to explain what happened.” Cas said, trying to keep his tone as understanding as possible despite his immediate alarm. “I’m not a mind reader and I don’t really know what’s going on.”

Claire wiped at her eyes, still sniffling. She didn’t want to tell him, she knew he’d be pissed, but she’d already put her foot in her mouth and there was no going back now.

“Remember when Ben made a dating profile for Dean?”

“I remember Dean’s dates being incredibly unsuccessful.”

“Well there was a picture Ben found when he was making the profile. He thought it might be his mom but he wasn’t sure and he didn’t really wanna ask his dad about it because he was kind of scared of how his dad would react. So I did a thing.”

Cas nodded his head, fighting the urge to comment. It was better to wait until Claire explained everything before he made a judgment.

“You remember when I was ten and wanted to know why it was just you and there was no mom?”

Cas couldn’t stop himself from speaking, his tone firm and tinged with disbelief. “Claire, you didn’t…”

“I didn’t think we’d actually find anything. But we did, well I did.”

“How did you find things?”

“We snooped.” Claire admitted, shame plastered across her face. She climbed off of Cas’ lap to sit beside him, terrified of his reaction. “Found a shoebox with pictures in it. There were pictures of his mom, one of them had a name.”

“Is ‘we’ just you and Ben?”

Claire nodded her head, lying to protect Jack. They didn’t deserve to be dragged into this, not when they hadn’t wanted to be involved in the first place.

“Okay, go on. I know there’s a lot more than you’re telling me.”

Claire swallowed thickly, wringing her hands together as she continued. “One of the pictures had her full name on it and I offered to find her online. I only offered because Ben said his dad has never told him and probably wouldn’t ever tell him because of what happened.”

“Evidently you found her.”

“Yeah. Ben told me that his grandma told him that she’s dead and he seemed really upset but that was a lie and I told him as much. I told him I had answers if he wanted them and he did so that’s why he came over yesterday.”

“What did you find out about her?” Cas asked. He didn’t really want to know, it wasn’t his place, but he needed the context of the situation. That and knowing what had actually happened, even though he already had a sneaking suspicion, might make it easier for him and Dean to speak candidly.

“She’s alive, lives a couple towns over, is married, and has a fourteen year old son.”

Cas bit back a curse of surprise, trying to maintain his neutral expression. He’d known it was bad, Dean had alluded as much, but that was worse than he’d expected. An absentee mother was one thing, but an absentee mother who now had a husband and a son was something else entirely. The wound ran deep, no wonder Dean hadn’t wanted to say anything.

“So you told Ben all of this yesterday.”

Claire nodded. “I think I ruined his life.”

“Why would you volunteer to do this? That’s what I don’t understand.”

“He deserves to know about his other parent, that’s why. Jack and I know and we’re perfectly fine. I just- I wanted him to know so he could move on and let it go. I’d want to know my mom if I could. I think his dad needs to be open like you are.”

Cas sighed, sliding from the bed to get up and pace. His mind was racing and frustration and anger at Claire were tinging his vision. He wanted to lose his cool and berate her for what she did, he was well within his right to do so, but all that would do would cause more problems.

“Claire, not every parent is going to be as open with their kids about things like I am with you and Jack. Especially something like that. You do realize that by showing Ben the truth about his mother that you effectively just shoved it in his face that not only did she not want him or his father, but that she never really loved either of them and was able to immediately move on and get a do over.”

“I didn’t think about it like that.”

“That’s your problem, Claire, you don’t think. You just act.” Cas sighed. It was time he allowed himself to be honest with Claire and if that meant being a parent and being the bad guy, so be it. “You had no right to insert yourself into that situation and you had no right to go snooping through someone else’s belongings. You do realize that is borderline a crime, right?”

“I just wanted to help!” She replied defensively.

“You don’t help by snooping and spilling secrets that aren’t yours to spill. You help by being a shoulder to cry on and offering advice, not by what you did. Aside from the fact you’ve just ruined any image Ben had of his mother, you’ve likely completely destroyed any trust he has in his father as well.”

“You would’ve done the same thing!”

“No, I wouldn’t have.” Cas said simply, the firm tone in his voice tipping into frustrated territory. “I spoke to Ben’s father about this a few weeks ago, if you really want to know, and all I did was listen and give advice. I didn’t insert myself or snoop or anything like that and it worked fine.”

“So I’m a bad person then.” She muttered, arms crossed over her chest.

“I never said that.”

“You don’t have to, it’s context clues dad.”

Cas exhaled slowly, trying to keep the rising anger at bay. This was not going to turn into a yelling match, he refused to allow it. “I appreciate that you told me about what’s happening but what’s happening is wrong and didn’t need to happen. I don’t like being the bad guy but actions have consequences Claire and you’re going to have to deal with them.”

“Destroying a relationship isn’t consequence enough for you?”

“No it isn’t. You’re not going to learn unless you have real consequences and given how serious this is, it can’t just be a slap on the wrist.”

Claire, raised an eyebrow, almost challenging Cas to do his worst. He wasn’t being sympathetic and it pissed her off. She knew she screwed up but this didn’t seem fair, not when she was obviously going to lose Ben as a friend as a result. Cas turned on his heel and walked out of his room and Claire followed him, anxiety leaping into her throat. He was on a mission and she didn’t like that.

“Your phone, gone.” He said as he took her phone from her desk. “Your social media, deleted. Any outings with friends you had planned are cancelled now and no friends over here. Yes, that includes Kaia. It’s school and home and that’s it for you.”

“For how long?!”

“Until I say so.” Cas replied. “And I’m not finished. When morning comes around you and I are marching your ass next door and you’re telling Dean exactly what you did.”

Claire began to protest but Cas cut her off, the look her gave her telling her now was not the time to pull any stunts.

“I don’t give a fuck that you don’t like this and you don’t want to do it. You’re going to do it because I said so. So sit and stew and we will deal with the rest of this in the morning. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Good.”

With that, Cas left Claire in her room to sit and think. He returned to bed but knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, mind busy running with the consequences of Claire’s decision.

Try as he might, Dean couldn’t sleep. He’d spent all of Friday running over exactly what he was going to tell Ben when it came to Lisa and the events surrounding her departure from their lives. The truth was the best option but that felt too hard to do and lying had been what had gotten him to where he was today so that wasn’t really an option either. Dean thought about easing Ben into it but didn’t know how to even go about it.

He gave up on sleep at one in the morning and made his way to the shop instead, deciding to at least be productive if he wasn’t able to rest. Garth and Bess’ crib was his current project and he got right to work on it, very carefully disassembling it. As he did so, Dean allowed himself to reminisce.

Dean sat on the floor of his bedroom, printed instructions unfolded in front of him and pieces of wood strewn around him. He’d been at it for the better part of an hour, struggling to find the screw he needed to connect the base pieces together and move on with his life. Footsteps echoed in the hallway and he glanced up to see Lisa, nearly ready to burst at that point.

“It’s almost been an hour, how are you not done yet?” She asked, tone flat. “This is supposed to be easy to assemble.”

“It would be easier to assemble if the instructions were in English but somehow they’re misprinted and I can’t read French.” Dean sighed. “But I can figure it out, just need to find a screw. I wouldn’t mind some help looking for it?”

“I can’t reach the floor thanks to you.”

Dean shrugged and returned to looking for the screw. Lisa had been snapping at him for the better part of three months and he attributed it to the pregnancy. He’d heard it was part of the deal and who was he to question it. It wasn’t like he was the one who was pregnant.

“Did you ever hear back from the trade school?” She asked.

“Yeah, I got in. I start in September.”

“Good. Someone’s going to have to help provide for this kid.”

Dean tilted his head, perturbed by her tone. Something in it felt off but he couldn’t quite place why. “I mean you’re working too and I’m pretty sure the mat leave pay should cover some of it. We’ll make enough to get through it, especially with my mom willing to help out with child care.”

“Well let me know when you’re done with this and then we can figure the other stuff out. Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I won’t, I promise. Love you.”

Lisa didn’t reply, retreating silently.

“Hindsight’s one of those funny things.” Dean mumbled to himself as he worked on the crib, allowing the ache in his heart to exist. By Ben’s birth Lisa had checked out of their relationship and while he’d noticed, he’d tried to play ignorant as long as possible. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be touched by him or that she didn’t love him, it was just that she was tired from being pregnant and a little scatterbrained. She wasn’t avoiding him, she was just doing what she could to maintain her independence. There’d be less of that with a baby after all.

As Dean slathered the disassembled pieces in stripper to remove the ancient varnish, something across the way caught his eye. There was a light on in the Novak’s house and someone was awake. He couldn’t see much from where he was but made out the blurry shape of a figure crossing the window before vanishing. The figure looked too small to be Cas but he couldn’t be sure. He’d have to ask him about it the next day.

For the better part of the night, Dean worked on the crib and mulled over the events of his life. It was hard to place the blame on anyone else but himself for where he’d ended up. By the time eight am rolled around Dean had worked himself up into a suitably foul mood, a mix of anxiety, bitterness, and anger roiling in his stomach as he made his way inside. He made his coffee stronger than necessary, sipping on the oil fuel as he psyched himself yet again.

The anxiety only worsened when Ben made his appearance at nine, shuffling into the kitchen like a teenaged zombie. There were bags under his eyes and a general malaise that concerned Dean. Ben didn’t seem like himself as he reached for the strong coffee, quiet as he drank it without his usual protest.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Dean asked Ben, concerned.

“About as much as you did.” He replied quietly, voice unusually soft.

Dean nodded, unsure of where to go from there. He settled for drinking his coffee in the uncomfortable silence, keeping an eye on Ben. Something had happened yesterday and whatever it was, it was bothering Ben. Half a cup of coffee later and Ben was staring at Dean, making direct eye contact as he broke the silence.

“Why don’t you talk about mom?”

Dean choked on his coffee, nearly missing the counter as he set the mug down and coughed into his elbow. There was no pretense, no awkward questions, just straight to the point. It was the last thing he’d expected and while he it was what he wanted to tell Ben, it still felt wrong to be bringing it up.

“That’s complicated.” Dean admitted, unsure of what to do. This was the opening he needed, the one chance he could use to tell Ben everything, but now that the opportunity was there Dean was falling flat. He tried to bring it up but the words lodged in his throat and all he could do was take another sip of coffee.

“I asked grandma about her. She told me everything.”

Dean swallowed thickly, hands shaking. He downed the rest of his coffee in a few gulps and set the mug down so he wouldn’t drop it. Now was the time to be honest. As he gathered his thoughts, Ben spoke again.

“I’m almost sixteen, you could’ve told me she was dead. I can handle that.”

Dean’s eyes bugged out of his head, his heart rate spiking and sending him into a dizzy spell. He leaned against the kitchen counter to steady himself, staring at Ben. There was absolutely no way Ben had just said what he thought he’d said. Trying to rationalize the statement would be futile.

“She told you she was dead. Am I hearing that right?”

Ben nodded his head. He knew Lisa wasn’t dead but Dean didn’t know that and he needed to see if his dad would lie to him or not. Part of Ben knew it was cruel to do that but he wanted the truth and knew someone was going to get hurt regardless. Better the hurt came right out of the gate.

“She’s not dead.” Dean admitted, scrubbing a hand over his face. It was the first honest thing he’d ever told Ben about Lisa. Not that the honesty was helpful. “Not that I’m aware of anyway. Why the fuck would she tell you something like that? This just- god that just made this so much harder.”

“Lying runs in the family I guess.” Ben replied, still staring at Dean. This was more of an admission than he’d been expecting without a fight and he wanted to know more. Pushing Dean probably wouldn’t end well but the desire for the truth overrode any common sense/

“I had this whole thing figured out yesterday and then you left and fuck this is ridiculous. I just- I don’t… There’s no good place to start. There’s no world where this fucking ends well.”

“Start with the truth, how about that? If she’s not dead then tell me what she actually is, where she actually is.”

“She left, that’s the truth.” Dean said, throwing his hands up in the air in defeat. It hurt to speak now, words sticking in his throat. He knew he’d end up in tears before the morning was over. “She just up and left.”

“There has to be more than that. She wouldn’t just leave.”

“We were 18 and you weren’t planned, let’s start there. It’s not like we sat down one day and decided that we were ready to have a kid. You just happened.”

“So I was a mistake.”

Dean’s response was quick, firm. “No. You were an accident but not a mistake, never a mistake.”

“Okay so I wasn’t planned, fine. You could’ve chosen not to have me. None of this explains why she left.”

“We didn’t know until it was too late to do anything, Besides, she didn’t believe in that kind of thing and it wouldn’t have been my place to say anything anyway.” Dean said. He pushed away from the counter, taking a seat at the kitchen table but making sure to leave space between himself and Ben. The words still lodged in his throat and his eyes were burning now. “I don’t know why she left, that’s the honest truth.”

Ben’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t believe Dean, not after the years of denial and avoidance. You didn’t avoid something for 15 years just because you didn’t know why it happened. It didn’t take a genius to know why and the picture of Lisa in the wedding dress flashed behind Ben’s eyes, inciting a train of thought he intended to ride. He pressed Dean.

“That’s such bullshit, you totally know why. You know exactly why she’s married with a kid now, so just tell me.”

The blood drained from Dean’s face, eyes so wide the air burned them. He swore he hadn’t heard Ben correctly, that the sudden hammering of his heart made him mishear. Dean’s hands were shaking now and he had to press them flat against the kitchen table to try and steady them. He tried to ask Ben to elaborate but couldn’t find the words, staring at him.

Ben stared back at Dean, mind silent save for a singular thought: he had fucked up. There were tears in Dean’s eyes now and a tremble in his lip that Ben had never seen before. Dean didn’t know about the marriage and the kid. That much was abundantly clear. Ben tried to backtrack, to act like he hadn’t just said what he’d said but Dean wasn’t going to let it go.

“How would you know she’s married with a kid? I never even- you don’t even know her name.”

“It was on one of the photos you gave me when you let me make your dating profile.” Ben said, trying to convince Dean that what he was saying was true. It was manipulative but Ben didn’t care, too far gone in his quest for the truth.  

“No it wasn’t.” Dean said, voice intensifying ever so slightly. “Those photos were digital, not print.”

“There was a name in the corner. I swear to God there was.”

Dean knew exactly what he’d shown Ben and a photo with Lisa’s name in any capacity was not in that list. But clearly Ben had found out somehow and despite the lie Mary had spread, Dean knew his mother wouldn’t have said it. The only remaining answer made Dean sick to his stomach and he stood up, rubbing his fingers against his temples in an effort to control the rage bubbling beneath the surface.

“I know you’re lying to me.” He said tensely, glancing up to make direct eye contact with Ben. His expression was grim, one of barely restrained anger that looked ready to snap. “Tell me where you found her name. Now.”

“We found a shoebox.”

Dean registered the plural but was too distracted by the remainder of the sentence to care. Blood drained from his face, a dizzying anger taking over as he slammed his hands onto the kitchen table. He heard the chair squeal as Ben jumped back but he was too angry to care.

“You snooped through my things. You had no fucking right to do that, Benjamin.”

“You didn’t leave me any choice!”

“Like hell I didn’t. You could’ve fucking asked me and we could’ve had a conversation about it. When you have a question, you ask. What you don’t do is snoop through someone else’s shit without them knowing.”

“I asked you when I was six, when I was eight, and when I was thirteen, and do you remember what I got when I asked?” Ben said, practically leaping to his feet. His voice shook, his body practically vibrating with rage as he unleashed the feelings he’d tried so desperately to bury for years. “I got ‘I don’t want to talk about it, Ben’ and ‘it’s complicated, Ben’ and then I got screamed at. You never tell me anything. It’s your own fault I had to go through your shit for the answer!”

“How the fuck are you supposed to sit down your six, eight, or thirteen year old and tell them that their-“ Dean’s voice broke, rage morphing into a choked noise as he felt the hot tears finally begin to slide down his cheeks, “that their mother didn’t fucking want them.”

Ben stared at Dean, heart in his stomach. He’d never seen Dean cry. And the words, the dreaded fucking words he knew deep down in his heart were true, were out in the open. Ben tried to say something, anything, but nothing came out. Dean continued on, still crying.

“I tried, I tried so fucking hard to get her to stay. I begged and I pleaded but it didn’t fucking matter. She didn’t want me and she didn’t want you.”

“You’re lying!” Ben burst out, emotions blinding him like the tears in his eyes. “You did something to her and that’s why she left!

Dean’s shoulders sagged, anguish deflating his anger like an untied balloon. His eyes burned and his throat ached, the words he was trying to say lodged firmly. Wiping away the tears only made it worse and the longer he stood there in silence, the more upset Ben grew.

“Say something!” He yelled, hands balled into fists. “Tell me what you fucking did! I deserve to know why you drove her away and why she didn’t take me with her!”

“All I did was love her, love you.”

“You didn’t love her enough. You should’ve fought for her, made her stay!”

Dean swallowed thickly, too worn down to retort. Not that it mattered as the memory of Lisa forced its way to the forefront of his mind.

Dean paced outside the hospital room, an aimless path back and forth as he searched for a destination he’d never find. Lisa had been in the room for hours and despite his desperate desire to be there with her, to support her and experience the birth of his kid, Lisa had denied him entry. Nerves, she had said, claiming Dean being there only spiked her anxiety and would make the birth harder than it needed to be. He hadn’t believed her but he wanted it to be the way she wanted so he stayed away.

“First time huh?” Asked a man sitting in a chair, drawing Dean’s attention.

“Yeah, first time. You?”

The man shook his head. “Third.”

“Wow, that’s kind of impressive. Does it get easier?”

“Eventually, yeah. My advice: Listen to your wife and pick up the household slack. She’ll be so burnt out from having and taking care of the baby she won’t have the time or strength for anything else.”

Dean thanked the man and resumed his pacing, doing so until he was finally called for. His heart raced in his chest as he stepped into the room, beyond excited to meet his baby. Lisa sat in the bed with the baby in her arms, sweaty hair plastered to her forehead. She heard the footsteps and glanced up, practically shoving the baby in Dean’s arms when she realized it was him.

“Hold your son.” She said, laying back in the bed once her arms were free.

“I can’t believe we have a son.”

“You do have a son. His name is Benjamin.”

Dean paused, glancing over to Lisa. They’d talked about names but Benjamin wasn’t the one they’d settled on. It was the name Dean liked but Lisa had hated it, had gone so far as to claim that she would never name her son that. It didn’t make sense to Dean but he didn’t think too hard about it, too busy staring at the little human in his arms.

The pair stood there in silence for several minutes, Dean staring at Ben and Lisa closing her eyes to rest. It was only when Ben was taken by the nurses that Dean turned back to Lisa, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching for her hand. She let him take it but there was tension in the way she held herself, tension Dean noticed but tried to ignore.

“I have something I want to ask you.” He said, voice soft. The ring was burning a hole in his pocket as he spoke. He’d been waiting for the perfect moment to ask her and now seemed like the time.

Lisa shook her head, pulling her hand away from Dean’s. “Not now, okay? I’m really tired and I need to rest. We can talk about it when Ben and I are ready to come home from being here.”

“Okay. Do you want me to stay?”

“No.”

When Dean returned a few days later to pick up Lisa and Ben form the hospital, he was pulled aside by a nurse before he could enter the room. She was an older woman with a kind face and the expression she wore gave Dean pause.

“There’s something you need to know, hon.” She said, voice soft and southern and comforting. “I really think you should sit down.”

“I really just want to get my girlfriend and son and get out of here.”

The nurse, knowing he would find out one way or another, simply led Dean to the room Lisa had been in. She was gone, everything cleared away, and a single letter with his name written neatly on the front of the envelope greeted him. Dean approached gingerly, examining the envelope before the nurse cleared her throat to get his attention.

“She’s not coming back, if that’s what you’re wondering. She signed away her rights, told us to let you know you’re on your own if you still want your son.”

The longer Dean stood in silence, the worse Ben felt. Dean wasn’t even trying to defend himself or his actions and it hurt. He hadn’t fought for Lisa and now he wasn’t fighting for himself or for Ben.

“You can’t make someone stay if they don’t want to, Ben.” Dean said, weary. “I’ve spent your entire life trying to make up for the fact that she’ll never be there for you. I don’t know what else you expect me to do.”

“Treat me like an adult, that’s what I want. Lying to me about this wasn’t protecting me, it was selfish! Because now I have to deal with the fact that she didn’t want you and I’m stuck without her because of it. But I guess that’s a pattern with you, driving people away. First it was mom and then grandma and my uncle and Charlie-“

Dean interrupted him, voice sharp. “That is not fair and you know it. I have no control over whether or not people choose to stay or go! I’ve tried so fucking hard to be there for you, to give you everything, to make sure you know you’re loved because you are! You’re my kid and I love you and that has to count for something.”

“You don’t hide things from the people you love.”

Dean began to reply but the ring of the doorbell interrupted, ringing through the house and shocking a new wave of tears from his eyes. He stared at Ben, then the door, and then back at Ben. Dean didn’t plan on answering it but it rang again and then Ben was gesturing towards the door.

“Answer it, dad. Give yourself some more time to come up with lies.”

“We’re not done talking.” Dean said as he turned on his heels. He wiped at his eyes before he pulled the door open.

Cas and Claire stood on the other side and Dean blinked slowly, hit by a different wall of emotions. Claire looked like she had been crying, puffy eyes matching the expression that told Dean she’d rather be anywhere else in the world. Cas looked pissed as he looked at Claire, expression shifting to concern when he got a good look at Dean.

“Now’s really not a good time.” Dean mumbled, trying to blink the water in his eyes. He could hear Ben make his way into the hallway but chose to ignore it.

“I promise you’ll want to hear this.” Cas said, pushing Claire a few steps forward. “Tell him what you did.”

Claire looked at Dean as if someone had put the fear of God in her before, in a voice so quiet it was barely discernible, she told Dean what she had done. “I went through your things and helped Ben find his mom.”

Dean stared at her. “I’m sorry, you what?”

“I went through your things and helped Ben find his mom.”

Blinding anger roared through Dean but he swallowed it down, eyes burning as he stared daggers at Cas. “Did you know about this?”

“She told me at 2 am, so not until today.”

“I think you need to supervise your fucking kid a bit more.” Dean muttered before turning his attention back to Claire. “And you, you stay the fuck away from my kid. I don’t want you near him after the shit you’ve pulled.”

Cas nodded his head, a silent acceptance of what he knew was coming. His hand was tight on Claire’s shoulder as he held her in place, guilt roaring inside him. What he was guilty about, he wasn’t entirely sure.

“You can’t fucking do that!” Ben protested suddenly behind Dean. “She’s the only one who cared enough to help me find the truth!”

“Consequences, Ben. She went through my things with you and you both lied to me. Like it or not, you’re stuck with the results of your actions. I don’t want, you know what, I forbid you from seeing her.”

Ben stared wide eyed at Dean before he yelled the first words that came to his mind. “I hate you. I wish you’d left instead of mom.”

Dean watched, numb and in shock as Ben turned and ran up the stairs. The slam of his door shook the entire house and shook Dean back into action. He turned back to the Novak’s, unable to hide the fact he was crying or that his shoulders were shaking as he held back sobs.

“I’ll keep her away from him. She’s got her own punishment to deal with.” Cas said. “Dean, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I’m here if you need me.”

Without a word, Dean closed the door in Cas’ face.

A million thoughts ran through his head and clouded his mind as he pressed his back to the door. He was swimming through a sea of emotions, a thick haze obscuring his vision, and he barely registered grabbing his phone or dialing a number. It was only when the voice on the other end echoed in his ear that he clued back into reality.

“Dean? How are you, sweetheart?”

Dean’s voice shook in time with his hand. “Why the fuck would you tell him she was dead?”

The guilty silence on the other end told Dean everything he needed to know and he hung up without another word. He was reacting again, a faint muscle memory returning to him. Searching for another number, he called again.

Charlie picked up, voice chipper. “Dean, hey! What’s up?”

Charlie’s tone was the straw that broke the camel’s back. There was silence as a choked sob worked its way up and out of Dean’s throat, echoing in the empty hallway. He couldn’t stop them once they started, sob after sob echoing into the phone. Panicked rustling and jangling keys filled up the silence in between the sobs before Charlie spoke again.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

The call ended and Dean made his way to the living room, leaving the front door unlocked. Curling up on the couch, knees hugged to his chest, Dean let everything out. He sobbed and sobbed, huge heaving gasps for air forced when he couldn’t breathe any more. Ben knew the truth now and it had ruined their relationship.

The front door opened and Charlie was stepping inside, a basket in her arms. She heard the sobs before she saw Dean, making her way into the living room. When she saw the way he curled in on himself, she simply dropped the basket and leapt onto the couch, wrapping her arms around him. She didn’t ask him what was wrong because she didn’t have to. There was only one person who had ever made him sob like this.

She stay there for a while, rubbing Dean’s back and assuring him that she was there and that she wasn’t going anywhere. It was only when Dean ran out of tears to cry that he pulled away, looking at her with red puffy eyes and an expression of hopelessness.

“Charlie, I don’t know what to do.”

Chapter Text

“I want you to take deep breaths for right now, okay? I’m gonna make some honey lemon tea for you because your voice is shot and when I come back we can talk about what happened. Sound good?”

Dean nodded his head, sinking into the couch cushions as Charlie made her way into the kitchen. He stared at his reflection in the tv, blinking at the mess in front of him. Shot voice and puffy face aside, Dean had never seen himself look so utterly defeated before. None of it even touched the black hole where his heart used to be.

“It’s hot so be careful.” Charlie said as she set the mug of tea down on the coffee table. “Where’s Ben?”

“Upstairs with the cat. Don’t talk to him, let him be.”

“So he knows about Lisa then.”

Dean nodded again before reaching for the mug of tea, holding it tightly to dampen the shaking that had returned to his hands. “It got so fucked up but it wasn’t my fault and I just- it’s really bad.”

“Well I mean he knows that she left so how much worse can it be?”

Dean laughed bitterly, swallowing a few sips of tea before setting the mug down. It was nice to see that Charlie was still optimistic after all of these years but this wasn’t the time for optimism.

“He said he wished I’d left instead of Lisa, for one.”

Charlie winced.

“Oh it gets better. Turns out my mother lied and told him Lisa was dead.”

“Why the fuck would she say that?”

“No clue. There’s also the part where Ben and the neighbour girl snooped through my belongings to find out information about Lisa and then found her online. Turns out she’s married and has a kid which good for her but I really did not need to learn that today.”

“You really did have a shit day, damn. What can I do to help you out?”

Dean thought for a moment before shrugging, giving up and leaning against her. “I’m not speaking to my mother and my kid’s not speaking to me so nothing there. You’re already here and listening and I think that’s all I really need. I just- I feel like this could’ve been prevented.”

“If you told him earlier, then yeah it could’ve.” She replied, holding up a hand when Dean tried to interrupt. “But I also know how painful that entire ordeal was for you so I get why you didn’t want to tell him. There was never going to be a good outcome no matter when you told him or how you did it.”

“I hate when you’re right.”

“Everyone does.”

The pair sat there in silence for several minutes as Dean finished his tea. Charlie ran her fingers through his hair, an unconscious calming gesture she’d picked up after years of being Dean’s friend. The man’s love language was physical affection and clearly he needed some love.

“Remember the neighbour I told you about?”

“The one who gave you advice about the whole Lisa situation? Yeah, I remember the whole three minute conversation we had about him. Why?”

“It’s his kid that did the snooping and it’s worse because I’m pretty sure Ben has a crush on her and Cas and I have pretty much mutually forbidden them from seeing each other because of the massive invasion of privacy. Also Cas 100% saw me sobbing which is not great.”

“You’ve Romeo and Julieted your kids, that’s gonna end about as well as drinking in your 30s. But is the neighbour who gives advice seeing you cry really that bad?”

“He’s a man, a weird one, but still a man. I don’t see it going great.”

“You’re overthinking it because you’re upset and stressed. I wouldn’t worry about it, honestly.”

“You sure?”

“Very. Now tell you what, I can’t stay all day but I can stay for a while longer. I’m gonna raid your fridge and cook you something for the next few days because you’re in no position to cook right now. I’ve also got your care package which has all the stuff you know you need to relax that you never buy yourself.”

“You don’t have to cook, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Good thing I’m offering and you’re not asking.” She replied, extricating herself from her position on the couch and getting to her feet. “I’m always a call and a text away, don’t forget that. If you need anything, and I do mean anything, please just let me know.”

Dean threw his arms around Charlie in a tight hug. “I love you, Charles. Thank you.”

“Any time, Dean.”

~

Ben had never cried so much in his life.

The second he’d slammed his bedroom door, the tears had finally started. They poured from his eyes, streaming down his cheeks and dripping off of his chin onto the floor. His chest ached with exertion as he tried to swallow the noise with the tears. There was no way in hell he’d let Dean hear him cry.

Ben made it to his bed before the floodgates fully broke and it was only when he’d buried his face in the pillow that he allowed himself to make noise. He screamed and sobbed and cursed into his pillow until he’d screamed himself hoarse. First he screamed at Dean for what he’d done, for driving Lisa away and hiding the truth and being unavailable. He cursed Lisa too, cursed her for leaving and having a new family and outright abandoning them. Ben knew he didn’t deserve that and as pissed as he was at Dean, he knew his dad didn’t deserve it either.

The last person he cursed was himself. He was the common denominator between Dean and Lisa and as he rolled onto his back to stare up at the ceiling, a terrible thought entered his mind. Maybe Dean and Lisa would still be together if he hadn’t been around. He knew, at the very least, that his uncle and Dean would still be talking.

“Am I the problem?” He asked himself out loud, hands resting on his stomach.

There was a meow to his left and then a sudden dip in his pillow as Spork climbed onto it, perching next to his head. A quiet sniffle followed and then Spork put his paw on Ben’s face, looking at it and licking it when it came back wet. Ben’s tears, as it turned out, were tasty and Spork climbed onto the top of Ben’s head so he could lick the tears off of his face.

“Spork, dude.” Ben mumbled as he peeled Spork away from his face. Spork meowed indignantly and immediately returned to his position on Ben’s face, stubbornly licking away the tears. “Okay fine, do what you want.”

Ben lay there without moving a muscle, the warmth and pressure from Spork eventually ushering him into a fitful restless sleep. He didn’t dream, thankfully, but his unconscious mind began to process the events of the day and when he woke himself up at 2 am he was in a suitably foul mood. Knowing sleep was unlikely to happen again, Ben resigned himself to quietly creeping downstairs to make himself a cup of tea. As he make his way down the stairs, he was greeted by the flickering of the tv and immediately tensed. If Dean was awake it meant a confrontation was imminent. But there was no movement, just a dad shaped lump asleep on the couch.

Ben made his way into the kitchen and as quietly as he could, flicked on the kettle and waited for his water to boil. As he leaned against the counter and waited, his feelings began to press back into the periphery of existence. He’d already decided there were no more tears to be shed over the debacle. Tears were pointless and they solved nothing. Replacing the tears was a deep seated anger beginning to bubble.

Tea in hand, Ben stopped by the couch to see if Dean really was asleep. He was, expression of exhaustion outlined by the flickering of the tv as the Maury show played a rerun Ben didn’t care enough to watch.

“This is your fault.” Ben muttered, hoping Dean could feel the glare in his sleep. “Good luck trying to fix this.”

Ben’s anger steeped as he climbed the stairs, boiling over when he was comfortably back in his bed. Careful not to disturb Spork who was sleeping on his pillow, Ben reached for his phone. It was 2 am, the perfect hour to torture himself some more. He pulled up Lisa’s facebook profile and began to scroll, taking his time to read every word on every post to try and get an inkling of the woman.

“Why the new family if you already had one.” He mumbled to himself, stopping on a photo of her son. He looked like her, that is to say he looked very little like Ben who unfortunately looked enough like his father that Mary often called him Dean. This kid, his half-brother Ben thought moodily, looked happy. He was smiling in all of the photos and Ben felt jealousy blooming in his stomach when he came across photos of the entire family looking happy and together. Didn’t he deserve that too?

The longer he stared, the more his frustration snowballed. At 3 in the morning, Ben made a deliberate choice. He opened facebook messenger and sent Lisa a message.

You don’t know me but my name’s Ben and I’m your son. I want to talk to you. Can we meet?

The message was a longshot at best but it was better than doing nothing. If she saw it and they met then he’d have a chance for answers straight from the source and if she didn’t answer, well that was answer enough on her feelings.

With the message sent and the answer uncertain, Ben tried to sleep once again.

~

Claire was losing her mind.

No technology, no friends, and no activities meant all she could do was sit in her room and dive into her hobbies in order to keep herself occupied. Unfortunately, one could only crochet for so many hours or sketch so many portraits before the hobbies lost their appeal and became meaningless.

She refused to talk to Cas after the events of Saturday and had barely left her room, making an appearance for food or water as if she were a skittish cat. It was Sunday morning when Jack decided to check on her, knocking on her door. Claire, who was knee deep in going through her clothing to see if there was anything she wanted to get rid of, turned at the sound.

“Can I come in?” Jack asked, hovering at the threshold. “I have blueberry pancakes as a peace offering.”

Claire shrugged and gestured for Jack to enter before turning away from them to go through the pile of dresses in front of her. Jack entered, setting the plate on Claire’s desk before taking a seat on her bed. “So what’s going on between you and dad? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you two not talk before and I gotta be honest, I really don’t like how tense the entire house is.”

“Remember how we helped Ben look through his dad’s stuff?”

“I remember you coercing me into doing it and being uncomfortable the entire time. Why?”

“Well I found Ben’s mom, told him about her, got guilty, told dad what I did, got in serious shit, and maybe kind of ruined Ben’s relationship with his dad. So that’s why we’re not talking.”

Jack’s eyebrows nearly shot off of their face in disbelief.

“I didn’t tell dad about you being involved, by the way. You didn’t really do anything and I didn’t want you to get in trouble.” Claire added, tossing few dresses into the donate pile.

“Yeah, I uh can see why you and dad wouldn’t be talking.  Explains why Kaia hasn’t come over too. How’d Ben take the news? What was the news?”

“Well Ben and his dad were screaming at each other when dad made me go over and admit what I’ve done so it’s not good. He’s pretty upset and I don’t blame him. Turns out his mom just didn’t want him and has a husband and a kid a year younger than him a few towns over.”

“And you told him that?” Ben mumbled. “That’s horrible, why would you voluntarily tell him that?”

“Because he deserved to know the truth.”

Jack sighed, scrubbing a hand over their face. Part of them wanted to feel bad for Claire but the other part of them didn’t. She’d made her bed and she’d have to lie in it. As if she had sensed Jack’s internal struggle, she turned around to face them. “Looks like you have thoughts. Spill.”

Jack shook their head, suddenly nervous. Claire was too confrontational, particularly when she was upset, and they didn’t want to deal with it.

“I already know you don’t agree with what I did. Just tell me how you feel so I figure out whether or not I have to stop talking to you too.”

“I don’t think we should’ve snooped in the first place but you definitely shouldn’t have told him what you found. It wasn’t your place and you did it for the wrong reasons.”

“Since when is wanting someone to know the truth they deserve to know the wrong reason?” Claire asked defensively.

“We both know you didn’t offer to snoop because you wanted to help. You were curious and wanted to cause chaos because it was entertaining and you were bored. I don’t doubt that part of you wanted to help but the way you did was the most chaotic option possible. You didn’t have to tell him about his mom or share what you found but you did. That’s a choice you made.”

“So I’m just a bad person that thrives on the chaos I cause other people. Glad to know that’s how you really feel.”

Jack sighed, throwing their hands up in the air. “You do this every time someone tells you that you’re not perfect and that you messed up. You’re not a bad person, you just don’t think everything through sometimes. Like you could’ve just listened and told Ben to talk to his dad, you didn’t have to find his mom and tell him about her.”

“You know what, I don’t want to hear this. This is my room and I really don’t want to talk to people who are gonna insult me.”

“I’m here if you wanna talk.” Jack said before they turned and walked out, letting out a breath they hadn’t known they were holding. They made their way back down to the kitchen, stopping beside Cas. “I know why you’re not talking now.”

Cas sighed wearily. “She did it to herself, I can’t just let it slide. She’ll get over it eventually.”

“I’m sure she will. What do you think would happen if I went over to see Ben?”

“I don’t know kiddo. I think we should give them some space but I won’t stop you if you want to go over there and check on him.”

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow, see what’s going on. Is it okay if I go out with friends? The bookstore just got a new Brandon Sanderson in and Eric hasn’t stopped talking about it for like a week.”

Cas waved him off with the usual warning to be careful and have fun before he turned back to his coffee, mind full of thoughts with the whole situation unfolding.

~

The atmosphere in the kitchen was tense when Monday morning rolled around, Dean too nervous to have his morning coffee or eat more than a few bites of burnt bagel. He kept waiting for Ben to make his way downstairs and grab his lunch, praying his son would entertain a few minutes of conversation so they could at least begin to unpack what had happened over the weekend.

Ben came down at the last possible second, looking just as tired as Dean did. He ignored his dad as he grabbed an apple from the counter and then his lunch from the fridge, shoving into his backpack with more force than necessary. Awkward tense silence settled over the kitchen until Ben eventually looked up at Dean. His tone was cold and flat when he spoke.

“I have volleyball practice tonight, I’ll be late getting home.”

Dean snapped to attention, surprised Ben was addressing him. The tone, while uncomfortable, wasn’t unwarranted and Dean resigned himself to it. It’d be the cold shoulder until Ben was ready and that was it.

“I didn’t know you even tried out. Congrats. Do you need a ride home after practice?”

“Nope. I’ve got a teammate who lives close enough.”

“Okay, that’s fine. Think we could ta-“

“Nope. Gotta go, bye.” Ben interrupted, slinging his bag over his shoulder before practically fleeing from Dean to avoid the conversation. The last thing he wanted was to talk to his dad, especially before a Monday at school that was going to be filled with all kinds of awkwardness.

Dean sighed and watched Ben leave, waiting until he was gone before grabbing his own things and leaving for work. He could barely focus during the day, too distracted by his thoughts of the weekend and what was happening. During his lunch, a generous 45 minutes, Dean decided to be productive so he headed home with the work truck and loaded the furniture he had finished for Rowena into the back.

She was just finishing up with a customer when Dean walked into the shop and her smile of greeting quickly turned into an expression of concern, thin mouth frowning. There was a wall of negative energy floating around dean, the scent of misery thick and cloying like trampled hyacinth after a storm. It invaded her nostrils and the beginnings of a headache pricked behind her eyes.

“Something the matter?” Dean asked as he stopped in front of the counter having noticed Rowena’s sudden wince upon his entrance.

“I should be asking you that question. There’s negativity surrounding you, it’s giving me a headache actually. Well that and the fact you look miserable.”

Dean exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I thought I looked fine. Anyways, I’ve got the finished furniture out in the truck. I can bring it in if you’ve got room and time.”

“I’ve got time, it’s been a slow day. I can help with the smaller pieces if you can bring in the bookshelf that I can’t carry.” She said, going to prop the doors open before following Dean to the truck. “You didn’t deny that something’s going on. Do you want to talk about it?”

Dean shook his head before unloading the smaller pieces from the bed, making sure Rowena brought them inside and tucked them out of the way before he wrestled with the bookshelf. By the time he managed to manoeuver it into the shop he was sweating and out of breath, face red as he leaned against the front counter. Rowena, who had disappeared into the back briefly, re-emerged and handed a cup of tea to Dean.

“You seemed thirsty. The blend helps calm nerves too, thought that might what you need.” She said, the expression on her face telling Dean to accept the tea without complaining.

Dean accepted and sipped at it. The flavour was bright, floral, and the warmth felt good on his still raw throat. Truth be told the warmth felt good on his hands too and he could feel the tension beginning to ease. Whether or not that was actually due to the tea or just a placebo effect, he didn’t know.

“You said I have negativity surrounding me. How do you know?”

“Aside from the fact I can see it in your face and the way you carry yourself, there’s an energy around you. It’s not quite an aura, more so a strong feeling and a scent that’s particular. It comes from my being a witch and having that innate ability. Now I won’t pry but I am willing to listen.”

“What does it smell like?”

“Like hyacinth after a storm. It’s cloying, sickly sweet if you will. The scent is particular and quite strong.”

Dean made a noise in the back of his throat. He hadn’t expected misery to smell sweet, or to even have a smell at all. Part of him wanted to deny everything and simply leave but part of him wanted an objective view of the entire situation. Glancing own at his watch to see how much of his lunch break he had left, Dean made a choice.

“To make a long story short, my kid found out through a third party that his mom left us after he was born and that she never wanted him in the first place. He blames me for it, thinks I’m lying about the entire situation, and is now refusing to speak to me.”

“Third party?”

“Claire.” Dean confirmed. “The pair of them went through my things, found his mother, and caused havoc. So my kid hates me, we’re not speaking, and I can’t get my ex out of my head. Pretty pathetic isn’t it.”

“I wouldn’t call it pathetic at all. We’re human, it’s natural to form deep attachments to people, especially if they’re the mother of your child or a friend or any manner of intimate relationship. I’m not surprised Claire is involved. She’s a sweet girl but she thrives on impulsivity and chaos and I don’t think her father quite understands how to deal with it.”

“Oh I agree with you there. My kid’s pissed I won’t let them see each other. Also pissed because he thinks I lied to him and I guess I did to a degree but I just wanted to keep him from getting hurt. Not that it matters much now because he knows the truth. I swear to God his mother is cackling somewhere right now.”

Rowena pursed her lips, intrigued by the mention of Dean’s ex. Her mind was beginning to work and build connections but she wanted more information. That, of course, required pointed questions asked in a sensitive manner.

“It sounds like the breakup between you and your ex was rocky.”

Dean snorted. “Can’t really call it a breakup if you have a kid and then immediately walk out but yeah, we can call it rocky. It’s been almost 16 years and I still can’t stop thinking about her which is really fucking up my ability to move on.”

“So she’s always in the back of your mind then?”

Dean nodded his head. “Yeah. I try and move on but then I just think about her and feel like she’s pulling me back. Like there’s no reason for me to be emotionally or mentally tied to her but I can’t help it. Guess she really did a number on me.”

“I’m very sorry you’ve been experiencing this for as long as you have, it can’t be easy.” Rowena said, pausing to ponder for a moment. “I know you’re skeptical about the witchcraft and that’s completely fine, we’re all entitled to our own opinions and beliefs, but I’d like to offer you something.”

Dean raised an eyebrow.

“I offer something called cord cutting and the very simple explanation of it is that it’s a process or a ritual wherein I help my clients cut ties with people in their lives that have a mental, emotional, spiritual, or physical grip on them that’s causing them pain.”

“And that actually helps?”

“It does. Even if the person doesn’t believe in the spirituality of it, sometimes it’s the act of trying to move forward and sharing it with someone else that gives them the strength to move on from the person they’re attached to. Now it’s not a replacement for therapy or counselling or anything else depending on the situation but it is something that can be done.”

Dean seemed curious but hesitant, intrigued by the idea. “If I try it and it works then I’ll be able to move on? If it doesn’t, am I just stuck?”

“I mean it’s an art and not a science but no, you won’t be stuck. There’s many things that can be done and depending on the connection, it isn’t always a one and done.”

“I’ve got nothing to lose so why not.” Dean said, deciding then and there to do it. Worst case scenario it didn’t work but there really was no harm. “My lunch is almost done though so when would be the best time for you?”

“Pop by after work, I usually stay pretty late. I’ll make sure everything is all set to go.”

“Okay, I can do that. Thank you.”

Rowena offered Dean a friendly smile before watching him leave, turning to help the newest customer in the store.

Dean returned to work to finish out the final three hours and while he worked, he allowed his mind to drift to Lisa and what their relationship had been. She had been his first love, his only love really, and that held a lot of significance for him. Loving was easy, Dean loved a great deal of people, but keeping them was the hard part it seemed. They loved him and they left and while he’d managed to retain and repair relationships with some of the people he loved, like Mary and Charlie, he’d been unable to mend others like Lisa and his brother, Sam. The refusal to mend Sam’s was more stubbornness than anything else and Dean had been entertaining the idea of giving his brother a call to try and bridge the gap.

As Dean packed up his things at the end of the day, he allowed himself another indulgence into his memories.

Mary heard the car pull up and practically jumped to her feet with excitement. She knew the rumble all too well and knew exactly who it brought with it: her son, her grandson, and if all had gone as planned, her future daughter in law as well. She made her way into the entry way, waiting with open arms and a wide smile.

She saw Dean enter, Ben nestled in a carrier he was holding but Lisa was nowhere to be seen. It was only then that she noticed Dean’s expression, grief stricken and numb. His eyes were glassy, lips bitten through, and posture utterly defeated. Concern washed over her and she frowned.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, stepping back as Dean removed his shoes and brushed past her.

Dean made his way into the kitchen and set Ben’s carrier on the ground before he sat in one of the chairs at the kitchen table, sinking into it as if it were the only thing keeping him afloat. His voice was quiet when he spoke.

“She’s gone.”

Mary’s eyes widened, words sticking in her throat. There was always a risk with childbirth but Lisa had seemed so healthy and they’d been at a hospital. It simply wasn’t possible. She wanted to pry, to probe for further information, but Dean beat her to the punch.

“She gave up her rights and she left.”

Mary stopped again, confusion on her face. “So she’s not-“

“Dead? No. That would be easier.” He mumbled, staring down at his hands. His shoulders began to shake and the rest of his body followed until he was crying, full bodied sobs dripping tears onto his hands and the floor.

Spurred into action by Dean’s sudden breakdown, Mary pulled up a chair and sat. She wrapped her arms around Dean and let him cry. They could talk after.

Dean thought of the aftermath of that moment as he drove towards Rowena’s shop. Mary had stepped up and helped more than needed after that, practically raising Ben by herself for the first four months of his life. Dean had wanted to but the pit of depression and anguish that had opened up and swallowed him whole seemed inescapable. He’d barely made it through those months of trade school. His situation had isolated him from everyone and even now it was haunting him.

All he wanted was to get her out of his mind and out of his life. She’d taken up enough space and she didn’t need to be taking up any more.

He stepped back into the shop with anxiety swirling in his stomach, the feeling only mildly quelled by Rowena who offered him a gentle smile. She beckoned for him to follow her into the back and he obliged, taking a look around the room. It was simple, plain, save for the materials sitting on top of an ornately carved wooden table.

“I’m glad you decided to do this. I do think it will help.” She said as she gestured for Dean to sit. “There are a few steps to this process but rest assured they’re not taxing. I just want to make sure that you’re alright with doing this before we start.”

“I need to move on and I’ll take whatever help I can get at this point.”

Rowena nodded before reaching for a bundle of wood and herbs, flicking a lighter on and setting the herbs ablaze. She blew out the flame and waved the bundle, maneuvering around the room to coat all of it in the smoke. “We start by cleansing the space and ourselves so we can do the ritual in an environment that is free from pre-existing energies. I thought cedar for general cleansing and rosemary for new beginnings would be the best choice.”

“So herbs have meanings then?”

“More or less.” Rowena hummed, squishing the end of the bundle until the embers died and it stopped smoking. She sat opposite Dean, putting the silver try in between the two of them. Melted to the tray were two black candles and off to the side sat the lighter, a string, some more herbs, and a silver pick carved to look like a vine.

“I’m going to have you pick up the pick and carve your name into one candle and her name into the other. As you do this, I want you to visualize yourself and her and your relationship. Visualize what you thought the relationship was, what it actually was, and why you want it gone. You can speak out loud or keep it inside, it’s up to you.”

Nodding, Dean picked up the pick and began to carve the names into the respective candles. He thought of himself as he was back then, an 18 year old with no clue what he was doing who loved a girl and was excited to be a dad, and then to where he was now, a 33 year old man just trying his best to be as good of a father as he could be. Dean thought of Lisa as she was then, first as the caring loving girl he’d thought she was and then more as the girl she had been.

“Lots of rose-coloured glasses.” Dean mumbled to himself as he carved her name into the candle. It hadn’t been perfect, no relationship was, but he’d ignored a lot more than he should have now that he was looking back at the relationship in great detail. But that was the past and not something he’d settle for again. He set the pick down when he finished, glancing back at Rowena.

“Good job.” She said. “I want you to pick up the string next and tie it around both candles. As you tie it, I want you to visualize the string as if it were tying you to her and vice versa. For all intents and purposes, this string is the string that’s still connecting you to her.”

Dean took the string, coarse twine rough on his fingers, and looped it around the candles. He tied the twine into a knot as he did so, he imagined that he and Lisa were connected by it. They were connected in a way, bound by the miles of arteries and veins that flowed through Ben. He was the knot that held their string together, that tied them, and he was beginning to unravel. If he unraveled Dean knew he would be free but what would that freedom cost his son?

“There are two options now. We can add some extra herbs depending on what you’re looking for or we can simply continue on and cut the cord. Adding the herbs may be beneficial but this is your journey, not mine, so it’s up to you.”

Dean paused, trying to think about what he wanted. He wanted as much of the negativity from the relationship as possible, wanted the chance to grow as a person, and he wanted to protect himself from future relationships. Explaining it to Rowena turned out to be a bit more complicated than he’d expected and by the time he managed to choke it all out, he was flustered and embarrassed. Rowena sat there patiently, nodding along as she listened.

“Okay, I see what you’re saying and I think I know what we should use. Lavender for its calming properties, St. John’s Wort for relaxation and clarity, salt for its protective qualities, and thyme as an all around. Give me just a few minutes, I’ll be right back.”

With that Rowena took her leave, returning four minutes later with several herbs and a mortar and pestle. She directed Dean to add a pinch of every herb she presented to him into the mortar and to grind them together clockwise in order to attract their energies. He did as she asked, thinking about what he wanted from the ritual as he ground. Once the mixture was ground, Rowena had him sprinkle the mixture on top of and around the candles and the string.

“What’s next?” Dean asked, setting the empty mortar back on the table.

“Light the candles and then we watch the candles burn. We sit and watch and reflect until the candles have completely burned and then it’s done.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. So go ahead and light them.”

Dean took a deep breath, reached for the lighter, and lit the candles.

The flames seemed normal at first but then they roared to life and Dean stared in stunned silence. Lisa’s flame moved quicker and reached the string first, fire dancing along the string and connecting to Dean’s candle. Dean’s flame quickened at that, reactive. Wax from his candle dripped onto the string, dampening Lisa’s flame and preventing the string from burning through.

Panic spiked in Dean’s heart as he stared on, willing the flames to grow and burn through the cord. He wanted to be free from Lisa, free from her ghost haunting his relationships and ruining his life. He wanted her gone, wanted to move on and be better than he had been. He deserved to be free, deserved the chance to live his life like he wanted.

Dean’s candle flame finally reached the string and flickered when it first met the wax blockage on the string before roaring to life and finally severing the string tying them together. The string dropped to the tray where the flame consumed it, shriveling it until it curled in on itself and became nothing but ash. Once the string was gone, Dean’s candle burned faster and brighter than it had before. It burned completely, beating Lisa’s by a few minutes.

While Dean remained hesitant about witchcraft, some of his feelings had changed. There was something to the ritual that comforted him but what it was, he didn’t know. It could’ve been the introspection and the meditative quality to the ritual or honest to god magic. Either way, the anxiety in his stomach was calming and he didn’t feel quite as trapped as he had earlier that morning. 

Rowena’s expression was neutral but there was a knowing glimmer in her eyes, the kind of knowing glimmer that meant she knew what the outcome of the ritual had been and that she was pleased. She left the remnants on the table before standing up. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, I think,” Dean said as he followed her out to the front. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that for me.”

“I’m not in the habit of letting people I know suffer if there’s something I can do about it. And before you ask, you don’t owe me anything. Consider this a more than fair exchange for restoring my furniture when you didn’t have to.”

“Keep sending any repairs or restorations my way, I don’t mind doing them.”

Rowena nodded her head, leaning against the counter. “On a personal level, I heard through the neighbourhood grapevine that you went on a somewhat decent date recently. How’d you manage to find someone that wasn’t insane?”

“Ah the neighbourhood grapevine. I’ve been a little worried about that spreading all of my dirty laundry around.” Dean admitted. He was relieved they were moving on from the troubles with Ben to his slightly, albeit still troubling, romantic troubles. “But I don’t know, I just got lucky I guess. Why, are you in the market for someone?”

“I’m considering it. I’ve all but given up on men so if you happen to know any women, I would not be opposed to a set up.”

Dean, who was no stranger to meddling and set ups and hated them with a passion, couldn’t help the curiosity he found brewing. Of all the people in the neighbourhood, Rowena seemed like she should have been the first in line to have any luck at all. Of course dating was complicated so it wasn’t all that surprising she wanted help.

“I mean, kind of hard to recommend anyone when I don’t really know that many people. What do you look for in women?”

“I’m not picky, dear, no point in it. That being said, I do have a certain fondness for nerds and geeks. It’s incredibly endearing when someone gets so excited over something they enjoy.”

Dean’s mind flicked to Charlie with little hesitation. She’d whined about wanting to date again when he’d seen her before everything went down and she was Rowena’s type. He imagined Rowena would be Charlie’s type too but it’d been years since they’d actually sat down and properly talked about preferences.

“I have a friend, my best friend actually, who might be interested. She’s big into Moondor, it's a larp thing, if that’s your thing.”

“I’m intimately familiar with the game. Let’s just say I lead a faction in it.” Rowena smiled, seeming proud of that fact. “There is someone in that game that I may have my eye on but rival factions come into play and it’s all too political. Hard to meet a rival queen when very few of your own faction have seen you in game..”

Dean nodded, mind running with the information he had. “The faction meeting is in a few weeks, right? Make your first big in game appearance and make a splash. I’d suggest going scary but sexy, especially if you’re going after the redhead. I have it on good authority she's got a thing for women in chainmail and leather.”

Rowena, intrigued by what Dean seemed to know but wasn’t sharing, simply offered him a small nod. “Will do, thanks for the tips. Thank you for the trust too, I do appreciate it. Good luck with everything.”

“Thanks for not judging me.”

With that, Dean stepped out of the shop and into the afternoon light. He pause to check his watch and figured school would just be getting out now. Ben had volleyball practice and was getting a ride home so there was still time to run errands. There was a shop a few buildings down from Rowena that Dean had been meaning to check out so he decided to wander over.

The Growth Collective, it was called, and Dean couldn’t suss much out from the displays in the windows. There were a few mannequins with some clothing, a couple old books propped up, and a creative display of seasonal veggies arranged to look vaguely like an animal. Cas would probably get a kick out of that one Dean thought to himself as he stepped inside.

It was nothing like he’d expected. To his left was a section for produce and food, the fruit and veg piled neatly and labelled in looping writing. Dean glanced closer, trying to find a price, and came up confused when he couldn’t find one. It was similar for the dairy and the meat in the next section. The cuts of meat looked nice too, professionally butchered. Past the perishables came the non-perishables and the bakery items, cans of fruits and vegetables mixed with bags of grains and noodles and a million other things. They too had no labels.

Across and to the left from the food came a section with clothing and trinkets, a wide variety displayed proudly. A deep green sweater caught Dean’s eye and he ran his fingers along the hem of it, the knit wool scratchy underneath his fingers. Predictably, there was no price tag. Crafts and trinkets lined the shelves and Dean paused in front of a stained glass window hanger, curious as to why someone thought to immortalize garlic bulbs in shimmering glass.

There was a sudden noise from somewhere in the back, an employee Dean guessed, and he turned to see who it was that worked in this confusing store. The man that came stumbling out was all too familiar and as Dean made direct eye contact with Cas, he felt the queasiness in his stomach return.

Cas, for all of his intent to be professional and normal, looked just as awkward as Dean did. “Hey Dean. You uh, looking for anything in particular?”

Dean shrugged, pulling his eyes away from Cas. He’d expected some level of tension the next time they’d meet but this felt weird, wrong. It hadn’t been Cas’ fault but Dean was still frustrated with him for his hand, or lack therefor, in how things had played out.

“This seems like a place you’d work.” He said absentmindedly. “What’s the deal with the lack of prices? Also why so many different things?”

“Right, I keep forgetting you’re not originally from here.” Cas said, taking a seat behind the counter. He pulled out a book and a few papers, jotting down several things as he talked. It was easier to speak to Dean by not looking at him. “The Growth Collective’s a non-profit that’s partnered with local farmers, artisans, and so on and so forth to help provide local cheaper alternatives. We also spearhead several local initiatives focused on community issues and sustainability. This is just the physical storefront.”

“Still doesn’t explain the lack of prices.”

“We do well enough with online sales that the physical storefront is a pay what you can afford model, hence the lack of price tags.”

Dean nodded slowly, unsure of what to say. It made sense Cas worked for a non-profit, he seemed like the type to genuinely care about other people. What didn’t make sense was how someone like him could raise a daughter like Claire and it was only when Dean felt Cas glaring daggers at him that he realized he’d been speaking out loud.

“That was supposed to be an inside thought, I’m so sorry.” Dean apologized, embarrassment flushing his cheeks red. “Nothing against you or your kids, it’s just- she kind of did go nuclear and ruin my relationship with Ben.”

“I assure you that she’s dealing with the consequences of that and to be honest, she gets that from her mother. Her father too I suspect, but to a lesser degree.” Dean raised an eyebrow, confused. Cas, realizing his lapse in explanation, continued. “Claire and Jack are technically my niece and nephew, they’re my twin brother’s kids. He passed when they were young and I adopted them. So technically blood related. Not that I think that really matters in any quantifiable way.”

“I had no idea.”

“Well I don’t go around advertising it but the more you know I suppose. How are you and Ben holding up after Saturday?”

“Not great. We’re not speaking which isn’t surprising. He’s pissed, which I get, and I just don’t know where to go from here. I can’t force him into talking but I can’t just sit back and not do anything either. It’s that rock and a hard place bullshit.”

“If it helps, Claire’s decided I no longer exist. So I suppose we’re in the same boat there. But seriously, how are you feeling? You looked awful on Saturday and I didn’t really want to overstep by checking on you but I was worried.”

Dean’s shoulders sagged as he leaned against the counter, slowing himself to just be. As frustrated as he was with Claire, Cas hadn’t had a part in any of it and it wasn’t fair to hold his daughter against him. Scrubbing a hand over his face to give himself another moment to collect his thoughts, Dean sighed again. “I don’t know. I’m happy everything’s as out in the open as it can be but it’s hard because he won’t talk to me and let me explain shit. There aren’t any secrets but they didn’t come out of my mouth so he feels betrayed. I’m just, I’m so angry.”

Cas pursed his lips, eyes still on what he was working on as he let Dean vent. This seemed like the healthiest outlet.

“I’m pissed at myself for not telling him sooner and I’m pissed at myself for still holding onto his mom for no fucking reason. Actually, Rowena helped me a bit with that but jury’s still out on whether or not it actually helped. I’m pissed at my mom for lying to Ben about his mom. I’m pissed at your kid. There’s just, there’s so much anger and I feel like I’m drowning in it.”

“Do you want advice?”

“I’ll take whatever I can get at this point.”

Cas nodded, setting the pen down so he could look at Dean. “You strike me as the emotionally constipated type and I don’t mean that as a good or bad thing so don’t get offended at that. You should talk to someone about what’s been going on. And I don’t mean me or the neighbours or your best friend who I imagine you’re already talking to. I mean a licensed someone.”

“I don’t do therapy. Not a fan of telling random strangers my problems.”

“I was a stranger four months ago and you still told me things.”

“That’s different.”

“Is it?” Cas asked, raising an eyebrow. “I can’t tell you what to or what not to do but it’s always an option and you’re not any less of a person for going. I think everyone should go, to be quite honest. We’ve all got shit we need to work through, why not do it with someone who’s objective and trained to help.”

“Have you gone?”

Cas nodded his head. “I have, right after my brother passed and I took the kids in. I wasn’t in a position where I could be who the kids needed without help to sort through everything. You know as well as I do that grief and being a new parent aren’t an easy combination.”

“And it helped you?”

“Gave me the tools I needed to deal with my own emotions and the kids so yeah, it did. I suspect it’s why I’m so open with them now but that’s just a theory.”

Dean was surprised by how open Cas was about his experience. Therapy had always been a hush hush thing growing up, the proverbial monster in the closet you were too afraid to tell anyone you were seeing. He had a vague recollection of Mary meeting with someone when he was a kid, but he’d been four and too busy wrapped up in taking care of Sam to think much of it. All he remembered from that time was that dad was gone and mom was sad.

Two people had talked to him about therapy now and he was beginning to wonder if that was more than a coincidence. It felt like a question for Charlie and he was planning on seeing her alter that week anyway. She’d give him her unfiltered thoughts and that, at the very least, would tell him who was on the right track.

“I’ll have to think about it but thanks for sharing.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“So, knowing that we’re still on talking terms even though our kids aren’t and kind of hate us, do you still want to do the Friday night watches? Because I’ve gotta be honest man, I need a weekly distraction until this shit gets resolved and I don’t think Charlie’s going to get invested in a firefighter show.”

“I would but I’ve got plans Friday night. Plans that you’re more than welcome to crash.”

Dean tilted his head, intrigued. From what he knew about Cas, his mind drifted to the hookups he knew the man had. The plans couldn’t revolve around that though because the man was bold but not that bold. It had nothing to do with the kids either and it was doubtful it was work related so it left a big gaping question mark.

“Lee’s band’s playing at Swayze’s Friday night and I always go as a show of support. That and we get a neighbour discount so the food and the booze are dirt cheap. If you like the kind of folk rock vibe which I don’t know if you do, might be fun. Would get you out of the house at the very least.”

“I didn’t realize they were playing. They’re kind of a favourite of mine. I’ll have to see if the kid and I can communicate by then before I decide to go. What time’s it at?”

“They start playing at 9:30 but it fills up pretty fast so I’d be there for 9.”

“I’ll make a note of that. I’m gonna go though, I’ve got to cook dinner even if the kid’s gonna eat later than me to avoid me. I’ll see you later Cas.”

Cas waved goodbye, turning back to his ledger when Dean left. Dean, armed with plenty to think about and tentative plan for the rest of the week, headed home. Bit by bit he was beginning to sever the ties binding him to Lisa, to his past, and he knew he would be lighter by the end of it

Chapter Text

School, as it turned out, was incredibly difficult when there was constant emotional turmoil taking over your brain and by the end of the week Ben was ready to lose it. Class provided a tolerable distraction but lunch was absolute hell as he did his best to avoid Claire.

She had told him the truth but it had effectively ruined his life and he didn’t know how to reconcile that with her. It was too awkward to sit down and talk with her, to tell her that he appreciated and hated her in equal measure for what she had done. Truth be told he couldn’t tell if the roiling in his stomach every time he saw her was one of frustration or one of want, of the crush he’d had and didn’t know if he’d gotten rid of.

It was Friday morning when things came to a head. He’d made it to school while managing to avoid them but Kaia was his lab partner for physics and when she sat beside him, it felt tense. She turned to him, coming right out with it. “What’s going on with you and Claire?”

“Nothing’s going on, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What we’re not gonna do is lie, ‘kay? You’ve been avoiding her at lunch and I don’t doubt there’s some valid reason for it. I’d kind of like to know since you’re both friends of mine.”

Ben sighed, dropping his head on the desk. “Together we kind of ruined my life.”

“How?”

“She helped me track down my mom and ended up basically showing me that my mom didn’t want me. That kind of led to me and my dad fighting and I think I’ve maybe said like 4 things to him in the past week. Claire’s banned from coming over and I think also isn’t allowed to have friends over.”

Kaia’s eyes widened and she sucked in a breath, disbelief etched across her face. “Are you serious?”

“In her defence, I did kind of ask her to look but I wish I hadn’t. I just- I dunno how to feel right now and talking to her kind of really hurts because I just think about everything. Is it bad that I’ve been avoiding her?”

“No, avoiding her’s totally reasonable.” Kaia said, pulling out her notebook. “Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly I guess, you’re not the first person she’s done this to. I’m gonna talk to her at lunch since she’s basically iced Jack out and is now just clinging exclusively to me. Do you want me to let you know how it goes?”

“Please.”

“Will do.” Kaia confirmed, turning her attention to the front as the teacher began to speak.

When lunch rolled around Kaia met Claire near her locker, expression purposefully kept neutral. Her body language, however, was tense and Claire looked apprehensive when she closed her locker door. “Why are you standing like that?”

“Ben told me what happened on the weekend.”

Claire’s face fell and she began to chew on her lip as she looked at Kaia. “Oh. Okay.”

“This is the second person you’ve done this to. I thought you would’ve learned from last time.”

“Alex’s was an accident and you know that.” Claire mumbled irritably, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “I apologized to her and it’s been fine ever since. She only has like a baby grudge.”

“Oh no, she’s still pissed at you. She’s got a photo of you with your mouth scratched out on the back of her door that we all pretend not to see. Sorry to burst your bubble.”

“I don’t love that. Are you gonna do what Jack and my dad did and yell at me? Or better yet, just pull a Ben and ignore me.”

“I just want to know why you did it in the first place knowing full well what the fallout could’ve been given the whole Alex situation. I’m not gonna judge you right now but I will judge you at the end.”

Claire sighed deeply before turning to lean against her locker. Part of her wanted to sit down and explain the entire situation but part of her wanted to just walk away. It didn’t matter how much she explained her actions or reasoning, Kaia wasn’t going to get it. So Claire avoided all of it by being her usual direct self.

“I’m not even going to explain because I already know what you’re going to say. You’re going to say I was selfish and impulsive and thrived on the chaos and yeah part of me did but the normal part of me just wanted him to know the truth about his mom like I do about my parents or you about yours. There’s nothing wrong with wanting the truth, even though I guess the methods were wrong. Yeah I shouldn’t have gone through his dad’s shit but it was for the greater good.”

“You went through his dad’s shit?”

“Yep.”

“Dude you can’t do that shit. That’s so invasive.” Kaia sighed. “No wonder Ben’s pissed and uncomfortable. I get you wanted to help but you don’t help that way.”

Claire threw her hands up in the air, temper flaring, “And here it comes, the high and mighty judgment from you. You’ve got no leg to stand on with the shit you pulled on Jody and Donna. I’ve snooped, you’ve snooped, we’ve both ruined lives. Why are you suddenly morally superior to me?”

“The Jody and Donna thing hurt no one but me, involved no one but me, and I didn’t do it to cause chaos. I didn’t wreck a guy’s relationship with his dad or a friendship or snoop through anyone’s shit that was private and hidden away. So no, it isn’t the same. And I’m not saying I’m morally superior. I’m literally just saying that you went about it wrong and there were better ways you could’ve helped him.”

“You know what, no. I’m not doing this with you. I am not subjecting myself to judgment right now. We’re gonna yell and fight and end up ignoring each other so I’m gonna cut out the middleman. You can ignore me until you feel better for all I care.”

“If you’re going to keep being a dick then fine, I will.” Kaia said simply, turning on her heels and walking away. She’d known Claire long enough to know that this was how it was always going to end up and she was not about to entertain a childish tantrum from her best friend. Claire would come back when she was good and ready to admit that she had been wrong.

~

When Friday morning rolled around, Ben woke to find a notification on his phone that hadn’t been there when he’d fallen asleep. It wasn’t a text or a game but rather a Facebook messenger notification. His heart skipped a beat, residual sleepiness immediately shed as he grabbed the phone and sat straight up in bed.

There was only one person it could be.

He hadn’t thought she’d even see the message, let alone respond to it, and he was suitably nauseous by the time he opened the app to check the message. His finger hovered over the unopened message with hesitation, wariness almost paralyzing. What if she didn’t want to meet him? What if she did want to meet him? There were too many what ifs but the overwhelming desire to know took over and he opened the message.

I don’t want to know how you found me but I have time today. Pick a time and place.

Ben’s heart leapt into his throat and he nearly choked as he read and reread the words, barely able to believe them. They were going to meet, finally. He would get his answers.

“Spork, dude, I can’t believe it.” Ben mumbled when Spork stretched and whacked his leg with his paw.

The panic set in as soon as he started getting dressed, a dizzying sensation washing over him as he bumped into his dresser. Where were they going to meet? How would they find a place? It had to public but couldn’t be too far from home or school depending on the time and it couldn’t be that far for Lisa to go or there was no way in hell she’d make the trek and show up.

Ben googled frantically, operating on an arbitrary timer he had made to decide where they would meet. A coffee shop seemed to be the best bet and he settled on one roughly equidistant from home and school: a place called Hasbeans. He replied to her message with a time, the name, and the location before he finished getting dressed. Energy and anxiety buzzed around him like a fly, compounded further when he ran into Dean in the kitchen.

Dean looked at Ben the way one might approach an animal stuck in a bear trap, with a great deal of trepidation and mild alarm. It was warranted, Ben supposed, and part of him thought that maybe he should tell Dean what was happening. Knowing his father though, Ben elected to keep it a secret. The last thing he wanted was a lecture from Dean or concern or to be stopped. He’d been hindered for 16 years and he wasn’t about to be hindered now by the man he was still upset with.

“You have a lot of energy this morning.” Dean said cautiously, sliding Ben’s lunch across the counter towards him as a tentative peace offering. “Got enough energy to talk?”

Wrong move.

Ben’s expression soured as he took the lunch and shoved it in his backpack. “No. I’m meeting friends after school so I won’t be home until supper.”

“You can’t avoid me forever, Ben.”

“It’s only been a week, I’ve still got at least three weeks of pettiness left in me.” He replied. “I’ve gotta go.”

“Have a good day at school.”

Ben shrugged in response and left, eager to get away from Dean. He hadn’t expected the attempts at reconnecting to start so soon and truth be told, he wasn’t interested in them. Once he met Lisa and got actual answers then maybe he’d be interested. But not before that.

~

“So, why’d you wanna meet for lunch?” Charlie asked as she took a seat across from Dean. “I mean I’ll take any excuse to take lunch and get away from the home part of working from home but still.”

He’d asked her to meet for lunch that morning and shot her a location, a food truck close to his workplace that supposedly had the best souvlaki in the city if the neighbours’ recommendations were anything to go by. Dean glanced up at her, uncharacteristically awkward. He’d planned on chatting and hemming and hawing around the subject until she called him out but he found himself being forthright immediately.

“Do you think I need therapy?”

Charlie stared at him, unable to hide the surprise on her face. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Do you think I need therapy?” Dean repeated, sounding almost nervous.

“Okay well a ‘hello, how’s your day’ would’ve been nice first but I guess this works too. Why am I being asked this? Is it a Ben and Lisa related thing?”

“Kind of.”

“Okay, elaborate.”

Dean sighed, leaning back and taking a moment to collect his thoughts. He’d been thinking about what Cas and Rowena had told him the entire week and despite his best efforts, he couldn’t seem to get it out of his mind. Typically, Charlie was the litmus test for thoughts that plagued him and drove him crazy like these were.

“How much do you know about witchcraft?”

“Where the fuck is witchcraft coming from?”

“It’s relevant, I swear.”

“Okay fine, I’ve got a passing pop culture knowledge. Basically just tumblr, a little tiktok, and moondor knowledge.”

“Do you know what a cord cutting is?”

Charlie cocked her head to the side, studying Dean. His expression was serious and it intrigued her. “Yeah. How do you know what that is?”

“So one of my neighbours is a witch and owns like a metaphysical apothecary shop here in town and she did a cord cutting for me on Monday. For me and Lisa.”

“Still not seeing the therapy connection here.”

“I obviously told her what’s been going on and she did the thing and then we got talking and she said that sometimes if the ceremony doesn’t help then therapy is a good idea, especially if the relationship was intense and I kind of feel like it was. Then there’s the whole conversation with Cas after and that’s just part two.”

“What did Cas tell you?”

“Deeply personal stuff aside he kind of encouraged therapy. Said everyone should do it and it would be a good way to talk to someone who has the tools and then went on this whole tangent about how therapy doesn’t make you less of a person which felt a little pointed but doesn’t matter. Anyways, I’ve been thinking about it a lot and I just know you’ll be honest with me.”

Charlie nodded her head, resting her chin on her hands. She’d been waiting for Dean to broach this topic for years but there was a certain way to go about talking to him about it that was required. Too much honesty would scare him off of it completely and not enough honesty would convince him that he really didn’t need to do it, now or ever.

“I think therapy would be good for you,” she began slowly, “for a bunch of reasons. I’m not even gonna get into the Lisa of it because we definitely both know you need to talk to someone about that who can be objective. I could bring up the stuff with your dad or your brother or the other things that are gonna make me sound like I’m ripping you to shreds when that’s not what I want to do.”

“You wouldn’t be the first person to rip me to shreds in the past month.” Dean sighed. “I’ve just been thinking about a lot in the last little bit. I want to move on, I deserve to move on, but I just can’t do it alone and I really hate it. It makes me feel weak.”

“Let’s get one thing clear here, admitting you need help doesn’t make you weak. What it does do is show that you know yourself enough to know what you can and can’t do on your own. Besides, you’re doing it for more than just you- you’re doing it for Ben too.”

“Do you really think I can do it? Because honestly it’s been daunting as hell and I don’t even know where to start looking.”

“I know a few people if you want help. I can look into them and get back to you?”

Dean nodded his head, flashing Charlie a grateful smile. He was still uncomfortable with the entire situation but she hadn’t made him feel overly judged and hadn’t attacked his character either. True to the way she was, she kept it real and he appreciated it. Eager to move on from his emotions, Dean recalled the other reason he'd wanted to meet up with Charlie for lunch.

“Oh I did have something else I wanted to tell you about. It’s Moondor related.”

At that Charlie leaned in, curious. “Do tell.”

“So you’ve got your big faction meeting in a few weeks right and I know it’s got all the standard buzz but I’ve got it on incredibly reliable authority that the leader of the shadow orcs is going to make an appearance.”

“No fucking way, you’re such a liar.” Charlie said, reaching out to it Dean’s arm. “No way in hell you know any of the high rollers.”

“Except that I do and the Shadow King is less of a King and more of a Queen.”

“So I should wear the slutty armour?”

“You should wear the slutty armour.”

Charlie grinned, making a mental note to trust Dean’s intel and pull out the chainmail she’d been saving for a special occasion. “I appreciate the intel, thanks. Also appreciate you asking me for advice, I know that’s not easy for you. How are you and Ben holding up?”

“Well it’s been a week and all we’ve had is one awkward conversation where he’s told me he’s got enough pettiness to last for at least three weeks so uh, about as well as expected. I want to sit down and talk because I know I haven’t told him everything and he hasn’t asked about everything but he’s gotta cool down and so do I. I just- I have this sneaking feeling that he’s doing something else behind my back.”

“I mean he’s a teenager, that’s kind of his whole M.O. What do you think he’s doing?”

“I don’t know but whatever it is, I don’t feel good about. Like I know it isn’t anything to do with my mom or my family and it can’t be friends. It’s definitely not sneaking out to see the neighbour kid.”

“You said he found Lisa online right?” Charlie asked.

Dean nodded.

“Okay so maybe he’s gonna reach out to her and try to get her side? Cuz that’s what I’d be doing if I was angsty teenager armed with the knowledge that my missing parent was actually alive and not dead. Granted I was kind of a chaos junkie and I don’t know Ben well enough to know if he is.”

“God I hope he isn’t.” Dean mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache. “He probably is though, just based off of what he said to me. What do I do? I could just let it play out but I know how it’s gonna end and I really don’t want him to feel worse than he already does. But also if I tell him I know and I try to stop him, it’s just gonna make things worse between us.”

“And this is exactly why I’m childfree. But I don’t know, I can’t tell you what the right or wrong thing to do here is. He’s already gotten this far by himself so it’s about whether or not you think he can handle what she’ll say and if you trust him to do this on his own.”

“I know he can handle seeing her, that’s not a problem, and I know he kind of knows sort of what happened but I’m worried about what she’s gonna say. Not about me, I don’t give a fuck about what he says about me, but it’s what she’s gonna say to him. It’s one thing to hear your dad say that your other parent didn’t want you but it’s a completely separate thing to hear the parent that didn’t want you say they didn’t want you.”

Charlie nodded her head, reaching out across the table to put her hand on Dean’s arm. “He’s gonna be 16, Dean. You’ve gotta let him rip the bandaid off. Do what you did when you were teaching him how to ride a bike, just be there to pick him back up when he falls and calls for you. That’s your job as a dad, not to prevent the accident, but to pick him up afterwards.”

“When’d you get so wise? Should’ve got Yoda on the die, not Leia.”

Charlie rolled her eyes, laughing. “Guess I grew up. Now I gotta get going but keep me updated on how everything goes. Also let me know if you get any more insider moondor knowledge. Mama needs her control.”

“Will do.” Dean smiled, parting ways with Charlie as they both headed back to work.

Their conversation hadn’t solved the world’s problems but it had helped and as Dean drove back to work, he further reconciled what was occurring. He’d be there the best he could for Ben ready and waiting to pick him back up whenever he was ready post fall.

~

Ben’s mouth was dry, his saliva dried up like water in the desert. It didn’t matter how much water he drank or how much gum he chewed, the feeling remained. The feeling had been mildly irritating when he’d noticed it in first period but by the end of the day it was infuriating. Coupled with the dry mouth came the telltale flips and butterflies in his stomach, anxiety seeping into his bloodstream and numbing his extremities.

His hands remained numb as he pushed open the heavy door of Hasbeans, the coffee shop he had selected for the meeting. It had been the place most in the middle of them and the most public. Despite his desire to find his mother and learn as much as he possibly could about her and her past with Dean, he was terrified of what would happen and what she would say.

“You can do this, it’s fine.” Ben mumbled to himself as he sat down at an empty table. They were supposed to meet in fifteen minutes and time seemed to slow as Ben stared at the clock, willing the hands to move faster.

Five minutes passed, then ten, and finally fifteen but Lisa wasn’t there yet. Ben drummed his fingers on the table nervously, telling himself that she was just late and that traffic was probably just a nightmare. With each passing minute Ben’s heart squeezed harder and harder in his chest, practically on the edge of bursting. This whole idea had been stupid. She’d skipped out on the last 16 years, why would she bother to show up now just because he asked. Thirty minutes had passed when Ben stood up, planning to flee the shop and act like he’d never even reached out in the first place. It was then he came face to face with Lisa.

She stood just over five and half feet, long dark hair perfectly plaited and tossed behind her head. Dark eyes scanned Ben’s face as she stood there, the glimmer a reflection of the light and nothing else. Her posture was rigid, tense shoulders squared and arms close to her sides.

“Mom?” Ben whispered, the word leaving his throat before he could stop himself.

Lisa recoiled at the word, practically wincing as she stood there. “Lisa is fine.” She said curtly, taking a seat across from Ben.

Ben nodded his head, following suit and taking a seat. He couldn’t help but stare at her. Here she was, his mom, living and breathing and in person. She was taller than he’d expected but that didn’t matter. Neither did the expression of discomfort on her face that he pretended not to notice. The pair sat there in awkward silence as the minutes dragged on, Ben staring and Lisa refusing to meet his gaze. At minute seven, Lisa broke the silence.

“You’re taller than I expected.”

Silence broken, Ben felt the anxiety stop creeping and begin to pour in. How was he supposed to respond to that? It wasn’t a question and it didn’t really invite conversation either.

“I get it from dad I guess.” He mumbled, rubbing sheepishly at the back of his neck. He had so many questions but the wires in his brain were crossing and he wasn’t sure what was best to ask first. In the end, he settled on something innocuous. “I saw that you’re running a yoga studio. How’s that?”

“I’ve met some incredible clients and made some lifelong friends so I would say it’s going quite well.”

Ben nodded. He’d expected a return question so his heart dropped closer to his stomach when he didn’t get one. Nevertheless he persevered. “That’s really cool. I saw you have a family, what are they like?”

“Michael is incredible. He’s nothing like your father so it’s been smooth sailing.” She said, blatant in her feelings regarding Dean. “And Alex is just lovely. He’s just made the jv team for basketball at school and we couldn’t be prouder.”

“I made varsity for volleyball.” Ben said quickly, desperately searching for something they could connect on. 

Lisa seemed unimpressed by Ben’s accomplishment, staring past him at the chalkboard menu as she decided what she wanted to drink. Even her posture was disinterested and the longer she sat there, the worse Ben felt. He’d known she would be hesitant to meet but this, this wasn’t fair. She didn’t want to be there and she didn’t care and while it should’ve pissed him off, all it did was frustrate him.

“Why’d you leave?”

That caught Lisa’s attention and she turned to face Ben, making eye contact with him for the very first time. There was no light behind her eyes, no hint of remorse. They reminded him a shark and he recoiled instinctively.

“I was done being with Dean.”

“Did he do something? I don’t- I don’t understand why you just left him, left me.”

“You need to understand something about your father; the very touch of him corrupts, ruining and rotting everything. I had a future ahead of me, big plans for who I was going to be, and he would’ve ruined them. He nearly did.”

Ben frowned, lips pursed and eyebrows knit together. The resentment was rolling off of Lisa in waves and while he understood it in part, the sheer magnitude was overwhelming. Had his father really been that awful when he was younger? It seemed hard to associate the dad who had taken him out for ice cream and shown up to all of his volleyball games with a man so horrible he ruined everything he touched. Then again he had lied for almost 16 years so maybe it wasn’t impossible.

“What did he do?”

“He was immature, irresponsible, smothering, and just not what I wanted. The last thing I wanted was to start a family.”

Ben’s frown deepened. “You didn’t have to start a family with him. You could’ve taken me and left, that was an option.”

Lisa’s expression shifted, the neutrality on her face dissipating. It was as if she’d been entertaining Ben this entire time and now she was done with it. Her tone was short, clipped.

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Why not? You’ve got a son a year younger than me now and a husband, obviously you were ready to start a family.”

Lisa sighed, scrubbing a hand over her face. She’d been hesitant to meet Ben at all, irritated he had found her online, and being in his presence did little to get rid of that feeling. He was his father’s son through and through and the more she sat with that, the more she grew to dislike Ben. It had been nearly 16 years of peace and here he was disrupting it, all because his father was the way he was.

“Do you really want the truth?” She asked, voice flat.

“I didn’t blow up my relationship with my dad just to get here and not get the truth. Tell me.”

“I didn’t want you.”

The words echoed in Ben’s head, bouncing back and forth until they were drowned out by the pure white noise static of distress. His ears rang and his heart leapt into his throat, limbs going numb instantaneously. Throughout it all, Lisa continued talking.

“I didn’t want this permanent reminder of your father in my life. Why would I want you when I didn’t even want him. He was fun for a while but it wasn’t serious and I wasn’t going to waste my time.” She said bluntly. Wanting to hammer home just how little she cared for Ben, Lisa continued. “They told me I’d feel differently when I held you for the first time, that then I’d want to be your mother and be with your father. Do you know what I felt when I held you for the first time?”

Ben’s face, stricken with grief, contorted as his tear blurred eyes met hers. There was no light in them and he felt like he was staring into the pits of hell. He couldn’t make his words come out no matter how hard he tried, any protestation dying when Lisa continued.

“I felt nothing.”

By the time Ben came to his senses, Lisa was already up and moving for the door. She’d had enough of Ben and wasn’t going to entertain his antics any longer. Spurred on by the sudden white hot edge of rage burning through the shock, Ben rose to his feet and walked out after her.

“I don’t care what you say about me but you don’t get to talk about my dad like that!” He said, voice raised enough to catch Lisa’s attention and draw the watchful eyes of a few patrons sitting outside.

Lisa stopped, expression blazing with anger as she grabbed Ben’s wrist and pulled him closer. Her grip was bruisingly tight and Ben winced, staring up at her. She was practically spitting as she spoke to him. “I’ll say whatever I damn well please about your father. I don’t owe him anything and I don’t owe you anything. Don’t ever contact me again. Stay the fuck away from me and family.”

“He was there for me when you weren’t. He’s more of a parent to me than you’ll ever be to your son.” Ben blurted out, trying to yank his hand away. He couldn’t and winced again, the pain shooting up his arm.

“Contact me again and I’ll file a report for stalking and harassment.” Lisa hissed. She shoved Ben’s hand back at him before turning on her heels and leaving.

Ben stood on the sidewalk, cradling his hand to his chest. Between the shooting physical pain and the white hot emotion coursing through him, he didn’t know what to do or how to process what had happened. He walked home in a daze, eyes still blurred with tears the more he worked through what had just happened. It didn’t make any sense but it made perfect sense too and the ache in his heart was sharpening into such a precise point he feared it would impale him.

He passed Dean’s car in the driveway and made his way into the house, still in a daze. Trekking upstairs with the intent to process what had just happened alone in his room with Spork, Ben stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Dean sitting on his bed. His gut instinct would’ve been to get angry but he didn’t have the capacity for it, instead staring at Dean like he had when he was a small child. There was a vulnerability in the waver of his lips and the subtle shake of his shoulders.

“What happened, what’s wrong?” Dean asked immediately, half rising from the bed when he recognized the look of utter despair. Any and all rehearsed conversation was gone from his head, replaced solely by concern for Ben who looked as if he had just seen someone die.

Shocked out of his trance by Dean’s voice, Ben looked at his father. His voice broke on the first word out of his mouth. “Dad-”

Without so much as a second thought Dean was pulling Ben into his arms, careful not crush the hand he was cradling to his chest. He sat the pair of them down on Ben’s bed before pulling him closer, hug tight and firm. It didn’t matter that they were fighting or that Ben was probably still pissed at him, not when Dean could see his son in distress.

Ben didn’t fight the embrace, instead he turned into it and hid his face in Dean’s shoulder as if he were a six year old having a nightmare again. The tears forced their way out and Ben let them. His shoulders shook as he tried to take deeper breaths and collect himself.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re gonna be alright.” Dean mumbled, rubbing Ben’s back. His mind raced with a million and one possible scenarios that could’ve led to the tears and he desperately needed to know which one it had been. “Tell me what happened.”

For several minutes Ben choked out nothing but incomprehensible mumbles as he tried to explain to Dean what had just happened. It was only when he took a few deep breaths and wiped roughly at his eyes that he was able to get out anything coherent.

“I met her.”

Dean’s eyes widened and he swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. He wasn’t surprised in the slightest. “And it didn’t go well judging by your reaction.”

Ben shook his head and pulled away from Dean, hugging his knees to his chest. Spork made his presence known when he crawled out from under Ben’s pillows and Ben reached for the cat, picking him up and holding him tightly. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

Dean sighed deeply, scrubbing a hand over his face as he attempted to gather his thoughts. “I’m not mad at you. Just tell me what happened.”

“I just- I wanted to hear her side of the story.” Ben mumbled. “But she, she was horrible. She yelled at me, told me she didn’t want me. I tried to defend you and then she grabbed my wrist and told me to never contact her again.”

“She put her hands on you?” Dean asked, an undercurrent of anger appearing in his voice. “Let me see it.”

Ben held out his arm for Dean to examine. It had been about a half hour since Lisa had grabbed him and already blood was pooling underneath the skin, red circles popping up around his wrist that would undoubtedly bruise. Rage reared its ugly head and Dean saw red as he let go of Ben’s arm. “I swear to God if I ever see her again. I can’t believe she fucking hurt you.”

“It wasn’t her fault. I shouldn’t have tried to see her and I shouldn’t have yelled at her.”

“No, it is her fault.” Dean said firmly. “She’s a grown fucking woman who should know better than to assault a fucking teenager. Give me her information, this is not fucking over.”

“Dad, stop.” Ben said. “I don’t want this to go any further. I don’t want to see her again and I know you don’t want to see her again.”

“I’m the adult in this situation and while I get you don’t want to make this worse, I’m making an executive decision to deal with this. Because this isn’t okay in any way, shape, or form. She does not get to hurt you again. Not after everything she’s done.”

Ben knew better than to argue and simply laid on his side, curling up with Spork. He was drained from the emotions, adrenaline turning into a buzzing numbness and overwhelming fatigue. “Why were you in here anyway? We’re not supposed to be talking.”

Dean said nothing as he reached down and retrieved the shoebox, setting it on the bed. Beside the shoebox he placed an envelope that had never been opened, his name written on the front in neat printing. “I wanted to tell you the entire truth about what happened from start to finish. After we fought, well I’ve been thinking a lot and what I did wasn’t fair to you. I thought keeping you in the dark for as long as I did would protect you and your feelings but obviously it didn’t do that. I don’t want secrets between us and I sure as hell don’t want anything related to Lisa to be anywhere near us anymore.”

“I’ve seen everything in the shoebox.” Ben said as he sat up. “Didn’t see the envelope.”

“Because I had it somewhere else. Lisa left it for me when I went to pick the pair of you up from the hospital after you were born. I imagine it’s her explanation of why she left.”

“Why isn’t it open?”

“I had a newborn and I was a little too depressed to open it.” Dean shrugged. “Didn’t want to open it when you were growing up because I didn’t want to be in a place where I wouldn’t be able to take care of you.”

Ben picked the envelope up, examining both sides of it.

“You can read it if you want to, I won’t stop you.” Dean said. “I imagine she told you why she left today but it’s almost 16 years later so I don’t know if her sentiment is the same.”

“Don’t you want to read it?”

“No.”

Ben seemed confused and set the envelope down before looking over at Dean. His expression was enough for Dean to explain his reasoning.

“I’ve spent the last 16 years with that woman and her actions haunting me and I’m tired of it. I’m tired of how it fucked up our relationship and my relationship with my mom and my brother. There’s no world I want to live in that has her haunting me anymore. I want to move on and be a better person and a better father and I can’t do that with her around. So I’m moving on. What happened sucks but it resulted you and I’m a better person because I’m your dad.”

“So you’re just going to drop everything to do with her?”

“Once I deal with what she did to you, yeah I am. I was actually going to burn all of this.”

Ben raised an eyebrow. “Can I help?”

Dean nodded and climbed off of the bed, scooping everything up. He and Ben headed to the backyard where Dean dropped the box, the pictures, the ring, and the envelope into the bonfire pit he’d constructed a few weeks back. Crouching down to shove some crumpled newspaper and dry kindling into the pit, Dean seemed satisfied. He rose back to his full height before fishing around his pocket and retrieving a matchbook, extending it to Ben. “You want to do the honours? She did just ruin your life again, think you might need this more than me.”

Ben thought for a moment before he took the matchbook from Dean. Striking a match, he dropped it into the pit. A photo caught first and then another and another until flames engulfed everything in the pit. It was then that Ben looked over at Dean, the firelight flickering over an expression he couldn’t quite place. Dean looked resigned and relieved all in one, like he was reliving a million painful memories just to find one good one.

“Why did you keep me?” Ben asked quietly. “Lisa left and I’m a reminder of her and you were really upset. I feel like any rational person would understand if you hadn’t wanted me.”

“You’re my kid, no way in Hell I was going to just walk out. Yeah you weren’t planned but you’re still a part of me and that means everything.” Dean said, shuffling closer to Ben. “I saw you for the first time and I just, I knew. I knew that I wanted to be there for your first words, your first steps, your first everything. Sure your mom sucked but that didn’t matter because I had you. It’s hard to explain if I’m being honest but I knew I wanted to see what you would become.”

“Love at first sight, seriously?”

“I guess so.” Dean shrugged, wrapping an arm around Ben’s shoulders. “It wasn’t easy and it still isn’t. Everyone thinks their parents have their shit together but that’s not true. I had no clue what I was doing and I still don’t but that’s okay. Being a parent means figuring yourself out and helping your kid figure themselves out too. I didn’t count on you being as stubborn as you are but I probably should’ve. You are a Winchester and we’re pretty bullheaded.”

“No offence dad but no one would look at you and think you have all of your shit together. But thanks for sticking with me. I’m still mad at you for the whole mom thing but I think I get it a bit better now.”

“That’s fair, I don’t expect to be forgiven in a week. Stuff like that takes time and honesty and work. I’m willing to put in the work if you are.”

“No more secrets.” Ben nodded. “Are you really going to go nuclear on her?”

“Like I said earlier, no one hurts my kid and gets away with it. But that’s a problem for tomorrow. I think tonight is a night where we sit and talk and be honest with each other. You’ve got questions and I’ve got answers.”

The pair stood in silence after that, watching the flames flicker and dance until they were smolders. When Dean had put the fire out, he and Ben turned and headed inside. While they hadn’t completely forgiven each other and likely never would, they were at least headed down a path where forgiveness was a possibility.

Chapter Text

“I still think that you should let me go with you.”

Dean shook his head, setting his empty mug down on the kitchen counter. “After what happened when you saw her, not happening. Even if that hadn’t happened, I don’t want you seeing the outcome of that.”

“You mean you don’t want me seeing you lose your cool.”

Dean shrugged his shoulders, all but confirming Ben’s suspicions. He’d seen the beginnings of Dean losing his cool and that alone was enough to give him pause and the occasional nightmare. Seeing Dean lose it on Lisa, who he’d now begun to call egg donor in his head. Any and all association that she was his mother in any capacity had been ruined when she’d been nothing but horrible to him.

“How long are you gonna be gone since I can’t come with you?”

“Well it’s about a half hour to the town over and I don’t know how long the talk will take so at the very least two and a half hours but it might be longer than that. Are you gonna be okay if I’m gone that long?”

Ben nodded his head, pausing to think of a response. While he thought of what he wanted to do, Spork decided to jump onto his lap and settle down. Spork had become the pillar of Ben’s plan to save his mental health and each time he felt the familiar wave of sadness sweep over him, Spork was there to meow at him and demand attention  until he couldn’t feel the emotion anymore. The cat was already quite large for a cat, about 15 pounds and nearly 35 inches long.

“Yeah, I’ll live. Will you text me when you get there?”

“Of course I will.” Dean nodded. “Now I’m probably not gonna feel too great after so I’m definitely not gonna want to cook tonight. Got any preference for takeout?”

“Sushi. If you get some sashimi then Spork can have some too.”

“Sushi it is. Now I’m gonna get going so don’t get up to anything insane while I’m gone.”

Ben nodded, sitting back to finish his breakfast which would involve trying to keep the bacon away from Spork’s ever growing paws. Dean grabbed his keys and headed out the door, intending to head on his merry way to the next town to confront Lisa. Cas was in his front yard, crouched next to his mailbox with a pair of shears as he trimmed the ivy that was growing up the post. He glanced up at the sound of footsteps, smiling at Dean.

“Where are you off to this morning?” He asked, eyes taking in Dean’s clean jeans and well fitted shirt.

Dean stopped, eyes flitting down to Cas crouched next to him. He saw the dirt and the shears and thought about making a joke but ultimately decided against it. “Doing something that’ll probably end horribly but needs to be done.”

Cas raised an eyebrow before he dropped the shears and stood up, brushing the dirt off of his jeans. Dean, in the short time they’d known each other, had already blown up his life once and this felt like a second blow up. Of course it wasn’t any of his business but the longer he looked at Dean, the more he could see how hesitant the other man was. It appeared in the tenseness of his shoulders and the slight frown of his lips.

“Apocalypse 2: here we ago again, huh.” Cas teased, trying to lighten the mood. “How are you and Ben doing?”

“Better, sort of. We’re kind of talking at the very least. Also I’m really sorry about skipping out on the bar last night, I swear I had a good reason.”

Cas waved his hand dismissively. “Not a biggie, don’t worry about it. I’m not about to get upset that a grown man with his own life and problems skipped out on an open invitation for a bar. You’ll just have to come to the next one to make up for it.”

“I won’t promise but I’ll try.” Dean smiled. He began to turn away, foot poised to take another step towards his car, but stopped himself. Cas had given him an incredible amount of advice and patience and maybe he’d be willing to do it again. “You uh, you know anything about confronting a shitty ex?”

“That’s a little out of nowhere. I take it there’s been a development since the fight?”

“If you consider Ben meeting his mother, hearing the truth from her lips, and getting hurt because she put her hands on him then yeah, definitely a development.”

Cas seemed surprised but didn’t react visibly, trying to contain his immediate thoughts. He wasn’t going to be judgmental, not without knowing the entire story. “So you’re going to go have a chat with her then?”

“She put her hands on my kid so absolutely I’m going to have a chat with her. Got any tips so I don’t lose my cool and call her a name she most definitely deserves?”

“Not really.” Cas said honestly. “Just maybe think about who you’re doing the confrontation and conversation for. It’s not so much for you to resolve your feelings about her but I guess it’s more about what happened with her and Ben. Best of luck, Dean. I’ll be here if you’re need to decompress after.”

“Thanks, appreciate it.”

A moment of silence hung in the air as the two men looked at each other, neither really sure what to do or how to leave. In the end they both turned at the same time, Cas back to his overgrown mailbox and Dean towards his car.

The drive to Mount Pleasant was anything but. For starters, the backroads were unpaved and littered with enough potholes to make a slice of Swiss cheese jealous and then there were the signs so faded from the elements they were damn near impossible to read. None of that even covered the traffic that seemed to appear from thin air 20 minutes into the drive, suddenly there on the road as if there were a mass migration from town to town.

Mount Pleasant, while bigger than Paradise Hills, held the same charm and appeal of the town. Mom and pop shops lined the main street and sprawled out from the main artery came the suburbs and homes, dozens upon dozens of cookie cutter homes interspersed with historical gems and buildings showcasing the personalities of their owners. It was a pretty town and Dean despised it.

He despised that there were children playing in their front yards, that there were couples chatting outside coffee shops and that everyone seemed to be having a good time. Despite his best efforts to move on from Lisa and the catastrophe that she had been, he found himself wondering what life would’ve been like if they’d settled down in a town like this. Would Ben have been playing in the front yard while Dean and Lisa sat on the porch and chatted?

“God that’s stupid, push that out of your mind.” Dean mumbled to himself as he pulled onto the street Lisa lived on. His heart was hammering as he drove down the street, a cold sweat breaking out on his brow. This was a horribly stupid idea that would serve no one and probably end up with him being yelled at again. Nothing good ever came with Lisa.

Her house, as it was, was a simple ranch style home with an immaculately kept lawn and beautiful flowerbeds. The circular stones were spread slightly unevenly as they made a path to the front door and Dean hesitated, pausing again before he set foot on them. He could turn around and walk away, could pretend that he’d talked to her and just let Ben and himself move on. But Ben would want to know the details and the last thing he was about to do was to lie to his son again and cause even more issues. Dean’s choice was made for him when the front door opened and a man stepped out.

The man was tall, short cropped black hair framing a kind looking face. He wore a sensible pair of slacks and a collared shirt tucked into a cable knit sweater vest. It was the kind of frumpy academic outfit that Dean distinctly remembered Lisa saying she hated with a passion. He stopped when he noticed Dean at the end of the driveway, seeming less irritated and more curious.

“Can I help you with something?” He asked, voice tinged with the slightest hint of an accent.

Dean hesitated but spoke in the end, settling on trying to be truthful without giving too much away. “I’m sorry to bother you, I’m just looking for Lisa Braeden. I was hoping she’d be home today.”

“Can I ask why you’re looking for her?”

“I’m an old friend.” Dean said, deciding a half truth was better than the full version. “I just moved down to the area and was hoping to reconnect with her.”

The man seemed wary of what Dean was saying, taking a step back to assess him. Dean didn’t look sketchy or weird and his energy seemed fine. “How old of a friend are we talking here?”

“We went to Eastview high school together level of old.”

The man raised his eyebrows, clearly surprised. “She hasn’t told me much about high school, seems like it’s a bit of a touchy subject, but I’m sure she’d love to catch up with you. She’s out teaching a class right now but she’ll be back in a few hours. You’re welcome to come in for coffee if you’d like.”

“That would be great, thank you.” Dean said as he followed the man inside. “My name’s Dean by the way.”

“Nice to meet you Dean, I’m Michael.” The man said as he closed the door behind Dean, leasing him towards the kitchen.

The kitchen was cozy, small but proportionate to the small home. A round table with four chairs was tucked away in the corner, cabinets lining the walls and the space above the sink. The window between the double sink and the cabinet filtered bright light, the light dispersed through a sun catcher spewing rainbows onto the white painted cabinets.

“Care for a cup of coffee while you wait?” Michael asked, pausing by the percolator and the cabinet of mugs.

“That’d be great, thanks.”

Michael turned back to the machine to get a pot of coffee started, focusing in that. Something was bothering him as he watched the coffee brew, something to do with the stranger sitting in his kitchen and the wife that hadn’t returned from work yet. It felt like there was an unspoken secret in the air, an unspoken secret that had brought the man to his front door and now his coffee table.

“Lisa’s never talked much about high school.” Michael said as he set the mugs of coffee down on the kitchen table, sitting across from Dean. “Much less about any of her friends from that time.”

“It was a busy time I suppose. For whatever it counts for, she always well liked and popular. She captained the dance team and ran the prom committee. One of those people everyone seemed to like.”

Michael nodded along with Dean, agreeing with what he’d heard. “That seems like it would be right. She’s a lot like that now, seems to have a bevy of friends and admirers wherever she goes. I imagine that’s in part thanks to her yoga studio.”

“I saw that she’s been running that, looks like it’s doing well.” Dean said, trying to keep up the awkward small talk. He wanted to press Michael and see what the other man knew about Lisa and her past but there was no good way for him to do that that didn’t end in him being thrown from the house and being called a stalker and a liar.

“What has she told you about high school?” Dean asked curiously, taking a long sip of the lukewarm coffee in his mug.

“She’s said a little bit about how she had a lot of friends and enjoyed her time with the clubs but not much else. On occasion she’ll let it slip after a few glasses of wine that she had a bit of a tumultuous relationship with an ex of hers. I tend not to pry about that, she gets quite upset.”

“I remember that all too well.” Dean said, unable to hide the bitterness that tinged his voice.

Michael picked up on it, curious as he leaned in. “You sound upset about that. I take it something happened?”

“Lisa and her boyfriend had their challenges, just like every couple did. I think that it was fine at first but resentment grew, like it always does, and it just became too much for them. She said he was irresponsible and immature and somehow too smothering all at once and he. Well- he just loved her so damn much. Loved her so much he ignored every warning sign, every red flag…”

Dean’s tone was deep and introspective, undeniably personal as he spoke. He hadn’t intended it to be, hadn’t intended to talk to Michael as if he knew the intricacies of his wife’s previous relationship, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Michael seemed like such a genuine man and it wasn’t his fault that he’d married a liar. The pause in his speech was momentary and the final sentence came out before he could stop it.

“It was the baby that tore them apart.”

The air went out of the room in an instant, sucked out through a vacuum until nothing remained. Michael was staring at Dean, eyes wide and jaw slack in disbelief at what he had just heard. It was unmistakable, the bitterness and emotion in the other man’s voice as he’d spoken and Michael had pieced it together that Dean had to have been more than friends with Lisa. Baby, Dean had said, a baby had torn them apart.

Dean stared back at Michael as the silence hung heavy between them, eyes flitting across the face of the man opposite him. The man was distraught and confused and Dean felt worse with every passing minute. He’d clearly ruined the man’s life and while that hadn’t been his intent, it had always been the inevitable outcome.

“You weren’t just friends, were you?” Michael said at last.

Dean shook his head.

“Why come back into her life after so many years away? It makes no sense. And the baby, what the fuck are you talking about? There’s never been a baby. She would’ve told me if there was.”

“There was a baby, Michael.” Dean admitted, deciding to let the truth out. “It wasn’t my plan to come here and wreck your life which is probably what I’m doing right now but there’s been a development and I can’t let it slide.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Dean sighed deeply, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I have proof. If you want to see it, that is.”

Michael remained staring at Dean, jaw clenched in a tense line. There was nothing he could hear aside from the roaring of his heart in his eardrums and the rush of blood in his throat. Here was this man, this random man, sitting in his kitchen and saying that not only was he Lisa’s ex-boyfriend but that they had had a child together. It didn’t make sense but Lisa had always been so cagey about her past.

“Show me. Please.”

Dean nodded his head and pulled his chair closer to Michael’s before pulling his phone from his pocket. He’d burned all of the physical photos of Lisa with Ben the night before but he’d been unable to part with all of them, keeping several of them as photos of the paper photos on his phone. Perhaps it was a reminder to keep himself aware of what a relationship like that could do to someone or maybe it was a reminder that he could do better and deserved better. Either way, it was important now.

The first photograph Dean pulled up was an old one, a photo taken when the pair were eighteen. Lisa, eight months pregnant and showing heavily, leaned against a smiling Dean who had his arm wrapped around her shoulder. It was unmistakable how close the pair were, the shimmer of a lip gloss stained kiss imprinted on Dean’s cheek like the guilty kiss of Judas.

“When was that?” Michael asked quietly, eyes zeroed in on the photo.

“September, 2008. A month before our son was born.”

Michael stared back at Dean, unblinking eyes burning and beginning to shine. He didn’t believe, not yet. The threshold was fast approaching him but he couldn’t bring himself to step over it, to accept what Dean was showing him.

Dean swiped, showing Michael another photo. In it there were three, Dean standing next to Lisa in a hospital bed as she held a small red faced baby swaddled in a blue blanket. Dean knew the photo well and his heart ached when he saw the first well of tears in Michael’s eyes.

“That’s my wife.” He whispered. “And you and a baby. There was a baby before ours.”

“His name is Ben, he’s almost 16.” Dean said as he put his phone away, hands curling around the cold mug of coffee. “He’s why I’m here.”

“How could she not tell me?” Michael whispered to himself, head nearly in his hands. It was too much for him, this terrible knowledge burned into his brain. There had been one before, a baby before, but that wasn’t what dug its barbs into his heart and threatened to break it. What broke him was the lie; the cosmic seismic lie that Lisa had told him when their son had been born, when they had exchanged their wedding vows, when they had renewed them just two months ago. The lie that their son, their pride and joy, was her first and her last child.

“It was a complicated situation, Lisa and I.” Dean said, beginning to explain. “She wanted nothing to do with me or our son and I didn’t force it. She left two days after he was born and that was that. There was no contact, no warning, nothing but a letter from her that I refused to open.”

“I know my wife and she would never abandon a child, especially hers.” Michael said firmly, denying what Dean was telling him. “She’d never abandon me or our son, I know it.”

“I’m not trying to say what she does or doesn’t feel for you or your son, that’s not my place. What I’m trying to get at is that something happened between her and my son yesterday and she needs to answer for it.”

“You just said she abandoned you and your kid so why would she meet him yesterday? That makes literally no sense.”

Dean sighed again, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I didn’t exactly tell my kid about what happened with your wife and to make a long story short he found out and he met with her yesterday to get the truth he was convinced I didn’t tell him. That’s when your wife put her hands on him.”

“She would never!” Michael reacted, anger piercing through his veil of disbelief. Immediately he was on his feet, the beginnings of telling Dean to get out of his house on his tongue. The words died in his mouth when he saw the final photo on Dean’s phone.

Five finger shaped bruises ringed an arm clearly belonging to a teenage boy and Michael felt bile rise in his throat. Part of him wanted to check the timestamp, to see if the photo was accurate, but he barely had time to process that because the front door was opening and people were arriving home.

Silence fell over the kitchen, broken only by two sets of footsteps as Lisa and her son made their way into the kitchen. Lisa saw Michael first, emotional and disturbed, and then her eyes slid over to Dean. The blood drained from her face when she realized who it was and she froze.

The boy with her paused, staring at the horrified looks of his parents and the stranger at the table. “Whatever this is, I’m not dealing with it.” He announced before he turned on heels and walked out. The last thing he wanted was to deal with three adults on his weekend off from school and work.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Lisa hissed at Dean, breaking the silence. “Get the fuck out of my house.”

“We need to talk.”

“We don’t need to do anything.” She replied sharply, turning to Michael. Reaching out, she out a hand on his shoulder and shook it in order to get his attention. “Get him out of our house.”

“Is it true?” Michael asked, removing Lisa’s hand from his shoulder. “Is what Dean told me true?”

Lisa turned again, eyes burning a hole through Dean’s face. Like Ben had said, her eyes were dark and empty like a shark’s. There was no light in them and she made sure of it. “What did you tell him?”

“I told him that you put hands on our son and that I’d like to speak to you about it.”

Lisa swallowed thickly, eyes flitting back to Michael. She softened her gaze, her eyes glimmering with something akin to forming tears, as she thought on her feet. The damage had already been done but there had to be a way to undo it, or to lessen it at the very least.

“Michael, clearly Dean’s not well.” She said, gesturing to him. “There’s a reason I left and a reason I don’t talk about him. He’s lying, I have no idea where he got the idea that I even know who his son is. Let alone that I spoke to him and grabbed him.”

Michael’s expression, the grief written across his face, grew dourer as he faced his wife once again. He didn’t know what to believe or how to wrap his head around what he was hearing. Of course there were the photos that Dean had showed him and they seemed authentic. After all, why would this man appear and try to win back his ex after 16 years of no contact.

“He has pictures, Lisa.” Michael said quietly. “Pictures of you pregnant, of you in the hospital with him and a baby. I’ve seen the pictures of the bruises. Tell me the truth, please. You know it’s the least I deserve after how long we’ve been together. Did you have a kid with him?”

“I did.”

“And you left that kid?”

“I did.”

“Why would you-“

Lisa interrupted Michael before he could finish, a deep sigh falling from her lips. It was a sigh that said she was frustrated the jig was up, that she was inconvenienced by Dean showing back up in her life and taking a wrecking ball to everything she’d carefully built for the past decade. “It’s complicated but to make it entirely too short, I didn’t love him. I didn’t love my ex and I didn’t want or plan to have a child that soon or with him.”

Michael nodded his head, trying to wrap his thoughts around the admissions from the woman he clearly didn’t know at all. Shocking revelations aside, there was still the issue of whether or not the bruises in the photo Dean had shown him were true.

“What about what Dean’s saying happened yesterday? Are the bruises in that photograph real? Did you really do that to your son?”

“Did I do it intentionally, no. Contrary to Dean’s intention to paint me as a heartless monster, I don’t enjoy harming children.” Lisa said calmly, side-eyeing Dean with a look she hoped would give him pause. “I left for a reason and I don’t particularly enjoy being hunted down by a stranger drumming up a past I’d rather not recall.”

“Intentional or not, it’s still assault. You’re lucky my son wants to move on and away from you. We’d be pressing charges otherwise.” Dean muttered, eyes seeking out Lisa’s. He’d long flown past the burning anger and had settled into an eerie calmness. She’d made her bed and now she was laying in it.

“Why are you even here anyway? I mean it’s typical of you to come barreling into my life just to ruin it. You did it then and you’re doing it now. Don’t you ever get tired of it?”

Dean rose to his feet, movements slow and steady. He was done now, done with the conversation and with Lisa. “I just wanted to make sure that you’ll continue to stay away from my kid in the future, that’s all. I really truly wish you the best in the future. I hope you get exactly what you deserve.”

Michael stood there, caught directly in between Dean and Lisa. He still couldn’t seem to process exactly what had happened and what he had learned but he was quickly coming to terms with the fact that he didn’t know his wife at all and that he likely never would’ve had Dean not appeared and explained everything. Part of him wanted to sit down with Lisa and get to the bottom of what had been revealed but the other part of him refused. It was too early, too fresh, and he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He needed to sit with his thoughts before he could sit with hers.

“We’ll talk later.” He told Lisa as he followed Dean outside. “Dean, wait!”

Dean paused at the end of the driveway, turning around. The devastation evident on Michael’s face was enough to churn Dean’s stomach and he felt guilt steamroll through him. “I didn’t mean to screw up your relationship with Lisa, I’m sorry about that. You seem like a nice guy and you don’t deserve the fallout for things you didn’t know.”

“Not your fault she hid things from me either. I mean a little warning would’ve been nice but not sure how you could’ve. I just- thank you for being honest.”

“For what it’s worth, you’re welcome.” Dean shrugged. “I’m going now, I’ve got to make sure my kid hasn’t destroyed the house. I hope you’re able to get everything you want out of life and move on from this. You’re a decent guy and it seems like you care about your kid.”

“If I get out of this on the other side, we should really start an emotional support club. Where can I get ahold of you?”

Dean thought for a moment before fishing around in his pockets. He scribbled his number on the back of a Costco receipt before handing it over to Michael. “You can reach me here if you want to. Good luck.”

As Dean drove back towards Paradise Hills, he allowed himself to think and reminisce. He’d expected a myriad of emotions when he’d finally laid eyes on Lisa: blistering anger, crashing drowning sorrow, sharp agony, a million and one little things to tug at his heartstrings. But none of them had come and that left him with more questions than answers.

Dean had felt nothing when he looked at Lisa. He wasn’t angry at her for her leaving, though he was for what she’d done to Ben, and he didn’t mourn her loss either. There were no tears in his eyes as he thought about what they had had or what the could’ve had because he knew that what he had, what he had with Ben and those around him, was all that he needed. There was still hurt, there would always be hurt, but it was manageable and Dean was okay with that. He was ready to move on and to be a better man for himself and for Ben.

Despite the fact he felt nothing for Lisa, he was still angry with the lack of immediate fallout for her actions. He had no doubt that Michael would leave her, he seemed like he had a decent head on his shoulders, but it didn’t quite feel like enough. It came as no surprise to Dean when he found himself driving down a street and pulling into an all too familiar driveway.

Charlie was in her front yard spray painting some foam she’d cut and shaped for a cosplay of hers when she heard the familiar rumble of the impala, glancing up to see Dean emerging. She could see the furrow of his brows and the clench of his jaw and she was getting up, cosplay breastplate all but forgotten. “You’re upset, what happened?”

“Do you remember when you ruined Dick Roman’s life in junior year?”

“I remember giving him exactly what he deserved for being a conniving jackass who didn’t understand the word no.” She replied, suspicion growing. “Why, do you need me to go all hammer of justice on someone for you?”

“She hurt my kid.”

Charlie didn’t dignify that with words. Instead she grabbed Dean by the hand and dragged him inside, pulling him past the living room and kitchen and into her home office. Dean, who hadn’t seen the office yet and wants to try to take the details in, found himself focusing on his best friend instead.

He’d only ever seen her like this once before, when her mother had finally passed. It was an intense singlemindedness that seemed to possess Charlie whenever she needed to focus. Dean would’ve been impressed if it wasn’t so damn terrifying.

She said nothing as she sat down at her desk and booted up her setup, simply putting her hands together and cracking her fingers as she got to work. It was Dean who broke the silence, awkwardly hovering behind her. “What exactly are you doing?”

“I’ve never liked Lisa, just for the record. You were too good for her in high school and you’re certainly too good for her now.” She said, heading for a file saved on her desktop. “I have this nasty little habit, I think my ex called it insane and illegal, and it probably is to a degree, but I like to keep tabs on my enemies. Enemies like Lisa.”

Dean, equal parts grateful and horrified that Charlie was the way she was, nodded his head. “You really kept tabs all these years?”

“Dean, she abandoned you and Ben and was also just always horrible so yeah, I’ve kept tabs. Give me enough time and I can tell you every single horrible thing she’s done in the last decade and a half. But I know you and how you work so we’re gonna do this diplomatically.”

“I don’t think character assassination can be diplomatic.”

“Oh you have so much to learn. But you gotta tell me what happened with her and Ben that made you want to maybe go nuclear?”

Dean nodded and took a deep breath to steady himself before he began to explain. He told Charlie about Ben’s meeting with Lisa, burning the photos of her, and of his confrontation with her and her husband just hours earlier. It was as he detailed Michael and Lisa’s reactions to the entire affair that the sinking feeling manifested in his stomach. In the heat of the moment it had seemed like the right thing to do to talk to them but now he wasn’t so sure. Would he be ruining Ben’s half-brother’s chance at a normal life because of his own vendetta?

Charlie listened as Dean talked but continued to face her screen, pulling up bits and pieces from various files until she heard him stop. That’s when she turned around in her office chair, hands folded delicately over her lap. “I can do a lot of things to ruin her life, if that’s what you want. There’s enough information for at least three separate criminal charges, an IRS investigation, a divorce, loss of custody, and maybe probably loss of employment. If it were up to me I’d do all of it but I’m not you and she did hurt your kid so…”

“I already know her husband’s going to ask for a divorce, that’s obvious. Not that I know the guy super well but he’ll want the kid and she might fight for him but I don’t think it’ll end in her favour so I don’t know if I really want that leaked out there.”

“So you think the family stuff will resolve itself?”

Dean nodded his head.

“Okay, fine. I still want a little bit of it out there, just so that the husband has enough evidence to get what he wants in the divorce and custody battle. Are you okay with that?”

“Yeah that’s fine. What were you thinking about the other stuff?”

“The key here is to just keep the onslaught of misery coming so I propose we start with the family stuff and then right when she’s in the middle of dealing with that in the courts with a lawyer, that’s when we start with the other stuff. Maybe something gets leaked about her business practices or that she conveniently hasn’t paid her taxes in the last five years or that she ran a red light and almost hit a pedestrian on March 13^th, 2018.”

Dean’s eyes widened and he stepped back out of habit. “Please remind me to never get on your bad side.”

“Well if the moondor info doesn’t work out then I might just have to leak your thing for cowboys.” Charlie teased, grinning when Dean’s horror grew. She was kidding and she knew he knew that.

“You’re horrible.”

“And that’s why you love me.”

Dean rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. He did love Charlie and there wasn’t a timeline or universe where that would ever change. She was the barely contained chaos to whatever he had going on and ore than that, she was dependable. She was hilarious and dependable and willing to ruin someone’s life just to help out her friend and the godson she hadn’t seen in a decade. 

“You’re really willing to put all of this out there just to make sure she suffers?” Dean asked cautiously. “Because this feels kind of illegal and I know you know what you’re doing but the last thing I want is for you to get in shit at work or lose your job or have any repercussions because you were helping me.”

“Dude, I already work for the government and I guarantee you they’ve noticed the shit I’ve been doing. At this point it’s a game I’m playing with them because I’m about 90% sure that if I really put my mind to it I could hack like NORAD or something and recruited.”

“Please don’t hack NORAD and get arrested. Or at least wait until after you’ve put out the stuff about Lisa.”

“You’re really letting me Hansel and Gretel a trail to ruin her life. Wow, didn’t think I’d see the day.”

“She fucked with my kid and that’s not okay. I can deal with her fucking shit but he doesn’t deserve to and I’m just so fucking angry that he had to.” Dean admitted, leaning against the desk to steady himself. “I just want him to be a normal teenager and have crushes and do sports and be worried about getting his license, not about whether his egg donor’s going to assault him or when his dad’s going to lose his shit.”

Charlie pursed her lips, picking up on a tone in Dean’s voice she didn’t like. She’d heard it before and it hadn’t ended well. “Hey, stop it. You’re not allowed to get all down and depressed and worried that you’re not being a good dad because you are.”

“I’m not getting down on myself.”

“Yes the fuck you are and don’t lie to me because I will hack your technology and watch you just to prove a point.”

Dean sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Sorry.”

“Dude, you don’t have to apologize. You’ve had a shit time since you’ve moved down so none one blames you for dropping the ball and then trying to pick it up again. You’re doing your best and I think everyone who has eyes can see that. Maybe not Ben but he’s a teenager and we both know they’re all kind of idiots.”

Dean offered Charlie a grateful smile, almost relieved that she was being so chill about everything. She’d always been level headed and her lovable bullying was something he was appreciating more with every passing day. “Thanks. Means a lot.”

“I bet and you’re welcome.” She replied. “Now not to kick you out or anything but I really need to get back to my breastplate and to ruining Lisa’s life. Neither of those things will of themselves.”

“I should be getting back to Ben anyway, promised him takeout and he wanted sushi so the cat could have some.”

“Speaking of those two, I’m gonna swing by one day after work to properly meet them. Doubt Ben remembers me and we both know I’m a big fan of pussy.”

Dean snorted, shaking his head in amusement. Leave it to Charlie to lighten his mood. He made sure to thank her for everything she was doing for him one more time before he turned and left, planning on grabbing the takeout and heading home.

~

The second Ben heard Dean’s car head down the street, he set Spork down on the floor and got up. He had plans and they weren’t plans he thought Dean would be particularly fond of given who they were with. It had been about two weeks since Claire had shown him the truth and his life had spiraled into chaos and now it was time to talk to her again. Between the rocky road to forgiveness that he and Dean were beginning to walk and the complete removal of his egg donor from his life, Ben was in a forgiving mood.

He headed out of the house a few minutes later, hands shoved in his pockets as he made his way over to Cas’. The plan had been to knock on the door and hope that someone who would let him see Claire would open the door and let him in but life had other plans. Cas was sitting on the porch with a book of crosswords and some kind of beverage in an ugly handmade mug.

“Morning Mr. Novak.” Ben said as he approached, cursing inwardly. There was no way in hell Cas was going to let him see Claire.

Cas glanced up from his book of crosswords, offering Ben a warm but curious smile. He set the book aside and his curiosity got the best of him. It seemed odd that Ben would be over here. “Your dad know you’re over here?”

“Considering he’s off confronting my egg donor, no. No he does not.”

“Ah yes, he did bring that up to me this morning.” Cas nodded. “How have things been since the argument? Not that it’s any of my business to pry but…”

“They’re getting better, I think. Gonna take a while and I definitely think dad and I need to work on a bunch of shit but I guess that’s fine. Is there any chance I can convince you to let me see Claire?”

Cas raised an eyebrow before folding his hands in his lap. “Why exactly do you want to see her?”

“I want to know why she did what she did, that’s why.” Ben said honestly. “I’m still upset and I don’t really think that that’s going to go away but maybe an explanation will help. And I know she’s in trouble right now and really isn’t supposed to see anyone but I feel like this is good time for an exception.”

Ben’s reasoning seemed sound enough and despite Cas’ remaining ire at his daughter for what she had done, it wasn’t him that had been hurt by her actions. She’d hurt Ben and here he was, seeking out an explanation for her actions. Who was he to deny Ben his chance at forgiveness?

“A half hour, that’s what I’m giving you but only if you swear to tell your father about this. I am not about to be embroiled in another Winchester faceoff if I can help it.”

“You won’t regret this, I promise. Thank you.” Ben mumbled. He walked past Cas and into the house, heading upstairs to Claire’s room. While he’d only been in it a few times, he knew the way well and was hoping that Claire would be there when he arrived.

Claire was there, just as anticipated. Her back was to the door as she sat huddled up at her desk, massive hoodie flowing over the side of the chair and her legs drawn up to her chest. She had an arm around her legs and her right resting on the desk, scribbling away with a pencil. There was no music or television or anything to keep her busy or entertained. It felt a bit lonely and Ben felt his heart pang lightly in his chest.

“Hey…” He said quietly, knocking on the open door.

Claire startled, muscles jerking and sending her spilling from her chair and onto her floor. She hit it with a wince, swearing under her breath as her elbow connected with it. A moment passed while Claire got her breath and regained her senses, turning on the floor to see who had knocked on her door. Her eyes widened when she realized who it was.

“Ben?” She said, climbing to her feet.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” He said, trying to put her at ease. “Your dad kind of only gave me a half hour so mind if I come in?”

Claire nodded her head, quickly pulling herself to her feet. She didn’t quite know how to handle what was happening or what exactly to do so she ended up sitting on her bed, still waiting. Ben stepped into her room, hovering for a moment before deciding he was going to sit on the bed next to her.

“So why exactly are you here?” Claire asked as the bed dipped beside her. “Has to be a good reason if dad let you in here.”

“It’s about my mom.”

Claire’s shoulders tensed at the mention of Ben’s mom. That entire ordeal had been nothing but trouble and here it was rearing its ugly head again. She’d only heard the tail end of Ben’s argument with Dean but it hadn’t been pretty. Neither had Cas’ reaction and she was still paying for that one.

“What about her?” She asked, trying to play it cool.

“Why’d you offer to help me find her?”

“I’ve already told you why. I wanted you to know the truth because you deserved to know what happened with your mom. It just seemed like the right thing to do.”

Ben’s expression shifted, the fluttering returning to his stomach. It wasn’t the fluttering he usually attributed to Claire but instead the fluttering of suspicion and anxiety he had come to attribute to his father. The fluttering told him that Claire wasn’t being entirely truthful with him, that there was some kind of hidden truth or lie she had yet to tell him.

“Are you really sure that’s the only reason?” Ben asked cautiously, trying to tiptoe around sounding suspicious. Too much prodding and Claire would get pissed at him but not enough and Cas would interrupt them before he had a chance to get answers. Not that it mattered because Ben had already said something that had upset Claire.

She bristled away from him at his words, getting to her feet to pace around the fuzzy black carpet she’d laid down on her floor. “Figures you’d react like that since everyone else has. I’ll tell you what they’ve all told me and then you can make up your mind. They’ve all told me that I’m impulsive and careless and did it because I wanted to cause chaos and to see what would happen. Do you really think I’m the kind of person who’d cause chaos on purpose?”

Ben spoke without thinking, something he regretted almost immediately.

“I don’t know you well enough to answer that.”

Claire, already frustrated by what was happening, decided to just unload. Everyone else pointed out here character flaws so it made sense she’d point them out as well.

“I’ll tell you what everyone else I know’s told me then. They tell me I’m selfish and impulsive and don’t think things through and I’m sure part of them is probably right but it still sucks. Kaia told me I should’ve considered your feelings and dad called me impulsive and Jack, well I guess they weren’t mean but they didn’t exactly take my side either. I wanted you to know the truth because you deserve to and because I’ve been there and knowing what I know about my parents, well- I wouldn’t want to know anything else. And this I guess, if I’m being really honest, is where I prove them all right. I wanted to know if I could find her. I wanted to see if I was good enough at surfing the internet to find her.”

“You wanted to see if you could.” Ben repeated, “Is that the only reason you helped?”

“Obviously I wanted you to know the truth too.”

“If there hadn’t been a challenge to find my mom, would you have helped?”

Claire hesitated, searching for an answer that wouldn’t dig a deeper hole for her. Unfortunately, the hesitation told Ben everything he needed to know. Hurt coursed through him, hurt and frustration that someone he considered a friend had been agreed to help him for selfish reasons. He stood up and went to leave, stopped only by Claire reaching for his hand.

“Ben, wait, please.” She said, fingers grazing his hand and ultimately missing. “If I’d known that this was gonna happen Ben I’d never have offered to help. I didn’t want to hurt you, it just happened.”

Ben stopped just past Claire’s door, turning slightly in the hallway so she could at least hear what he had to say. “Our half hour’s up. I’m gonna need some time to sit with this. Bye Claire.”

With that he left, heading downstairs and back outside. He waved awkwardly at Cas as a thank you for indulging his wants before returning home. Spork was there and waiting for Ben’s return, loud meows echoing from somewhere in the living room.

“Jesus dude, what did you get into?” Ben mumbled as he followed the sounds of the meows, stopping just in front of the couch. Spork was there, his calico coloured face protruding from the arm of a sweater Dean had left on the couch. His body remained in the rest of the arm, stuck in the tube with no hope of escape. Upon noticing Ben, Spork’s complaints grew until Ben took pity on him and removed him from his fabric cage. Spork, freed from his prison, decided Ben’s lap was the place to be and settled down there.

A few minutes later Dean was walking through the front door, takeout bags in hand. He plunked them down on the coffee table before sitting in the chair next to the couch. There was a lightness about him, a weird lack of heavy emotion that Ben found strange. He’d expected Dean to be teary or to look angry or to look even resigned but there wasn’t any of that. He just looked like it was every other Saturday and nothing was going on.

“How’d it go?” Ben asked cautiously, hands tightening around Spork so the cat didn’t leap at the plastic bags full of food. “Cuz you seem weirdly okay right now.”

“Pretty sure I just singlehandedly caused a divorce and ruined two lives so uh, it was fine I guess. Her husband’s a really nice guy so I feel really bad.”

“Did you see her?”

Dean nodded his head, turning his attention to the bags he’d brought with him. He pulled the containers out and the second he had, Spork was wriggling free from Ben’s grasp and launching himself at the coffee table. He hit it with a thud and with a plastic bag firmly in his paws, he jumped to the floor to wrestle with it.

“He’s just like you when you were a kid.” Dean mused. Despite his disdain and mild allergy to cats, he found Spork rather entertaining. “Granted you weren’t so much into the plastic bags as you were taking apart our dining room chairs.”

“I don’t think I was that bad. But you saw her and you seem okay. Why do you seem okay?”

Dean shrugged his shoulders, reaching for the sushi he’d gotten himself. “Like I said last night, I’m tired of letting her ruin my life. Any lingering goodwill I had for her vanished when she hurt you. Besides, she’s not exactly what I’m looking for anymore. Also I gave Charlie the okay to go nuclear on her and I know you probably don’t remember Charlie but that okay means Lisa’s not going to recover for a very long time.”

“I’m glad you’re not a wreck but it’s kind of freaking me out.” Ben admitted. He reached for his sushi, surprised to see that Dean had actually listened and picked up some sashimi as well. “Glad Charlie was willing to help, Lisa deserves to not recover. Can I tell you something, just cuz you’re in a good mood?”

Dean raised an eyebrow but remained silent, deciding it was better to react after he’d heard Ben out.

“I went to see Claire today, just for a half hour and her dad said it was fine as long as I told you. I just wanted to know why she did what she did. Answer wasn’t great and you were kind of maybe right so I’m not really talking to her. So please don’t be too mad at me.”

“I’m not mad, you can relax.” Dean said, reaching to take the sashimi out of the final bag. “Thanks for telling me.”

The rustling of the plastic caught Spork’s attention, his current plastic bag forgotten. He singled in on the sashimi freed from the lid of the packaging and launched himself at Dean with the fervor of a madman. Spork landed on Dean’s leg and crawled up, claws hooked into his jeans. Upon reaching Dean’s lap, Spork proceeded to bury his face in the tray of raw fish and munch away.

Dean, who had yet to get anywhere near Spork, thanks to his allergies and his disdain, stared at Ben with a look of mild alarm. “This is why I don’t fuck with cats. Is this normal?”

“He’s a cat and you’ve got raw fish, this is totally normal.” Ben laughed, pulling out his phone to snap a quick picture before Dean could rid himself of the cat. “He got himself stuck in the arm of your sweater earlier.”

“And that explains why my sweaters are making me itchy.”

“Stop leaving em around and it wouldn’t be an issue. Besides, you should be happy your grandson wants to spend time with you.”

“Never say that again.” Dean mumbled. He very gingerly removed the sashimi from Spork’s grip and set it on the coffee table before picking the cat up and setting him down, handling him as if he were an armed explosive. “I’m not a grandparent and I will kill you if you make me one in any capacity before you’re 25.”

“Woah okay, no teenage pregnancy from me so you can relax.”

“Okay good. I can deal with that. Now eat and deal with your cat so I can take an allergy pill and get out to my shop. I’ve got stuff to work on.”

“I think Spork would make great company for you while you do whatever you do. I’ve gotta do homework tonight and I need my laptop which is kind of an issue because he thinks it’s his bed. So if you want me to pass chem then you’re gonna have to entertain the cat.”

Dean, less than impressed with Ben’s suggestion, decided not to argue with him about it. The sit down meal and conversation was more than Dean had hoped for considering what had been happening and he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. They ate in silence and when Dean was finished he collected all of the containers in the plastic bag before chucking them out,

“I’m gonna head out to the back to work and I’ll take the calico menace with me. Don’t stay up too late doing homework, okay?”

“I won’t, I promise. Don’t die in the shop.”

Dean chuckled and left Ben after that, heading out to the shop to spend the night working on the baby crib with Spork as his supervisor.

Chapter Text

“You know Spork, I’ve never liked cats.” Dean admitted. He’d been stood at the workbench for the past three hours, gently sanding the support columns of the crib that he had been asked to restore by Garth and Bess. “I don’t get your whole vibe. You don’t go for walks like dogs and you don’t really protect and you’re just not very energetic.”

Spork, who had spent the better part of two hours swatting at a socket wrench, simply meowed at Dean and continued his assault on the tools spread across the workbench.

“Granted we never really had pets growing up so maybe I’m just missing out on something. Still don’t like you reigning terror on my sweaters though. Save that shit for Ben.”

Spork ignored Dean, hardly interested in him now that he didn’t have food for him. What did catch Spork’s attention was the sudden movement and vibration of Dean’s phone as it went off. He swatted at it until it caught Dean’s attention and then Dean was picking it up, beyond irritated someone was calling him at 11 pm on a Sunday.

“Hello?”

There was silence for a moment before the person on the other end spoke. It was a male voice, not too deep or too high but somewhere in the middle. Something about it felt familiar but Dean couldn’t quite place it.

“Is this Dean Winchester?”

“Yeah. Who’s this?”

“It’s Sam.”

The recognition hit Dean square in the face and the surprise washed through him in a terribly unpleasant wave of heat. It was almost dizzying and he reached out to steady himself on the workbench, hand landing square on Spork. Spork swatted at him and wriggled out, leaping into the corner to get away from the sudden grabbing.

“Hey Dean, hello?” Sam asked, voice echoing in the shop when he didn’t get an immediate response.

“How’d you get this number? I only got it like 3 months ago.”

“Not important. Are you free, I kind of want to chat.”

“Almost 12 years of no contact and suddenly you want to talk, seriously?” Dean muttered, less than impressed. “Did mom put you up to this because I’m not talking to her?”

Damning silence on Sam’s end. Dean’s anger grew when there was no response and he sighed deeply, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“Now’s really not a good time, I’m kind of busy. Tell mom I’m fine if you’re both that concerned. I really don’t care.”

Sam began to speak but Dean wasn’t having it and hung up. 12 years of no contact and the first thing Sam did wasn’t ask how he was or say he was sorry or anything like that. It was out of the blue and Dean was more incensed than he ought to have been.

“I really hope you don’t have any siblings, Spork.” Dean said as he glanced over at the cat who had perched himself upon a precarious tower of teakwood piled in the corner. “They’re kind of assholes. Sam is anyway.”

Spork blinked at Dean as if to say that he didn’t particularly care before hopping down from the wood pile and trotting over to the closed workshop door. From there he began to paw and scratch, asking to be let out. Dean, who had planned to spend a few more hours in the shop, was shaken enough by the sudden phone call to know to call it quits. He made sure everything was I a place he could easily find before he opened the door to let Spork out, locking it behind him and heading for the house.

Ben was in the kitchen when Dean returned, chemistry textbook and notebook open on the kitchen table next to a bowl of popcorn. He glanced up at the footsteps, surprised to see Spork weaving in between Dean’s feet as he walked. “Was Spork good company?”

“I think he’s in love with my socket wrench but he’s fine otherwise.” Dean shrugged. “How’s the homework?”

“Good, almost done. Just gotta do a couple more stoichiometry questions.”

Dean nodded his head, train of thought falling apart when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced down to see who was texting, lips pursing into a frown of displeasure when he saw the unfamiliar number and the message.

“Why do you look like you just ate a lemon?” Ben asked, setting his homework aside and picking up Spork instead.

“Because your grandmother gave my number to your uncle and he’s decided he wants to talk to me.”

“The uncle I’ve never met?”

“You’ve only got one uncle so yeah, that one. He called me like ten minutes ago and wanted to talk. Thought it was kind of weird.”

“Did you talk?”

“Not really. I’m not exactly interested in talking to him.”

That piqued Ben’s curiosity, noticeably so. He’d never really heard Dean talk about his brother before so hearing that the estranged uncle somehow had his father’s phone number was more than a little surprising. “Why did you two stop talking?”

“D’you want the short answer or the long answer?”

“Short. I kinda want to go to bed and no offence but I don’t want more traumatic family lore right now.”

“Short answer is he moved away for school and we just lost touch and drifted apart.”

Ben nodded his head, satisfied with the short answer. There was more to it, obviously, but that was another skeleton for another time. His mother’s skeleton, while no longer in the closet, still lingered. He stacked his homework in a corner of the kitchen table with his free hand before standing, now cradling Spork who was busy swatting at his hoodie string.

“I’m gonna go to bed I think, I’ll see you in the morning dad.”

“Night kiddo.” Dean said, waving Ben off to bed. He decided that it was still a titch too early for bed so he plunked himself down on the couch in front of the tv, intent on rotting his brain with whatever was on that night.

~

When Ben woke up on Sunday morning he was expecting the smell of a freshly cooked breakfast and freshly brewed coffee. What he got instead was the fading smell of freshly brewed coffee and no breakfast in sight. There was no Spork either, the cat woefully absent from his post beside Ben’s pillow.

He rolled out of bed and shoved his feet into slippers before making his way downstairs. Dean wasn’t in the kitchen or the living room but Ben could hear the telltale sounds of power tools and wasn’t too worried. The workshop had become Dean’s safe haven and ever since their fight about Lisa, his dad had spent every free minute he wasn’t working or chatting Cas up in there.

Still, Dean being out in the shop didn’t explain the lack of cat in the house. Spork, for all of his chaos, was a people cat and if he wasn’t glued to Ben then he was glued to whoever else was around. Ben made himself a cup of coffee with the bitter dregs that remained in the pot and took a peak into the backyard. Spork was there, his long body running around as he terrorized the squirrels.

“Yeah that tracks.” Ben mumbled to himself. Spork’s antics were amusing but more amusing than that was the bond blooming between cat and dad, the bond that Dean had proclaimed would never happen because he wasn’t a cat guy and he hadn’t wanted Spork in the first place. He supposed that was how a lot of people bonded with others in the first place.

Ben turned towards the fridge, planning to scrounge for some breakfast, but found himself interrupted. Three hesitant knocks at the front door echoed through the house and Ben huffed in irritation. He hadn’t been told about any guests and he wasn’t exactly in the mood to greet someone while still in his batman pajama pants. The knob was cold in his hand as he pulled the door open, half expecting to be greeted by Cas or one of the other neighbours.

The man on the other side of the door wasn’t Cas or a neighbour but someone new entirely. Ben craned his neck as he stared up at the man with long hair and a professional air about him. The man was dressed like a professional, a blue dress shirt and navy slacks accompanied by a black briefcase and tragically sensible loafers.

“Can I help you?” Ben asked, arms crossed over his chest.

“Maybe. I’m looking for Dean Winchester and I was told this is his address.”

“And who exactly are you?”

The man sighed, running a hand through his shaggy hair. “Sam Winchester, his younger brother. You’re Ben I take it.”

Ben blinked in disbelief, though he was hardly surprised. After the phone call his dad had told him about, it was only a matter of time before something like this happened. Not that Ben knew much about his uncle but Sam wasn’t what he expected. He was taller than expected for one, and the business casual dress was a little insane for a Sunday morning when there was nothing to do and nowhere to go. Faced with the unexpected, Ben panicked.

“Dad’s out back right now. Do you uh, do you want coffee? I can grab him if you wanna come in.”

“Coffee would be great, thanks.”

Ben nodded and let Sam in, closing the door behind him. Anxiety was mounting as he led Sam to the kitchen and let him sit down, back turned to him as he started brewing a new pot of coffee. While it brewed Ben retrieved the sugar and the milk, setting it down on the table in front of Sam.

“I’m gonna go get dad and he’s probably gonna be pissed so just be ready for that.” Ben said before he turned on his heels and made his way to the backyard.

His dread grew with each step closer to the shop and by the time he made it to the shop door, his heart was beating in his throat and he thought he might throw up. He knocked, three short raps on the open door, and waited.

Dean, who was knelt on the ground staining the sanded and newly carved support columns, looked up. He seemed content, the smile on his face one that Ben knew as a smile of contentment and accomplishment. It wouldn’t last long.

“Morning Kiddo.” He said, wiping his hands on his jeans before standing up. “Wasn’t too loud out here was I?”

“No, you were fine. Got a little weirded out when Spork wasn’t there to harass me for breakfast. How’s the crib?”

“Yeah that’s my bad, he was wandering this morning so I fed him and figured he wouldn’t mind some time in the backyard.” Dean said. As he stood there talking with Ben, he began to pick up on a vibe. It started with the wrinkles on Ben’s forehead, continued with the tense posture of his body, and ended with the fact he had sought Dean out in the first place. “Do you need anything? Just weird for you to be out here this early.”

“Don’t kill me for this but you’ve got a visitor.”

“Why would I kill you for a visitor?”

“Because it’s your brother and he’s sitting in the kitchen drinking the good coffee.”

“Oh for the love of fuck.” Dean mumbled under his breath, not bothering to hide his irritation. “I’m gonna go deal with that. Are you wanting to sit in on it? Because I’d really rather you didn’t.”

“Are you gonna fill me in on what happens?”

Dean sighed but nodded his head in the end. “Are you staying out here?”

“Yeah. I wanna see if Spork can catch a squirrel.”

Dean left the conversation there, trudging towards the house. A mix of emotions churned in his stomach the closer he got to the back door, anxiety making up the base while frustration and bitter resentment took up the top notes. He’d resented Sam the entirety of his adult life and the prospect of seeing his estranged brother after all of the turmoil he’d been dealing with was less than appealing. Part of him wondered if Sam had only reached out because Dean had cut communication with Mary for the time being.

Whatever expectations Dean had for who Sam was and what he looked like were blown away when he finally laid eyes on his younger brother. Sam had been 18 the last time they’d spoken and here he was at 29, the baby fat long gone from his chubby cheeks. He was all leg and Dean felt horror spike through him when Sam stood up and he had to crane his head up to meet his gaze.

“You’ve got better taste in coffee since the last time I saw you.” Sam said, trying to break the ice.

“Thank the neighbour for that one. He bitched at me for drinking instant and gave me that to try.” Dean replied simply. “Why are you here?”

“Right to the point then. I can respect that. I’m here because I was wrong.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, leaning against the counter and settling in. Whatever was about to go down was going to be interesting at the very least. He didn’t exactly know what to expect but it certainly wasn’t Sam admitting that he had been wrong about something. Being as stubborn as he was, Dean remained silent. If Sam wanted to explain then he would.

“I don’t regret going to Cali for school, let me make that perfectly clear.” Sam began. “That was the best choice for me, gave me the best options. But I regret what I said to you and I regret cutting contact. It wasn’t fair, even though it was justifiable at the time, and I’m sorry.”

“In what world is cutting contact completely for 12 years justifiable? Maybe it would’ve been if I’d murdered your girlfriend or something but there isn’t a single thing I did otherwise that would’ve justified that. All I did was have a kid and lose a partner.”

Sam sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I was 14, Dean, not exactly the most mature. As far as I was concerned I was being ignored and neglected by everyone. You weren’t functional and because of it mom was way too busy taking care of you and Ben to even think about me. Combine that with the fact that you’re basically like my pseudo dad and you can see why I was upset. All four years I was in high school I was ignored by you and mom.”

“I didn’t exactly ask to be suicidally depressed with a newborn, Sam. Definitely would’ve preferred to avoid that one. I couldn’t exactly control any of that at the time.”

“I know that now but it’s a bit different when you’re younger. You and mom missed my high school graduation because of that and that’s what hammered that final nail I think.” Sam explained. “But I’m not here to dwell on that because we can’t go back and change it. I’m here to say that I didn’t handle it maturely and that I’m sorry we didn’t talk for so long. I want to talk again, to reconnect.”

Dean’s suspicion remained, his expression less than impressed. “Why now? Why not when you and your wife got married and conveniently forgot to invite me? Did mom put you up to this because I’m not talking to her?”

“I don’t know what went on between you and mom, she didn’t give me details. All she told me was that you two weren’t talking and that she was worried about you. As for the wedding thing, I do feel bad about that. Mom said you were finishing your apprenticeship and that everything was stressful and I also didn’t think you’d want to come all the way to Cali to talk to me.”

“I would’ve gone, just for the record.” Dean said. The longer he talked to Sam, the more his anxiety lessened. He wanted to be pissed at Sam, to be standoffish and kick him out, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Maybe it was that he was drained from all of the recent emotional turmoil or that he just wanted to move on and be better, either way he was in a forgiving mood. “How is your wife?”

Sam seemed surprised at Dean’s sudden interest but rolled with it. “She’s good, really good. Busy, we’ve got a lot going on.”

“You got a picture of her? I haven’t seen one yet.”

Sam nodded and pulled up a photo, showing Dean a photo. His wife, Jess, looked like a sweet woman. She was short and blonde with a kind smile, the kind of smile that radiated through the screen. Dean could see how much Sam loved her from just the photo.

“She’s pretty.” Dean said. “Good for you.”

“Thanks.”

An awkward silence settled in the kitchen, broken only by the squeaking of the backdoor as Ben and Spork shuffled inside. Ben made his way into the kitchen, Spork trotting by his feet. He glanced at Sam and his father, relaxing when he didn’t see any obvious tears or red faces. “You two aren’t killing each other, that’s good. Is it safe if I stay here and make lunch?”

“Fine by me.” Dean replied, watching Sam shrug indifferently.

Ben rummaged through the fridge for sandwich ingredients and then through the cabinets for a plate, setting everything down. He offered Spork an obligatory slice of ham before assembling the sandwich. “So, you two are talking again. Should I be expecting to see uncle Sam more?”

“Not unless you abandon me or he abandons Cali.”

Sam chuckled uncomfortably. “Funny you mention that cuz uh we’re moving down here in November.”

“Since when?” Dean asked, unable to hide his surprise.

“Since my firm wanted to open a branch down here and asked if I’d like to be a partner in their family law group.”

Dean blinked again, still staring at Sam. It was already hard to believe his estranged brother was sitting in his kitchen talking to him after over a decade and now he was hearing about a permanent move down. That was astronomically more intense and just as unbelievable. Already willing to work on bringing Sam back into the fold, Dean knew the path was now accelerated.

“That’s great, Sam, seriously. Congrats.”

“Thanks. I’m excited.” Sam said, pausing to glance down at his watch. “That being said, I have a meeting I really need to get to and yes, it was put on a Saturday because I came in from out of town. I’ll be here all week, maybe we can grab dinner with mom on Friday?”

“Might be awkward since we all know dad and grandma aren’t talking.” Ben interrupted.

Dean shot Ben a short glare, irritated that his son was correct. He hadn’t planned on talking to Mary in the foreseeable future but given Sam’s offer and the olive branch that was being offered, it would be foolish to ignore it. “I’ll talk to her. Can you do six for dinner? I kind of have night time plans Friday nights.”

“You seeing someone?”

“No, he just hangs out with the neighbour next door and watches like fourty year old housewife tv with him.” Ben explained. “It’s like a single dad bond thing I think.”

“He’s just a friend and I kind of blew him off last week and feel bad. Now is 6 fine?”

Sam nodded his head. “I can do that.” He was ready to go but hesitated, unsure if he should just leave or if he should turn and hug Dean. A hug would make things weird but it didn’t feel like they’d resolved all of their issues and a physical affirmation would be comforting. In the end Sam settled for an awkward goodbye and a somewhat tense look before he was slipping out the front door, leaving Ben and Dean in the kitchen.

“I don’t think that’s how I saw that going.” Dean mumbled to himself, wandering towards the coffee pot in a daze.

“Yeah I kind of assumed there’d be more yelling. You kind of tend to yell at people when you’re upset.”

“Do I really?”

Ben nodded his head, turning to the sink to wash his plate. “Yeah, you kind of do. Didn’t really want to point it out cuz I didn’t want to get yelled at.”

“Ah, well. I guess that’s a problem for Monday.”

“Why would you yelling be a Monday problem?”

“Because I’m going and talking to someone.” Dean admitted, unable to bring himself to say the word therapy. While everyone around him had been nothing but good and supportive about therapy, it was still hard to admit he needed it and was going. Not that he expected Ben to judge him but one never really knew. “Thought it might be a good idea.”

“That’s a great idea, seriously. If I was smart I’d probably talk to someone about the whole Lisa thing but I don’t really want to. Are you gonna go talk to grandma like you said you might?”

“Yeah, I think I am. Are you gonna come?”

Ben shook his head. “That’s something for you and grandma to talk about. I’m gonna stay here and avoid the drama.”

“Okay, that’s fine. Guess I’ll be back in a little bit then.”

“Good luck, have fun.”

Fun was certainly a choice word and the complete opposite of what Dean was expecting. As he began the drive to Mary’s, he allowed himself to reflect on his past and just how Sam and Mary had played a role in it.

Ben wouldn’t stop crying.

He’d started crying at 7 after refusing his bottle and Dean didn’t know what to do. Trying different formula and then a different temperature hadn’t worked and neither had burping or a diaper change. Ben’s face was beet red as he cried his lungs out and Dean stood there frazzled, desperately trying to rock Ben and calm him down.

“Please stop crying.” Dean begged, desperation colouring his voice.

Ben continued to wail and by minute 17, Dean was despairing. Somewhere behind him a door creaked open and footsteps stomped down the hall, Sam making an appearance. Tall and skinny at 14, a mess of gangly limbs and teenage awkwardness, Sam looked pissed off.

“I can’t do my homework with him screaming. Get him to stop.”    

“That’s what I’m trying to do.” Dean shot back, clearly frazzled. It seemed like Ben was beginning to tire and Dean turned away from Sam, practically running away to try and get Ben down to sleep. The day had been trying and he could barely stand it.

Sam had practically turned on him since the day he’d brought Ben home and that alone was exhausting. His brother could barely look at him, never mind speak to him about anything except for complaining about Ben. Dean got it, having a kid was exhausting, and living with one probably wasn’t any better. But that didn’t mean Sam had to be a dick about it.

It wasn’t like it was easy for Dean either. He still had to go to trade school during the day and then come home to Ben and none of that even touched on the part time job he’d somehow managed to hold down. Even if he had had a handle on all of that, he was still reeling from Lisa walking out on them and that was near impossible to recover from. Every night he collapsed into bed and every morning he managed to muster the courage to do it all over again.

It hadn’t been easy in the beginning and it had only grown worse the older Ben had gotten. By the time Ben hit two and descended into the throes of the terrible twos and toddlerhood, Sam had all but iced Den out of his life. Not that Dean blamed him but it sucked regardless. He was still bogged down by everything going on in his life and try as he might, he just couldn’t seem to get through to Sam.

Dean had missed Sam’s high school graduation and he suspected that that had been the final nail in the coffin. He’d wanted to show up, was dressed up and ready to go, but life got in the way. Ben had been sick, hospital worthy sick, and that took priority over a high school grad. Dean had thought Sam would understand but he hadn’t. He’d moved out and to California a month and a half later.

Dean wasn’t sure what to make of what had happened with him and Sam that morning as he parked the car and made the trek up Mary’s stairs and to her front door. They’d made inroads and if that was possible then maybe forgiving his mother was also possible. He knocked, three sharp raps, and waited. Mary opened the door a few moments later, stock still as she looked at Dean.

“Hey mom. Can we talk?”

Mary stepped aside to let Dean in, closing the door behind him. She seemed apprehensive as he headed inside and sat on the couch. The last tine they’d spoken Dean had said that he hadn’t wanted to talk and Mary had honoured it.

“Do you want tea or coffee?” She asked, hovering by the couch.

“No, that’s fine. I’m not staying long.”

“Okay, what did you want to talk about?”

Dean sighed, scooting over so Mary could sit beside him on the couch. He knew that they both knew exactly what he wanted to talk about and that it was simply a matter of who was going to bring it up first. Dean brought it up first. “Why did you lie and tell Ben that Lisa was dead?”

“I panicked.”

Dean pursed his lips, not particularly convinced by Mary. Sensing his apprehension, she elaborate.

“I didn’t know what you had told him and he showed me the wedding ring so I didn’t exactly know what I was supposed to do. Granted what I did wasn’t the correct thing but you know as well as I do that sometimes things go insane under the best of circumstances and even worse when they’re complicated.”

“I get that, trust me, but that lie blew up in my face and I’m just now fixing it. The fallout wasn’t exactly great.”

“How bad was it?”

“Well he screamed at me, told me he hated me, and then told me he wished I’d left instead of Lisa.” Dean said honestly. “He then proceeded to track Lisa down on facebook, message her, and then meet her in public without me knowing. Bright side though, he knows she’s a raging cunt and is moving on from her. Also, Ben’s got a half-brother and Lisa’s now in the process of an incredibly messy divorce because she thought being a dick to my kid was a good idea.”

“Oh.”

Dean nodded his head, sitting in silence for a few minutes so that Mary could digest the severely condensed version of the events of the past few weeks. It sounded ridiculous now that he was saying it out loud.

“So he knows what happened with you and Lisa then. Does he know everything?”

“He knows it all. I may have yelled it at him through tears but he knows it. Lisa confirmed it too, told him herself that she didn’t want him.” Dean nodded. “I thought I broke him when he found out. I really thought everything was completely fucked.”

“But it isn’t, I take it?”

“No, it isn’t. It’s definitely not perfect and we both really need to work on shit, me in particular, but we’re sort of talking again. Complete honesty, that’s what I promised him.”

Mary seemed surprised but didn’t say anything about it. Dean had never been one to talk about his feelings or his thoughts so she could only imagine how hard it must’ve been. She knew well enough what the grief of losing a partner was like and the aftermath of trying to raise a child. It wasn’t something anyone should have ever had to go through.

“So you’re tentatively talking, that’s good. How’s he holding up?”

“He’s fine as far as he’s told me. Seems like he wants to move on with his life. Seems interested in Sam.”

“You’ve seen Sam?”

Dean nodded. “He kind of ambushed me this morning. Didn’t love it but we talked.”

“And?”

“And what? We just talked, there’s nothing else to it. I wouldn’t expect world peace after the first conversation we’ve had in 12 years.”

“I didn’t exactly expect you two to talk at all.” She said honestly. “He asked me if he should go see you and I told him it was his choice. I didn’t tell him what happened with Ben finding out but I did warn him you’d not be in the greatest mood. I was hoping you’d figure things out.”

“I don’t think we would’ve talked if I hadn’t blown up my entire life.”

Mary seemed confused, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“The only reason I even listened to Sam was because blowing up my life and dealing with Lisa and Ben kind of maybe made me take a look at myself and realize I needed to change. Not in like a total personality overhaul way but in a way that maybe I just need to be more open. Also it’s been a long time and I kind of, maybe I miss being close to Sam. It’d be nice to be brothers again.”

“I’m glad to hear it, honestly. I miss having my boys be my boys.” Mary said. “Did he tell you the good news?”

“Yeah, he did. It’ll be good for him, I think. The job thing anyway. Don’t think the moving’ll be the greatest but that’s a problem for him and Jess.”

“If you and Ben made it without dying I’m sure he’ll be just fine too.”

Dean nodded his head. “Yeah I think you’re right.”

Silence settled again as Mary and Dean sat on the couch. While Dean hadn’t forgiven her completely, there was the distinct sense that they were at least on speaking terms and the road to recovery. It was much the same sentiment regarding his relationship with Sam. Rebuilding trust and relationships was hard but Dean knew he’d be able to do it. He’d survived Lisa, he could survive this.

“Do you want to stay for lunch?” Mary asked, breaking the silence.

“I can’t. I’ve got a bunch of stuff I have to get done today. Sam asked if we could do dinner on Friday at 6 so we can all get together then if that works for you?”

“I would love nothing more. I’ll see you boys Friday night then.”

Dean hovered for a moment, debating on whether or not hugging Mary was appropriate and something he wanted to do. He settled on an awkward half hug before excusing himself, leaving to head home.

~

Cas was thinking. While not uncommon for him to do, this particular train of thought was troubling him. Try as he might, all of his free thoughts cycled back to Claire and what she had done. It had been a few weeks since the explosion next door and Claire had isolated herself from everyone in her life. She wasn’t speaking to Jack or Cas or her friends and the more Cas thought about it, the more worry plagued him.

Claire had made her choice and was rightfully dealing with the consequences but the consequences had consequences of their own. Cas couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Claire outside of her room or the last time she’d eaten. She’d completely withdrawn and it left Cas on edge.

With great hesitancy he approached Claire’s room around noon, knocking on the open door. She was there, sitting on her bed with a half-finished crochet project in her lap. The sudden knocking startled her and she looked up, expression hardening when she saw Cas.

“I think it’s time we had a talk.” Cas said, “Can I come in?”

“No.”

Expecting the answer, Cas remained in the door way and leaned against it. While he would honour what she wanted to do with her space, they were going to have a conversation whether she liked it or not. “I understand you’re frustrated with what’s happening but you’re isolating yourself and I’m concerned.”

“Afraid I’m gonna do something stupid?” She asked, making her distaste obvious. “Stupid to myself, I mean. Thought I should clarify since everyone else already thinks I’m stupid for what I did.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid, Claire. Impulsive and a little reckless, sure, but not stupid. You’re a lot like me when I was your age.”

Claire bristled, face scrunched up in displeasure. Already she didn’t want to be dealing with Cas but the single worst thing he, or any parent for that matter, could’ve told their angry teenager was that they were similar. “Yeah dad, sure. I’m so sure you really ruined people’s lives at my age because you were reckless and impulsive. No fucking way Mr. I run a non-profit was an asshole.”

“I wasn’t always the way I am now.” Cas shrugged. “I’ll tell you about it if you let me in.”

Claire debated for a moment before she scooted over, a silent acceptance. Cas took the opportunity and stepped into her room, sitting beside her on the bed. He’d never shared this particular part of his life with anyone besides a therapist but he thought Claire might benefit so he took a breath to prepare himself before speaking.

“I know you don’t remember your dad, you were only a few months old when he died, but he was the golden boy of the family. Jimmy was everything our parents wanted: he was academic and good at sports and went to church every Sunday. I was… not that. I tried, don’t get me wrong, but I was average at school and worse at sports and never quite got the religion thing.”

Claire turned her head slightly, watching Cas. She didn’t quite understand where he was going with this.

“I say all of that to make sure you know that I felt ignored and less than and that that bred some issues with me. I rebelled, to a degree, trying to get their attention. It was little things at first, bad grades or coming home late or whatever but it progressed. I started hanging out with the wrong people and they got me into the wrong things and then I started dating the wrong person and it spiralled. But I kept doing it because it got me attention, because it made me feel better.”

“I didn’t do it for fucking attention,” Claire muttered, less than impressed. “And I’m not acting out. I don’t feel ignored.”

Cas nodded his head, filing the response away. It wasn’t a lot but it was something. “I’m glad you don’t feel ignored but that’s not the point of the story. The point of the story is that I did some stupid fucking shit, nearly got arrested, almost got kicked out, and none of it changed my behaviour. None of that made me a better person but it did help me realize something.”

“Yeah, what’d you realize?” She asked. She didn’t exactly believe what Cas was telling her, he didn’t seem like he would’ve caused problems as a teenager but he also never lied to her so it was probably true.

“I realized that none of it made me feel anything. The good attention, the bad attention, it did nothing.  All it did was patch over the hole that I was ignoring. I was an angry kid, blamed everyone for my actions and how they looked at me and for what happened and it wasn’t helpful. I’m not saying you have a hole in your heart or that you’re being reckless but I am saying that there’s something going on internally that you’re not sharing and that that’s probably part of why you did what you did.”

“So I’m fucked in the head then, that’s what you’re saying. I’m some basket case who just can’t help but do what I do because of some impulse. That’s such fucking bullshit.” Claire’s voice wavered as she spoke and she got to her feet, pacing around her room as her thoughts raced. She didn’t like talking to Cas and confiding in him and she wanted to yell at him to leave but he was right, to a degree. “You want the truth, dad? I did it on purpose, the snooping. Not because I wanted to hurt Ben but because I couldn’t help myself. Everything here is so boring and then this giant mystery just falls in my lap. How am I supposed to ignore that?”

Cas’ lips thinned but he kept silent, allowing Claire to continue on.

“I wanted to help Ben and I wanted to get to the bottom of the mystery and I didn’t mean to hurt him but I couldn’t stop.” She admitted, voice catching in her throat. “I try so hard to stop when I get into things but I can’t stop. There’s this- this voice in my head and it just keeps me going. I know I should stop, I know the shit I do is stupid and reckless but I like the thrill and I can’t stop it. I don’t like being the way I am. I don’t fucking like myself.”

Cas’ heart panged but he remained seated, resisting the urge to hug Claire. He knew what she was feeling, it wasn’t hard to figure out, and he knew she needed to rant. She needed the release of saying exactly what she had kept locked in her brain and then, only then, would she even consider letting someone help her.

“I feel so many fucking things all of the time and I don’t understand any of them. I don’t get why dog commercials make me cry or why I get so angry every time I someone harassing Jack or why I get so jealous every time I see Kaia talking to some stupid jock. There’s so much in my head and I can’t get through it.” Claire’s eyes were beginning to water now, tears welling and threatening to spill. “You expect me to be a good daughter and Jack wants me to be a good sister and Kaia a best friend and my teachers a good student and I just- it’s too much. Then Ben comes along and he doesn’t know me and there’s no expectations and I can just be myself until the moment I’m too much myself and I fuck everything up. All I do is fuck everything up.”

“You don’t fuck everything up, Claire.”

“Except I do because now Ben, Jack, and Kaia aren’t talking to me and the only reason you’re talking to me is because you’re worried I’m gonna do something fucking stupid. I can’t do it any more dad, I just can’t. I don’t know who the fuck I am and I don’t know how to figure it out. How the fuck am I supposed to fix all of my flaws and be who everyone wants if I don’t even know who I’m supposed to be?”

“You’re 16,you’re not supposed to have all of the answers.” Cas said, opening his arms. He wouldn’t invade Claire’s space but he wanted her to know that he was there. She stopped, staring at his open arms.

“There’s something wrong with me and I think there always has been. I was born wrong.”

Cas shook his head, lowering his arms. His heart ached for Claire, for what she was trying to tell him. He knew what she was saying, what she was going through, because that’d been him at 16. It was the age where everything felt like it was falling apart. So many people wanted so many things and expected you to give them all.

“I thought the world was ending at 16, just like this. I didn’t know who I was or what I wanted and I know it seems impossible but it isn’t. Your life won’t end here just because you don’t know who you are. My life didn’t.”

Claire was crying before she was able to get a word out, tears sliding down her cheeks. It was loud and ugly but she didn’t care. In the end she ended up back in the bed, leaning against Cas. As much as she wanted to be angry with him for everything, she couldn’t be.

“Help me, dad. Please.”

Cas wrapped an arm around, rubbing her shoulder to try and comfort her. “I will, I promise.”

Chapter Text

“Are you sure grandma asked you not to bring anything?” Ben asked, leaning against a wall in the entry way. “Because you always told me that it’s rude not to bring things when you’re invited to a meal at someone’s place.”

“We both know I‘m not a great cook and an even worse baker so yeah, definitely on purpose don’t bring anything. I’ve still got a store bought pie I’m bringing anyway but that’s not really a big deal. You ready to go?”

Ben nodded and headed out to the car, making himself comfortable. He didn’t say anything until they were on their way to Mary’s, needing to turn the volume down so he could hear himself talking. “So, how awkward do you think this is gonna be?”

“Well it’s not gonna be fun, at least for me. At this point I know fuck all about my brother as a person and he knows basically nothing about either of us unless mom’s gone and told him shit. I just want to get through it and then leave.”

“Cuz you’ve got plans after, right?”

Dean nodded his head. “Sure do. Would’ve invited you except you’re not 21 so they won’t exactly let you in. Also I really don’t think hanging out with 30 year old men is your thing.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna pass on that for sure. I’m just gonna veg and watch tv while you’re out. I wanna see if Spork likes horror movies.”

“Yeah I got nothing on that one.” Dean chuckled, pulling into Mary’s driveway. He seemed hesitant to get out of the car when he parked, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Think they’d get upset if I just didn’t show up?”

“Yeah they would. It’s gonna be fine so let’s go.”

Dean sighed and got out of the car. Dread was mounting the closer he got to Mary’s porch and all he wanted to do was run and go home. Individually making up with Mary and Sam was one thing but being stuck in a room with both of them and Ben was something else entirely. The last time all four of them had been together in a room had been the night before Sam had left for Stanford and that wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience.

Mary opened the door before Dean could knock, smiling at him and Ben. “You’re right on time, perfect.”

“We brought dessert too but don’t worry, dad didn’t bake it.” Ben said as he squeezed past Dean to head inside.

Dean, knowing it was far too late to flee, accepted his fate and stepped inside. He brought the pie to the kitchen and steeled himself to run into Sam. Sam was there, busy chopping up cucumbers for the salad, and he glanced up at the footsteps. “Dean, hey. Glad you could make it.”

“Do you only exist in business wear?” Dean blurted out, stuck on the fact Sam was in another dress shirt and pair of slacks.

“I packed light so for this trip, yeah. Pretty sure it beats paint stained jeans and t-shirt. Like come on Dean, zz top? Still into the greatest hits of mullet rock I see.”

“I stand by mullet rock, beats that Celine Dion shit you were listening to.”

“I was 14, leave me alone. I’ve evolved.”

“He evolved into a vegetarian and made cooking this meal a hassle.” Mary muttered, gesturing to the lasagna that sat cooling on the table.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, vegetarian? That’s actually criminal. How do you not die?”

“It’s called vitamins and a lot of protein dense vegetables, it’s really not that complicated. You should try it, your cholesterol might thank you.”

“If I ever turn down meat, take me out back and pull an old yeller because that sure as hell isn’t the real me.”

As Dean and Sam traded comments and insults, Ben situated himself next to Mary. It felt awkward to be near her seeing as he hadn’t seen her since she’d lied to him but it wasn’t all that important in the grand scheme of things. “Is it weird for you having everyone here in the same room?” He asked Mary, helping portion out the lasagna.

“A little bit but I’ve been hoping for this for years so I’m not about to complain.” Mary hummed. “It seems like you and your father are doing better.”

“I’m still upset with him but we’re better. I just- I’m not about to tell him that he was right and that I agree with what he did because I don’t agree but icing him out isn’t helping either of us. It is what is I guess.”

“If it helps, your father is a carbon copy of your grandfather. Us Winchesters are kind of genetically predisposed to being stubborn and emotionally constipated.”

“Love that it’s genetic.” Ben mumbled sarcastically. Once he’d finished portioning out the food, he helped Mary set the table before taking his seat.

Sam and Dean were still arguing, attempting to make up for 12 years of not speaking and picking fights. It had progressed from music and vegetarianism to Sam’s hair and how the length wasn’t professional while Sam poked at the subtle grey that was beginning to appear at Dean’s temple. The arguments were superficial and catty and Mary found herself enjoying them, having missed the sight of her boys together in the same room.

“Boys, enough,” Mary said firmly, cutting Sam and Dean off. “Sit down and eat.”

Sam and Dean exchanged a look before they seated themselves. The eating portion of the meal was relatively silent, Sam enjoying the lasagna and Ben enjoying edible food that hadn’t been cooked by his father. Dean, on the other hand, wasn’t enjoying the lasagna. There was something about the combination of vegetables and ricotta that left an odd filmy coating in his mouth.

“So hon, what part of town are you moving to?” Mary asked Sam, deciding it would be best to talk to him as Dean slogged his way through his lasagna.

“Cherryhill Court area, so close to downtown. We got a really good price on a 2 bed 2 bath and it’s really close to my office and the hospital Jess is switching to.”

“What’s your wife do?” Ben asked curiously. “I saw a picture of her on your facebook but it doesn’t say what she does.”

“She’s in her last year of residency for pediatrics. It was rough when I was in law school and she was in med school but we got through it. You’re in high school now, right?”

Ben nodded his head. “Yeah, junior year.”

“That’s always a tough year, counts more than senior year if you ask me. You thought about colleges yet?”

“A little yeah. I mean I know what I wanna do, it’s just trying to do it that’s gonna suck.”

“You didn’t tell me you know what you want to do.” Dean said, the clatter of his fork echoing in the kitchen as he finished the final bite of the horrid lasagna. He tried not to be upset Ben hadn’t told him yet but part of him was. It was disappointing they hadn’t talked about that yet.

“I wasn’t gonna up to you in the middle of a blow up fight and be like ‘hey dad I wanna do premed or neurobiology’ cuz that wouldn’t have worked. So uh there, now you know what I wanna do.”

“Guess I do.” Dean said, leaving the conversation at that. He’d encourage Ben to follow his dreams because that’s what every good parent was supposed to do but already he could feel the financial burden that would cause. But that was a problem for a later time and date.

“Soo we know what I do and Jess does and what Ben wants to do. What do you do at your firm?” Sam asked Dean.

“A bit of everything. I kind of manage and oversee and consult on a lot of things, not as hands on as I’d like but that’s fine. Everyone in the neighbourhood’s kind of started giving me projects so that’s been fun. I’m restoring this Victorian crib for a neighbour and it’s been surprisingly tricky.”

“Maybe I’ll get you to fix the weird shit in my new place. Something’s off with the floor, I don’t think it’s level. Part of the wall’s not even either.”

“Only if you pay me for it.”  Dean said, tone halfway between joking and serious. Fun carpentry projects he’d do for free but home renovations, especially floors and walls, those were paid jobs. “But yeah, I guess I can take a look at it.”

Sam nodded, accepting that answer. “Mom tells me you’ve started dating again. How’s that going?”

Dean sighed, flushing red. The short answer was that it wasn’t going great but trying to explain the intricacies of what was happening was awkward enough but made worse by the fact Ben was there.

“I don’t think it’s going well.” Ben said, answering for Dean. “If he’s going out it’s not during the week when I’m around.”

“I thought you were seeing that blonde vet tech?” Mary added. “Did that stop?”

“Blondes weren’t your type like a decade ago, when’d you grow up and get better taste?”

“I’ve become less superficial in my old age.” Dean deadpanned, shooting Sam a glare. “And it’s going fine, if you really need to know. She’s a little busy so it’s been a bit and I’m a little busy too.”

“Busy hanging out with your new best friend maybe.”

“Are you and Charlie not best friends anymore?”

“Charlie’s still my best friend, Sam, that’s never gonna change. What my lovely son is referring to is the next door neighbour who I’ve become friends with. It’s the single dad bond, that and he gets the teenager struggle.”

“Wow, look at you with two whole friends. That’s great.” Sam said, shooting Dean a return look of challenge.

“In your brother’s defence, I happen to know the neighbour and he’s an excellent guy. If you’re smart, you’ll be friendly to him too. Castiel has a lot of sway in this town but he also doesn’t put up with anything from anyone.”

“That’s his full name, Jesus. No wonder Claire seems so embarrassed.” Ben mumbled under his breath.

“Hey be nice, he’s a good guy.” Dean said. “Don’t make me bring up your crush.”

That quickly shut Ben up and he excused himself before Dean could call him out on anything else. He was just bringing out the dessert for everyone, that’s all Ben was doing. Definitely not avoiding his father.

Dessert, as it turned out, consisted of the pie Dean had brought and special cookies Mary had made to accommodate Sam’s new diet. The cookies, if they could even be called that, had the taste and texture of drywall and Dean tried his best to sneakily spit it out into his napkin. Mary saw and smacked his arm.

“Don’t spit out my perfectly good cookies. I taught you better than that.”

“Mom, they taste like drywall. And I would know what that tastes like. Sam can deal with a little sugar for a night, it won’t kill him.”

“And laying off the sweets wouldn’t kill you. Looks like you’ve been enjoying them the last 12 years” Sam shot back without thinking.

“Did you just call me fucking fat?” Dean asked, offended.

“I didn’t call you anything. What you interpret is up to you”

Dean sighed and took a deep breath, choosing to focus on that instead of retorting. He was going to be the bigger man. “You know what, thanks for dinner mom but I’ve got to get going. Like I said earlier, I’ve got plans and I don’t want to be late.”

“Do you have to go? You haven’t been here that long.”

“I do.” Dean nodded, getting to his feet before turning to Sam. “Glad to hear you’re doing well. You’ve got my number, don’t be a stranger, ‘kay?”

“I won’t be. Have fun tonight.”

“Yeah, have fun with the neighbour. I’ll see you tomorrow, dad.”

Dean waved quickly to his family before he excused himself, relieved to be escaping from the dinner.

By the time Dean made it home from the dinner, he was exhausted. The dinner had gone well enough but it was still incredibly awkward. Between Sam’s new health obsession and lack of anything remotely interesting and the sudden interest everyone had in his romantic life, all Dean wanted was a few drinks with a friend who wouldn’t interrogate him. His mood shifted when he entered his room and found Spork stretched on top of the clothes he’d laid out hours before.

“You’re not supposed to be in here.” Dean muttered, less than pleased. Spork, who was stretched out across Dean’s flannel, meowed in response but didn’t move. “That’s my good flannel, don’t be an asshole.”

In the end Dean gave up and let Spork stay there, deciding it wasn’t worth arguing with the cat he was growing to tolerate. He rummaged through a drawer and his closet for an appropriate outfit, settling on faded band tee along with clean jeans and an open black button up. It was casual but more importantly it was clean and comfortable. There was a knock on the door just as he finished getting dressed so he grabbed his wallet and headed downstairs.

“Hey Cas.” He said as he opened the door.

“Hey yourself.” Cas replied. “You ready to go?”

“I was ready like four hours ago. Sat through the worst family dinner I’ve had in over a decade so I need this desperately.”

Cas raised an eyebrow, stepping aside so Dean could lock up. “You and your mom made up then? That’s good.”

“Talked to my brother too, three times this week actually.”

“The estranged brother?”

“The one and only. Turns out he’s moving down here in two months and wanted to reconnect. Also apologized for all the shit that went down.”

“Wow, you’ve had a rough couple weeks with the ex thing and then the mom thing and now the brother thing. Makes perfect sense you’d want a drink.” Cas said, walking alongside Dean. Swayze’s wasn’t far, a 15 minute walk or so, and the night air was pleasant. “If it helps, I’ve had a shit week too.”

“Well you’ve got a lightly taller shoulder to lean on if you want. Should probably share in the advice giving since you’ve given me so much.”

“I somehow doubt you have advice on how to handle a teenage girl having an identity crisis because she hates herself and is convinced everyone else hates her.”

Dean let out a breath of pity. He knew a thing or two about moody teenagers but teenage girls were something completely foreign to him. The fact he wasn’t Claire’s biggest fan didn’t exactly help either. “I’ve got nothing on the teenage girl aspect or the identity crisis aspect. She must be talking to you again so that’s nice at least.”

“Well we had a bit of a talk and I told her that identity crises at her age are totally normal and while I think that helped, I’m not convinced she believes that I know what she’s talking about because I’ve been through it.”

“You had an identity crisis? I find that hard to believe. You seem a little too self-actualized for that.”

“Everyone always says that,” Cas sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets, “but I was a teenager once. I had a few crises actually but I worked through them and now I can just exist. Now come on, I want a drink.”

With that avenue of conversation shut down but not forgotten, Dean finally got his first good look at the outside of Swayze’s. The building was brick and the sign neon, nothing too exciting. Music was already echoing from inside the bar, classic rock that brought a comforting feeling to Dean. He followed Cas inside, unsure of what to expect.

What he got was almost exactly what he’d expected. The bar was solid wood and stools lined it, shelves behind displaying the various alcohols available. Directly across from Dean at the far end of the bar was the stage, already set up with instruments for the band playing in a few hours. There were tables to his right and pool tables to his left and Dean grinned. Pool was his thing.

“Meet your expectations?” Cas asked, suddenly pressed into Dean’s side to avoid being trampled by a random bargoer.

Dean turned his head, surprised to find himself inches away from Cas’ face. He didn’t shift or bristle but the surprise was evident. This close to Cas, Dean noticed something he hadn’t noticed before. There was the smallest of scars cutting through Cas’ right eyebrow and ending on the bridge of his nose. It was a cool scar and Dean had to forcibly blink himself back to reality. “Vibes wise, sure. Jury’s out on the food and drinks since I haven’t had them yet.”

“You strike me as a whiskey guy.” Cas said, still staring at Dean. He could see Dean scanning his face and it amused him. “Plenty of options for you here.”

“Solid guess, you’re not wrong. I’ll peg you as a craft beer guy, probably an ipa and maybe a sour if you’re feeling adventurous.”

Cas nodded his head, still pressed against Dean’s side to avoid the mob of people piling into the bar. He had a hand on Dean’s shoulder, grip firm and warm. “You’d be correct. You ever had a blueberry sour beer before?”

“Not yet but I’m open to it.”

Cas grinned triumphantly and peeled himself away from Dean’s side, leading him to the bar so they could get a drink. The bar was pretty full by the time Cas and Dean got there but Cas managed to snag the final two seats at the end, beating out a pair of twenty somethings in heels. He sat at the very end, digging into the bowl of peanuts that had been stashed away. Dean’s attention was drawn when he heard the bartender.

“Well look who the cat dragged in, ‘bout time you two came here together.”

Unsurprised to see Benny, Dean found himself surprised by what the man was wearing. It wasn’t the jeans or the black boots that shocked Dean but rather the rest of the outfit. A leather vest hanging open over a black mesh t-shirt that bared all of Benny’s torso to the bar. Dean swore he saw a flash of metal and squinted to get a better look, eyes widening when he realized what he was seeing.

“My eyes are on my face, Dean.” Benny chuckled, leaning against the bar. He hardly seemed surprised by Dean’s look of shock at the get up, nipple jewelry included. “You’re welcome to look but I charge after the first five minutes.”

Dean flushed bright red, tearing his eyes away from Benny in embarrassment. “I’m not, I just- did that not hurt?”

“Not as much as the prince albert.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. He had no idea what that was and reached for his phone to google, stopping only when Cas put a hand over his phone. His expression was a mix of incredible amusement and an air of seriousness. “Do not google that in the middle of a crowded bar, trust me.”

“Okay, I won’t.” Dean said, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Won’t stop me from googling it when I get home.”

“What you do in your own home isn’t our business. That being said, this literally is my business so what can I get you two?”

“Whattya think Dean, wanna be adventurous?” Cas asked, chin resting on his hand as he glanced over. There was something playful in his grin and the glint of his slightly pointed canines that caught Dean’s interest. It was a relaxed energy Dean hadn’t seen before and there was something charismatic about it, something that pulled him in.

“After the week I’ve had, fuck it. Let’s be adventurous.”

“I knew you’d be fun.” Cas grinned, gently hitting Dean’s shoulder with a hand before turning to Benny. “Two Deaths in the afternoon please.”

“Your funeral.” Benny chuckled, turning away from them to make the drinks.

“What did he mean by your funeral? What did you rope me into?” Dean asked, turned in his seat to face Cas. The light in the bar was moody, sparse, and the way it cast down around Cas sent beams shooting across part of his face. It was fascinating to watch.

Cas seemed amused, chin still resting on his hand. He energy was different, his posture looser, and he could see Dean reacting to it. It wasn’t intentional, the sudden switch up, but Swayze’s was a safe place and he wanted to have some fun with an attractive friend. “Don’t you trust me?”

“About as far as I can throw you, maybe.” Dean said, watching Cas’ grin grow wider and crooked. “That’s the kind of smile you put on before you go explode paint cans in an empty cornfield.”

“Dean Winchester, did you set off paint cans in cornfields as a child?”

“First off, almost government naming me is rude.” Dean chuckled, leaning in. “Second, I did. We did some other shit too but no one really needs to know that.”

“You’re just full of surprises.” Cas mused, leaning back when Benny set two drinks down in between them.

The drinks, placed in normal glass tumblers, were an alarming yellow green topped by a froth. Dean reached for his tumbler and brought it to his nose, smelling. The scent was faint but still floral and bright and it surprised Dean. Liquids that particular shade of green never smelled normal. Feeling brave, Dean took his first sip. Champagne bubbles hit his mouth first before a strong anise took over, overwhelming his tastebuds. The drink was strong, there was no doubt about that, but it was pleasant as the anise faded into the champagne aftertaste.

“You’re so lucky I like the taste of black licorice. This is fantastic.”

“You like black licorice? Great, I’m friends with a fucking psychopath.” Cas chuckled, face scrunching when he took a sip of his own drink.

Dean raised an eyebrow when Cas scrunched his face. “I have taste, that’s what that says. Clearly you don’t like it so why order the drink?”

“Strategy, that’s why.” Cas said, reaching out to clap a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “There’s a shit ton of alcohol in these and they’re easy to make so it saves me money and saves Benny work. Besides, who doesn’t want to be visited by that little green fairy?”

“Last time I saw the green fairy I lost my pants and woke up with three new tattoos.” Benny chuckled, interjecting as stopped at their end of the bar. He’d been keeping an eye on them and picked up on how relaxed Cas seemed. “I think Lee’s coming out in a few. I’d order your drinks now, it’ll get insane when the band starts playing.”

“I’ll do a couple more of these. Cas, what do you want?”

“Benny knows.” He replied, turning on his stool to face the stage.

Dean turned on his stool as well, half-finished drink in hand. The bar had become more crowded in the time he and Cas had talked and ordered their first drink, people congregating near the stage to get a chance to get up close and personal with the band. Most of them were young, early to mid-twenties, but a few older people hung out close to the back. Not that Dean blamed them, loud music wasn’t for the old.

Marid, as they were, were a band that mixed genres and had fun doing what they did. Their earlier music had a folkish quality to it but the last few years had seen them enter the gothic hard rock scene with incredible success. They’d played with bands like Lesbian Bed Death and Rosegarden Funeral Party and while Dean hadn’t seen those shows, he knew the discography like the back of his hand.

“You seem like you’re looking forward to hearing them play.” Cas said, voice muffled by the glass halfway to his lips. “I remember you saying you like them.”

“They’ve been a bucket list band for years so yeah, I’m pretty stoked. I still can’t believe Lee’s the lead singer, it’s kind of wild.”

“It makes sense once you get to know him better. Part of why he started the bar with Benny, aside from wanting to support Benny’s dreams, was cuz the town and the scene needed a venue for newcomers to play at. There’s local bands and smaller bands here all the time, it’s incredible.”

“Wow, you know a lot about this. That’s kind of cool.”

Cas smiled at his empty glass, almost bashful. “I partner with them for work a lot. We do a lot of fundraisers and we use the bar for a lot of drives. They’re really involved in the community so I like being here when I can be to support them.”

“Softie.” Dean teased, the alcohol loosening his tongue. It came across affectionately and Cas didn’t seem to mind it, still smiling as he swapped his empty glass for a colourful can of beer.

“Yeah, cuz I’m so soft.” Cas replied, relaxing against the bar as the band finally made their appearance.  

Marid, for all of their reach, were simple enough. Jeans and t-shirts were the staple save for the drummer who’d gone with a leather outfit and heavy eyeliner. Lee entered last, dressed in the same outfit with the addition of a dark flannel. He grabbed the microphone, eyes scanning the crowd to see who was there.

“Thanks for coming out to show, we’re so excited to be back here! Couple rules before we get started: one, don’t be a dick to others, two, be particularly nice to the bartender so I don’t have to hear him bitch at home, and three, have fun.”

With that intro out of the way, the band began to play. Dean, who had their entire discography memorized at this point, sat there and listened. Between the music and the alcohol he was feeling pretty good, just the right amount of tipsy to be relaxed for the first time in months. He finished the last of the drinks he’d ordered and turned to Cas, putting his hands on his shoulder and leaning in to talk to him.

“I’m so glad we did this.” He said, unsure if Cas could hear him. “This is great.”

Cas startled slightly when he felt Dean’s hands but relaxed quickly, nodding his head. “Told you it would be. Just wait until the end.”

“What happens at the end?”

“Do you have stage fright?”

“No. Why?” Dean said, confused. Clearly Cas knew something he didn’t and he didn’t like it.

“They get someone to sing their last song of the set with Lee. You might get lucky.”

“There’s like a hundred people here, no way.” Dean said, voice a mix of disbelief and mild panic. He loved the band and knew he’d kill if he was picked to go up and sing but it was so unlikely. Even if he went up, it’d been years since he’d done karaoke properly. Singalongs in the workshop or the car didn’t count. Then there was the whole aspect of trying not to embarrass himself in front of his neighbours.

“You two need another drink?” Benny asked as he stopped by. “It’s the last quiet period before I get slammed again. If the lucky participant’s shit then people just drink.”

“I don’t think I’ll be walking if I have another one.” Dean said honestly.

The music died down and Lee spoke again, telling the crowd that he needed a quick break before they chose the lucky participant and finished off the set. With that Lee hopped off of the stage, greeting and briefly chatting with a few people as he made his way across the bar. He stopped at the end of the bar next to Cas and Dean.

“Hey handsome.” He grinned, leaning in to give Benny a kiss before turning to Cas and Dean. “Nice to see you two here. It’s your first show, right Dean? Whattya think?”

“Zero complaints here. Bucket list seeing you guys live.” Dean said honestly, still grinning. “Benny’s drinks are a little strong but I’m not bitching about that either.”

“I turned him onto death in the afternoons, he’s had three.” Cas replied.

Lee raised an eyebrow, waiting until Benny handed him a drink before he spoke. “Good fucking luck when you stand up. Those hit you like a fucking truck.”

“Oh I’m feeling it now, that’s for sure.”

“And that’s why I only made him three.” Benny said, leaning on the counter. “You see anyone good in the crowd for the final number? I don’t want an exorcist repeat, I’m not cleaning up pea green vomit again.”

Cas, who was watching and listening to the interaction, jerked his thumb in Dean’s direction. He knew enough about Dean to know he’d kill for the chance and the neighbourhood in with Lee was a bonus. Besides, Dean wasn’t going to volunteer himself.

“What about you Dean?” Lee asked, taking note of Cas’ gesture. “If seeing us is a bucket list, singing with us must be there too?”

“Oh god, uh I’m not a great singer.”

Lee shrugged. “Not a biggie. I’m sure you’re fine and besides, we’ve had some truly horrific people but no one really cares. You know ‘I keep my bed vacant’?”

“That’s your best song so yeah, of course I know it.” Dean said, unable to hide the excitement tinging his voice. “If you’re playing that song then I’ll come up.”

“Guess it’s settled. Follow me.”

Dean nodded and stood up. True to Lee’s earlier warning, the drinks did indeed hit Dean like a truck. His limbs went light and tingle, vision fuzzing out for a moment before returning to normal. He reached out to steady himself, hand finding itself on Cas’ shoulder for the umpteenth time that night. Suddenly struck by how warm he was, Dean shrugged his button down off and freed his arms.

“Mind watching that for me?” He asked Cas, taking Cas’ distracted silence as a yes before he turned and followed Lee.

Cas, an unfortunate victim of being relaxed and intoxicated, had been too busy staring at Dean’s hand and then his arms to give much of a response. Of course he’d seen Dean’s hands and arms before but this time he’d noticed them. Big hands, calloused and scarred and his arms, god the way they were shaped. While Cas had no particular type, he appreciated a muscular man and Dean was just that.

“Oh I know that look.” Benny mused, leaning on the counter so he could talk to Cas. “You two’ve been close all night. Got something to share?”

Cas shook his head. “Nothing to share. He’s woefully pitifully just a friend.”

“A woefully pitifully hot man you’re clearly into and you can deny it but we’ve all got eyes. I think he’s good looking and so do Lee and Rowena. You can join the fan club.”

“I’d be less irritated if he was just hot but he’s fucking funny too and that’s just a kick in the balls. Also the straight thing is an issue but anyways. It is what it is.”

Benny nodded his head, patting Cas sympathetically on the on the shoulder before making his way back to dealing with the other customers. Cas nursed the remainder of his beer as he watched the stage, listening to Lee introduce Dean and the final song of the set. Dean looked nervous but excited and it was sweet to see. The nerves continued as the band began to play and the second Dean started, Cas huffed.

“Of course he can sing too.” He mumbled. While Dean wasn’t the greatest vocalist, he wasn’t bad and the grit and gravel in his voice captivated Cas. They’d been friends for the past four months and Cas had spent that entire time pretending he didn’t notice how attractive Dean was. It wasn’t hard to do but it was irritating. There were only so many ways Cas could pretend not to see Dean’s arms or the way he cracked his jokes with a lopsided grin when they were watching tv.

Dean was having the time of his life onstage as he sang with Lee and the band. He’d been nervous as he’d been introduced and when the song had first started but from the first word he was good to go. It was exhilarating and thanks to the alcohol, Dean wasn’t embarrassed in the slightest. Towards the end of the song he looked out at the crowd, trying to see if Cas was paying attention. He was, relaxed and staring intently at Dean with the gaze of someone measuring someone up. Aside from the mild intimidation, Dean felt the faintest twinge of something else but it quickly faded as the song ended and the bar erupted in applause and shouts of appreciation.

Dean made his way back over to Cas, smiling awkwardly at him as he reached for his button down. “So, did I make a fool out of myself?”

“Far from it.” Cas replied as he stood up. “I didn’t know you could actually sing. You weren’t bad at all.”

“Thanks. Don’t think I’ll be doing it again but it was fun.”

Cas nodded along. “Fair enough. I don’t know about you but I’m exhausted and I think I need to go sleep off the drinks.”

“Yeah, I’m with you on that one. Will pay for it tomorrow but it’s worth it tonight.”

The night air was cool by the time Cas and Dean left Swayze’s and began their walk home. The performance onstage had burned through much of Dean’s energy and helped him sober up so he was just this side of tipsy as they walked, a perfect math to Cas’ just slightly sober place. For the majority of the walk they said nothing and simply existed beside each other. It was only when they reached their driveways that Dean broke the silence.

“I had a really great time tonight, thanks for inviting me. Between all of the shit going on with Ben and then my brother and Lisa, I really just needed to let loose a bit. So thanks for not being judgmental and just letting me be me.”

“Hey, what are friends for.” Cas replied. “I’ll see you later Dean.”

With that they parted ways, both falling into their beds and into a deep sleep quickly.

Chapter Text

Jack was halfway through their book when they heard the knock at their door. They glanced at their clock first, double checking that it wasn’t too late. It wasn’t, the numbers on the display telling them it was half past eight. Expecting to see Cas, Jack’s face fell when their eyes landed on Claire.

She looked like she’d been crying, bags under her eyes puffy and the tip of her nose bright red. The expression, combined with the ridiculously oversized hoodie and greasy hair gave Jack pause and they set their book down.

“Can I come in?” She asked, holding out a chocolate bar. “I brought a Charleston chew as a peace offering.”

Jack nodded their head and scooted over, making room on their bed for Claire. She shuffled in and sat down beside them, staring down at her hands so she didn’t have to look at Jack.

“You look like you’ve been crying. Did you and dad get into another fight?”

Claire shook her head. She handed Jack the candy bar before reaching for one of their stuffed animals, hugging the stuffed llama to her chest. Finding her words was a struggle and it took several minutes for her gain the courage to talk, voice uncharacteristically quiet. “How are you so sure about who you are?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re just you and that’s it. You know who you want to be and you act like it and everyone likes you. How do you just feel comfortable being who you are?”

Part of Jack wanted to ask Claire where this was coming from but the other part of them knew better than to push right now. Pushing Claire was a one way ticket to disaster and Jack wanted to avoid that. They took a few minutes to think about what Claire was asking.

“Well, dad helps for starters. He’s been supportive of all the stuff I wanna do and how I feel and I wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t. I’ve got good friends too and I’ve got you. I don’t have to worry about people being assholes to me because I know you’ll kick their asses. But I don’t know, I just kind of always knew there was something different about me and I just went along with it. Being angsty about it doesn’t help so I’m not angsty about it.”

“How are you not angry or confused about everything?’

“Okay, what’s going on with you?” Jack finally asked, turning so they could face Claire. “You’re supposed to be pissed at me, not in here asking why I’m so sure of myself.”

“I had a breakdown in front of dad.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t great. I uh, I actually had a meeting today… with a therapist.”

“You talked to a therapist? Like an honest to God licensed professional?” Jack repeated, unable to hide the surprise in their voice. “How’d dad convince you to do that?”

“He didn’t convince me, I asked him to help me.”

Jack seemed taken aback even further but didn’t question it. What they did do was hand Claire another stuffed animal and allow her to continue talking which she clearly needed to do.

“So I don’t know who I am and I don’t like myself and I feel all this pressure and all these expectations and it’s made me a little insane.” She began, hugging the second stuffed animal to her chest. “It’s all really confusing and I don’t love it so I decided to cause problems because I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

“So you got confused and lashed out at everyone? That’s what you’re telling me.”

“It’s a lame excuse, I know, but it’s true.” She said. “You and dad and Kaia have all these expectations for who I am and who I’m supposed to be and Ben didn’t have those so I could be myself but you can’t be yourself if you don’t who you are and it got all fucked up.”

“What do you think Kaia and I expect from you? I don’t really expect anything and I doubt she does.”

“Well it feels like you do. And you’re so well liked and popular and I really don’t care about the popularity but it fucking sucks when everyone talks to you and acts like I’m not there. Only person that doesn’t do that is Ben.”

“Dude, you start talking and Kaia ignores literally everyone else. Have you not noticed that?”

Claire shrugged. As far as she was aware, Kaia had never done that. She was beginning to feel a little bit better as she sat there and talked to Jack, even letting go of one of the stuffed animals. “So, how’d you figure out who you are? What’d you do first?”

“I picked something out about myself I didn’t like, thought about why I didn’t like it, and then went about fixing it. It’s all baby steps. For me it started with painting my nails.”

“Well I already paint my nails so that’s not very helpful.”

“Okay, so we don’t start with that. We start with something that’s really bothering you so take your pick.”

Claire didn’t have to think too hard before something popped into her head. “I want more people to talk to me and like me.”

“That’s a bit of a big one but still doable. Can I be honest and give you advice without you yelling at me or hitting me?”

“Advise away.”

“First thing you need to do is not look like you’re pissed off all the time. I know that’s just your face and you can’t help it but you gotta smile. Doesn’t have to rip your face apart or anything but you gotta try to at least look a little approachable.”

Claire stared at him, less than impressed even though Jack was right. It wasn’t like she tried to be scary or unapproachable, it just kind of happened. Part of it was her style, but a lot of it was just the way she was. “I can try but I dunno how well it’ll work.”

“Trying’s all you can do.” Jack shrugged. “Are we on good terms now? Because I still feel like you owe me an apology for blowing up on me.”

“We are and I do and I’m sorry, seriously. I shouldn’t have blown up when you were trying to help me and I really should’ve listened when you told me not to do what I did but I can’t go back and fix what happened. What I can do is not be a dick in the future.”

“Do you swear that you’re not gonna be a dick in the future? Like I need you to swear on the beanie baby gnome you keep on your desk that you’ll be better.”

Claire turned to face Jack, letting go of the llama and holding a hand over her heart. “I swear on Gnomeothy Von Billeus The Third that I’ll listen to you before being a dick and that I’ll do my best to be a better version of myself.”

Jack seemed satisfied with that answer. While they were still wary of Claire and how she was feeling, they knew that she was making steps to change herself and that was all that really mattered. The therapy seemed like a huge step, albeit a necessary one, and they were hoping that she was able to get out of it exactly what she wanted. Jack as forgiving by nature and it looked like Claire was trying. They slid off of their bed in silence, rooting around in a drawer for a bag of things before sitting back down on the bed.

“I know we’ve got school tomorrow but we’ve got a chance to have a little fun tonight. Think you and your newly forgivenness can handle a sibling sleepover?”

“Let’s do it.”

~

Lunch was Claire’s favourite part of the day; that was well known to everyone. It was a break from class, a chance to escape the endless droning of teachers and have some fun chatting with the friends she did have. Typically she’d find her seat in the cafeteria and joke with Kaia but today was different. She hadn’t spoken to Kaia since their argument at lunch a few weeks back and it was time to change that.

When the bell rang for the lunch period, Claire quickly left her class and booked it upstairs to get to the bank of lockers near the science classrooms. If she ambushed Kaia it was more likely they’d talk. Claire expected Kaia to be talking to someone when she rounded the corner but the person in question wasn’t one of the other captains like she’d assumed it would be.

Instead it was some girl she didn’t recognize, blonde haired and dressed like a preppy Barbie. From her vantage point Claire could see the girl talking with Kaia, laughing at something she’d said as if it were the funniest thing in the world. Something ugly bubbled in Claire’s stomach but she pushed it down, trying to appear casual as she made her way over.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt.” She said, though she didn’t really mean it. “I wanna talk whenever you’re free, Kaia.”

Kaia turned slightly, just enough to acknowledge Claire’s presence, before turning back to the girl. “I can do Friday, that’d be great. Meet at Dad’s Ice Cream at like 4?”

“Sure, that works! See you then!”

With that the girl left and Kaia turned around, giving Claire her full attention. Intending on letting Claire talk, Kaia instead found herself distracted by the sudden change in Claire’s appearance. She reached out, taking the ends of Claire’s hair and rubbing it between her fingers. “You chopped your hair.”

“I wanted a change.” Claire replied, focusing on Kaia’s hand instead of her face. “And I’m not just talking about my hair.”

Kaia pulled her hand away, turning back to her locker so she could retrieve her books. “You’re gonna have to be more specific. Also I’m still irritated with you, just so you know.”

“I know. I came to apologize.”

That stopped Kaia dead in her tracks and she turned back to Claire. Her expression was largely neutral, save for the raised eyebrows of surprise and disbelief. Claire had done a lot of things over the years but she’d never apologized.

“I was an asshole when we had that talk about what I did to Ben and I really shouldn’t have reacted to what you were saying the way that I did so I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair that I got defensive and stalked off and then just ignored you.”

“You were an asshole but I wasn’t about to tell you that. Why apologize now?”

“I kinda had a mental breakdown and well, you realize a lot when that happens. I don’t wanna get into it but I’m talking to someone about all of the weird sketchy shit going on in my head that I don’t like so we’re working on being better.”

Kaia nodded her head, chewing on what Claire had said. “Apology accepted.”

“Wait really?”

“Yeah, duh. I know you and I know you didn’t really mean to be an asshole, it’s just kind of who you are sometimes. But that’s great you’re talking to someone, seriously. Does this mean I get out of vent duty?” Claire, beyond relieved Kaia didn’t hate her, threw her arms around her best friend in a tight hug. Kaia, taken aback, wrapped an arm around her in a half hug back. “Please don’t break my ribs, I’ve got practice tonight and I need them.”

“Sorry.” Claire mumbled as she pulled away. “And no, you don’t. You just don’t have to deal with the insane vents anymore. Just the ones about Jack and dad and all that stuff.”

“I can deal with those. Now come on, I need to eat lunch so I can attempt to think during English.”

Claire nodded and followed alongside Kaia, the curious mystery of the girl her best friend had been talking to earlier plaguing her thoughts.

~

“Okay, you’ve made amends with almost everyone. You can do this, it’s fine.”

Claire had been psyching herself up for the better part of hour, feet rooted to the pavement with the desperate hope that the earth would open up and swallow her whole. She’d told herself that she was ready to make the final set of amendments on her apology tour but this set was beyond daunting. It was easy enough to apologize to her family and to Kaia but the final pair, not so much.

Step by step she dragged herself from her driveway onto the neighbouring driveway, heart hammering in her chest the closer she got to the front door. Maybe Ben would open the door and hear her out if she was lucky and he was in a good mood but the alternative seemed more likely. If Dean opened the door, he’d just slam it right back in her face and then neither of them would ever talk to her again.

She approached the door and knocked hesitantly, three short raps. For a minute there was nothing and she was nearly ready to turn on her heels and flee when the door opened. Dean was on the other side and looked like he’d just gotten home from work, hands as dirty as his work pants.

He looked at her as if he were staring through her, expression unamused. “Do you need something?”

“Is Ben home?”

“He’s at volleyball so no. Even if he was, you’re not welcome in this house. I made that perfectly clear.”

Claire sighed, staring down at her feet. Dean gave her an out and if she was smart she’d have taken it but she didn’t. “I want to talk to him about what happened, also you. Can I please come in? I really don’t want to talk outside about this.”

“Fine. But only because I’m friends with your dad and he’s worried about you.”

Claire pursed her lips, not overly thrilled that Cas was sharing their business with the neighbour. She followed Dean inside before he could change his mind, hovering around him until he gestured for her to take a seat in the living room. He joined her a few moments later, cat in tow.

“You wanted to talk so talk.” Dean said directly, attention focused on Claire.

Claire sighed, trying to find the words that had suddenly evaporated from her dry mouth. “I shouldn’t have done what I did, the snooping or the telling Ben what I found.”

“No you shouldn’t have.”

“I can’t take back what I did or fix it but for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” Her tone was honest, if not a little shaky, and she tore her eyes from Dean to look at Spork who had finally noticed she was there. “If I’d known what I would find or how bad it would’ve ended, I wouldn’t have told him anything. I wouldn’t have even looked.”

“Common sense should’ve told you that the circumstances surrounding his mother were kept secret for a reason. You had absolutely no right as a stranger to insert yourself into a deeply personal issue that didn’t involve you. Now I understand you’ve got your own personal shit going on but that still doesn’t excuse it.”

Claire stared down at Spork as the uncomfortable anxiety returned to her gut. She was embarrassed and Dean being right didn’t make it feel any better. There was nothing she could say or do that would convince him to forgive her and she didn’t entirely know if she wanted forgiveness to begin with. What upset her into speaking was the insinuation that Dean knew what was going on with her personally.

“Did my dad tell you everything that’s been going on? Because I know he’s upset with me but I somehow don’t think telling the next door neighbour that his daughter’s fucked in the head and in therapy is something he’d do.”

“That’s not exactly how he worded it.” Dean said, sighing deeply. As upset as he was with Claire and as uncomfortable as he was with her in his house, he really just wanted to move on from the entire Lisa ordeal. Unfortunately for him, moving on meant talking to Claire and forgiving her to a degree. “He just wanted advice on how to handle a teenage identity crisis.”

“Oh, well I guess you know what happening now.”

“Ben and I are talking now, just so you know.” Dean said as he pushed away from the counter, sitting at the kitchen table next to Claire. She bristled away and, despite his anger, Dean’s heart panged. “I don’t condone what you did, let’s make that perfectly clear, but now that it’s out we can move on from it. So in a roundabout way where I don’t technically owe you anything, I suppose a little mercy is acceptable. Consider this the end of the hate campaign because I’m too fucking tired to be enemies with a teenage girl.”

“Thanks I guess. I’m glad you and Ben are talking again.”

“Me too.” Dean nodded. He wanted to end the conversation there but Claire wanted to talk to Ben and Ben wasn’t going to be home for a while. Sending her home was an option but then she’d just be back and it’d be more awkward. Then there was the whole identity crisis that she was having that Cas knew about. It wasn’t Dean’s place to speak on it, she wasn’t his kid, but she was Cas’ and with the amount of advice Cas had given him it only seemed fair that he tried to help out too.

“So, why the identity crisis? I get having it now, sixteen sucks, but you really didn’t seem all that unstable.”

Claire gave Dean a look, silently asking him why he was even bothering to ask about it. The man didn’t like her and he wasn’t her father so it didn’t exactly make sense to her why he cared. She approached the answer with caution, wary of pissing him off and even warier of his motives.

“Relax, I’m not trying to be weird here.” Dean said. “I’m trying to be more open to other people so we can avoid the bullshit we just went through. Call it homework from my therapist.”

That caught Claire’s attention and she looked at Dean closer. Apparently they had more in common than she thought. “I’m trying to figure out who I am if you really need to know. Not that I expect you to get it, you’re old so you probably know who you are.”

Dean’s eye twitched at the insult but he bit his tongue. He was doing Cas a favour here, he told himself, trying to help his friend’s kid. Even if said kid wasn’t making it easy. “Let me let you in on a secret here kid, I don’t think there’s a single adult who knows exactly who they are. Maybe your dad but he’s an exception to a lot of things. I sure as fuck don’t know.”

“How do you not know, aren’t you like 40?”

“33, and being a teen parent kind of puts a damper on self-discovery.” Dean replied, irritation continuing to bubble under the surface. “Point is is that you’re never going to know one hundred percent who you are so you really don’t need to pressure yourself into figuring it out. That’s just gonna land you in therapy, trust me. Just take it a day at a time and it’ll work itself out eventually.”

“That’s not really helpful but thanks I guess.”

Dean shrugged his shoulders, not particularly bothered by Claire’s statement. He didn’t have any particularly good advice to give her. As the conversation died and the awkwardness returned, Dean prayed that Ben would get home so he could excuse himself and do what he needed to do. Minute seven of silence was broken by the creaking of the front door and Dean nearly wept with relief.

Ben wandered into the kitchen a few minutes later, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Dean and Claire in the kitchen. His eyes flitted between his dad and Claire as he tried to figure out what was happening and why the pair were together. He turned to leave almost immediately but Dean spoke, stopping him.

“Don’t go anywhere. I think you and Claire need to talk. I’m going to give you two some space.”

With that Dean made a quick exit from the kitchen, leaving Claire and Ben alone in the kitchen. Ben turned away from her so he could unpack his lunch, the Tupperware clattering as he set them on the counter. Spork abandoned Claire in favour of Ben, hopping on the counter to toy with the Tupperware that had once contained a ham sandwich.

“How’d you convince my dad to let you in?”

Claire finally looked up at Ben, still unsure. “He thinks he owes my dad for advice or something. Also I wanted to apologize.”

“You wanted to apologize. That’s new.”

“Yeah, well therapy and everyone around me maybe made me realize I was wrong and a dick.”

“Therapy?”

Claire nodded her head. “Yeah, therapy. I uh, I kinda realized I’m maybe not as stable as I thought or who I really wanna be and it’s not like I can figure it out on my own. I thought apologizing to everyone was the right thing to do.”

“So you apologized to my dad and he let you stay?”

“Well I apologized and he hasn’t really forgiven me which is so fair but he doesn’t really wanna beef with a 16 year old so he kinda moved on. I also came here to apologize to you.”

That caught Ben’s attention and he stopped what he was doing, focusing all of his attention on Claire. They hadn’t spoken in weeks and that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Ben had needed the time to think and cool down and figure out exactly what the hell was happening in his life. He could see Claire was different, the aura around her was less forced and more subdued. It was incredibly strange.

“Are you being serious?”

“Yeah. I went about shit wrong and I didn’t really think about your feelings or the fallout and I really shouldn’t have done that and I’m really sorry.” She said, folding her hands together. “I didn’t want to hurt you and I really should’ve thought about what my actions would’ve done. Now I could give you reasons and excuses like I don’t know who I am and I’m confused and I needed something to make me feel excited but I don’t want to excuse what I’ve done. I want to own up to it and admit I was wrong and try to make up for it. I want to be a better friend, a friend you deserve.”

Ben mulled over what Claire was saying. There was sincerity in her voice and he had the feeling she meant every word she was saying. He was still upset with the outcome of things and what she had told him before but it looked like she was trying to be different, willing to admit she had been wrong, and that didn’t mean nothing. Being wrong sucked and apologizing for being wrong was almost harder to do.

“Do you mean that?”

“I do. It’s why I’ve apologized to everyone, also why I’m seeing someone, granted that’s also the identity issues but that’s a whole other thing.”

“I’m still frustrated with what you did but I get it and I’m willing to move on. Just please don’t try and nuke my life again, once was way more than enough.”

A wave of relief washed over Claire and her shoulders relaxed, expression softening too. Ben hadn’t yelled at her and he hadn’t kicked her and it seemed like they’d be fine. All she had to do was not pull a stunt like that again and after the fallout, she’d be hard pressed to do something like that again.

“Thank god.” She murmured, relaxing further when Spork returned to her lap demanding affection.

“Is Kaia cool with you now too? I’d kind of like to eat lunch with you guys again. Love my teammates but they’re kind of awful sometimes.”

“She’s cool, so is Jack. You were the last stop on the apology tour.”

“Okay fantastic, that’s great.” He said, leaning against the counter. You’ve cut your hair since the last time we talked, I like it. It’s edgy, suits you.”

“Thanks. A breakdown’ll do that to you. But thank Jack, they’re the one that cut it. I said sorry and we had a sibling sleepover. Brokered the peace with a charleston chew.”

“That’s a disgusting candy but I respect their choice.”

Claire nodded her head in agreement.

While Claire and Ben talked in the kitchen, Dean showered and changed upstairs before slipping out the back door to work in his shop. He was stopped about halfway across his lawn when Cas called his name and he turned, making his way to the fence with a smile.

“Didn’t see you this morning, missed our coffee chat.” Dean said, leaning against the fence.

“I’m sorry, I had a work emergency that kind of required all of my attention. Anyways, how’re you feeling after Friday night?”

“Well, I don’t think I knew what planet I was on the next morning but pretty good otherwise. Still can’t believe I got up onstage, would not have done that sober. Also definitely regret googling a Prince Albert piercing.”

Cas’ smile cracked into a grin and he laughed, a deep rumbling sound erupting from his chest. Dean, who’d heard Cas laugh before but not like that, was struck by how warm the sound was. It seemed to reverberate through him and the familiar drunken flutter returned to his stomach for a passing moment.

“Yeah, that’s all you’re going to think about when you see Benny for the next few months. Took me a while to get used to it but you’ll live.” He chuckled. “Are you still available Friday night?”

“Wouldn’t miss it. Why?”

“It’ll have to be a bit later, that’s all. The kids are insistent that we celebrate my birthday together and I have another friend stopping by shortly after. Could we do 10?”

“I didn’t realize it was your birthday. Happy early birthday. But yeah, 10 is totally cool. Actually gives me some time to do some of my own stuff. Want me to bring something over?”

Cas shook his head. “After hearing Ben complain about your baking skills, I’ll pass. But thanks for the offer.”

“Okay rude, but fair. I’ll bring just myself then.”

“Sounds good. See you later Dean.”

“Bye Cas.”

Chapter Text

“Hey, can I ask you a question?”

Jack glanced up from their English homework at the sound of Ben’s voice. The pair had been in Cas’ kitchen for the better part of two hours after school as they worked on a partner project for their English class, some kind of poetry analysis Ben didn’t quite understand but Jack seemed to love. “Yeah, shoot.”

“So Claire,” Ben began, unsure how to broach the topic with any grace, “she’s available, right?”

Jack set their pencil down, curiosity getting the better of them. “Available as in available to talk right now or?”

“Available as in ‘not dating anyone’ available.”

Jack looked disturbed, brows furrowed and mouth downturned into a sour expression. The question didn’t surprise them, they’d seen the way Ben had acted around Claire for months. What surprised Jack was that Ben was asking about Claire after everything she’d done to nuke his life. The capacity to cause a metric fuck ton of damage wasn’t exactly a star quality.

“She blew up your life dude, are you really still crushing on her?”

“Not exactly.” Ben sighed, setting his own pencil down. “I was at first and then the whole egg donor thing kind of ruined it and now we’re friends again and I don’t think I want to date her but I still think she’s pretty. I just wanna know if I’d have a chance if the crush or whatever somehow doesn’t go away.”

“You don’t have a chance and you never have.”

“What do you mean I never had a chance?”

Jack laughed, unable to help themself. They felt bad for Ben but the free entertainment was also great. “You know Claire and you know Kaia and you’ve seen them interact together. Kaia’s a lesbian, which isn’t really a big deal but also kind of is, and Claire’s well...”

“Oh,” Ben said, eyes widening. “Oh I didn’t know.”

“She doesn’t know either.”

“Huh? What the fuck does ‘she doesn’t know either’ mean?”

“Dude, she’s been in love with Kaia since they were seven and she still has no idea. That’s what that means.”

“How can you be in love with someone and not know? Like that seems so backwards.”

Jack shrugged their shoulders. “I don’t date, I wouldn’t know. But I think it’s like a female friendship thing where they do the same stuff that like a couple would but because they’re both girls and already friends it’s just seen as a friend thing? Like I know Kaia likes her and you do too now but I don’t think Claire realizes it and Kaia’s not gonna make a move because she doesn’t want to screw up their friendship.”

“That’s way too complicated so definitely gonna stay clear of that.”

“As you should. They can figure it out on their own, I’m not getting involved and having Claire rip my head off again unless she like begs me in tears. Maybe it’ll be my dad’s problem, he’s probably got advice about this.”

“He seems like he would, more than my dad would anyway. Mine’s been on a few dates with some blonde vet tech but I dunno if it’s gonna go anywhere. Not really my problem anyways.”

“Speaking of problems, can we please get back to English so we’re not doing it until you have to leave?”

Ben grumbled under his breath but agreed with Jack, turning back to his paper. Poetry was the worst.

While the pair of them worked in the kitchen, Claire and Kaia were busy upstairs. They’d finished their analysis an hour ago and were currently sitting on Claire’s bed. Kaia’s eyes were closed and Claire was leaned in close, gently brushing highlighter onto Kaia’s face.

“You never let me do your makeup so what gives?” She asked, setting the brush down so she could find the eyeliner.

“Maybe I just wanted to be nice and let you do it.”

“Okay bullshit. You asked me to do this, you didn’t just let me. So what gives?”

Kaia sighed, opening her eyes when she felt the eyeliner pen leave her eyelids. She leaned back, fighting the urge to rub at her eyelids. “I have a date, that’s why I’m leaving at 3:30.”

“Woah woah woah, you have a date? I didn’t even know you liked anyone. You need to spill like all of the details right now.”

Kaia rubbed the back of her neck, suddenly embarrassed by Claire’s undivided attention. The crush itself wasn’t embarrassing and neither was the date but something about coming clean to Claire was. It wasn’t the scrutiny so much as it was the circumstances around the date.

“Which guy is it? Is it Mark? Cuz you’re always hanging around with him and he’s a nice guy but you can do way better.”

“It’s with Max.”

Claire’s expression shifted, confusion colouring it. She knew everyone Kaia hung around with and Max wasn’t a familiar name. None of the captains were a Max and neither were the club presidents. Kaia had never mentioned a Max before either. Claire wracked her brain trying to think of who Max was, simultaneously trying to ignore that same roiling feeling that was blooming in her chest.

“I got nothing.” She said finally. “Who’s Max?”

“You remember that girl I was talking to on Tuesday?”

Claire nodded her head. “Yeah, why?”

“That’s who I’m going on a date with.”

Claire’s eyes widened when Kaia gave her the final piece of the puzzle. She’d never even considered that the date could be with a girl, let alone some random girl. Kaia had never told her that she liked women and she’d never looked as embarrassed and shy as she did now.

“Are you gonna say something?” Kaia asked awkwardly, the silence hanging in between them incredibly uncomfortable.

“Yeah, sorry. I just didn’t realize you liked girls. Not that that’s a problem cuz I don’t care, it’s just a little surprising.” Claire said, quickly trying to overcorrect herself. The revelation, while not surprising, sent the flipping feeling in her stomach into overdrive and the roiling in her chest to a quick boil. “How long have you liked her?”

“Not that long. I kind of like someone else but it’s never gonna go anywhere so I’m trying to move on and Max is really nice so I’m gonna feel it out and go from there.”

That piqued Claire’s interest. “Oh? Who’s the long-time crush, anyone I know?”

Kaia flushed red, immediate regret flooding her system. She shook her head, a blatant lie, and glanced down at her phone. “I gotta go, it’s past 3:30 and I don’t wanna be late. I’ll text you when I get home, ‘kay?”

“Okay, yeah. You look really pretty, go knock her dead. Good luck.”

Kaia offered Claire a smile before she headed out, leaving around the same time as Ben. By the time Claire was able to bring herself downstairs, Jack was already aproned up in the kitchen. They glanced up at her before tossing her an apron. “Bout time you got down here. I can’t bake dad’s birthday cake alone.”

“Sorry, got distracted.” Claire mumbled as she put the apron on, sidling up to Jack to help them bake the cake. She remained distracted as she helped Jack, nearly missing the bowl when she went to pour the flour in. It was when she cracked an egg and dropped it on the floor that Jack finally called her out.

“Okay what’s your deal? You’re clearly not paying attention and I really don’t want to clean up more flour and egg if I can help it.”

“Kaia’s going on a date.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “That’s why you’re spinning out?”

“She’s going on a date with a girl she doesn’t know that well and had me her put makeup on. Then she told me she has a long time crush but that they don’t like her back and they probably won’t ever but she didn’t tell me who it is.”

Jack bit back a comment as they knelt down to clean up the egg and the flower, dumping the trash in the bin. They know who Kaia liked and they knew exactly why Claire was reacting the way she was but they weren’t going to comment on it. That was a problem for Cas when he got home.

“You should be happy she’s putting herself out there, that’s hard to do.” Jack said as they slid the cake in the oven. “Ask dad about it, see what he says. He’s probably got some advice or something.”

“Maybe I will.” She replied, pulling her apron off. She left the kitchen to grab the present she’d wrapped for Cas, setting it on the kitchen table for when he’d get home.

Cas got home about 40 minutes later, the scent of his Chinese takeout mingling with the scent of the cake now cooling on the counter. He kicked off his shoes before making his way to the kitchen, setting the bags of takeout onto the table next to the wrapped present.

“You two certainly made a mess.” He chuckled, eyes scanning over the messy kitchen counter. “Cake smells good though.”

“It’s lemon blueberry layer cake and it’s your birthday cake so we’re really hoping it tastes okay.” Jack said, making their way over to Cas to give him a hug. “Happy birthday, dad.”

Cas hugged back, smiling at Jack. He looked over at Claire, opening an arm. “Can I get a hug from you or are you too cool for that now?"

“You’re so lucky I’m having an emotional crisis right now.” Claire said, obliging Cas and hugging him.

“Is this a new crisis or part of the ongoing crisis?”

“Kaia’s going on a date, with a girl. She wants to get over her current crush.” Jack explained, looking unusually smug. “Claire’s crashing out because Kaia won’t tell her who her long time crush is.”

“Ah. That’s an after we eat conversation. So sit and eat, please.”

Confused by Cas’ lack of reaction, Claire simply sat at the table to eat. She couldn’t quite wrap her head around why he seemed so nonplussed or why Jack seemed so smug. It bothered her, if she was being honest. It felt like she was the only one not in on some grand cosmic joke and that was royally unfair. She was on edge as they ate the cake (which was mediocre at best despite Cas’ repeated praise) and was about ready to throw herself off of it when Cas spent entirely too long opening the vintage purple slag glass hen-on-nest they’d gifted him for his birthday.

When they’d finished eating and opening presents and were comfortably sitting in the living room, Claire let her feelings out. She turned from her perched position on the arm chair, looking directly at Cas. “So now that we’re done eating and opening presents, can we return to my current crisis? Because you didn’t react at all and Jack looks smug and I feel like I’m the butt of a joke that I don’t understand.”

“I’m going to describe something to you and I want you to tell me if it’s accurate or not but you have to wait until I finish talking. That okay?”

“Fine.”

Cas held back a chuckle before starting. “She told you she likes girls and you weren’t surprised because you’ve always had that feeling and you don’t really care. When she told you she was going on a date you immediately needed to know who it was so you could assess whether or not they were good enough for her but you know in your brain that no one’s good enough. It’s about right there that you get this feeling in your stomach or your chest, this deep ugly roiling feeling that makes you queasy and lightheaded that you push down.”

Claire, listening intently, didn’t like where Cas was heading. He continued.

“You could probably ignore it until Kaia told you who she was going out with and that it was to get over her current crush. We know you like to know things so not knowing who her crush is and the refusal to tell you probably made that queasy feeling even worse. I’m guessing, and it’s not so much a guess as it is something you’ve already told me, that you get frustrated when you see her talking to guys. That sound about right?”

“I don’t like how that’s accurate.”

Cas nodded his head, unsurprised she wasn’t pleased. He knew she probably wasn’t going to like the rest of the conversation but she’d wanted it so they were having it. “You’re jealous, kiddo. That’s what happening.”

“I’m not jealous. Why would I be jealous of Kaia?”

“Dude, you’re not jealous of Kaia.” Jack mumbled, exasperated.

“Then who the fuck am I jealous of?”

“Language.” Cas chided gently. “But you’re jealous of the guys she talks to, and the girl she’s on a date with.”

“How does that make any sense? There’s literally no reason for me to be jealous of them.”

It was Jack that responded, finally reaching their limit. They’d watch the situation for years and enough was enough. Kaia wouldn’t admit anything and Claire was too clueless to notice without a great deal of help. They practically leapt to their feet as they spoke, tone full of frustration. “Oh my god, Claire, you like her! You’re in love with Kaia and you’re jealous she’s going on dates with people that aren’t you.”

“I am not in love with her! I just don’t want her to date people who aren’t good enough for her! Dad, tell Jack they’re wrong.”

Cas sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t think they’re wrong, Claire.”

That stopped Claire in her tracks. She stared at Cas and Jack, expression horrified and confused. “So I’m in love with Kaia and gay? Am I understanding right?”

Jack nodded, choosing not to elaborate. Cas, on the other hand, decided to explain a bit more so he didn’t send Claire spiraling into another emotional crisis.

“You don’t need to label yourself for starters, that’s more of a choice and less of a guideline but I tend to agree with Jack here. You were nine when you told me you and Kaia were going to get married which was sweet at the time so there were definitely signs. But answer this: have you ever looked at a boy and thought about kissing him or hugging him or doing anything more than talking to him?”

Claire shook her head.

“Okay, not that weird but keep that in mind. You glue yourself to Kaia’s side, do everything with her, and while I know female friendships are usually a lot more physical than male friendships, you have to admit that some of the things you do don’t seem platonic. Like the cuddling on the couch for example or the constant clothes sharing or the looks you two give each other that you think no one notices.”

Claire flushed beet red, mortification running through her veins. Cas was correct with what he’d said but that didn’t mean she had to like it. Sure they shared clothing and cuddled but all girls did that. That wasn’t a gay thing, was it? But the looks, the looks might’ve been. It was something Cas said that she hung onto. “She gives me looks when I’m not looking?”

“So many looks.” Jack mumbled. “It’s actually insane. Like it makes me want to vomit.”

“There have been a number, yes.” Cas agreed.

Claire looked at them both before she let out a long breath, shoulders slumping slightly. “I need to go think about this. It’s a lot and I don’t love the callout. So come on Jack, grab your shit so we can leave and dad can do his thing with his friend. I need to have my brooding main character moment at bowling.”

“Kay cool, will do. Guess I'm the supporting cast yet again.” Jack said, making a beeline for their bag.

When both kids had their bags in hand and were ready to head out, planning on hanging out with friends for the night as they did every year on Cas’ birthday for a number of reasons, they stopped by the door. They wished Cas another happy birthday before they left him for the night.

~

Dean stared at the two t-shirts laid out on top of his plaid bedspread, eyes flitting between them with uncertainty. To the left was a tried and true, a baggy zeppelin tee so faded the print was nearly invisible, and to the right was a newer tighter shirt he’d picked up from an up and coming band somewhere out near El Paso when he’d travelled for work.

“What do you think I should pick?” He asked, glancing at the cat who was stretched across his pillows. Dean had given up on trying to keep Spork away from him and his bedroom and had embraced the allergy pill a day lifestyle. Truth be told, the cat was a menace but he was cute and that meant he was acceptable. Spork swatted at the shirt on the right and Dean took his action as gospel, throwing it on. If Cas knew Marid, maybe he knew The Funeral Portrait too.

With acceptable clothing on Dean made his way downstairs, grabbing a few things before leaving and heading over to Cas’. He paused on his porch when he noticed Cas’ front door opening, curiosity piqued. It wasn’t his kids because they were spending the night with friends and from afar it didn’t look like a neighbour either. Leaning closer and squinting, Dean got a good look at the stranger.

She was short and her dark hair seemed to blend into the leather of her jacket. Stature aside, Dean couldn’t get a good look at her face until she stepped back into the light of the porch. She was pretty enough from what he could see but he was focusing less on her face and more on the piece of clothing that was being handed to her from inside the house. The bra was unmistakable and Dean found himself looking away, embarrassed he’d seen yet another neighbour’s private moment. She was one of Cas’ hookups then.

Only when the way was clear and the woman long gone did Dean step off of his porch and cross the driveways. He began to set down the pot he was holding so he could knock but he was saved from doing so when Cas opened the door. The first thing Dean noticed was how disheveled Cas was, his hair swept away from his temples and sticking out as if someone had run their hands through it.

“Right on time.” Cas smiled, his deeper than usual voice sending a spike of surprise through Dean. “Come on in.”

Dean stepped across the threshold, getting a better look at Cas in the light of the house. Messy hair and deep voice aside, there was a mark beginning to bloom at the junction of his neck and collarbone. Dean’s eyes landed on it and when Cas noticed he chuckled in amusement before adjusting the edge of his t-shirt to cover it. “I take it Meg wasn’t as subtle as she usually is when she leaves.”

“She would’ve been fine if I’d left like two minutes later. Nice of you to give her her bra back, most men I know would've just kept it.” Dean shrugged, trying to act like he wasn’t mortified. “I brought barbecue and a birthday present.”

“You didn’t have to bring a present.”

“Felt like it, everyone deserves a present on their birthday. It’s just on the porch.” He said, stepping back so Cas could get a look. Sitting on the porch looking rather innocuous was a small tree in a large pot of dirt. “It’s a cold hardy pomegranate tree. I remembered you mentioning something about wanting one a few weeks ago and I happened to see it when I was out at a client’s place helping them install a hydroponics frame. They’ve got a plant nursery that does all kind of fruit trees.”

Cas turned back to Dean once he'd taken a look at the tree, a genuine smile plastered on his face. “That’s really sweet of you, thank you. You know ancient Iranians believed the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden was actually a pomegranate, not an apple. Also most cultures use it as a sign of fertility.”

“I would say it’s weird you know that but I’m not surprised that you do. The barbecue’s less exciting, it’s just brisket and some grilled veg.”

“I’m not complaining about it. Never been able to master barbecuing. Seems so easy but it’s really not.” Cas said as he led Dean into the kitchen, setting the food down. He turned his back to Dean to rifle through the cabinets for two plates and some utensils.

From his vantage point, Dean watched Cas stand on his toes to get the plates. When his shirt lifted, Dean found his eyes drawn to the red scratches on Cas’ back. Puffy and bright against his skin, they were unmistakable and Dean let out a whistle caught somewhere between disbelief and being impressed. “You really did have some fun.”

“Hey, it’s my birthday and I’m entitle to celebrate it with a bang if I want to.” Cas said, pointing a fork at Dean before offering it to him. “Gotta keep limber in my early middle age.”

Unsure of how to respond, Dean simply accepted the fork and had a few bites of brisket. Less interested in actually eating, he watched Cas and tried to gauge his reaction. Cas was silent at first, simply tasting the forkful. It was only after he had a few more forkfuls that he finally reacted. “Damn, you know how to handle your meat. This is fantastic.”

“That’s why they call me the meat man.”

Cas bit down on his tongue to stop his immediate reaction from escaping, resulting in an incredibly ungraceful moment of choking before he was right again. Judging by the look on Dean’s face, the other man had no idea the reference he’d just made and somehow that was more endearing than if he’d known. Cas wanted nothing more than to respond with a joke but he knew it wouldn’t land well so he avoided it, simply putting his fork down.

“Apt nickname I suppose.” Cas finally mumbled. “Now I know the entire point of hanging out is to watch tv but I’ve got a bit of a birthday ritual that I think would be more fun with two people.”

“I feel like I need to be concerned now. Please don’t lure me into your basement and tie me up.”

Cas grinned, deciding to push his luck and feel Dean out. “Tormenting people in the basement isn’t really my thing. Different story in other rooms.”

“And this is the part where I admit I know way too much about your preferences and sex life.”

“Oh this is nothing, I’m being tame. But if you really feel that bad, share with the class. I’d be curious to know what makes the great Dean Winchester tick. Besides, you're the one who keeps pegging me for things and if I didn't know any better I'd make a few assumptions about you.”

“My grammar choices are made in pure clean fun.” Dean mumbled, turning bright red. "And a man doesn't kiss and tell. At least not while he's sober."

Cas snapped his fingers, ending the motion as he pointed at Dean. “Fair point that just so happens to coincide with what I do on my birthday. Do you smoke?”

“Cigs, no. Didn’t think you did either.”

“Weed, Dean, not cigs.” Cas corrected. “I smoke a joint or two on my birthday, thought you might enjoy it too.”

“You know what, sure. It’s a Friday and your birthday and it’ll be fun. Lead the way.”

Cas smiled again before taking Dean out to the back porch. He’d already laid everything out so all he did was hand Dean one of the joints and flick the lighter on. When they’d both lit up and he’d set the lighter back down, Cas took the first long drag and sighed happily. “I’m so glad you moved into the neighbourhood.”

“Yeah? You hate the other neighbours that much?” Dean chuckled, taking a slow drag of his joint.

“It’s nice to have a dad friend, as stupid as that sounds. You understand all of the drama and bullshit and you’re not judgmental about it either. Maybe the fact you’re an interesting dude is helpful too. World could use more interesting people I think.”

Dean turned his head, facing Cas. “I get the dad friend thing, trust me. Love my best friend but she’s a 33 year old childfree lesbian so it’s not exactly like she gets everything. But thanks for thinking I’m interesting, I don’t get that a lot.”

“Really? That seems hard to believe.”

“Not really. I work and spend time with my kid and that’s about it. Hell, us going out the other night was the first time I’ve been to a bar with a friend in years.”

“Guess I’ll have to drag you out more often. I promise I’ve got an incredibly rich social life.”

“I believe it.” Dean said, stamping out the end of his blunt. “There’s just something about you.”

Cas, who was beginning to relax as he rolled a second joint, paused what he was doing and looked up at Dean. The statement felt open ended and he was curious. “Flattery will get you everywhere, just so you know. But you’ve got me interested now. What is it about me?”

“Confidence. It’s the first thing I noticed about you.”

“Really?”

Dean nodded his head, taking the second joint from Cas. “Yeah. We met and you were immediately just friendly and cracking jokes and it’s really hard to resist. You’re just easy to talk to and easy to get along with. Weird sense of humour but I fuck with it.”

Cas felt the heat prickle his cheeks and he was thankful the light on his porch barely worked. It was an odd feeling and not one he’d experienced in a number of months. He knew it well and knew what it meant but chose to ignore it, taking another drag.

“I wasn’t always confident, believe it or not.”

“Now that seems like a lie.”

“It’s not, I swear.” He admitted, seeming uncharacteristically shy all of a sudden. His voice was softer, the gravel smoother as he took on a more introspective tone. “I used to be a tight laced church kid, khakis and all. One of those sit in the back and try not to get noticed types.”

Dean’s surprise came out in a cloud of smoke followed by a cough that burnt the back of his throat. He took a minute to compose himself, gratefully accepting the water bottle Cas offered him. When the burning in his throat was minimal, he spoke again.

“I don’t think I ever would’ve guessed that. You got pictures?”

“You need to swear on your life you’ll never tell another soul I showed you.”

Dean held out his pinky, seeking out Cas’ gaze. “I swear on my life that I’ll never tell anyone what you show me tonight.”

“I’m holding you to this.” Cas said as he hooked his pinky around Dean’s, shaking their hands. Dean’s hand was rough and warm, much like Cas had suspected it would be, and the thought that he could simply grab Dean’s hand and hold it blipped in and out of existence. That was a stupid risky move and now was not the time for it.

Cas let go of Dean’s hand and finished his blunt in silence, waiting for Dean to do the same. When the pair had finished they headed back inside and Cas led Dean to a different part of the house. He took Dean up the stairs and down the hallway, pushing open the door.

Dean stopped to admire the door, a solid piece of well waxed oak with floral carvings. It was Victorian, undoubtedly, and the craftsmanship evident. Cas, already in the room, turned to see why Dean hadn’t followed and chuckled in exasperation. “Of course you’d get distracted by the door.”

“I know a good piece of wood when I see one and I will not apologize for that.” Dean replied, too busy staring at the door to notice the flush that appeared on Cas’ face. It was gone by the time he finished examining the door and he stepped into the bedroom.

The shag carpet squished underneath his socked feet, a firm hardwood floor buried beneath said carpet. Directly in front of Dean was the bed and his eyes were drawn to the colour and grain of the cherry wood and brass fixtures attached to the bottom storage drawers. He stepped toward the bed, crouching down to inspect the fixtures. They were solid, heavy and cold in his hand, and nodded to himself in approval. From his vantage point Dean could see the armoire, the nightstands, and the 5 drawer chest were also made from cherry wood with the same brass fixtures.

“Holy shit, is that an actual tiffany lamp?” Dean mumbled as he stopped by one of the nightstands, running his fingers over the soldering lines of the blue floral glass. Next to the lamp was a book and Dean glanced at the title, unsurprised to find a literary classic. Cas seemed like he’d read those.

“You’ve got a good eye, it is. Found it at an antique mall in Canada, building had three stories full of antiques.” Cas chuckled, leaning against the armoire as he watched Dean. Floating heady high from the weed aside, there was something intimate about the way Dean was examining his space. It was curious without being judgmental and Dean seemed genuinely excited by what he was seeing. That wasn’t typical.

“I see you’re reading Dorian Gray, that’s a good one. You like the classics then?”

“They’re classics for a reason.”

“That’s fair,” Dean said as he stood back up, finally turning around to face Cas. “I don’t know if sci-fi’s your thing but you should check out Kurt Vonnegut. I’d argue he should be part of classic lit. His shit’s incredible.”

“Got a specific novel in mind?”

Dean thought for a moment, running over all of the novels he’d read before settling on one. It was harder to think than he’d expected, the weed making his head fuzzy, but one novel in particular stood out to him. “Slaughterhouse Five, that’s the one I think you’d like. I can find my copy and bring it over tomorrow or at some point, but only if you want.”

“I’d like that.” Cas smiled, turning away to pull open one of the drawers of the armoire. He rummaged for a bit before pulling out a photo album, tucking it against his chest before sitting on the bed.

The way he cradled it, like he was in awe of and afraid of it at the same time, intrigued Dean. It felt like childhood and Dean wondered if it he’d feel the same if Mary ever pulled out her photo albums. He shuffled over to the bed and sat down next to Cas, finding himself surprised yet again at how soft the fleece blanket on his bed was.

“So, show me little Castiel. I’m ready to have my socks knocked off.”

Cas took a deep breath and opened the photo album. He decided to skip the younger years because they really didn’t matter, deciding to stop and let Dean see photos as far back as when he was 13. There was no guaranteeing how Dean would react to them and Cas hadn’t shown many people the photos but he trusted Dean. There was something about his friend that put him at ease, that reassured Cas that he wouldn’t be judged.

Dean stared at the photo on the first page, really taking in the details. Cas was there, standing in the left corner dressed in the dreaded khakis and a blue and white plaid button up. His brother, Dean assumed given their identical looks, stood beside him in an exact replica of Cas’ outfit. Behind them stood a shorter but stern older man and a woman whose face was just out of frame.

“We had to take that photo for the church directory.” Cas explained, scooting closer to Dean so he could point at the photos if need be. “I didn’t want to be there and my brother, Jimmy, also really didn’t want to be there.”

“I can tell, you’ve got the same broody look there that you’ve got now.”

“Hey, I do not brood.”

“Liar. I’ve seen the way you stare at your carrots when you pull up one you think is good but is actually really small and you do so brood. It’s this like intense brow furrow and pout and it’s a little ridiculous. Like this.” Dean said, demonstrating. He furrowed his brows as deeply as he could, lips pursed so tightly it was almost comedic.

Cas stared at him, indignation stark on his face. It took him a moment to register what he was seeing but when he did, he laughed and reached out to shove Dean gently. “I do not look like that. Dean Winchester I am so offended. I might have to go talk to your mother.”

“Oh my god, I see the whiny do-gooder church kid now. Don’t you dare tell my mother.” Dean replied, holding back a laugh himself. “And I was being nice with that impression. I could’ve really hammed it up, maybe even added a voice impression.”

“I will kick you out of my house if you try to do a voice impression. There’s only so much wounding my pride can take.”

Dean held up his hands in mock surrender. “Got it, no impressions. Now come on, I want to see more high school Cas. I just know you had a rebellious phase.”

Cas acquiesced and flipped through a few pages before settling on another photo. He was sixteen in this photo and dressed in a way Dean had never expected him to have dressed. From the combat boots on his feet to the ripped jeans, black t-shirt, and leather jacket, Dean was shocked. The shock continued when Dean squinted, the glint of an earring in Cas’ right ear and the smudged makeup under his eyes becoming clearer.

“No fucking way you were emo.” He said, still staring at the photo. “Is that actual eyeliner and an earring?”

Cas nodded his head, the embarrassed flush returning to his face. The only other person who had seen that photo was Jimmy and that was only because he’d been the one to take it. He’d loved the fashion of his rebellious phase but didn’t love everything else that came along with it.

“I don’t do emos but that’s not a bad look on you at all, Cas. You should do the earring again.”

“Hole’s been closed up for years, no way in hell I’d be able to get an earring in there now.”

“Get it pierced then, if that’s something you wanna do,” Dean shrugged. “I thought about getting an earring years ago but then I just never had the time or the money. All I’ve got is a shitty matching tattoo with Charlie.”

“To be honest I’m surprised you have just one. You seem like the type to have a sleeve.”

“It’s in the works, don’t you worry about that.” Dean said, turning his attention back to the photo. “Looks like you rebelled.”

“I did. More than I meant to but I suppose that’s the price you pay for discovering who you are.”

Dean pursed his lips as the atmosphere in the room changed, souring. Clearly Cas didn’t exactly like reflecting on that point in his life and Dean didn’t want to force him. With the high fading away, the onslaught of emotions would probably be uncomfortable.

“Doesn’t sound fun. Now come on, pretty sure we were supposed to be watching 911 like a half hour ago and I, for one, want to know more about this Eddie Diaz guy.”

Cas glanced over at Dean, relief evident as his face relaxed. He got off the bed and returned the album to the armoire, waiting for Dean to get up, before heading downstairs. The couch was waiting for them and they took their usual spots, Dean on the left and Cas on the right. They sat closer this time, not quite touching but almost. It was easier to share the snacks that way.

“You’re an alright guy, Dean,” Cas said as he grabbed the remote to find the show. “You don’t seem judgmental. Very few people are like that.”

“I judge in my head but I don’t say the thoughts. No point in hurting people’s feelings and being needlessly cruel. And you don’t judge people either so.”

Cas shrugged again, putting the episode on and settling down. He snuck a glance over at Dean about three episodes into their watch and smiled to himself. This was a good birthday, the best he’d had in a long time.

Chapter Text

Rowena was restocking her tea blends when she heard the doorbell ring. “I’ll be right there.” She called, trying to hurry. One thing she prided herself on was excellent customer service. When her arms and hands were free of her sleepytime tea blend, she made her way out of the maze of bookshelves and to the front of the store.

“You took your sweet time, must be those short legs.” Cas teased, grinning at her from his position as he leaned against the counter.

“Oh dearie, I assure you no one’s complained about what these legs can do.” She replied, returning behind the counter to have a seat on the stool there. “Been a while since you’ve popped in. Need another prosperity charm?”

“I don’t even know what I need at this point.”

Rowena raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “I’ll put some tea on, seems like you might need it. Any preference on the blend?”

“Got anything for clarity?”

Rowena nodded her head and excused herself, heading to the back to put on a pot of tea for the two of them. Her and Cas frequently met up after work at either of their shops to chat over a cup of tea and coffee so this wasn’t abnormal. They’d discussed all manner of things so she knew nothing was off the table when it came to what was happening in their lives. But Cas hadn’t stopped by in a while and he hadn’t given her any clues about what was happening so far.

“Clarity then. What’s going on?” Rowena asked as she returned with two cups of tea.

“Dean Winchester is ruining my life.”

The surprise was evident on Rowena’s face and her posture shifted, shoulders pulling in as she leaned in closer. Of all the things she’d expected Cas to say, it certainly wasn’t that. Bringing up Dean was no surprise, she’d seen the two of them hanging out too many times to count and had her own suspicions of what they were getting up to. But the way Cas had phrased it made her uncertain.

“And how is our lumbering flannel clad carpenter ruining your life?”

Cas sighed, taking a sip of his tea in an attempt to give himself more time to think. “As you know, I like to have fun and I’m not ashamed of that and the fun’s continued since Dean’s moved here. Well I ran into a bit of a problem Friday night when one of my friends came over.”

“Which friend got lucky Friday?” Rowena asked, sipping her tea.

“Well Meg came over but uh, I don’t know if I’d say she got lucky.”

Rowena looked at Cas, keeping her expression neutral. Despite her attempts, there was curiosity and amusement in her eyes and they asked Cas to elaborate without using words. She knew she could probably figure it out without asking or having him tell her but there was something incredibly satisfying about having a suspicion confirmed by an embarrassed man. And embarrassed Cas was, his entire face red as he stared down at the table.

“I couldn’t get it up.”

“Oh you poor dear.”

“It’s fine, it worked out in the end. She got off and had a good time and left but I had less of a good time.”

“Things happen, you’re hardly the first man to have that problem.” Rowena reassured, setting her cup down. Her and Cas had been having conversations like this for years so she was hardly surprised by the nature of their discussion. What did catch her off guard, or rather, what confused her, was how Dean played into it. “I’m not sure I understand how Dean figures into all of this though.”

“You’ve seen the man, Rowena, he’s hot. He’s a Grade A dilf with tree trunks for arms and the biggest hands I’ve ever fucking seen. Don’t even get me started on his grin and the stupid jokes he makes. Do you see my problem now?”

“I mean I wouldn’t mind sleeping with him either. But no, I’m not quite sure I see the issue.”

“The problem, aside from the fact that I couldn’t get it up to fuck Meg because I was too busy thinking about how much I’d like to fuck Dean, is that I want to do more than just fuck Dean.”

That caught Rowena’s attention and she set her cup of tea down, turning her body towards Cas to give him her full undivided attention. “Elaborate.”

“We’ve gone to the beach and hung at Swayze’s and we watch tv at each other’s places all the time and I want more. I want to take him out to dinner and learn more about him and ask all those stupid inane questions you ask someone when you’re getting to know them. I want to hold his hand and go grocery shopping together for fuck’s sake.”

“You want romance.”

Cas pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. “I want fucking romance.”

“How long’s it been since you’ve even felt like this? Because I remember Daphne but that was a decade ago.”

“That’s how long it’s been. It just didn’t end well and I’ve never really felt like I’ve wanted anything more but then walks in Dean fucking Winchester and now I’m dying. I don’t think I even remember how to be romantic and that doesn’t even matter because it would never work to begin with.”

Rowena knew the answer but asked her question anyway. “And why wouldn’t it work?”

“He’s straight. Straight as a fucking ruler. Also still getting over his ex which is a whole other mess.”

“I’m well aware of his ex.” Rowena replied, pausing to finish off her tea. “Are you looking for advice on this or is this strictly a vent?”

“Do you have advice for this?”

Rowena chuckled softly. “I’ve got advice for everything, Cas. Especially if it concerns a friend.”

“In that case, please.”

“Firstly, and this is completely speculative, but I don’t believe that man is entirely straight. Call it a hunch if you will. That being said, I don’t think you should be pushing anything. Take it slow and feel it out. You’re already friends and do things as friends so continue to do. Get to know him that way and see what happens. I can’t offer much advice in the way of continuing your hookups but I can offer you some herbs that might help with your issue.”

“No no, no herbs but thanks for offering.” Cas said, still embarrassed. He felt a little bit better after talking to Rowena but most of him was still beyond frustrated with the space Dean was taking up in his head. In an attempt to turn the conversation around, Cas changed the topic of conversation. “So, how’s your romantic life? Please tell me it’s better than mine.”

At that Rowena brightened up, unable to stop the smile from spreading on her face. “We’ve had opposite experiences with Dean and romance it seems. I have him to thank for the woman I’m seeing currently.”

“I didn’t know you were seeing someone, congrats.”

“It’s only been a few weeks but I really can’t complain. Dean gave me some very good insider information about the moondor campaign I’m involved in and it worked out in my favour. I believe I’ve heard the phrase ‘If the tent’s a rockin’, don’t come a knockin’,’ uttered unironically which would’ve been horrifying if it hadn’t been so incredibly endearing.”

“That sounds like some shit Dean would say.”

“Considering she’s Dean’s best friend. I hardly find that surprising.”

Cas raised an eyebrow. “He actually successfully set you two up?”

“What do you mean successfully?”

“I mean he said he was going to try to do it because he thought you two might work together but I didn’t think he’d actually be able to do it. I don’t know his friend but I know you and you didn’t strike me as being into nerds.”

“When they look as good in chainmail as she does, I certainly am. I’ll have to introduce you two whenever she comes to visit me, or you could just ask Dean for an introduction.”

Cas shrugged, figuring he’d meet the woman one way or another. He was thrilled for Rowena, really and truly, albeit a bit jealous of her luck when it came to finding someone successfully. Glancing up at the clock behind Rowena, Cas sighed. “I should get home before the kids destroy the place or each other. Congrats on the luck with the nerd, I hope it works out.”

“Good luck with Dean. I’m sure that that will work itself out eventually.”

“I hope so.” Cas mumbled, offering Rowena one more smile before he headed out and back home.

~

Dean and Charlie were in Dean’s kitchen at the end of their workday, hanging out under the guise of catching up and cooking a meal together. Charlie was situated at the kitchen table peeling and cubing potatoes while Dean cubed stewing beef at the kitchen counter.

“So, am I ever gonna get an update on your moondor weekend?” Dean asked, chucking the cubed beef into a large roasting pan. “Because I know my intel was good.”

“What makes you think there’s anything to update about?”

Dean chuckled, setting his knife down. “Your face is as red as your hair and speaking of hair, you just got it cut and the new style’s working for you by the way. Then there’s the short nails and I mean they’re always short but I can see the clear gloss on them because the knife made an indent. You only wear that if you’re getting laid. So spill.”

“Okay fine, your intel was good. Really good. Like incredibly good.”

“On a scale of one to ten?”

Charlie turned in her chair, potatoes forgotten in favour of chatting with Dean. “Dude, she did things with her tongue I didn’t even know were possible. And we were in a tent.”

“Out in public too, damn. Good for you!” Dean grinned, setting his own knife aside. “I’m gonna guess that you had every intention of leading the charge but she showed up, you got tongue tied, and then it was all over. Scottish accent made you weak in the knees huh?”

“Okay, what the actual fuck? I’m supposed to be the one out here that knows everything so what gives?”

“I set you two up, that’s what gives. I gave her advice on how to get to you and gave you advice on how to get to her because I had a sneaking suspicion that you two might work well together and seeing as how you’ve both lived here for forever and still haven’t met organically, I kind of assumed you both needed a bit of help. Well you, not so much her. Pretty sure Rowena could get whoever she wants whenever.”

“How in the hell did you find a queer woman before I did? You’ve only been here like four months.”

Dean gestured towards his kitchen window. “She’s a neighbour, introduced herself as a cougar the first time we met actually. Also the same person who helped me do the cord cutting so safe to say I highly approve. She’s really great.”

“Except I think I’m going to fuck it up.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, lips pursed together. He didn’t like the sound of that at all.

“We’ve spent time together four times, two of which were entirely in character for Moondor. Every time it’s been little bits of information and then sex and don’t get me wrong, I like the sex but we haven’t actually gotten to know each other in a capacity that doesn’t involve us sleeping together. What if we go to dinner or out for coffee or something and she decides she doesn’t like me?”

Dean thought for a moment before he turned away, grabbing two beers from the fridge. He popped the cap off one and handed it to Charlie, taking a seat next to her. “Why do you think she’s not gonna like you?”

“I do nerd shit, Dean. I larp and I game and I can name every single guest actor to ever appear in both old and new who and that’s not exactly the sexiest thing in the world. Don’t think the fact I dress exclusively in old ass jeans and graphic tees is the most appealing thing for a 33 year old woman either. Yeah I’ve got my own place and vehicle and a great job but that’s not enough to draw someone in and keep them. I mean you’ve seen how classy she is. Her type doesn’t exactly stay with mine long term.”

“She larps too Charles and she’s explicitly told me that nerds are her type so I think you’re pretty safe there but I get where you’re coming from with the other stuff, I really do. I’ve been thinking about trying to find my style and reinvent myself too. We’re both grown adults, it’s about time we do it. I’ve got a suggestion if you're game.”

“Yeah?”

“You and me go out together so we can reinvent together. I trust you to give me advice and I know I’ll give you advice. How about we make a whole day out of it on Saturday? It’ll be my treat.”

“Are you paying?”

Dean nodded his head, reaching for the potatoes to add them to the roasting pan. “Yeah, I’ll pay. Call it thanks for what you’re doing for me.”

Charlie began to speak but she was cut off by the sound of the door opening and closing and then a chorus of meows as Spork roused himself and rushed to the front door. There were a few thuds and some laughs and then Ben was making his way into the kitchen with Spork in his arms. He saw Dean and then turned, eyes landing on Charlie.

“Holy shit, you really look like your dad.” Charlie said, flabbergasted at their resemblance. “You poor thing.”

“I know. It’s probably why I have such a hard time finding a girlfriend.”

“Can you at least wait until I’m out of the room before you make fun of me?”

“That ruins all the fun.” Charlie grinned.

Ben nodded his head in agreement. He turned away to set Spork down before setting his bag down, fishing for his empty tupperwares to put them in the sink so he could wash them and make his lunch later. When that was done he finally took a good long look at the woman in the kitchen. She was Charlie, undoubtedly, and she was exactly what Ben expected. Red hair, graphic tee, infectious smile, all of it was her and Ben liked the vibe.

“You seem too cool to be friends with my dad.” He said, wanting to gauge her reaction and suss her out.

“Your first mistake is thinking I’m cool but you’re getting brownie points for that so keep going.” She replied. “You’re a lot taller than I remember, ‘course you were playing with a stuffed giraffe the last time I saw you in person.”

“I haven’t played with Mr. Biggles in over a decade. He’s sitting on my bed right now, Spork loves him.”

“That thing’s fucking creepy, of course the cat likes it.”

“Can we not swear around my kid?”

Charlie raised an eyebrow, simply staring at Dean. “Pot.”

Dean rolled his eyes but let it slide, muttering ‘kettle’ under his breath.

Ben watched the two of them interact with an intrigued expression. He’d never really seen his dad interact with a friend and seeing him interact with Charlie was like watching the world’s most awkward dance. They slipped past each other as Charlie manned the sink to do the dishes and Dean slid the pan into the oven to get the beef stew cooking.

“So Charlie, Dad tells me you do computer work which is kinda cool. Do you game?”

“That’s like asking a tiefling bard main if they’re queer. Obviously I game. What’s your poison?”

“One of the guys on the team told me I should check out Red Scare so I did but it’s kicking my ass.”

Charlie’s grin widened and she abandoned the dishes immediately, wiping her hands on the dish towel before turning on her heels. There was an excited and terrifying gleam in her eye. “I have so much to show you, young padawan. Show me your room.”

Ben glanced at Dean, still grinning. “Okay, she’s officially way cooler than you. See you at supper.” With that he grabbed Spork and took off, Charlie following behind him after she shot Dean an apologetic glance.

Charlie followed along and settled down on Ben’s bed next to him, excited to see the game. She hadn’t played in years but she knew it well and had beaten it on more than one occasion. As she waited for him to boot it up, she took a look around the room to try and get a feeling for her godson. It was a typical teenage boy’s room, nothing too special, save for the horrifying childhood toy the cat was currently attempting to tear to shreds and the old movie posters hanging on the walls.

“You really like old monster flicks. You know your Dad does too.”

Ben glanced up from his stack of games. “Does he really? I didn’t know that.”

“That’s cuz you don’t know him outside of his role as ‘Dad’.” She shrugged. “You can tell me whether or not he’s strict, what he’s like when he takes you to volleyball games, and what he’s like with the neighbours but I can tell you what he’s afraid of, what his most embarrassing memories are, and just about everything else you wanna know.”

“What’s he afraid of?”

“Aside from losing you, you’ve got two big ones: fire and rejection. Well I guess it’s more people leaving than rejection but I guess they’re kind of the same thing.”

Ben chewed on those words as he popped the game in the console and sat down next to Charlie, handing her a controller so they could play together. “I get the rejection, makes sense with all the egg donor bullshit. Not sure I get the fire.”

“That’s something you’ll have to ask him about yourself, not really my place. But it’s a family thing, I’ll tell you that much.” She shrugged. A change in topic seemed like a better idea so Charlie switched it up. “Your dad tells me you’ve got a crush on the neighbour girl. That must be exciting.”

Ben’s face flushed red ever so slightly and he shook his head. “Old news, not crushing anymore.”

“No? What changed?”

Ben turned his head, staring at Charlie with suspicion. He wasn’t sure why she was asking or what she knew. It was a little weird that this woman he barely knew was asking him all these questions but she was his dad’s best friend and she did seem cool. As if sensing his trepidation, she laughed.

“I’m not gonna narc on you to your dad, you can relax. I was a teenager with crushes too. Had a crush on your Dad for a bit.”

“Aren’t you a-“

“Lesbian, yeah. Your dad was nice enough to help me figure that out. So whatever you’ve got going on can’t be worse than that.”

Content with that answer, Ben decided to open up to Charlie. “So I did have a crush on the neighbour girl but she’s the one who helped me find my egg donor and caused all the problems so that complicated things. I mean she apologized and we fixed things but her sibling told me she’s a lesbian and has been in love with her best friend for years so I wouldn’t have a chance even if I tried. So I don’t see the point in trying and I don’t wanna keep the crush anymore.”

“Okay yeah, that’s a pretty good reason to not have a crush on someone. I’d tell you adult crushes get easier but then I’d be lying cuz they don’t. Now come on, let me show you how Red Scare works.”

For the better part of a half hour Charlie guided Ben through the beginning stage of Red Scare, getting him used to the controls and giving him strategies on how to conserve ammo and get the best kill shots for the soviet vampires. Ben was getting more and more into it as time passed and by the time they’d been playing for an hour, he was grinning and laughing like he had before the whole egg donor debacle had happened.

A knock at the door interrupted their fun, a very amused Dean leaning against the door frame. “If you two are done hooting and hollering, supper is ready.”

“Here comes the fun police, ruining everything. Whattya think Ben, should we let the gulag keeper decide his fate?”

“Spork, send him to the gulag.”

As if on command, Spork sprang from his spot on Ben’s pillow. He launched onto the floor and went for Dean’s feet, pawing at them and trying to bite at his toes. Dean stared at the cat and then at Charlie and Ben, his expression one of mild annoyance. “Supper is still ready if you’re done turning the cat into a communist.”

“I don’t think the cat can be a communist.” Ben replied as he slid off the bed, picking Spork up to save Dean’s socks.

“Yeah, Dean, you don’t know his political affiliation. Spork could be a socialist for all you know.”

“The cat doesn’t understand politics and even if he did, he causes too much chaos to either of those. Anarchist is more likely. Now hurry the fuck up so I don’t have to pull a cold war and threaten to nuke your food.”

Both Charlie and Ben shot Dean a look but followed his instructions, brushing past Dean to head downstairs and to the kitchen. The table had already been set and portions given out so they chose their seats and sat down while Spork took up residence in the fourth chair that remained empty. Typically apprehensive of his Dad trying new recipes, Ben was the first to dig in having seen Charlie directly helping Dean make the food. The stew was good, rich and flavourful and complimented by the creamy smush of the potatoes and carrots. It was the best thing his dad had ever made. Aside from the barbecue which he could never make wrong.

“So dad, I need new shoes for volleyball. The treads are completely gone on the ones I have now and it’s gonna be a problem for the home game we’ve got next Friday. Could we maybe go to the mall on Saturday and get me new shoes?”

“I mean as long as you’re cool with hanging out with Charlie, then sure. We were in the process of making plans for Saturday at the mall.”

“Think you can survive me in a mall? I’ll warn you I’m a force to be reckoned with in the hobby stores.”

“See you’re cool so it’s totally fine, I can deal. It’s not like Dad in the hardware store taking forty minutes trying to decide between pine and spruce. Like they’re both wood, just pick one.”

Dean bit back a retort, choosing to let it be. Keeping the peace kept his blood pressure low and his doctor happy. Besides, Ben and Charlie were getting along and no one had died or gotten hurt. That alone was a miracle.

“So, do I need to help with the dishes?” Ben asked when he’d finished his supper.

Dean thought for a moment before shaking his head. “No. you’re free tonight. Charlie’s free too. I’m sure you two want to get back to your game.”

“Just a couple hours, I won’t stay too long.” Charlie promised before she and Ben practically abandoned Dean, leaving him to clean up the kitchen alone. Even Spork, who had been silent throughout the meal, jumped off of the chair and followed them back up to Ben’s room.

“So why are you and my dad hanging out at the mall?” Ben asked as he and Charlie sat down on his bed, picking up the controllers to resume the game.

“Because I’m seeing a woman way out of my league and my usual wardrobe of graphic tees and skinny jeans from 2012 isn’t gonna cut it. She’s uh, she’s kind of a classy business dress at all times lady. Your father didn’t tell me that when he set us up.”

“Hold on a sec. Are you seeing Rowena?”

“Trying to. Why, you know something I don’t?”

Ben set his controller down, finding himself more interested in the conversation than the game. It was kind of cool to talk to someone else about their dating life and problems. Charlie’s problems were more interesting than his own or Dean’s. “Well I mean I’ve heard she’s done a lot and I’m not trying to judge or anything but isn’t that like a dealbreaker?”

“Woah okay, pump the breaks on that.” Charlie said, setting her controller down so she could turn and face Ben. “This should probably be a conversation with your Dad but I know him so maybe it’s better we do this. What we’re not gonna do is judge someone for the number of people they’ve slept with or dated or done anything with, ‘kay?”

Ben nodded his head, figuring it was better to listen.

“Experience, or the lack of it, doesn’t make us better or worse partners. It’s all compatibility and besides, it’s fun learning and experiencing stuff with new people.” Charlie said, pausing to think for a minute. “You’ve got no experience so you and the girlfriend or boyfriend you might eventually get will get to learn together just like Rowena and I might if I can get my shit together. No clue about your Dad though, he’s kind of the way he is.”

“He says he’s been seeing a blonde vet tech but he hasn’t told me her name or anything about her so part of me thinks he’s lying to just save face or something but I dunno. Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“He told me the other day that you’re going nuclear on the egg donor. What are you doing to her?”

“Making sure she’s not going to hurt you or your Dad ever again.” Charlie said honestly, running a hand through her hair. “Divorce aside, it’s all about leaking enough sketchy information to trigger alerts with institutions that’ll turn around and investigate. Planning on ruining her business for one, but also making sure the police and IRS are aware of some of the sketchy shit she’s done. I take my duties as godmother and best friend very seriously.”

“What’s gonna happen to her kid? Because he didn’t do anything and I don’t think he deserves to suffer because of what she did.”

Charlie frowned, lips pursed together tightly. “I don’t know kiddo. I can guess and my guess tells me he’ll live with her ex and that that’ll be the end of it but I’ve got nothing else. I’m sure with some therapy and some other stuff he’ll be fine but it’s not like we can predict it.”

Ben nodded his head, sitting in his silence as he chewed on that part of the conversation. He felt bad for his half-brother; what a strange thought that was, that he had a half-brother out there in the world who probably now knew he existed, and that that half-brother was experiencing the worst time in his life while Ben was going through a period of growth into what he hoped would be the best part of his life. He had friends and a dad and now a cool aunt and while it wasn’t perfect, it was his. Hopefully his half-brother would have that too.

“Have you met Dad’s new best friend yet?” He asked Charlie, shifting slightly as Spork crawled into his lap.

“Not yet. Why?”

“The dude is a little weird.”  Ben said honestly. “The vibes are just off and I feel a little insane trying to explain them to anyone else and it’s hard because my friends are his kids.”

“Okay well I sort of know what he does and a little about him but why are the vibes off? What do you see that your obviously clueless Dad doesn’t?”

“He’s so touchy.”

Charlie’s eyebrow nearly shot off of her face. Her posture changed too, shoulders shifting forward as she leaned closer to Ben. “Touchy how? Like ‘oh I’m so sorry you’re sad let me pat your shoulder touchy’ or?”

“Or, definitely or. Like they regularly hang out and watch tv on Fridays or go to the bar or whatever which is totally cool and I’m glad Dad has friends but I swear to God the neighbour’s hand like lingers on Dad’s shoulder or leg or wherever it is. I walked past them the one Friday they were here watching tv and I swear I almost saw the neighbour pull that cheesy yawn and arm wrap move. Like that’s not normal dude friend behaviour, right?”

“Not in my experience. How’s your Dad react to it?"

“I dunno, like a normal guy. Or he just doesn’t. I don’t really pay much attention to it, just thought it was a little weird.”

“Tell you what kiddo, I’ll see if I get some more info out of your Dad when we’re at the mall on the weekend. I’m pretty good at getting him to spill shit and he still feels like he owes me, even though he doesn’t, so I know he’s gonna spill. Think you can wait until then and let me report back?”

“Yeah I can wait. Thanks for investigating.”

 Charlie nodded her head and though for another moment before ultimately deciding the night had run its course. She got up from the bed and said her goodbyes to Ben and Spork before wandering downstairs to say her goodbye to Dean. Expecting him to be in the kitchen or the living room, she was surprised to find he wasn’t in the house at all. When she stepped out of the front door, that’s when she saw Dean.

His back was to her as he leaned against the fence, chatting with a man Charlie assumed was the hot neighbour she’d heard so much about. She couldn’t hear what they were saying but Dean seemed relaxed and then she saw what Ben was talking about when Dean laughed, the neighbour’s hand clapped firmly on his shoulder and lingering far longer than it needed to. It sparked her curiosity and she strolled over, clapping her hand on Dean’s free shoulder.

“Your cat’s a communist now so I think it’s my time to go.”

“See I’ve always thought he’d be an anarchist.” Cas chuckled, removing his hand from Dean’s shoulder before extending it. “You must be Charlie.”

“The one and only. Glad to hear Dean’s been spreading the gospel about me.” She chuckled, shaking his hand. Upon closer inspection, he was just as handsome as Dean had alluded to. While she didn’t love men, Charlie appreciated a handsome one and there was something very Grecian about Cas with his nose and strong jawline. The grey hair peeking from his temples would definitely be Dean’s thing too, Charlie thought with some amusement. “You must be the hot neighbour Dean’s been telling me about. It’s Cas, right?”

“Hot neighbour hmm, think I like the ring of that. But yeah, I’m Cas. I’ll let you two say your goodbyes. See you on Friday Dean.”

With that Cas wandered off and back into his house. Charlie waited until he left before she turned to Dean. “Dude, you didn’t tell me that he’s a straight up dilf!”

“What the fuck is a dilf?”

Charlie cocked her head to the side in disbelief. “Dad I’d like to fuck. Cas is a dilf, so you are for that matter. Totally different sub categories but still dilfy. He always that touchy?”

“What do you mean touchy?”

“Dude, he made you laugh and had his hand on your shoulder the entire time. Did you not notice that?”

Dean shrugged his shoulders. “Cas is always touchy, it’s just the way he is. I don’t mind, I think it’s kinda comforting. You and Ben get along?”

“Hell yeah we did, the kid’s cool as hell. A little rough around the edges but look who raised him.” Charlie teased, lightly punching Dean’s shoulder. “I gotta get going so I can actually get to bed at a decent hour and be productive for work tomorrow. I’ll meet you guys at the mall Saturday. Is 9 a good time?”

“Yeah, 9 works. See you then.”

Charlie nodded her head and then she was leaving, heading home. Dean stood in his front yard for a few minutes before he turned and headed inside, thoughts preoccupying his mind.

What was wrong with the way Cas was touchy and why was Charlie being so judgy about it?

The judgment made no sense and served only to annoy him as he got himself ready for bed. 

Chapter Text

“I work for the government and somehow this is scarier.”

Dean laughed from his position of leaning against the impala, Ben next to him texting someone on his phone. The pair had made it to the mall about five minutes ago and Dean had insisted on waiting outside for Charlie to not only save a text but to make sure she wouldn’t flee.

“What, are sales assistants with measuring tapes and the hope of commissions in their eyes too intimidating for you? Don’t you work with like incredibly sensitive data every day? Wouldn’t that be worse?”

“Sensitive data doesn’t tell me I have small tits and that fuschia would look good on me.”

“Fuschia would look horrible on you.” Ben interjected, shoving his phone in his pocket. “You gotta go blues and greens, maybe purple. Definitely not yellow.”

Dean raised an eyebrow as if to ask Ben how suddenly knew so much about fashion but Ben beat him to it. “I had a crush on a girl with red hair in sophomore year and she looked good in those colours. Don’t make it weird, Dad.”

“I wasn’t gonna make it weird, I was just wondering.” Dean mumbled. “Are you gonna stick with me and Charlie while we shop or are you gonna do the typical thing and abandon us?”

Ben turned to look at Charlie. “Do we trust him to make good fashion choices on your behalf?”

“Hell no. You’re sticking with us for a bit kiddo.”

“Well I don’t feel very appreciated now, thanks you two. Now Charles, what do you have in your wardrobe aside from jeans and tees? Like me tell me about your going out outfits and your business outfits and shit.”

Charlie sighed and with a tone caught somewhere between embarrassment and resignation she went through her wardrobe. There were a few ill-fitting blazers, two pairs of slacks beyond fraying at the hems, three dress shirts fallen victim, a misshapen skirt that Charlie was sure simply appeared in her closet one day, and possibly one pair of nylons. What she did have, aside from the disaster of the business wear, were a few capsule pieces. Most of them were long sleeves and turtlenecks but they fit well and were in decent condition. By the end of it, Dean was preparing a mental checklist and nodding along.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, Charles.” Dean said when she finished speaking. “Not everyone has business wear or knows how to dress like it. That shit’s complicated. Lord knows I don’t know how to dress like that 90% of the time and I sure as hell don’t own anything nice or business-y either. You’ve got some capsule stuff though so that’s workable.”

“What the fuck is capsule stuff?”

Ben piped up again. “Closet basics, staples, things you can pair with a lot of different outfits. Like black turtlenecks or white t-shirts or a nice pair of cargo pants or something. Claire was going on about them a few days ago but I was only half listening to what she was saying. It was something about corporate goth, whatever that is.”

“Okay seriously Dean, how the hell did you raise a cool kid? Because you’re not this cool.” Charlie teased.

Dean shrugged again, walking alongside the pair. The mall was filled with people from all walks of life, teens already laying claim to the food court while families with small kids took over the toy stores. It was the single individuals and the couples that caught Dean’s eyes most as they walked. They were in their own little worlds, living their own little lives, and no one else knew. Maybe they were divorcing or falling in love or had just been promoted. It was the not knowing and the connectedness of not knowing that was so fascinating.

Of course part of Dean wondered how others would perceive his ragtag group as they walked through the mall. Undoubtedly they would clue into the fact him and Ben were related because their similarity was undeniable. He and Ben were the spitting image of each other and Dean felt bad for the kid. Of course he knew he was a looker but still, no teenager liked being told like they looked like their parent. Especially not if they didn’t always get along.

It was the perception of where Charlie fit into things that gave Dean pause. Would people assume that she was just a family friend out shopping with the two of them or maybe a distant relative come in to see the offerings of Paradise Hills? Or would they see something more? Would they look at her and the way she was laughing and talking with him and Ben and assume that she was his girlfriend? It wouldn’t be so bad, the assumption they were dating, if they weren’t friends and she wasn’t gay. A lifetime ago Dean would’ve settled down with her if she’d asked but that was a lifetime ago.

What would have happened if he’d invited Cas along instead? People would see them and assume they were friends because logically that made the most sense but people in the town knew Cas and they knew what he was like. Would they see Dean and assume he and Cas were more than friends? That thought drove itself into Dean’s brain like a white hot poker, wedging there and refusing to leave.

“Don’t think too much, I can see the smoke coming out your ears Winchester.” Charlie teased as she clapped a hand on Dean’s shoulder, the movement bringing him back to his body. The group had stopped in front of their destination, a large department style store that offered the type of clothing Charlie was searching for.

“Wasn’t thinking, just musing. Two totally different things. Are you good cuz you look like you’re gonna vomit.”

“There’s a reason I don’t do business casual or dress my age and that’s because it’s fucking terrifying. Let’s just do this before I change my mind and back out.” Charlie mumbled before she stepped inside.

Ben and Dean hung back just long enough for Ben to make a comment to Dean. “Thank God you two have someone here who isn’t afraid of business casual or you’d crash and burn.”

When Dean and Ben caught up with Charlie in the maze of aisles, they found themselves amid the racks of long sleeves and blouses. Charlie was staring at them like a deer in headlights, running her fingers over all of the fabrics in a futile attempt to figure out if there were fabrics she immediately didn’t want to buy. Dean, who didn’t know much more than Charlie did, also looked clueless as he stared at the racks.

Ben took one look at them, sighed as if he were a cynical eighty-year old man, put his phone in his pocket, and cracked his knuckles. “Okay, you two don’t know what you’re doing so I’m taking over in the effort of saving time and a lot of headache. Aunt Charlie, I need you to tell me what general staples you have aside from the tees and skinny jeans and the gross pieces you never wear.”

Charlie nodded her head and outlined the pieces: two neutral turtlenecks, one white dress shirt, a pair of black slacks that fit alright, a few pairs of non-skinny jeans that were serviceable but probably near the end of their lives, a couple tanktops that could be layered to be businessy, and one blouse that she didn’t completely hate.

“Okay cool, so just some general stuff then. We know what to stay away from, colour speaking. Are you a pattern person?”

“If it’s fun and nerdy then yeah sure but I don’t like the basic zebra print Barbie heart crap.” Charlie said. “And I don’t live in plaid like your dad does.”

“I do not live in plaid.”

“You kind of do dad, that and band tees. It’s giving teenager in a really sad way.” Ben replied honestly, turning to face Dean. “You could probably do with getting some nice basics and a few nicer button ups while we’re here. Especially if you’re still serious about all the dating stuff. I really don’t think 30 year old women are gonna be impressed by the plaid if it’s all you wear.”

“Yes because the 15 year old knows so much about fashion and dating women.”

“The 15 year old has had two more girlfriends in the past 15 years than you have so yeah, I think he does. Anyways, we need to get picking so I’m putting a system in. Dad, you pick three, Aunt Charlie you pick three, and I’ll pick three. You both try on everything that’s picked and then we can figure out what we like and don’t like from there, sound good?”

With their orders from their new drill sergeant, the team set to work gathering all of their items. They ended up with nine shirts for both adults as well as nine bottoms and even a couple jackets for the pair. Not much was said as they found their selections and even less was said as they made their way to the dressing room, Dean and Charlie taking dressing rooms side by side. Ben sat in one of the available chairs and waited, the scrolling of Instagram interrupted by a sales associate stopping next to him.

“It’s so sweet of you to help your parents pick out clothes, not many kids would do that.” She said, trying to strike up a conversation.

“My dad’s clueless and my aunt’s just nervous, it’s not a big deal.” Ben shrugged, turning back to his phone. He wasn’t particularly interested in the sales associate or her conversation, not when he and Kaia were busy texting about the chem homework that neither of them could quite figure out.

Charlie was the first to step out of the dressing room and she looked incredibly nervous, running her hands downs her thighs to smooth the nonexistent wrinkles in her pants. The shirt she wore, an emerald green silk blouse paired nicely with a pair of chocolate brown tapered trousers. She glanced over at Ben. “What do you think?”

“Looks good, suits you.” Ben said honestly. “You don’t seem sure though. Why?”

“Woah Charles, you look like an adult. I would believe you work corporate.” Dean said as he stepped out of a dressing room, clapping a hand on her shoulder.

Charlie’s tight smile waned and then disappeared. “It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just that it’s-it’s too adult. The colour is nice and I like the way the pants fit but they’re too boring. There’s no sparkle or individuality to them.”

“Dude you cosplay, you can literally make it your own. Add some like mushroom embroidery on the slacks or gold little swirls on the shirt collar or little bead bits. Or get a nice black blazer and do bleach art on it.” Dean suggested. “Maybe think of the clothes less as you having to dress like an adult and corporate and more like a base for you to modify how you like.”

Charlie nodded her head, more comfortable with that idea. She took a good look at Dean after that, stepping back to take a look at him in the cable knit sweater. It wasn’t something she’d ever seen him in before but the jewel tone purple wool complimented him and she knew the tightness in his arm and chest would attract people.

“You look good in that sweater too, I’m sure a lot of people will really like that.”

“If you’re into the dad bod thing.” Ben mumbled under his breath, turning back to his phone.

With Ben’s little comment swept under the rug, the adults returned to trying on the remainder of their picks. It took some time and while there were opinions and comments exchanged in between, a lot of it felt a bit like a montage in an early 2000s movie that was both beloved and incredibly cheesy. When Dean had finished with his selections he stopped by Ben and Ben glanced up at him. “Hey, can I go get the shoes I need for volleyball? I’ve got my phone with me and I don’t think it’ll take that long.”

“Yeah kiddo, go for it. Charlie’s just about done but I had one more place I wanted to go with her that’s not a place you’ll wanna go so that actually works best for us. Meet at the food court for lunch, say 1?”

“Yeah, I can do 1. Thanks dad. See you later.”

Dean chuckled to himself as he watched Ben wander off, shaking his head. Apparently all it took to make Ben happy was the chance to buy new shoes for volleyball. He made himself comfortable in the chair that Ben had just vacated, waiting for Charlie to finish up with the final try on. Charlie, by that point, decided that she liked most of the pieces that had been picked out, particularly a purple blouse with an arcade print pattern on it, but it was the final shirt that gave her pause. She’d been completely okay for a while but something about the last shirt had hit her and she was staring at herself in the mirror, all wide eyes and trembling lips.

“You alive in there?” He asked, pausing by the curtain. “You’ve been in there a while and I know some of the shirts have been hideous but that blue one really didn’t look that bad.”

That snapped Charlie out of her stupor and she wiped at her eyes roughly to stop the tears from ever falling. She tried and failed to sound confident when she spoke. “Yeah, totally good. Just give me a sec.”

“I know that voice, you’re not good. Do you want me to come in?”

“Yeah.”

Dean waited for a moment before he stepped into the dressing room. Charlie was still in the navy blue blouse but Dean was more concerned about the fact that she looked like she had been about to cry. “What’s going on?” He asked gently, holding his arms open.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” She mumbled, stepping into Dean’s arms.

Dean wrapped his arms around her, hugging her. “About the clothes, the makeover, the dating, or life in general?”

“The makeover and dating and it’s stupid that I’m crying over this normal shit when you’ve totally just had your life ruined by like epic levels of emotional trauma. I really shouldn’t be crying to you.”

“You’re allowed to be emotional about shit too, you’re human.” He shrugged, letting go of her when she pulled away. “For the record, I think you look really good in that blouse and I think Rowena would too. Why’s this blouse setting you off?”

Charlie shook her head, turning her back to Dean so she could take the blouse off and put her t-shirt back on. They’d seen each other nearly naked countless times, and naked on a few occasions, so this was hardly surprising. “It’s not the blouse, it’s everything else. I should’ve been able to do the shopping for my crush and talking about my crush and doing the makeover for my crush with my mom and I never got to and I love you but you’re not my mom. No offence.”

“None taken. I don’t look very good in a dress.”

Charlie’s feelings made a lot of sense but that didn’t make Dean feel any better about them. Her parents had died when Charlie was 13 and Dean had watched it nearly destroy her. Of course Mary had taken her in and she’d become his sister alongside his best friend. But she’d never experienced the true feeling of telling her mom about her first crush or going shopping for a cute outfit to impress her or trying out new lip gloss or a new hairstyle. Dean had never really thought about how it might’ve hurt but clearly it did if it still hurt 20 years later.

“I can’t imagine what you must be feeling, missing her now. Are you gonna be okay?”

Charlie nodded her head, collecting the clothing and hangers in the dressing room. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just wasn’t expecting to miss her today, that’s all. But for the record, I think that photo of you in drag says that you do look good in a dress.” She said as she pulled the curtain aside, stepping out into the bright fluorescent lighting of the store.

“That photo is never seeing the light of day. I thought Rhonda had the only copy and I made her burn that but I should’ve known you’d get your hands on a copy somehow.” He said, trying to lighten the mood. He could see Charlie calming down and while he was still concerned, he was less concerned. She’d be alright by the end of their outing.

“Thanks for doing this with me, Dean. It’s probably not what you wanted to do with your Saturday but I really appreciate it. I need someone who’s gonna be honest about how I look in clothes. Especially if I’m trying to impress Rowena.”

“I feel like I’m probably not the best person to ask for dating advice but I don’t think Rowena’s as complicated as you’re making her. Sure she’s classy and a little scary but I really just think she likes having fun and indulging her whims and you’re fucking fun. You’re actually so much fucking fun.”

Charlie cracked a smile, shoulders relaxing slightly. “Thanks. Where’s Ben?”

“Getting new shoes. I also sent him away because we have one more stop that’s not age appropriate.”

“Dean Winchester, you are not doing what I think you’re doing.”

Dean grinned, walking back with Charlie to the register. When they’d paid for everything, navy blue blouse included, Dean spoke up again. “Considering we’re both in our mid-thirties and haven’t been married and probably never will, I am. If you’re getting laid at this dinner and you’ve got this new wardrobe, might as well have some lingerie to go with it.”

“Speak for yourself, I might still get married. I’m not gonna spend the rest of my life alone because I’m afraid of commitment.”

“I’m not afraid of commitment. I’ve committed to my kid for almost 16 years and to you for like 30 so…”

“Well we’re family so we don’t count.” She shot back. “How is the dating going anyway?”

“It’s fine, I guess. Haven’t really gone out that much because I’ve been busy with work and besides, Cas and I are hanging out and he’s kind of more fun than dates.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow, biting her tongue to stop an immediate comment. Luckily her comment died on her tongue when they reached their next stop and it was with great trepidation that she walked into the store with Dean.

Stores like this had always made her uncomfortable when she was a child. She’d have blamed it on her Christian upbringing except her parents brought her up as an atheist so the only thing she had to blame was the fluttering in her stomach every time she walked past a mannequin or an ad with a half-naked woman. Lesbianism; it really was the cause of everything. But her discomfort at being in a store like that was completely overridden by her curiosity at Dean’s comment.

“You and Cas have been hanging out a lot then, yeah?”

“What are you defining as a lot?” Dean asked as they moved towards a section with bras. He paused and held his hands up to his chest, cupping them and squeezing. “How big are your tits?”

“36B, sometimes 36C. And define it in terms of monthly hangouts here cuz you guys have been friends for the entire time you’ve been here, right?”

Dean nodded his head, rummaging through the bras. “We watch tv together every Friday night, go to Swayze’s every other Saturday, and sometimes do other stuff but not always. You got any hard nos for sexy bras?”

“Dean, do I look like the kind of woman that even owns a sexy bra? I’ve somehow convinced her to sleep with me three times in granny panties and that horrible beige bra that used to have polka dots but doesn’t anymore. I really don’t think the lingerie is necessary. Do you think all the time you spend with Cas is giving people the wrong idea?”

“Well it’s not necessary but it’s more of a nice thing to have to help boost the confidence. A boost for you and a nice surprise for her. You can go with whatever colour but I think black or like dark purple might look the best, maybe lacy.” He replied, holding one up that looked like it was held together by nothing more than strings. It was vetoed quickly. “And why would it give people the wrong idea? We’re literally just watching tv.”

“Dean, it’s two men spending more time a month together than normal male friends would do together. It’s the two of you spending time together watching tv in like an intimate setting. Plus Cas has a reputation and we all sorta know it.”

“Oh the whole playboy hookup thing, yeah I know about that. Saw one of them on his birthday, she was pretty but a little scary to be my type. Don’t really care about that and don’t really care about what other people think either. He’s a cool dude and I like hanging out with him. That’s all there needs to be.”

“If you say so.” She said, leaving the conversation at that. She had more than half a brain cell and was smart enough to pick up on the vibes that Dean was putting out and clearly couldn’t figure out himself. Years ago it would’ve been an amusing puzzle but now it was almost sad.

“Do you really think my style is that bad?” Dean asked suddenly, shaking his head when Charlie held up a potential bra. “Because you don’t like it and Ben doesn’t like it and it’s not that Cas doesn’t like it but he did make a comment about how it was a little outdated and he literally can’t judge because he dresses like a fucking hippie but still.”

“Your style’s a lot like your type, if I’m being honest. It’s not great but it’s not the worst, you just need to diversify a bit. Like that maroon number you got today. Roll that up to your elbows and that’ll catch people’s eyes.”

Dean nodded his head, eyes catching on a bra at the same time as Charlie’s.

“I think I can pull that one off.”

“And I think Rowena will definitely pull it off.”

“Guess that’s the one.” Charlie said as she reached for it, deciding at the last minute that she wanted a pair of matching panties. As she reached for them, she saw something out of the corner of her eye. Dean was staring at a pink pair near the top of the pile and she knew that stare of his well. It was the same stare he’d had before he and Lisa had dated and it had been the same stare he’d had when he’d wanted to get a tattoo but chickened out of it. Hell, it was the same stare he’d had when he’d agreed to be the Xena to Charlie’s Gabrielle at Comic con only to chicken out three days later.

“I know that look. What do you want that you’re going to repress?”

Dean glanced up at her, startled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said but his flushed face betrayed him.

“Liar. You want something, something sexy I’m guessing cuz of where we are, but you’re gonna be weird and repressive about it because that’s the way you are. So spill the beans, what do you want? And relax while you’re at it, it’s not like I’m gonna judge or tell anyone anything.”

“You remember Rhonda Hurley and the drag photo and the like three hours I disappeared that night?”

“I remember being real concerned you were gone until you showed up relaxed as hell. I assumed you’d just gotten laid. Why?” she asked, lowering her voice to keep their conversation as private as they could in a public space.

“She um, she convinced me to wear more than a dress that night.”

Charlie’s eyes flicked to the pair of pink satin panties in the pile and then back to Dean’s tomato red face.

“Yeah.” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I uh, I kind of liked it- like a lot. And because I’ve been dating again I’ve been thinking about maybe exploring some stuff but it’s really stupid and we really don’t need to be talking about this.”

“Why would you wanting to explore be stupid? It’s great.”

Dean swallowed thickly, almost surprised as he finally met Charlie’s gaze. He didn’t quite know what to do or what to say, still shocked he’d managed to get as far as he had with their conversation. Luckily for him, Charlie was more than happy to keep talking.

“You didn’t have time to explore earlier, not with raising Ben and all the other responsibilities but you’re stable now and doing well so fucking go for it. Buy the clothes you want and try the things you never let yourself try before and explore and figure out who you are. I’m not gonna judge you because you wanna wear pink satin panties. I think they’re cute so I say buy ‘em. Hell, put them in my bag so Ben doesn’t see them if you want, I don’t care.”

Dean nodded his head quickly, his smile grateful. In the end, Charlie left with her matching set and Dean with the pink satin panties he’d never show another soul.

~

Ben’s sense of freedom in the mall was a welcome one. It wasn’t that Dean and Charlie were horrible to be around, it was just that they were both trying to reinvent themselves and adult angst smelled a bit too much like a failing economy and receding hairlines for it to be good time. A teen alone in the mall was freedom and that freedom smelled a bit like greasy fries and bath and body works perfumes.

The shoe store was his goal and he found it with no trouble, making his way back to the men’s section so he could find the shoes that would work on the court. Tucked in the back corner was his prize and stood by the stacks, eyes scanning the sizes as he searched for the elevens. As he searched, he became aware of another boy around his age scanning the stacks too. It was only when they both reach for the same pair of shoes that Ben turned around to look at the boy.

He was fourteen or fifteen with sandy hair and blue eyes and there was something about him that was vaguely familiar. Ben felt like he’d seen the boy before but he couldn’t put his finger on it. The boy was staring at him in the same manner too, watching him as if he were a wild animal trapped in a cage.

“Do I know you?” Ben asked, breaking the silence.

The boy shook his head. “I don’t think so but you look really familiar. Maybe I’ve played against you? Do you play basketball?”

“Volleyball.”

The other boy frowned, chewing on his thoughts to try and figure out where he knew Ben from. It was only when an older man rounded the corner and stopped behind the boy that the realization struck Ben. He knew the man because he’d stared at his face in wedding photos for hours. Judging by the man’s expression, he recognized Ben too.

“Is your Dad around?” The man, Michael, asked. “I doubt he’d be comfortable with this.”

“He’s somewhere with my aunt, not sure where. Don’t think he’d like this either, not that he needs to know. It’s uh, it’s cool to meet you in person I guess.”

The boy stood in between, confusion on his face as he glanced up at Michael. “Do you wanna fill me in on what’s happening here, Dad? Because you clearly know this kid and I don’t.”

“Adam, this is Ben, your half-brother. Ben, this is Adam.”

The boys stared at each other and Ben wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. He was tense, shoulders hunched and hands nearly clenched with anxiety. Was this going to be another epic public confrontation like he’d had with his egg donor? Or was this going to be something else? Would he be yelled at or swung at or some weird secret third thing that left him feeling just a gross and shameful as the others would’ve?

“I’m really sorry she fucked off and left you and your Dad, that’s fucked.” Adam said finally. “If it makes you feel any better, she was kind of always a shitty Mom so you didn’t really miss much. She’s gone with the divorce now anyway.”

“Is your Dad at least decent?”

“I mean he’s a fourty year old man so he’s fine, not cool but can’t really complain.” Adam shrugged. “He seems happier now that Mom’s gone so thanks for that I guess. Though maybe that was more your Dad’s doing than yours. I dunno. Either way, thanks.”

“Yeah, no uh, no problem.” Ben mumbled. He could hardly believe what he was hearing from Adam. The boy, his half-brother, which was just a weird thought on its own, wasn’t even angry, In fact he seemed relieved. His family had been destroyed and he was thanking Ben and Dean for it. It was ass backwards and confusing but so was everything else in life so it fit right in.

“So you do volleyball then, that’s pretty cool. Sports are fun. Are you on insta or snap or anything? Might be kind of cool to keep in touch? I don’t exactly trust my Dad to keep in touch with yours.”

“Ditto. My Dad’s got no clue how to work a phone. It’s actually kind of sad.” Ben chuckled, trading phones with Adam so they could add each other on their social medias. It felt a little odd to be doing it at all, let alone in the middle of a shoe store, but Ben had learned to stop questioning everything at this point. Life was handing him a half-brother who seemed somewhat decent and he wasn’t going to ignore him.

Adam took his phone back when they were done before he grabbed a pair of the shoes. “Well thanks. Cool meeting you, maybe I’ll see you around sometime.”

“Yeah see you around.”

Ben grabbed his shoes once Adam and Michael left the store and then he left in a daze, making his way down to the food court. He shook off the daze as he drew closer, deciding he didn’t want to share what had just happened with his dad. That was a conversation for when they were home and not in public, just in case his dad decided he wanted to get upset about what had happened. Besides, only God knew what his dad and his aunt had talked about while he was gone so there was no telling what mood they were in.

As it turned out, they were in a fantastic mood when he got to the table, sitting and laughing and joking with their food. They welcomed him in with open arms and a tray of mall food court fast food, quickly roping him into a conversation he only half understood. Such was the way the three of them were and none of them would have it any other way.

~

The only word that could describe Rowena’s kitchen was eclectic. Black cabinets painted with galaxies and cosmos matched the round table painted with the faces of the sun and the moon while the all black appliances went alone with the scheme, tied together by the silvery tile and dark grout.

Rowena was hunched over the stove, stirring a pot of thick burgundy sauce. “How come the tatties?”

“Almost done. Don’t you normally put rutabaga in these?” Cas asked from his position behind her, bent over her counter as he mashed the potatoes.

“Normally it’s tatties and neeps but I don’t think she’s the kind of woman who likes rutabaga and I’m not trying to scare her off. I’d much rather she stay.”

“Aiming for a sleepover then, that’s respectable. This is what, date five?”

Rowena shrugged her shoulders, slipping past Cas with the saucepan so she could reach the waiting meat. “Technically the first two dates were larping and the third and fourth were less dates and more hookups so I suppose is the first proper sit down date. I’d just like it to go well. I’ve never met a woman quite like her, she intrigues me.”

“Oh I’ve met her, she told me she turned Dean’s cat into a communist.” Cas chuckled, setting the dish of potatoes on the table. “I don’t know much aside from what Dean’s told me about her but he raves about her like she’s hung the moon so I think you should be fine. We’ll see if she can escape the jeans and the graphic tees.”

Rowena paused, arms crossed across her chest and eyebrow raised. “Was that judgment I sense, Castiel?”

“A little bit, yeah.” He admitted sheepishly.

“Well go ahead, explain. We’ve got time and now I’m curious.”

“I’m sure she’s a great person with a great personality but aesthetics wise, I’m just a little surprised you’re attracted to her, that’s all. You’re always so done up with your gowns and outfits and makeup and according to Dean, she’s lived in graphic tees and jeans for the last like 30 years. It just seems so out of left field.”

Rowena’s neutral expression cracked and then she laughed, a short amused sound as she rested her chin on her hand. “I’m sensing just a wee bit of projection.”

“I’m not projecting.”

“Well, you’re suddenly finding yourself attracted to the Dad next door in a way that transcends the usual hookup boundary you’ve created for yourself so naturally it makes sense you’d be surprised and uncomfortable at the change and project that onto me given how you perceive my romantic entanglement. Rest assured Castiel, I find Charlie alluring for far more than the way she dresses. As for you and your entanglement, for what it’s worth I suspect Dean is finding himself in a similar situation.”

Alarm spiked through Cas, a sharp fleeting pain in his chest. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Your alarm tells both of us you know exactly what I mean so tell me, is there anything between you two?”

“I don’t know Ro, I mean-maybe, there could be. We’re friends and do friend things but sometimes the way he looks at me or the way he touches me just doesn’t feel like something a friend would do.”

Rowena’s satisfied expression said all it needed to. Her thoughts and Cas’ were both out in the open now and only time would tell what would actually come of it. What she did do however, was gesture towards the door. “I appreciate your help with the meal but I need you to leave now because she should be here soon and three’s a crowd when one of them is a lesbian.”

“Yeah yeah, good luck and have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.” Cas chuckled as he turned and left her place. He made it about halfway down her small driveway before he ran into Charlie, nearly stopping in his tracks when he saw her.

She was still in jeans but they were a different cut, high waisted but loose on her legs. Painter’s jeans if Cas had to guess. Her shirt was different too, not a graphic too but an arcade print blouse that actually suited her. It was so different, so unexpected, that Cas actually stopped to say something.

“Hey, nice outfit. Rowena’s really going to like that.”

Charlie smiled warmly. “Thanks, Dean helped me pick it out actually. Figured I should probably try to look nice if dinner’s involved.”

An awkward silence settled between the pair after that. Cas knew he should turn and leave, letting Charlie get to Rowena, but he so desperately wanted to ask her a question about Dean. On the other hand Charlie knew she should just get to dinner but she wanted to talk to Cas, to suss him out and offer him some perspective. In the end, she spoke.

“Hey, Cas,” She said almost hesitantly, “just be careful with Dean’s heart, okay? When he loves he loves hard.”

Cas stood there as the pit in his stomach opened wide, threatening to swallow him whole. Rowena and the neighbours knew about how he felt and now Dean’s best friend knew so apparently he wasn’t as subtle as he was hoping to be. The wording didn’t feel like a threat or warning so much as a piece of advice that he wasn’t sure what to do with.

“I- uh, thanks. I will, be careful I mean.” He settled on finally.

Charlie nodded her head, taking a few steps towards Rowena’s before pausing again and turning back around. “He’s also the least self-aware person I’ve ever met so you’re gonna have to be patient. Sorry.”

“Noted.”

With that Charlie turned to knock on Rowena’s door and Cas, burdened with new information that did not help to make his feelings or situation any clearer, headed home.

Chapter Text

Ben woke up to a face full of calico fur, spluttering and grunting in annoyance as he grabbed Spork and pulled him off of his face. Spork squirmed and complained but settled down on the pillow beside Ben, watching him as he so often did. He rolled and reached for his phone, checking his messages as he always did first thing in the morning.

“Guess I’m popular this morning.” Ben mumbled to himself, scrolling through all of the birthday messages with a smile on his face. All of his friends, old and new, had remembered and he was enjoying it. There were no texts from the Novaks or Kaia but he knew he’d be seeing them later so he really didn’t mind all that much.

Pulling himself from bed, Ben picked up Spork and began his journey downstairs. It was the first birthday he’d ever had where the big Lisa secret wasn’t hanging over his head and he was excited to see just what that meant. Dean was in the kitchen when Ben entered and he glanced up, smiling.

“Morning kiddo, happy birthday. I’ve got breakfast on the table and lunch for the get together is ordered along with your cake. You sure you’re still okay with just the Novaks, Kaia, and Charlie coming over and then grandma for supper?”

“Yeah, definitely still down for that.” Ben replied, setting Spork down and sliding into his chair. He offered Spork the sacrificial piece of bacon to keep him quiet and pacified before eating his breakfast. As he ate, he took a good look at Dean.

In the past Dean often spent Ben’s birthday sad or angry, dressed in sweats or a hoodie. In truth he never seemed to care much about himself and always seemed to over focus on his son. But this year was different. This year Dean had cleaned up, freshly shaven with cargo pants and a long sleeve.

“You’re wearing one of your new shirts.” Ben noted, pausing to take a sip of his juice. “No yearly Ben’s birthday crashout planned?”

“Not unless someone drops an emotional nuke on me. I gotta run out to grab lunch and your cake at 11, are you gonna be good with everyone else here?”

“Aunt Charlie’s mostly an adult, we’ll be fine. Are you still okay with taking me to get my learner’s tomorrow? I know we kinda talked about it but I don’t think we ever fully planned for it and I kind of want it.”

Dean waved his hand as if to dismiss Ben’s concern. “Already booked in for 1 tomorrow so you’re good to go. Now you should probably get dressed before everyone gets here so they don’t see the pajama pants unless that’s the look you’re going for.”

Ben nodded his head and when he passed the sink on his way to the stairs, he dropped his dirty plate in. Dean watched him leave before cleaning up the dishes and the kitchen, making his way to the living room. He’d decorated already, some streamers and balloons hanging up in places Spork couldn’t get to. It wasn’t a lot but it was enough and he didn’t really think Ben would mind.

Charlie was the first to arrive and she showed up with a present and a batch of cupcakes, setting the cupcakes in the kitchen before she hugged Dean. “Hey look at you all cleaned up for Ben’s birthday, must be a special day. Where is my favourite birthday boy?”

“Upstairs getting dressed.” Dean replied, hugging back. “You got dressed up too, love to see the not skinny jeans. You have to tell me all about dinner before everyone else gets here. I’ve been dying to know.”

Charlie practically beamed but held her hand up to tell Dean to wait. She ran to set Ben’s present in the living room before returning to the kitchen, leaning against the counter. The grin was still plastered on her face. “It was incredible, she’s incredible. She made I think the best potatoes I’ve ever had in my life but like she’s so funny and smart, like the things she knows and understands about herbs and energies and old religions is insane. I swear I could listen to her talk forever.”

“Sounds like it went really well, that’s great. Are you going to see her again?”

“Duh. I slept over last night so that’s why the hair’s a bit of a mess.”

Dean nodded again, chuckling to himself. He was relieved that the dinner had gone well and that they were going to see each other again. Of course he’d known that would be the outcome but Charlie had still been nervous and, like a shaking Chihuahua, she was incredibly difficult to reassure when she got something stuck in her head. Of course part of him was jealous too but he pushed that part down, deciding it was better to keep it buried.

“Aunt Charlie, hey! Glad you made it!” Ben called as he came bounding down the stairs, all smiles and excitement now that he was awake, fed, and people were starting to show up.

Charlie smiled and wrapped her arms around Ben in a quick hug. “Well I wasn’t gonna miss my favourite comrade’s birthday. That would just be horrible. I brought some stuff if you and your friends wanna do something later.”

“Better not be drugs.” Dean mumbled, though he knew it wasn’t.

“Oh it’s so much worse than drugs, dude. It’s DnD.”

Dean sighed in acceptance, rubbing at his temples. “Please don’t indoctrinate the children.”

“Birthday boy wants to be indoctrinated so sorry dad, you lose.” Ben laughed before he followed Charlie to the living room, intent on learning the ways of DnD.

There was a knock at the door about 15 minutes later and Dean opened it to find the Novaks and Kaia. He opened it and stepped aside to let them, door closing behind them. While he had no issues with most of them being there, he was still wary of Claire and they both knew it. As she stepped over the threshold and kicked her shoes off she stopped and gave Dean a look that told him she was there in peace and didn’t plan on starting any shit.

“Ben’s in the living room if you three want to find him. Him and his aunt are doing something DnD related so uh, you might get roped into that. So heads up I guess.”

“Can we put the presents there too?” Kaia asked, holding up a gift bag. “I kinda don’t want to hold this anymore.”

Dean nodded his head. “Yeah, you can stick presents in there too. Just watch out for the cat, he will bite your ankles because he’s an asshole. Also a communist but that’s a whole other thing. Lunch’s at noon so don’t fill up too much on snacks.”

“We won’t. Thanks for having us over!” Jack said before they turned on their heels and ushered the group into the living room, conversation growing louder when they met up with Charlie and Ben.

Cas hung back with Dean, shaking his head in amusement. “I really love the whole communist cat schtick I’m not going to lie. Thanks for having us over, I know how you feel about certain members of my family.”

“I’m over the beef with Claire, mostly, so don’t worry about it. We talked out our issues. How’s she doing after all the therapy sessions?”

“Better, more stable at the very least. She doesn’t tell me too much and I don’t really ask but I haven’t noticed anything insane.” Cas shrugged. “It’s one of those time will tell things I suppose. How are you doing today? I remember you saying Ben’s birthday has always been a bit of a hard day for you.”

“I’m good actually. Woke up feeling a bit upset but today’s about him and everything he’s doing and not anyone else so it’s not like I need to be upset. He’s a great kid and I’m happy he’s mine.” Dean said honestly, pausing to glance at his watch. “That being said, I gotta run to grab lunch and the cake. Please go supervise all the kids so that Charlie doesn’t teach them like tax fraud or something.”

“I highly doubt she’d teach them tax fraud.”

“Just go sit and watch, you’ll see.” Dean chuckled before turning and heading out the door.

Cas watched him leave and then made his way to the living room, taking up residence in the one chair that wasn’t occupied by a body. Charlie sat in the other chair, a large book on her lap and a cat resting above her head while the kids sat on either side of the coffee table. Each had sheets of paper in front of them as well as what looked like several sets of dice and Cas raised an eyebrow. Charlie met his gaze and hers was surprisingly level headed, as if she were assessing an enemy. Cas felt a chill run through him.

“You ever play DnD Cas?”

“Can’t say that I have. The pretend world’s not really my thing. I take it you’ve got them making characters?”

“Of course I do. You want to join?”

Cas shrugged but decided it would be fun and nodded his head, accepting a character sheet and some dice from her. There was a brief explanation but he wasn’t paying too much attention, kind of doing his own thing. What he was paying attention to, however, was what the kids were asking Charlie.

“So theoretically, if I wanted to make a barbarian that was actually a goose that was cursed to be a human because they pissed off the wrong God, could I do? Like how would I do that?”

Charlie turned to Kaia, clearly intrigued. “Okay, cool idea and totally doable. Scoot over and I’ll show you how to do this.”

It was then that Charlie began to explain how to build the characters and how the modifiers and dice rolls worked. While complicated, the kids seemed to get into it. Jack took to it like a duck to water and Ben seemed to find it interesting enough. Claire and Kaia had a bit of a harder time with it and spent most of it working together. They were going over the final details when Dean returned with the food and Cas excused himself to help Dean set it up in the kitchen.

“I don’t know where you found Charlie but the kid’s love her. Claire’s asking her all kinds of questions about I don’t even know what at this point.” Cas said, reaching for a bag so he could help unpack. “From what I’ve heard, Rowena’s pretty fond of her too so she’s doing something right.”

“Yeah Charlie was saying their dinner date went really well is good, she was really nervous about it. Not that I blame her, dinner dates are kind of the worst.”

“Really? You’re going with dinner dates as the worst? That’s surprising.”

“And what do you think’s the worst then?” Dean asked, pulling the plastic lid off of the cake before reaching for a knife to cut it.

“Movie theatre dates, easy.”

“Dinner dates are nothing but conversation and also eating in front of people, not to mention the cost if it’s a nice place. Also the whole dressing up thing. Like I’m sorry but I don’t want to be eating my steak in front of a person I barely know whose open-mouth chewing their green beans going on about their nine to five office admin job. None of that even touches on the button ups you’re forced to wear that are just so uncomfortable. Movie dates are easy in comparison.”

“Movie dates are for the weak.” Cas shot back, crumpling up the takeout bags to put in the garbage. “You sit beside a stranger you don’t know for like three hours to watch a movie that’s probably shitty and then you talk for like ten minutes and then you leave. Like at that point I’d rather just hook up. At least with dinner I get to know the person, no matter how banal.”

“Guess I’m never taking you to see a movie in theatres then.” Dean said before excusing himself and poking his head into the living room. “Lunch and cake are ready.”

Dean pressed himself against the counter next to Cas to avoid the stampede of teenagers and Charlie as they came into the kitchen in search of food. Ben and Kaia were busy trading ideas for their characters, Ben gesturing wildly as he explained the way he wanted to lay out his character’s stats. Claire and Jack were arguing about their character designs, Claire attempting to explain why it made sense that her character was seven feet tall with arms like tree trunks.

Charlie grabbed her lunch but hung back by Cas and Dean. “You know, you two have pretty cool kids. I know Kaia’s not your kid, Cas, but she’s cool too. I think I can convince them to start a oneshot after the gifts, just to see if they like the game mechanics.”

“I’m surprised Claire seems so into it, I won’t lie. It doesn’t exactly seem like her kind of game.”

Charlie nodded her head. “I think she likes the character creation aspect of it, that and the fanart capacity. But I gotta ask, what is up with her and Kaia? Because dear God I haven’t seen looks like that since Kirk and Spock.”

“Mutual but unrequited teenage love, been like that for years. It’s a bit unfortunate but we all think they’re at least a little bit aware of it.” Cas explained, stealing a quick glance at the kids and then at Dean before looking back at Charlie. Her advice was still echoing in his head and the more he thought about it, the more it drove him insane.

“Well as the resident lesbian I’ll nudge the best I can. Speaking of lesbians, Dean, Ro’s got something for Ben for his birthday. Would it be cool if she stopped by to drop it off?”

“Sure, I don’t see why not. Might as well make today a little more chaotic.”

Charlie grinned, thrilled with the result.

Once the mob had descended upon the takeout and cake, Dean and Cas finally took their portions and made their way into the living room where everyone else was already eating. There were no seats so Dean ended up on the arm of a couch and Cas on the arm of a chair next to the couch, both elbowed in the thighs by their kids trying to eat their lunch. They ate and talked and then it was time for gifts, Ben insisting that no one had to get him anything but he was grateful that they did regardless.

From the Novaks came a signed and framed poster for Reanimator, one of Ben’s all-time favourite movies and he was so immediately excited he very nearly abandoned the party to go hang it in his room. It was only when he remembered there were other people there that he felt his face flush and he remained sitting, setting the present aside. From Kaia came a framed poster full of human anatomy and some questionable jokes that no one else in the room except the two of them understood. That earned her a hug and several thank yous.

Ben made sure to tuck everything carefully away to the side so that Spork wouldn’t be able to get at it and, satisfied with his efforts to protect it, managed to convince his friends and Charlie that it was time to go back to their DnD scheming. That meant Cas and Dean retreated to the peace and quiet of the kitchen where Dean turned and rummaged around in the fridge, head poking out over the door. “Want a beer?”

“I’d love a beer, thanks.”

Pulling two from the fridge, Dean popped the cap off and handed it to Cas who took a grateful swig. “You know, this so beats the last birthday party I had for Ben.”

“Yeah? How bad was the last one?”

“He was seven and it was at a bowling alley with nine kids. One of them insulted my fucking handwriting right to my face and like I know it’s not the prettiest but come on, that’s a little low for a seven year old. Thank fuck Ben stopped being friends with that kid cuz his parents were trust fund assholes I couldn’t stand.”

“I mean I think your handwriting’s charming for what it’s worth but if it helps, some kid lost their tooth in the cake at the kids’ ninth birthday. Like fully lost it in the icing. Claire found it and sobbed for like half an hour. So you had asshole parents and I had a mildly traumatic experience.” Cas chuckled. “How much do you want to bet Charlie slept over at Rowena’s?”

Dean debated making a bet with Cas knowing he would win but somehow the insider information felt wrong so he decided against it. Even if he hadn’t, the front door was opening and Rowena was strolling in. She made a beeline for the first two people she saw, appearing in the kitchen with a gift bag and a grin. “Hello boys.”

“Rowena, welcome.” Dean replied with a smile. “Thanks for swinging by and thanks for the gift, I’m sure Ben’ll appreciate it. Did you want to give it to him now?”

“No, no, he can just open it whenever. Wouldn’t want to put any pressure on the boy. Besides, teen girl parties are more my forte.”

“Is there often a market for witchy teen girl parties?” Cas asked.

“Well Sabrina jokes aside, surprisingly yes there is. More often than not we’ll do custom crystal candles, tea leaf readings, and every once in a while something with natural beauty supplies and herbal remedies. They’re quite sweet, for the most part.”

“Well that’s kind of cool, I won’t lie. Pretty decent business model.” Dean hummed. “Speaking of candles and mood lighting and dinners, how’d it go with Charlie?”

“Well a woman should never kiss and tell but we certainly did a lot of both. Which one of you do I have to thank for that little lacy purple duo?”

Dean raised his beer, taking a sip. “Glad you liked them. She didn’t think she could pull them off.”

“She really didn’t have to worry because I pulled it off for her.”

“That’s exactly what I told her would happen.” Dean chuckled, relaxing further. “She wanted a wardrobe update to kind of just revamp her style and be more adult but also she really wanted to make sure you’d be cool with the way she looked. Of course I told her that she’s great and that I really don’t think you cared that much about how she dressed but that’s kind of one of those hear it from the horse’s mouth things. So I guess she heard it from the horse’s mouth.”

“That she did. I believe I told her it’s more about personality than clothing and that quite frankly I’d probably still be attracted to her if she wore a garbage bag.”

Both Dean and Cas chuckled at that. The atmosphere in the kitchen was relaxed, far less chaotic than the DnD oneshot occurring in the living room. Music played in the background while Charlie’s voice describing a forest scene echoed faintly. Dean shifted against the counter, searching for conversation topics in his head.

“We went to the mall together to pick out some of the new pieces for her. I actually got some new stuff too, thought it might time for a change. The lumberjack thing, while I love it, was getting a bit old.”

“I thought those pants were new.” Cas said, setting his beer down. “They’re a good choice, really form fitting. Lots of pockets too.”

Rowena held back a laugh at Cas’ comment, the knowledge of the weight behind it infinitely amusing. Form fitting, he had said, form fitting and perfectly tight around Dean’s ass is what he really meant. “If you two’ll excuse me, I think I’m going to check on Charlie and the kids. You two have fun.” She said before excusing herself from the kitchen to check out the living room.

“I can fit an entire can of coke in the front pocket, it’s fantastic.” Dean said, turning back to Cas once Rowena left. He seemed genuinely excited about the pants which Cas found oddly endearing. “And there’s enough room for my engraving kit and I could probably fit a small dremmel in the loops. So functional but stylish, that’s the vibe. Tried to do the same with the shirt but obviously there’s no pockets. Feel the material, what do you think about it? Cuz I’m a little on the fence.”

Cas hesitated for the slightest of moments before he reached out to brush his fingers along the material of Dean’s sleeve. The material was soft, undoubtedly moisture absorbent, but Cas was too busy pretending he couldn’t feel the bulk of muscle underneath Dean’s skin to notice much about the fabric itself. It was a completely innocuous touch and Cas hated that it was affecting him the way it was. A simple arm brush shouldn’t have put his stomach in knots the way it was.

A jolt shot its way through Dean when he felt Cas’ hand brush his arm and the familiar feeling returned to his stomach, the same warm floating feeling he’d felt at the bar and when he’d been on the porch smoking with Cas. He’d been drunk the first time and the high the second but this time he was half a beer in and not even buzzed so it didn’t make sense. Brushing the feeling aside was the easiest thing to do so that’s what he did, attributing it to being worried about what Cas would think.

“It’s soft, I see why you might like it.” Cas said, hand lingering on Dean’s arm. “Could get a little warm in the summer though. Might be better for the cold months.”

Dean nodded his head, pulling his arm away from Cas. As he did, the glint of something moving caught his eye. Dean reached for it without really thinking, catching the charm on the necklace in-between his thumb and pointer finger. The charm was silver and had three heads, a human in the middle with what looked like a zebra and a ram on either side. Wings surrounded them all, intricately detailed. Hung on a simple leather cord, Dean found himself enraptured by how beautiful and out of left field the jewelry was.

“Dean?”

Cas’ voice broke the spell and Dean glanced up at him, alarmed to see a flush on Cas’ cheeks and something akin to being flustered in his eyes. It was then Dean felt his face grow hot and he let go of the necklace, watching it drop and settle on Cas’ neck as he stepped back. “I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to get all up in your business like that. I just haven’t seen you wear a necklace before and it looks like it was professionally made. It’s just, whoever cast it really knew what they were doing.”

“It’s totally fine, I just wasn’t expecting you in my space all of a sudden.” Cas mumbled, still beet red. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Charlie approach the kitchen, take one look at what was going on, and immediately turn the other way. He breathed a sigh of relief and willed his face to return to a normal shade. “And it is new. It was a gift from a client.”

“You take gifts from clients often? Thought there was a rule against that or something.”

“Typically I wouldn’t but this was a long-time client. We helped them get into transitional housing first and then we helped them get a job. They actually just got their first apartment and wanted to say thanks. I wasn’t about to refuse.”

Dean nodded his head, picking his beer back up. It made sense and the gesture was sweet.

As the pair chatted in the kitchen and Charlie took her break to finish plotting the Dnd oneshot she had roped the kids into, the kids had split into two groups and were having side conversations. Ben and Kaia were on the floor over by the bookshelf, Spork stretched out on the floor in between them demanding attention.

“So, have you had any luck with Claire yet?” Ben asked, attention focused on petting Spork.

Kaia sighed, a brutal sound of hopelessness and exasperation. “Jack cracked then. Wondered when they would.”

“In their defence they only spilled because I asked if Claire was available and then they felt like they had to tell me the whole thing but don’t worry, that crush is long gone so no competition from me.”

“Yeah well she’s not interested so I don’t think it’s gonna go anywhere anyway. Like I went on a date with a different girl and Max is cool and all but I kept thinking about Claire the whole time and it really sucked. I thought she might’ve been jealous cuz of the way she acted when I left to go on the date but she hasn’t said or done anything since so I don’t know.”

“Well Jack says she’s into you and I think she’s into you too. I just think she’s scared or doesn’t really get it or know what’s happening cuz of the whole identity crisis thing.” Ben shrugged. “You could always just ask her how she feels. Or kiss her. You’ve got options.”

“Except if I do either of things and she doesn’t feel the same then I lose my best friend and I really don’t want to risk that.”

Ben sat back in thought for a moment, wracking his brain for what he knew about Claire and Kaia and their relationship. “Okay, you two have been friends for years and apparently your friendship survived both the 'Alex incident’ and my ‘egg donor incident’ so I feel like not shared feelings are not as bad as that. But they’re not unreciprocated, that’s the thing. I swear to God that they’re reciprocated.”

“Do you swear enough to wingman for me then?” Kaia asked, suddenly dead serious. “Cuz this is high stakes my guy.”

“Halloween. I will wingman for you at the Halloween party. That fair?”

Kaia nodded her head, sealing the deal.

As her and Ben plotted for the Halloween party, Claire and Jack were having their own conversation over on the couch. Jack was half reading through the various lore books Charlie had brought along with her while Claire sat on the other half of the couch, pencil and paper in hand as she worked on a detailed sketch of her own character.

“Hey, are you in a helpful mood?” She asked Jack, setting her pencil and paper down.

Jack looked up and upon seeing her setting everything down, set their book down. This was serious business and they were curious. “I could be. Why? What do you need?”

“Do you remember that conversation we had with dad on his birthday about me and Kaia when you kind of lost your cool and yelled at me?”

“I remember telling you what was right in front of your eyes, yeah. Why?”

“Well I’ve been talking with Dr.Vallens about a lot of stuff and I kind of feel better, more stable I guess, and one of the big things we talked about is me and Kaia and uh you and dad are right. I like her, like more than a friend like her. I don’t get it or understand it because I’ve literally never felt like this before and I know you don’t ever feel like this so I don’t know how helpful you’re gonna be but help me, please. Help me tell her.”

Jack nodded their head. “Well thanks for telling me I’m right, I love hearing that. Why not just pull her aside today and tell her? You know she feels the same so it’s not like you’re gonna get rejected.”

“Are you fucking nuts dude? I am not that brave.” Claire mumbled. “There is no universe where I do this without the influence of some illegal drug at a sketchy party of event like some shitty teen movie.”

“Okay so uh, Halloween then. You get drunk on Halloween and tell her, that’s the option if you wanna go your way.”

Claire nodded her head, smile returning to her face. “See this is the collaborative thinking that we really need to have more. But yeah, I like that plan and it will be helped by my Halloween costume that I don’t think dad will approve of but will not be able to stop me from wearing so that’s on him. Will you wingman for me?”

“Only because I really don’t want to see you crash and burn.”

“And that,” Claire said as she leaned across the couch to hug Jack, “Is why you’re my favourite sibling.”

“I’m your only sibling.”

Claire shrugged when she let go, attention caught when Charlie returned to the room to begin the oneshot once more. The oneshot which Charlie had promised would only take a couple hours, turned into four and by the time Mary showed up for supper the group was just wrapping up. She made herself at home in the kitchen with Dean while the Novaks and the rest of the guests cleaned up and filtered out, thanking Dean for the food and the afternoon.

“So,” Mary ask as the guests left, “How was the first birthday with no secrets?”

Dean, staring into the living room at Ben who was laughing as he waved around a piece of tissue paper which Spork followed and pounced on, smiled as he answered. “It’s everything I hoped it would be.”

Chapter Text

The Winchester kitchen table was littered with pumpkin guts and candy, two bowls in the center as Dean scooped the remainder of the insides out of the final pumpkin. “Do you remember the rules for tonight?”

Ben sat across from Dean, perched on one of the kitchen chairs as he finished carving a ghoulish face into the first pumpkin Dean had cleaned. The slime on his hands was beginning to congeal and the knife was slippery so he was paying more attention to it than his father. Thankfully the smell of pumpkin proved effective in warding off the orange demon who had decided perching in the front window to watch the costumed trick or treaters walking the streets was more fun.

“Yeah I remember the rules. Don’t take drinks from people I don’t know, if I leave a drink it’s not my drink anymore, don’t mix my alcohols, drink from a can only unless I see it being made. I’m not an idiot Dad.”

“I know you’re not an idiot, I just want you to be safe.” Dean sighed, punctuating the sigh with a wet schlop of pumpkin guts. “You don’t think the same when you’re drunk and as a responsible parent I really shouldn’t be letting you drink at all but I know you’re going to do it anyways so you might as well be safe. Tell me when you’re supposed to stop drinking.”

“When my limbs start to feel heavy or tingly or I stand up and I feel weird. You do realize I’ve drank before, right?”

Dean sighed again, setting the serrated spoon down. “I assumed but wasn’t totally sure. Just remember that I’ll be up and I will give all you guys a ride home tonight no matter the time, okay? So call me when you guys want to go home.”

“Thanks dad, seriously. Now am I good to go or do you need to grill me on how to have a safe hookup if I find a cute girl?”

Dean raised an eyebrow and began to speak but Ben was already out of his chair and heading towards the front door, grabbing his jacket. “I was kidding. See you later, love you!” he said before he closed the door and slipped out.

Mini heart attack avoided, Dean returned to carving his jack o lantern. Ben made his way over to the Novaks and slipped in, heading upstairs and following the sound of music. Both Jack and Claire were in Claire’s room getting ready when Ben wandered in. Claire was sitting on her bed fiddling with the zipper of her leather jacket but she smiled when she saw Ben.

“Hey, nice reanimator costume!” She said before pulling her arms back to show Ben her costume. “Whattya think, do I make a good Tiffany Valentine?”

Ben’s eyes flitted from her makeup to the short hem of her dress to the low cut of the neckline and then back to her face, expression slightly flustered. “Definitely gonna get a lot of attention from the guys, that’s for sure. But I like it, it’s kind of fun in an edgy but popular way.”

“You’re nicer than I was. I told her everyone would be staring at her chest.” Jack said as they turned around, having finished their makeup. They were dressed as Austin powers, complete with velour tracksuit and glasses and Ben nodded his head in approval.

“Cool costume, very traditional Halloween. Any clue what time Kaia’s getting here? Cuz she is our ride. Also I know she said she’s not drinking tonight but if she does and it gets sketchy, my Dad said he’d pick us up at any time so we’ve got a guaranteed ride back regardless.”

Claire’s phone buzzed and she glanced at it before shoving it into the pocket of her jacket. “She’s here now so let’s go.”

With that the group left the house and piled into Kaia’s car, Claire in the front seat as always. Kaia, who was dressed as Michael Jackson in the thriller music video. When they were on the road, she spoke. “We all know the ground rules about everything right? I don’t care what you guys get up to but you start feeling weird or upset or if anything goes wrong you come find me, okay? I’m not drinking so I will be making smart decisions and I reserve the right to drag all of your asses out of there if you’re being awful.”

“Well I don’t think any of us are planning on being stupid so you should be fine but noted.” Ben said, stretching out in the backseat. “How do you guys do parties here? Like is this more of a house party or a bush party or what?”

“Big house party. You’ve met Lucas, yeah?”

“Swim team captain, yeah we’ve met.”

“It’s his parent’s place. They let him throw a huge party every year, they’re pretty chill with everything. Cops know about it too but they let it go, something about political influence but honestly I don’t really care. We’re about an hour late so should be going pretty good by the time we get there.”

“Cool, can’t wait.”

The party was in full swing by the time the group arrived, music blasting and lights flashing into the darkness as Kaia pulled up and parked on the grass. People spilled out of the large house and onto the lawn, dancing and talking in groups without a care in the world. Ben seemed ready as he stepped onto the grass, immediately pulling out and cracking open a cooler from the bag he’d brought with him. He offered one to the Novaks, Claire accepting gratefully while Jack declined.

“Hey don’t look so nervous, you’ll be fine.” Kaia reassured as she stepped closer to Claire, hand on her shoulder. “You look great so now it’s time to go in, have fun, and feel great too.”

“You say that like it’s easy.”

“Cuz it is. Just let loose a bit.” Kaia grinned before letting go of Claire’s shoulder and making her way into the house, Ben falling in line behind her.

Jack stayed behind with Claire, shaking their head sympathetically. “You’re gonna need to drink a lot more if you even want to think about kissing her.”

“This is nothing like this teen rom coms and I hate it. Why is this so hard?”

“Because you’re all talk and Kaia’s just afraid she’ll fuck things up. Want me to talk to Ben? I can get him to talk to Kaia and we can like coordinate something.”

“No. I am not coordinating my first kiss like it’s some fucking meeting with HR. I’m just gonna drink and go for it. Now come on, I need to get in there and get immersed.”

Jack sighed deeply and prepared themselves for a night of looking after Claire before following her into the house and the heart of the party.

The wall of heat in the house was intense, the bodies pressed together in just about every room moving and swaying with the beat. Smoke snaked about the floor and added a haze to the house that stung Claire’s eyes but she did her best to ignore it, trying to find a free space where she could down the cooler Ben gave her. It was some kind of fruity vodka drink and while it wasn’t great, it would get the job done. In the end she found a spot near the kitchen and Jack stood next to her.

“Hey Jack, long time no see! Cool costume!” Came the voice of someone Jack knew as they made their way over.

The duo, dressed as Frankenstein’s monster and his bride, stopped by Claire and Jack. The bride looked familiar and it was with a sour tinge that Claire realized it was Max, the girl Kaia had gone on a date with a few weeks back. The jealousy curdled and rose in her throat but she swallowed it down, choosing instead to be friendly. It was what she was working on after all.

“How’d you get your hair to do that? It’s like defying gravity.” Claire said, sipping at her drink.

“It’s 95% hairspray but also there’s a full litre pepsi bottle in there.” She said, reaching up to part her hair to show Claire the bottle. “I like your hair too, the teasing is very fun. You come here with Kaia?”

“A group of us came together and she’s one of them so yeah, I guess. Why, did you want to talk to her?”

Max shook her head, pausing to take a sip of her beer. “I wanted to talk to you actually. About her. Can we go somewhere quieter?”

Claire hesitated for a moment before nodding, breaking off from Jack who was busy talking with Max’s friend. Her and Max wove through the crowds of people and ended up on the back porch which was much quieter due to the cloud of weed smoke that was ever persistent. Claire coughed when she first entered the cloud but eventually grew used to it, the burn from the smoke replaced with a nervous anxiety that did not sit well with the anxiety in her stomach.

“So you’ve been friends with Kaia for forever and you know we went on a date the other day. The date didn’t go well and I just- I wanna know if you know why it got fucked up.”

Claire swallowed thickly, staring down at her drink. “Did you do anything weird or is this like purely a vibes thing?”

“Vibes. Like she’s cool and I like her and I thought it went super well but it also just felt weird. I dunno, it just felt like she was distracted or thinking about someone else the whole time and like I totally get that but it would be nice if she’d told me if I was a rebound date.”

“It can’t be a rebound if you’ve never dated the person.” Claire mumbled before tipping the drink and downing the rest of it quickly.

Max looked at her, confused.

“Kaia’s in love with her best friend and thinks her best friend doesn’t feel the same way and it’s complicated except it really isn’t.” Claire explained. “That’s kind of my fault, so I’m really sorry about that.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. If it helps, I was really jealous you two went on a date.”

Max nodded before downing the rest of her beer. “I wondered what was going on with you two when you interrupted us. Guess that makes sense. Anything happen yet?”

“Nope.”

“That’s surprising, Kaia’s usually pretty forward.” Max said, turning away to retrieve another drink from her bag. She pulled out two and offered one to Claire who accepted it gratefully, taking several long sips.

“I’m the problem in this situation. Nerves aside, I just don’t know how to make a move.”

“You’re probably overthinking it by trying to make it some big gesture when it really doesn’t have to be. Honestly it’s probably better if it isn’t. If it were me I’d just find her and kiss her. Wouldn’t bother with all the other shit.”

Claire turned her head, expression showing she thought Max was insane. While she was all for kissing Kaia, the thought of simply going up and doing it was entirely too much to comprehend. Big grand gestures with lots of moving parts and steps meant she could focus on every other detail which would make the kiss much less complicated in the long run. It was about balance in the end.

“If I drink more than maybe but I’m not drunk enough for that.”

“So drink up.” Max said, cheersing Claire before turning back to her drink.

Ben and Kaia had ended up somewhere in the living room where there was a very intense game of King’s Cup going and Ben was in the middle of a round. He’d had a drink and a half and was beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol, the buzz loosening his worries and floating his fears away. The crowd cheered when he flipped the final king card and Ben groaned before he downed the cup in the middle, very nearly vomiting at the mix of alcohol.

There was a strong pair of hands on his arm after that as Kaia helped him to his feet, holding back a laugh. “You look like you’re feeling pretty good right now. I think you might feel even better outside for a few minutes.”

“You are so incredibly strong, holy shit.” Ben mumbled, hand patting Kaia’s arm as he let her march the pair of them out the front door. “I think I’d have a crush on you if you weren’t gay. I had a crush on Claire a while ago.”

“Join the club.” Kaia mumbled miserably.

“Go find her, dude. Seriously, don’t spend the night hanging out with me. Jack and I are trying to figure out how the fuck to get you two together and neither of you are helping us.”

Kaia raised an eyebrow, curious. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. Claire wants to make a move but has this like weird obsession with grand romantic gestures or something and you’re normally so down for moves but you’re wigged out and it isn’t helping. You two really just need to talk, well- more like make out but whatever.”

“And you’re telling me this now because?”

“Because my limbs are tingly, the room is spinning, and I’ve been eyefucking a really cute brunette for the last like fourty minutes that I’d really like to go makeout with. So uh can you get your shit together so I can get a little because it’s been a while.”

Kaia sighed, more exasperated than anything else, before reaching into her pocket. She fished around for a bit before removing a condom and placing it in Ben’s hand. “I’m gonna go find the Novaks. Don’t be an idiot.”

She left Ben before he could respond, making her way back inside. She had no idea where either of the Novaks were and knew she had her work cut out for her. The kitchen was the first place she checked and while she didn’t find either of them there, she did snag a cookie to keep any future hanger at bay. The living room was similarly unhelpful and she knew neither of them would be upstairs. That was apparently more Ben’s scene. She found Jack on the staircase, deep in a conversation about some old book she knew nothing about.

“Hey, Jack,” she said, interrupting the conversation as she sat down beside them, “You seen Claire?”

Jack glanced over, surprised to see Kaia. “Not for a while, why?”

“Well Ben’s gone upstairs with some brunette and you’re chatting and I think maybe tonight’s the night that I tell her. Maybe the drinks she’s had will make it go better, I don’t know. Do you know where she is?”

“Her and Max went somewhere to talk. Outside maybe?”

“Oh god okay thanks. See you later.” Kaia said hurriedly, getting to her feet and making as quick a beeline for the back porch as possible.

The cloud of weed smoke was still there and Kaia cringed when it hit her in the face. It burned her eyes and nose and she coughed, taking a minute to try and fan it away from her face. If there was one thing she hated, it was the smell and taste of weed. With the back porch mostly empty, thanks to the smokers who had decided that hot-boxing the shed was a better idea, Kaia could finally see Claire.

Her and Max were tucked away in the corner, busy talking about something she couldn’t quite hear. Between the pair of them there were about six cans and Kaia was more alarmed than anything. She’d seen Claire drink and after a drink and a half she was already tipsy so that pile alone meant there was no telling what she was like. Luckily for Kaia Max noticed her and slipped away from Claire, stopping by her.

“Good luck.” She said, patting Kaia on the shoulder before disappearing into the house.

Kaia took a deep breath to calm her nerves before she made her way over to Claire, standing next to her and leaning against the railing. “Thought you didn’t like Max.”

Claire turned her head and smiled brightly at Kaia, face flushed from the alcohol. It was the most relaxed she’d looked in months. “Max is cool, we’re cool. Where’ve you been?”

“Just hanging out with Ben but he saw a cute brunette so I wasn’t gonna stand in the way of that.” She shrugged, pausing to move an empty can off of the railing. “You look like you’re having a good time. You and Max have a good chat?”

Claire nodded her head and pushed off of the railing, action and alcohol combining to give her one hell of a head rush. With the dizziness she stumbled forward into Kaia, reaching out for purchase. A hand landed on her shoulder which turned into an arm wound around her neck and her other hand landed somewhere on Kaia’s torso, trapped between their bodies.

“You are so solid.” Claire murmured, blinking up at Kaia. “Pretty too, even as Michael Jackson.”

Kaia, used to Claire being near her, was a little too distracted by exactly where Claire’s hand was trapped between their bodies. “Thanks, I think. We should sit down.”

“Your heart’s beating really fast.” Claire murmured, moving her trapped hand up. Kaia’s heart beat faster. “Are you nervous?”

“Your hand is on my tit.”

Claire blinked again but didn’t move her hand. While it hadn’t been intentional, it was an opening and she was drunk enough she wanted to take it. Fuck the consequences, tiptoeing just wasn’t fun anymore.

“We like each other so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Kaia’s heart raced faster, eyes flicking down to Claire’s lips and then back to her face. “You’re drunk, do you even know what you’re saying?”

“I know exactly what I’m saying.” Claire replied, freeing her trapped hand and bringing it up to rest on the side of Kaia’s face. “I’m saying drunk me and sober me feel the same way about you.”

“I really don’t want our first kiss to be when you’re drunk.” Kaia mumbled under her breath, still staring at Claire. “Because I’ve been waiting a really long time for this and it cannot just be a one off fluke.”

“Okay, this one is just practice then. Kiss me tomorrow when I’m hungover, that’ll be our first real kiss.”

The flawed logic earned Claire a grin and against her better judgment, Kaia went for it. She leaned down as Claire leaned up and the pair kissed.

~

Dean’s Halloween plans were the same every year: stay in to watch horror movies and hand put candy if kids actually came to do his door. Ben was long past trick or treating so he was out of the house for parties or events and as much as he loved his son, Dean loved the peace. There was something comforting and relaxing about sitting down on the couch with a bowl of candy in comfy clothes to watch Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff haunt the silver screen.

The knock on his door, while not unexpected, was irritating and Dean sighed as he paused the movie. “I’ll be back for you Bela.” He mumbled to the tv before scooping up the half empty candy dish, making his way to the front door. Expecting a little girl in a princess outfit or some boy dressed as ghostface, Dean was surprised to see neither of those options.

Cas stood there, more covered than Dean had ever seen him before. Dean barely had enough time to take in the layers before he was listening to Cas speak. “What, no costume? I’m disappointed in you, Dean.”

“I didn’t have time, sorry.” He shrugged. “Thought Halloween was s’posed to be sexy for adults so why the fuck do you have like three layers on?”

“Constantine has a trench coat, I don’t make the rules. Besides, all the layers create antici….”

A silence stretched between them as Cas slid past Dean into his house, Dean closing the door and punctuating it with a mildly amused “pation.”

Cas grinned at him, pleased he understood the reference. “Kinda sad you’re all alone in the house not even in the costume and I’m sure you’re saying 'but Cas you’re also alone in your house but you’re in a costume and that’s somehow sadder' but it isn’t because I’m on my way to Swayze’s and you’re coming with me.”

“Dude, I told the kids I’d pick them up from the party if their dd fails so not sure I want to brave a bar tonight. That’s asking to get a drink spilled on me. And I’m not doing a bar sober. Think you’re on your own for this one. Also I don’t have a costume.”

“This is the one night a year aside form maybe new years that grown adults are allowed to be drunk and have fun, come on you have to come. Not saying you need to get shit faced but like a drink or two, just enough for a buzz. We both know Swayze’s is fun.”

Dean sighed as he set the candy bowl down on the bottom stair, mulling over Cas’ words. Swayze’s did sound more fun than being home alone but it was too many people and he didn’t want to get shit faced and yeah Benny made strong drinks but would a few be enough to get him in the right mood for having fun? Plus the whole costume thing, that kind of complicated it slightly. “Say I did agree to go with you, you do realize I can’t be out until like 2 right?”

“Dean, I’m a 37 year old man so there’s no way I’ll be out that late either. What I’m proposing is that we go, have a few drinks and some fun, and then go home. Just make an appearance and support our friends’ bar, that’s all. Besides, it’s been like three weeks since you’ve gone out out with me so it’s about time.”

“We leave at midnight. I still want to watch a movie or two before the kids might call because I know it’ll be after one if they do call.”

Cas thought for a moment, chewing his cupid’s bow as he did. “We go to the bar and have a few drinks and some fun but we leave at midnight and come back here to watch a movie together. I think that’s a fair compromise.”

“Okay good, glad we agree on that. Small issue though, I still don’t have a costume.”

Cas’ lips curled up into a familiar mischievous grin, sharp canines out once more. He looked at Dean and then at and up the stairs. “You’ve got a bedroom and clothes. Give me five minutes and I’ll get you a costume worthy of a lay.”

“Up the stairs and first door on the left. Do your worst, or best I guess. Do whatever you’re gonna do.”

Cas’ grin widened and then he was heading up the stairs with Dean following close behind him. It occurred to him only after he’d let Cas into his bedroom that he was the first adult aside from family who’d seen the room in the last sixteen years. Of course Claire had seen it but she wasn’t an adult and it hadn’t exactly been consensual so it didn’t count. Dean found himself anxious suddenly, sticking to the doorway to avoid Cas.

“Do you wanna tell me what you’re looking for? I could probably tell you where everything is.” He suggested, heart leaping into his throat when Cas got a little too close to his sock drawer.

That caught Cas’ attention and he turned, still grinning. It was clear from his relaxed demeanour that he’d had a few drinks already. “Why, afraid I’ll find something you don’t want me to see?”

“No,” Dean lied, “I’m just particular about how I fold things and don’t want them messed up.”

“You’re no fun. But flannels are in the closet, I’m assuming. Where would I find jeans? Preferably non paint stained, maybe straight leg but tight would work too.”

“Straight legs are hung up in the closet next to the flannels, can’t miss ‘em. Do I wanna know what you’re going for?”

Cas shrugged and moved towards the closet, opening the doors. He rifled through Dean’s flannels before choosing a hunter green flannel and a pair of dark jeans, crouching down to pull a pair of boots from the hidden corners of the closet. It was then that Dean clued into what Cas was doing and cursed internally.

Of course he’d pick the cowboy route. This was revenge for making him sit through Tombstone and The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly in one sitting. What Dean hadn’t told Cas but Cas had clearly picked up on was his love for cowboys and something about Cas taking the time to pick out the costume of a cowboy for him had Dean’s stomach doing those ridiculous little flips again. It was beginning to feel like a medical problem.

“I see the vision.” Dean said, kicking off his pants and pulling on the jeans while Cas was distracted in his search for a hat. “The hat’s in the top left corner of the closet, it’ll be on the shelf there. Might be on top of a holiday Barbie.”

That gave Cas pause and he turned around, too thrown to notice Dean was shirtless and pulling the flannel on. “Why in God’s name do you have a holiday Barbie?”

“That is a very long and complicated story involving Sam, identical wrapping paper, financial issues, and theft under 5000. It’s also his Christmas gift this year but anyways.”

Satisfied with the answer, Cas returned to searching for the hat. When it was in his possession he returned to Dean and placed it on top of his head before stepping back, satisfaction morphing into a frown. He stood there for a minute or two before stepping closer, hands deftly unbuttoning every button save for the final button. Without so much as a second thought he tucked the flannel into Dean’s jeans, only realizing what he was doing when he felt Dean staring at him.

Dean didn’t know what to do or think as he stared at Cas. This was a new experience for him, a man unbuttoning his shirt and then tucking it into his pants. It didn’t feel as invasive as he imagined it would, probably because it was Cas, but he knew it didn’t feel the same as if Charlie had done it. Had she done it he wouldn’t have batted an eye but Cas wasn’t Charlie and now his stomach was part of an acrobat show it seemed, a show that brought alarm to his face.

“Fuck sorry, totally should’ve asked first.” Cas mumbled apologetically, retracing his hands as if he’d been scalded by hot water. “I was just imagining sluttier in my head and I didn’t know if you’d get that and I wasn’t thinking and…’

“Dude, it’s fine. You’ve clearly had a few drinks, no biggie.” Dean replied, trying to keep his voice calm so it didn’t betray the pitter patter of his internal organs. “I know Halloween is slutty but do we really think I need to do slutty cowboy? Isn’t that a bit tired?”

“Hey, you’re the one who’s been complaining about the lack of dates and not getting laid. If you want to get laid, you’ve got to embrace the fact you’re a dilf.”

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. “Now you sound like Charlie with all the dilf shit. I’ll leave the outfit the way it is because I trust you except I’m rolling the sleeves up because there’s no fucking way I’m letting some twenty-something spill their drink on my sleeve and then suffer for three hours because of it. I’m not playing fast and loose with laundry possibilities like you are.”

“Fast and loose is how I like it. Now come on cowboy, we’ve got a bar to hit.”

Dean nearly choked on his saliva but simply followed Cas, making sure to turn off the lights and the tv and lock the front door before they left. The night air was chilly but it was a welcome respite from the heat that hadn’t left his face since Cas had knocked on his door twenty minutes ago. Something about the man that night was different and Dean didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was the alcohol loosening his tongue or the costume or something else entirely. Either way it was startling and confusing and Dean didn’t understand why he didn’t entirely hate it. He stole a glance at Cas they walked, eyes scanning the beige trench coat. It suited him in a roundabout way, made him look serious without being too scary.

“Hey, are you good?” Cas asked when they reached the bar. “Been a while since you’ve talked. I don’t wanna make you do this if you don’t want to.”

“I’m good, just psyching myself up. I bitch about dates and getting laid but it’s all a little terrifying and I don’t think I can be smooth sober.”

At that Cas reached into one of the pockets of his jacket and pulled out two shots of fireball, twisting the caps off before handing one to Dean. “A little liquid courage before we get a full drink in you then. But relax, you’ve got this. Just be yourself and you’ll be totally fine.”

“Here’s to hoping.” Dean mumbled before clinking the plastic bottle against Cas’ and downing the shot. It burned the back of his throat and he scrunched his face in response but recovered quickly before following Cas into the bar.

There was hardly enough room to move the bar was so crowded, people spilling over into every section of the bar. The pool tables and most of the normal tables had been cleared away for the night to make room for the influx of people but even with that effort, it still felt close to capacity. That being said, there was something different in the energy of the crowd at the bar and Dean picked up on it almost immediately. Sure people were drunk and dancing and probably secretly assholes but it didn’t feel oppressive or judgmental. There weren’t immediately men dancing too close to women or packs of people off to one side scouting out others with a predatory eye, not that he suspected Benny or Lee would ever put up with that.

Speaking of Benny and Lee, both of them and a third bartender were stood behind the bar that night. All three moved at a frantic pace as they worked to make drinks for the patrons that seemed to come in well-coordinated waves. Despite the waves, Dean didn’t see any of them yelling that their drinks weren’t coming fast enough and that surprised him. There was patience and understanding. Benny noticed them first, nodding his head up at them. “Whattya want?”

“Rum and Coke.” Dean said, Cas holding his hand up to make that two. Benny nodded again and slipped away to make their drinks.

With their position against the bar for now, Dean took his chance to look out at the dance floor. He couldn’t make out much through the crow but he could see a few people dancing on the edge of the crowd, eyes drawn to a pair of girls dressed as Eric Draven and Pinhead danced together. Across from them Luffy and Frankenfurter very nearly made out on the dance floor, earning them an eyebrow raise.

“Gonna need a lot more alcohol to enjoy this.” Dean said as he leaned in to talk to Cas. “I cannot dance sober.”

Cas shrugged his shoulders, eyes scanning the crowd. He knew the crowd well, knew the makeup of them, and suspected Dean had yet to figure it out. Part of him felt bad for taking Dean to a gay bar but it was a painfully obvious gay bar so it was really the other man’s fault for not figuring that out yet. But he’d figure it out pretty quickly if the eyes Cas was seeing were any indication. “How long’s it been since you’ve danced with someone?”

“A while.”

“So sixteen years.”

“I didn’t say that.” Dean said, though the way he pounded back the rum and coke and immediately asked for a second confirmed it. “I don’t even know how to be attractive enough to dance anymore so don’t let me hold you back.”

“I’d offer my excellent teaching services but I know that’s not your thing so a bar fly I’ll be.”

Dean frowned slightly, glancing down at his second rum and coke. Cas hanging back with him was appreciated but he knew his friend and he knew he was itching to get out there. He chewed on his lip before taking a sip of his drink, leaning back in to talk to Cas. “Tell you what, you go out and dance and I’ll find you when I’ve got a buzz going. That seem fair?”

“You sure?”

Dean nodded.

Cas leaned up to speak to him again, hand not on his shoulder but on his bicep this time. His hand was warm and Dean felt a mild tingle spread through him. “See you soon cowboy.” Cas said before he let go and turned, vanishing into the crowd like a ghost.

From his vantage point at the end of the bar, Dean people watched for the first time in years. He watched the twenty somethings in groups dancing with their friends as if they didn’t have a care in the world, saw the middle agers hanging around the fringes moreso shuffling and swaying than dancing, and in a sweet moment, noticed an older couple attempting to dance to what he imagined must sound like hell to their ears. It seemed like everyone was having a good time, like everyone was partnering up and pairing off and part of him was jealous. The jealousy was quickly swept away by disappointment when he polished off his second drink.

It was then the disappointment was replaced by the feeling of something cold, wet, and sticky. Splashing on his chest, the drink dripped own his bare skin and soaked into the edges of his flannel and the waistline of his jeans. Instinctively Dean grunted, trying to take a step back which resulted in the edge of the bar jamming into his lower back.

“For fuck’s sake.” He muttered to himself, irate as he looked up to see who had spilled the drink on him.

The man was short and in a costume Dean didn’t recognize until he turned around but he was handsome and more importantly, he looked and sounded incredibly apologetic. “Oh my god, I am so sorry. I totally didn’t see you and absolutely just made myself look like an idiot. Can I buy you a drink and make up for this?”

“Sure. Rum and coke.” Dean replied, making himself comfortable at the bar’s edge. Cas was already gone and off dancing and he was already at the bar he didn’t really want to be at in a costume he was still on the fence about so a free drink was the exact thing to cheer him up.

The man ordered their drinks before taking up a seat beside Dean, adjusting the ties of his Dracula cape. It was an ill-fitting cheesy costume but Dean liked it, thought it was sweet. Certainly a breath of fresh air from all of the mostly naked patrons, himself included. “I’m Aaron.” The guy said, introducing himself as he handed Dean his drink. “Nice costume by the way.”

“Thanks. It’s a bit much for me but hey, when in Rome. And I’m Dean.”

Aaron raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “A bit much? I mean I’m all for showing skin but short of assless chaps not sure there’s less you could be wearing but hey I’m not complaining. Sure half the bar isn’t.”

Something about that sentence pinged a warning alert in Dean’s brain. It was just a little bit off but he couldn’t quite place why. He wasn’t uncomfortable because of it, just unsure. He took a tentative sip of drink to try and collect his thoughts.

“I don’t do the whole sexy costume, not my thing. I’m more of a Halloween purist I guess. Like your costume, love how realistic your costume is.” He said, reaching out to toy with the medallion that hung around Aaron’s throat. Had he not been two and a half drinks in and pleasantly buzzed, part of him might’ve thought that that was a little too personal but for now he didn’t particularly care. “Something in there to be said about authenticity.”

“I think there’s something to be said in showing off what god gave you too.” Aaron said, swiveling his barstool so that he was facing Dean and Dean was facing him. He punctuated he statement by placing a hand on Dean’s denim clad knee.

The alarm bells in Dean’s brain were silenced by the pleasant tingle of the alcohol finally taking effect. Between it, the conversation that seemed to be going well, and the fact that he was actually out and doing something fun for himself (even if he had been bitching about it a half hour ago), he was feeling pretty good. He didn’t even seem to mind that much that Cas was gone, though part of him was hoping Cas would come back to the bar and then they’d be able to do something together.

“I don’t do cocky, bit off a turnoff if you ask me. Confident, sure, that I can fuck with, but it’s a fine line.” Dean replied, carrying on as if it were a completely casual conversation. “Like you seem confident, that’s cool. That’s two brownie points already.”

Aaron, who was frankly surprised that he had gotten this far, seemed surprised that Dean was so receptive and it looked like there was a war on his face as he tried to figure out what to say. What ended up happening was a step too far that he was going to blame on the alcohol. “You ever hear that one song? Save a horse, ride a cowboy.”

“Ages ago. Why?” Dean asked, eyes darting down to his leg as Aaron’s hand slid up his leg and dangerously close to his upper thigh. The realization of what was beginning to happen was finally starting to sink in and it wasn’t mixing well with the alcohol.

“Well cowboy, I’d like to ride tonight.”

Dean’s eyes widened and he choked on his drink, unable to deny what was happening. His face and chest were flushed with embarrassment and he very awkwardly set the drink down as he coughed into his arm, unable to meet Aaron’s undoubtedly concerned gaze.

“So uh, I’m not um…” Dean stammered, still staring at Aaron’s hand. “I’m not into men. Sorry.”

Aaron pulled his hand away from Dean’s thigh immediately, face just as red as Dean’s. “Oh god, I’m sorry. I totally assumed you were.” He mumbled. “It’s Swayze’s, I assume everyone is. I uh, have a great night.”

Aaron practically fled from Dean and Dean groaned, dropping his head onto the sticky bar counter that had largely cleared out, music quieting as people began to crowd around the stage for the costume contest. Benny and Lee were still behind the bar and Lee made his way over.

“Do I want to know what just happened?” He chuckled, setting down a shot in front of Dean. “Have tequila on the house.”

Dean lifted his forehead from the bar counter and downed the shot before looking up at Lee, staring at his neighbour in an Eric Draven costume. “You and Benny run a gay bar don’t you?”

“Technically no.”

“Technically?”

“It didn’t start out as a gay bar, they just kind of showed up and we rolled with it. Not like we were gonna deny our own community.” Lee shrugged, leaning against the bar. “That bother you?”

Dean shook his head, taking a moment to think. He tried but failed to articulate what exactly was bothering him about the entire thing. It wasn’t that it was a gay bar or that he, a straight man, was in a gay bar, and it wasn’t that his friends were obviously gay. He didn’t have an issue with the community so what was it exactly that was bothering him. Maybe it was the guy who had hit on him and bought him a drink? But that didn’t feel right either.

“Seems like you’ve got a lot going on in the old thinker, probably not a good thing for Halloween. Have another drink and just try to have fun.” Lee said, sliding Dean a dark looking drink.

Normally Dean wouldn’t have drank it but he knew Lee and besides, the buzz in his body was fogging his brain enough to impair his decision making skills. It was bitter and licoricey as it went down, Sambuca and maybe jaeger if Dean had to guess, but he didn’t mind it at all. He didn’t even mind when the thump of the music came back, the bass somehow recognizable. What he did mind, however, was what he saw when he turned around.

Trent Reznor’s voice crooned over the speakers but Dean ignored it, too focused on Cas who had somehow found himself on the edge of the dancing crowd closest to the bar. He’d lost the trench coat, probably balled up in some corner of the bar, and the dress shirt was so soaked with some mysterious liquid it clung to Cas’ chest. Dean blinked slowly, reptilian like gaze fixed on Cas as he watched his friend dance. There was something about the way he moved, something animalistic and alluring in how he rolled his hips and danced up against whoever was behind him. Dean didn’t know who it was. He didn’t care.

Dean’s pulse quickened in his throat, threatening to tear itself free and when it met with the blood roaring in his ears, he thought he was going to pass out. It was the alcohol, it had to be, that’s what was setting his nerves on fire, not the way his friend was pressed up against a stranger all bare necked and sweaty shirted. Tearing his gaze away and fixing it on someone else dancing, a woman in a skimpy red dress, dulled the fire in his veins but only for a moment because Cas was back in his periphery and he was losing whatever ground he had to stand on.

It was with wobbly feet and weakening resolve that Dean fought an urge, an urge he didn’t understand, and pushed his way past the crowd. The night air hit him like a welcome frigid blast and he breathed a sigh of relief as he pressed his flannel clad back against the brick. Cas and that animalistic dancing couldn’t find him here. Neither could the alcohol.

Time passed, Dean didn’t know how much, and then Cas was suddenly there. He looked disheveled and a little disoriented but had the same satisfied grin as he had the last time they’d been at Swayze’s, though Dean found it considerably less charming this time around. “I was wondering where you were. It’s our agreed to time, you wanna head out?”

“You lost your coat.”

Cas glanced down at his now drying dress shirt, sighing. “Gave it away. Some girl threw up all over her costume and I felt bad, said she could have the coat so she didn’t have to stand in gross clothes all night.”

“Forever a saint.” Dean said as he pushed off the wall. “But yeah, I’ve been ready to leave for hours. I’d like my movies and popcorn now.”

“You could’ve come found me. I would’ve left if you wanted to.”

“You like Halloween and crowds and drinking and dancing, I wasn’t gonna be an asshole and make you leave. I can deal with nursing a drink in a corner for a while.” He shrugged, trying not to let his mood teeter into sour. Dean was trying his hardest but he couldn’t get the image of Cas dancing out of his head and the harder he tried to erase it, the stronger it came back. All that did was piss him off.

“The whole point is to have fun together and be drunk and do shit together, not me do shit and you be grouchy. I will start calling you Bert.”

“Don’t you fucking dare. I will ban you from watching movies at my place and we both know you like my couch better.”

“Rude.” Cas chuckled, feigning offence as they walked back towards their homes. “Did you at least have a little fun while you were there? Like one tiny good interaction?”

“I got hit on, I guess that was fun. Not my type but still nice I guess.”

“A win is a win, especially a win like that!”

Dean shrugged again. Maybe he’d wake up the next morning excited he’d been hit on but for now it left him feeling confused more than anything else. Had it been a woman he’d probably have gone with it, flirted back and hit on her long enough to maybe take her home knowing Ben would be gone for hours. But it wasn’t a woman and that’s what complicated everything.

He hadn’t hated it, the attention from the guy. The free drink was nice and being told he was attractive was nice and Dean didn’t understand why he liked it. Like sure it was a compliment and you were supposed to like compliments but this felt different somehow. This stirred that same fuzzy tingling feeling that had been plaguing him ever since he’d met Cas and it frustrated him. Then there was Cas and his dancing and Dean didn’t even want to think about that and what that stirred in him.

He was vaguely aware of Cas talking, something about changing before meeting Dean at his place, and Dean heard himself reply that it was cool before he was walking into his house. It felt a bit like walking on autopilot, his movements not entirely his own as he retreated into his mind. He shed his cowboy costume and pulled on the customary sweats and t-shirt before picking up the screaming cat at his feet, the warm mass of fur finally bringing him back down to earth.

“I would kill to be you right now. Get all my meals catered, free room and board, free toys, free love and attention, and none of that complicated feelings bullshit.” Dean mumbled, petting Spork as he made his way downstairs. He opened the front door when he heard the knock, feeling much more relaxed when he saw Cas in similar garb. “You want popcorn?”

“Sure.” Cas said, closing the door behind him. Something seemed off and he furrowed his brow as he followed Dean to the kitchen. “Are you okay? You just seem a little off.”

Dean set Spork down on the floor before washing his hands and then reaching for the popcorn. He debated on telling Cas the truth but he didn’t entirely know what the truth was so that didn’t quite feel right. In the end, once the popcorn was in the microwave, Dean decided to spill.

“I’m not a confident person. I’m sure you’ve noticed that. I don’t do large crowds or parties or social situations and I’m trying the dating thing again but it’s just- there’s a lot going on there.”

Cas nodded his head, leaning against the kitchen counter so he could listen. It seemed like Dean really needed to vent and while Cas knew he was probably a little too tipsy to be the best shoulder to cry on, he was going to try his best.

“I’ve been trying the dates but it’s just not working and everyone keeps asking me about them and it’s a lot of pressure and I’ve been using us hanging out as an excuse for not dating and I feel a little bad about that. I mean us hanging out is objectively better than first dates that don’t go anywhere but I just, they freak me out.”

“First dates freak you out?”

Dean nodded his head, collecting his thoughts as he took the popcorn out of the microwave and poured it into a bowl. He set the bowl between them, ensuring he gave Spork an offering so the orange demon would remain calm and lay down on the counter. The last thing he wanted was the cat causing chaos in the middle of the conversation.

“Getting to know someone with the idea of dating them is fine but it’s the whole idea of the date going bad and then them just fucking off. It’s the not knowing of it all. Will they like the shirt I’m wearing or my jokes or what I do or how I act or anything about me? I’m not the kind of person everyone likes and that’s fine but I just- it’s been so long since I’ve tried to date and I can’t deal with the not knowing and the finality of it all.”

“So you’re scared they won’t like you and they’ll reject you?”

“It sounds bad when you frame it like that.”

Cas sighed a bit before picking up the popcorn bowl. “Come on, let’s move this conversation to the couch. I think it’s a sit down one. And I’m not saying that it’s bad so don’t go there.”

Dean followed, taking his usual spot on the left side of the couch. Typically Cas would set the bowl in between them and they’d share that way but Dean felt the couch dip closer to him and then Cas was sat beside him, popcorn bowl on the coffee table in front of them. With Cas so close Dean felt what little resolve he had begin to wane and he wished he could just vanish into the cushion without a trace, pulled down into them like some thirty year old off brand Johnny Depp. But he couldn’t and Cas was looking at him with that stupid gentle understanding expression and all it did was make Dean’s stomach churn.

“I don’t expect you to get it.” Dean mumbled, staring straight ahead so he didn’t have to look at Cas. “And we don’t have to talk about this. We can just watch a movie and pretend this isn’t happening.”

“We can do that. If you really want. Or, like you’ve told me, in the spirit of trying to be more open, we talk about what’s bothering you. We both know I’m not gonna judge you.”

Broken down by Cas’ honest and earnest desire to help, Dean gave in, he shifted slightly, turning his upper half so he could face Cas though he still couldn’t bring himself to look at his friend. “I’m afraid of rejection, okay? That’s why I don’t date and that’s why I’ve been putting it off and that’s why I don’t do friends and it’s so fucking stupid but I can’t help it. God you probably think I’m an idiot.”

“I don’t, for the record. I think you’re a human being with feelings. It’s natural to want to protect your feelings and your peace, no one’s going to blame you for not dating because you don’t want to get rejected. It’s not something you need to be this upset about.”

“You don’t get it man, it’s fucking pathological at this point.”

“Then explain it to me. Make me understand why it’s different for you than it is for everyone else.”

Dean sighed deeply, scrubbing a hand over his face. This was it, this was the moment that he spilled his guts and then Cas decided he didn’t want to hang out anymore. It was inevitable, really. This kind of thing always happened and the only reason it hadn’t with Charlie was because she had some kind of honour bound duty to stick around. Cas didn’t have that and there was no way he’d want to be friends with someone so screwed up.

“My dad died when I was four, housefire. We had the whole parentified older sibling bullshit going on but it was the kids at school, that’s when it started. It was the whispers and the looks and the ‘sorry we don’t want to play with you’s’ but I could deal, cuz I had to. And I mean they were just kids right, not like they knew any better. You think middle school’ll be different but it’s not because everyone loves your kid sibling and how cool and smart he is and no one gives a shit about you. Teachers don’t notice you, your ‘friends’ stop hanging out when they realize you’ve got nothing to offer ‘cept years of untreated resentment against your mom who was just trying her best after she lost her husband.”

It was here Dean paused, swallowing down the lump in his throat. He’d started to unpack this in therapy with Dr. Vallens but that work was new and they hadn’t gotten very far. She wasn’t judgmental, he knew that, and while he knew Cas wasn’t either, he was still scared. Dean reached for one of the throw pillows, only to be met with an orange lump of fur who he willingly picked up and set in his lap before he continued.

“High schools rolls around and it’s the same bullshit until you meet her, the girl that finally notices you. I don’t know why she noticed me but she did and I loved her and I thought she loved me. People noticed me because I was with her, not because I was me, and I thought it was fine. But then she left. She left me with our kid and I didn’t know what the fuck to do. How the fuck was I supposed to finish school and raise a kid knowing full well she left because she didn’t want me? But I did, I finished and I raised him but it wasn’t fine because I stopped noticing the brother I raised and he hated me for it. He left me too, fucked off for a school all the way across the country because he felt ignored. Two years later my mom left, moved away here and six months after that my best friend left. I lost everyone, every single person who noticed me was gone. I was alone again.”

Cas moved closer as he listened, expression perfectly neutral. At one point he reached out to put a hand on Dean’s knee, squeezing gently before stroking his thumb back and forth. For whatever it was worth, he hoped it was helping. Dean continued, too far into it to look back.

“Of course I had Ben but he had to notice me because I was raising him. We move down here and I think ‘okay cool, fresh start time’ and that works for a while. I meet new people, I try to be friendly, I even make friends with the neighbour next door. But then Lisa is back and my son hates me and it feels like the only good thing in my life, the only person who has never rejected me, hates my guts and never wants to see me again. Of course it’s fine now but it wasn’t and for a while there I really thought I was going to lose him. Do you have any idea what to feels like to feel like you’re losing your kid?”

Cas nodded his head. “I do.”

“Then you know exactly what I’m talking about. Anyways, I get here and I try to reinvent myself; I go out to new places and try new things and get a new look and still it isn’t enough. I make up with my mom and my estranged brother and I make new friends and still it isn’t enough. None of it is enough to fix that stupid fucking fear that they’re all going to leave again. So that’s why I can’t date and I can’t fucking do hookups because I need that personal connection. I just- fuck man, I want someone who notices me, the real me and says ‘hey, I want to stay’. I just want to be someone’s first choice and I want them to stay.”

Cas sat there in silence until Dean had finished and a few minutes past that still, really trying to absorb what he had just heard. None of it surprised him, not based off of what he knew about Dean and from the cryptic advice Charlie had given him. What it did do was leave an ache in his chest. He knew what Dean meant, was intimately familiar with the ice cold ache of loneliness and being the last choice and it hurt. When Cas finally looked up, his heart nearly burst. Dean looked like he was ready to sob, face red and eyes welling with tears.

“I’m not going anywhere, Dean Winchester, you hear me? You’re stuck with me until you move or die.” He said, praying he was conveying sincerity and just a little bit of humour. Cas held open his arms, silently offering Dean more than just verbal comfort. Dean’s eyes flicked between Cas’ face and his arms and then he ever so gently set Spork on the floor before leaning in, accepting the physical comfort.

Cas was warm, human, and his arms wrapped tight around Dean as he hugged him. Their positioning was incredibly awkward and Cas tried to shift them both, managing to mostly stretch out along the width of the couch save for his left leg which had wound up bent and pressed against the leg of the coffee table. Dean lay half on top of him, lower body between his legs and chest pressed to his torso. His face, practically invisible as it lay somewhere around Cas’ shoulder and neck, was only slightly higher than the arms that wrapped themselves around Cas.

“I know you probably don’t mean that but thanks anyway.” He mumbled, breath warm against Cas’ neck.

“I’m dead serious. I’ll call up Rowena right now and we can do a blood pact to prove it. You’re stuck with me Winchester so you better fucking like it. I don’t make friends easy either.”

At that Dean tried to glance up the best he could but realized he wouldn’t be able to, abandoning the effort altogether in favour of continuing to lay on top of Cas in his arms. The hug was helping, more than he cared to admit. “I just told you all the stupid trauma bullshit and you’re not going to run away? Either you’re a saint or you’re fucked in the head.”

“Who says I can’t be both?”

Dean laughed, the tiniest puff of breath escaping. “I feel like you’ve got to share now. I just told you my biggest fear and it wouldn’t be fair if you didn’t get to vent back. But only if you want to.”

“Dean, you just unloaded a massive trauma and are probably still tipsy. Do you really want to hear why I am the way I am?”

Dean pulled his arms out from under Cas’ back so that he could hold himself up on his elbows, looking directly at Cas. There was genuine concern on his face but more than that there was an understanding and Dean, while still feeling incredibly gross from his rant, was grateful too. He tried to offer Cas a small smile but figured it came out somewhat watery and concerning.

“I really do. I shared and you listened so it’s fair you share and I listen.”

“Okay fine, I’ll share my mysterious backstory but we’re gonna have to move a bit. I can’t feel my left leg, it’s wedged between the couch and the coffee table.”

Dean blinked slowly, suddenly very aware of exactly how and where his body was positioned. The awareness cut through the emotion and the alcohol induced brain fog like a knife through butter. He could feel Cas’ leg underneath him and had no doubt if he lay back down he’d feel the hard line of his chest too.

“Yeah, sorry. Guess I don’t know my own body weight.” He apologized, pulling himself off of Cas and taking a seat next to Cas when the man shifted positions. They sat next to each other and Dean turned to face Cas, resting an elbow on the edge of the couch and propping his head up with his hand. “Go ahead, tell me all your tragic lore.”

“Well it starts with hardcore Roman Catholic parents and a twin brother. That should pretty much tell you everything you need to go about my upbringing. In case it doesn’t, I was essentially a repressed kid shoved into the copy paste version of my straight and well-loved twin brother for years.”

“It’s just something about brothers I guess.” Dean replied. He was curious to see where this would lead. Cas hadn’t told him much aside from vague allusions to bad choices.

“Yeah well Jimmy was the epitome of perfect. Perfect grades, perfect son, perfectly devout Catholic. He couldn’t do anything wrong and everyone loved him for it. I was decidedly less perfect. Especially when thirteen hit.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Jimmy goes and finds God and Amelia and I find Mick. He was new to the parish and that was exciting and I guess between that and the hormones one thing led to another and soon we were a thing. Of course that didn’t exactly fly with the folks.”

Dean’s lips thinned, smile so tight it was uncomfortable. He had a sinking feeling he knew where this was going and he didn’t like it. Unsure of what to do or how to help, he kept his position on the couch. Cas scooted closer.

“I thought they’d kick me out or pull that conversion camp shit when they found out but they didn’t. They let me stay but they iced me out. For all intents and purposes I was a stranger living rent free in their home who they barely interacted with. And it hurt, it fucking stung. Hurt like Hell when Jimmy did it too. He was my brother, he wasn’t supposed to do that to me. So I started acting out.”

“And that’s where you got the emo Cas pictures from.”

Cas nodded his head, expression souring. “It started small, my grades slipped first. Then it was missing class and fights and then I met Levi. He liked to call himself Leviathan but I always thought that was stupid. Anyways, that uh didn’t end well. Bad crowd bred worse behaviour and I dropped out my senior year. Of course my parents didn’t care, they were too busy with Jimmy and he was too busy with everything else to notice. You been out by Windemere Road yet?”

“No, why?”

“It gets real icy on those curves and if you get in a car with someone who definitely shouldn’t be driving you might end up in a wreck.” Cas’ voice was uncharacteristically bitter as he spoke, posture rigid. “Fractured both my fibulas, now I live with metal rods in them. Problem with real intense surgeries like that is that they give you good painkillers after and when you have no support network because your entire family is pretending you don’t exist, there’s only one road you go down.”

“How long?” Dean asked quietly, trying to figure out how to comfort Cas without making it look like he was doing it.

“Two years before my brother and his wife, high school sweethearts and all that, took pity on me and got me help. Two fucking years of my life I can’t get back and I barely remember all because I was too fucking stupid to know not to get into a car with someone who was clearly drunk and my parents were too fucking stubborn and set in their ways to give their disappointment of a son the help he clearly needed.”

“I’m sure you weren’t a disappointment.”

“I was a queer 17 year old high school drop-out addicted to opioids, of fucking course I was a disappointment. And that’s fine, honestly. I accept that I was not who my parents wanted me to be. I was lost, I didn’t know what was happening. But Jimmy and Amelia got me help and I got clean, I spent almost two years in rehab getting sober. Parents were dead by the time I got out, not that I would’ve gone to their funeral anyway but still.”

“Sounds like he did care about you in the end.”

Cas nodded his head, taking a deep breath to compose himself. This was where the story felt harder to talk about and he knew he would tear up despite his best efforts not to. He could see Dean shifting and watching and decided that he was throwing all caution to the wind, wanting the same physical comfort he’d given his friend. Closing the gap, Cas tucked his legs up onto the couch and curled up to Dean’s side. There was a moment of surprise as Dean registered what was happening and tried to figure out the best course of action. He settled on stretching out an arm to wrap around Cas, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze to tell him that everything was going to be okay.

“He did. They helped me find a place and got me in touch with people to get my ged and made sure I went to meetings and got me a job at a local plant nursery. He apologized to me the night he told me I was going to be an uncle, told me he’d never meant for any of it to happen and that if he could go back and change it that he would. I told him that it didn’t matter because the past was the past and he was here now. We were better but I was still lost. The meetings helped but I was lonely and with him and Amelia expecting and no other family, I reverted a little.”

“What replaced the drugs?”

“Sex.”

Dean nodded his head, keeping his mouth shut so he didn’t say something he didn’t mean to say.

“Was it smart, no. But it is what it is and I met a lot of people I’m sill good friends with through it. Point of that is that it taught me a lot about myself and it was no strings so I didn’t have to worry about judgment or people not liking me or acting out or being iced out. It was a night or two and then we were done. Course that stopped when the kids were born and my brother needed help with them.”

“Still can’t picture you around babies. You don’t seem like you’d be good with them.”

“I’m not. But then my brother died and I didn’t have a choice.”

Dean squeezed Cas’ shoulder when he felt the man tense, hoping it would help. It did and Cas leaned further into Dean, deflating like a sad balloon. “I’ve been there, I get it. But you got it through it, evidently.”

“Barely, but I did. I got lucky because I reached out and I used the community resources and supports that were out there. Not like I could rely on my family, they were all dead. Got a better job and came into some inheritance money after the funeral so we moved here and we’ve been here since. Community supports all went under by the time the kids were eight.”

“That how non-profit started?”

Cas nodded. “I wanted to give back because I wouldn’t have been able to raise the kids and get through it all without so much outside help. It was a nightmare to get everything off the ground and I’m not ashamed to admit we lived right on that poverty line for years. But I did it and it started taking off and I couldn’t be more grateful for it.”

Dean turned his head ever so slightly to glance down at Cas, able to catch the smallest glimpse of his face though it was mostly hair he saw. He was struck by the sudden and unexplainable urge to kiss Cas’ head, something he’d done countless times for Ben when he’d bene upset, but this didn’t feel quite the same. In the end, Dean only smiled softly and turned his head back to the dark screen of the tv.

“Guess we’re both a little fucked in the head. I’m afraid of rejection and you’ve just got a shady past and a dead family.”

“What a bunch of aces.” Cas snorted, sounding mildly amused for the first time in close to an hour. “For the record, you being afraid of rejection matches perfectly with my fear of people getting to know the real me.”

That admission gave Dean pause and he shifted slightly, arm still around Cas though he could see his face now. Cas seemed uncharacteristically unsure of himself, slight downturn to his mouth and a waver in his blue eyes. It threw Dean off and sent that same feeling rolling through him yet again. Turned so his body was facing Cas, Dean pursed himself. “You’re scared of people getting to know the real you? But the real you is great.”

“I don’t think you know the real me, Dean.” Cas sighed, turning his body towards Dean. “I highly doubt you’d enjoy him.”

“Who do you think the real Cas is then? Because I don’t think we have the same idea.”

“Look Dean, the real Cas is an inherently selfish asshole with a vendetta against the world because he felt like he wasn’t getting enough love from everyone around him. He’s impatient and frustrated and motivated by base desires and not the kind of person you want to be friends with. I’ve done shit I can’t take back Dean and I’m not a good person.”

By now Dean was the furthest thing from tipsy, his mind sober and working. He didn’t agree with what Cas was saying and his expression said as much. “You’re human, Cas, none of us are good people but you’re dead wrong about everything else. You run a non-profit that literally just helped someone get an apartment and a job and has done lord knows what else for this community. That’s not nothing. And that sure as hell isn’t selfish either. Taking in your kids when you didn’t have to isn’t selfish either, not a lot of people would’ve done that.”

Cas looked like he was going to speak but Dean held up a finger to silence him, continuing on.

“You’ve given me so much fucking advice about Lisa and the stuff with Ben and all the other random shit and you have no obligation to do that. You did it because you wanted to, because that’s what good people do. The real you, Cas, is the kind of person who cares about people and wants to help them and is so much fun to be around. He’s funny and smart and a little fucking ridiculous sometimes but he’s great. So I know the real you and I think it’s time you start getting to know him too.”

Cas listened as Dean spoke and the more he listened, the more heat prickled his cheeks. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had made the effort to console him or to remind him that he wasn’t a terrible person. Dean meant it too, if the expression on his face was anything to go by, and for the briefest of moments Cas felt his eyes flick to Dean’s lips. It would be so easy to lean in, to test the waters, but that was a stupid move so he didn’t. Cas settled back down, still nestled against Dean’s side as he faced the tv.

“Thank you Dean.” He said. “Means a lot you would say that.”

Dean smiled and stretched, reaching for the remote. He turned the tv on and picked a random horror movie, deciding it would be good background noise as they sat there. The pair, satisfied with what they had said, and frankly exhausted by the conversation, watched in silence.

When Ben got home around 2 am and quietly opened the front door, he was greeted with the sound of the tv playing from the living room and not the silence he had expected. Curiosity got the better of him and he crept towards the living room, half expecting his dad to be passed out with a bowl of popcorn spilled on the floor. What he saw was not that.

Dean was there, head tilted back as he snored away but he wasn’t alone. Nestled snug against his side with head on his chest was Cas and Ben had to clap a hand over his mouth to stop an audible what the fuck from escaping. This didn’t feel right, not with his dad’s arm around the neighbour but who was he to judge. Quite frankly the entire thing disturbed him. Spork was there too, stretched out across the arm of the couch.

“This is none of my business.” Ben mumbled to himself as he grabbed a blanket from the linen closet, draping it over Dean and Cas’ laps. With the blanket fully in place, Ben turned on his heels and went to bed.

Whatever was happening, the next morning was sure to be interesting.

Chapter Text

The dull throbbing in Dean’s arm roused him from his sleep, intensifying as he shook off the remaining dregs. It was only as he began to stretch his arm that he came to the realization that he couldn’t, that there was something blocking him. The night came rushing back to him in flashes, the bar and the breakdown and the comfort and the quips and the Cas of it all.

Cas was still there when Dean glanced over and he very delicately pulled his arm away from its position around Cas’ shoulders, biting back a groan when it popped loudly. He’d be paying for that for the next couple days. Of course he’d be paying for the alcohol he drank for the next couple days too so it was just another thing on the list.

Cas groaned softly in his sleep and shifted, leaning back against the cushion. Dean glanced over, curious. He’d never seen Cas asleep before. There was a serenity to Cas as he slept, no lines of stress or wrinkles in his face and Dean picked up on a few new things since the last time he’d stared at Cas’ face. Scar and canines aside, Cas had a permanent indent in his cupid’s bow and Dean knew the other man had chewed it into existence. Something about that image, a young Cas so distracted by life he was chewing on his own lip, stirred something in Dean and brought the whisper of a smile to his face.

“You’re such a softie.” He murmured fondly to no one in particular, staring a little bit longer. There was a lock of hair curling ever so slightly over the scar near Cas’ eyebrow and Dean reached out to brush it away, startled into inaction when Spork’s morning caterwauling began. It was with great pain that Dean extricated himself from the blankets and made the trek to the kitchen, dishing out Spork’s breakfast to appease him before beginning on breakfast for the three humans in the house.

A few minutes into cooking the scrambled eggs Dean heard footsteps and then Ben was shuffling into the kitchen, blanket wrapped around himself as he squinted at the kitchen lights. Dean snorted but took pity on his son and dimmed the lights before gesturing to the pot of coffee that was brewing. “Extra strong, you’ll want to drink it black. I take it you had fun last night?”

Ben held his thumb up before fixing himself a cup of coffee, downing it in silence before making another and scooping up his cat. Seated at the kitchen table and petting Spork, he finally spoke and he sounded exactly like Dean had expected: incredibly hungover. “I did. Made some very good choices and some not so good choices.”

“Hangovers don’t get better as you age so just be ready for that.” Dean warned, setting the eggs aside so he could whip up the sauce for the sandwiches. “When did you get back?”

“Like two I think. You and Cas were passed out on the couch so I threw a blanket on you and went to bed.”

“Thanks for that. Surprised me a bit when I woke up but I’m not gonna complain. Might complain about my fucked shoulder but that’s a whole ‘nother story.”

At that Ben raised an eyebrow, glancing up at Dean from his second cup of coffee. He’d been waiting for an in to ask Dean about what the fuck he’d seen the night before and what had very obviously been going on between him and Cas for the last several months and now he had it. Of course it didn’t take a genius to figure it out but knowing his dad, Ben wasn’t super confident. “Yeah so uh, what happened with you and the neighbour last night? Cuz I walked in and you two were passed out on the couch and like I get you’re old and that that happens but you were like cuddling passed out. And it’s totally cool, well not really but kind of, if you’re like a thing and into dudes cuz obviously I don’t care but like what’s going on?”

“Woah, okay, hold the fuck up.” Dean said, turning away from the food to look at Ben. “Lemme just recap that. You walk in at 2 am after drinking for hours, while still drunk, see me and the neighbour passed out on the couch, and immediately assume that because we’re physically close that I’m somehow into men and that the neighbour and I are a thing… that about right?”

Ben nodded.

“Okay, well we’re not and I’m not so let’s get that straight and let’s not assume things when we’re drunk.”

With that Dean turned back to the food, finally working on the bread and remainder of the sandwiches. There was a muffled groan and curse from another room a few moments later and then a very tired Cas was walking into the kitchen. He walked into the kitchen as if he’d been there a million times, sidestepping Dean to reach the cupboard with the mugs where he picked his unofficial official mug which he then filled with coffee. Cas knew where the honey was too, and what shelf in the fridge the milk was on, and Ben watched with growing suspicion. Those weren’t the actions of someone unfamiliar with their surroundings. Cas knew their kitchen.

Cas, who had yet to speak a word, leaned against the kitchen counter and took a few large sips of his coffee before looking at Dean. His morning voice was deeper than his normal voice, gruffer, and Ben watched his father react to it in a way he didn’t quite understand. “I think your couch unfucked my back.”

“Glad it could be of service. How you feeling?”

Cas shrugged his shoulders, beginning to speak but cutting himself off when he realized Ben was in the kitchen. “Better, thank you. Breakfast smells fantastic.”

“Two meat and egg sandwich, greasy as hell but works magic on a hangover. Figured we could all use one.” Dean shrugged. “You want yours to go? I know you’re probably worried about your kids destroying your place.”

“That’d be great if you don’t mind.” He said, turning his attention to Ben. “You guys have fun last night?”

“Probably as much as you did.”

Cas elected not to respond, nodding instead. He knew exactly how much fun he and Dean had had and suspected Dean had chosen not to share that tidbit with his son. Holding out his hand to collect his lovingly wrapped sandwich, Cas offered Dean one of his genuine smiles. “See you around, Dean, Thanks for last night.”

The stare Ben gave the pair of grown men as Cas left was unmistakable.

~

Kaia had just slipped on her hoodie when she heard the knock at Claire’s door, glancing up in surprise. Expecting to see Cas who usually made his rounds and woke the kids up, she was pleasantly surprised to see Jack and welcomed them in. “Hey, morning. How you feeling after last night?”

“Totally fine. Stopped after two and had water after. How’s Claire?”

Kaia chuckled quietly before gesturing to Claire’s bed. Claire lay in the middle, face buried in the side of a pumpkin spice latte squishmallow but she was out of her costume and in a comfortable looking pair of pjs with no makeup on.

“She’s gonna be hungover as hell but that’s her own fault, probably had five or six drinks before I even got to her and that was still like an hour and a half before we left.” Kaia said, still smiling fondly. “Thanks, by the way, for colluding with Ben.”

“It worked then?”

“Sort of.” Kaia said, taking one more look at Claire before following Jack out of her room and downstairs so the pair of them could make breakfast. It seemed like a pancakes with eggs and bacon kind of morning.

“How does it sort of work?”

“Well it means she stumbled, fell into me, sort of groped me, and then decided that the kiss we did have was a practice kiss and doesn’t actually count because she was drunk and I really didn’t want our first kiss to be when she was drunk. So technically we’ve had our first kiss but if we go by what Claire’s saying, and I kind of agree with her here, then we haven’t.”

“Kind of congrats then? She was really nervous so that’s probably why she drank so much.”

Kaia shrugged, body in the fridge as she pulled out everything they needed. She handed the eggs and bacon to Jack but kept everything she needed for the pancakes. “Yeah, that’s fair. Oh I dunno if you noticed but Ben vanished and I’m pretty sure he got laid. I gave him a condom anyways.”

“Who did we give a condom to?”

Startled by the sudden intrusion, Kaia and Jack snapped their heads to the kitchen entrance where Cas stood there with a mildly amused expression and a partially eaten sandwich in his hand. His sudden appearance explained why he hadn’t woken them up and Jack simply shrugged, returning to the eggs and bacon.

“To Ben but you probably shouldn’t tell his dad.” Kaia said.

“Oh Dean already knows, didn’t seem particularly bothered by it.” Cas replied. “I take it Claire’s sleeping off a hangover?”

“Kaia’s so hideous Claire had to get drunk to finally kiss her.” Jack teased, sliding a plate of food Kaia’s way so she could add the pancakes to it.

Cas was the furthest thing from surprised and simply sat down once he’d made himself a cup of coffee. “It’s about time you two kissed, congrats. I’ll save you the whole ‘hurt my daughter’ spiel because we both know who does what in the relationship. Also wouldn’t want to deprive Jody and Donna the pleasure of that conversation.”

“So where are you coming from then?” Kaia asked curiously. “Cuz you’ve got a sandwich, you’re dressed casual, and you look like you actually slept. Kind of rare.”

Cas smiled down at his cup of coffee, a strangely sheepish gesture that didn’t go unnoticed by his eagle-eyed companions. He was never sheepish, not when it concerned what they had assumed was a hookup. “If you really need to know, I fell asleep on Dean’s couch last night and that’s where I’m coming from.”

Jack narrowed their eyes, suspicious. “You do mean couch when you say couch, right? Like not couch as in code for bed? Cuz like I don’t care what you do but I think Ben and Claire might care if you and Dean are doing stuff.”

“Woah okay no, hold on,” Cas said as he threw his hands up. “Dean and I are friends, platonic friends. Couch means couch and saying I fell asleep on his couch means I fell asleep on his couch. We had a few too many at the bar and got chatting during a movie and passed out, that’s it.”

Kaia and Jack seemed satisfied with that answer and Cas was equally as relieved they didn’t press him on the issue. A few moments later there more footsteps and then Claire was making her presence known, squinting at everyone in the kitchen through her sleep lidded eyes. She scanned the room before zeroing in on the breakfast, plunking herself down beside Kaia and eating in silence.

“Are you going to live?” Cas asked her, barely hiding his amusement as he sipped his coffee.

“You were right about the jealousy thing. I kissed her last night and now I get a do-over this morning.” She smiled, almost too satisfied with the situation. “Would be better if my head didn’t hurt.”

“Pop a couple advil, finish your breakfast, and you should be alright. A nap wouldn’t hurt either. But I’ll leave you kids to it, I’ve got stuff to do today. Nice to see you again, Kaia.”

“Nice to see you too.” She replied back with a wave, waiting until Cas had gone up the stairs before turning back to Claire. “So you really did have a whole crisis about me? That’s actually really sweet.”

Claire mumbled something under her breath, seemingly more interested in finishing her pancakes. It was only when her plate was empty that she decided Kaia deserved a proper response, turning in her seat to look at her. The sleep had faded from her eyes and while the displeasure of the hangover remained, there was a lightness and a curiosity there that Kaia hadn’t seen for some time. “I know you gotta go but can I get our do-over kiss before you do?”

“You know I should be mean and make you work for it after the hell you put me through trying to get you to go the fuck to sleep last night but I’m feeling charitable this morning so I won’t be. I’ll let you know when I get home.” Kaia teased before she leaned over and kissed Claire. It was soft and gentle and she smiled before she pulled away, leaving a happy but dazed Claire in the kitchen with her sibling.

~

The longer Dean stared at himself in the steam covered mirror, the more his insecurity grew. It felt like it was feeding on him, gorging on his half naked towel wrapped post shower pre-shave body and he didn’t like it. He liked himself, he knew that much at the very least; after all, what wasn’t there to love about muscular arms with a tall frame and what he thought was on objectively decent haircut. What he couldn’t seem to settle on was the stubble.

He’d let it grow longer than he’d meant to, a side effect of becoming distracted and obsessed with whatever the fuck was happening with him and Cas. It poked at the pads of his fingers as he ran them along his jaw, twisting his head every which way trying to figure out what would work. Full beard was too Viking and clean shaven too puritan but the five o clock shadow he’d rocked for years felt too safe and he didn’t want to play it safe anymore.

“A slight trim, that’ll work.” He told himself. Praying the sound of the electric razor would chase away his thoughts like the prayer of an ancient priest. It did not.

Dean’s mind drifted as he shaved, returning to the nest it had made out of every shred of every memory he’d had with Cas in the past five months. It settled on Halloween, on the way Dean had wanted to kiss the top of Cas’ head and comfort him and the way he’d wants to brush that stray lock of hair off of his forehead with the tenderness of a handmaid in love with her employer. Equal parts revolted and fascinated, Dean’s mind found itself slipping back to the way Cas was dressed that night and how he’d danced as Dean dressed himself. The layers had been innumerable and Dean found himself wondering if that’s how Victorian men had felt when they’d seen women walk by in the streets, tempted by the layers of cloth knowing what they would reveal. In the end Dean settled for a comfortable sweater and some cargo pants, hoping his beard trim would give him enough confidence to make it through the day.

“Weren’t you supposed to be at Aunt Charlie’s like a half hour ago?”

Ben’s voice popped Dean’s bubble and sent him hurtling back into reality, eyes widening as he glanced down at his watch. “Fuck, I was. She’s gonna fucking kill. Uh food’s in the fridge, I’ll be back for supper, don’t kill anyone while I’m gone, and don’t teach the cat any more tricks. He can open cupboards and I did not enjoy finding him in my oats the other day.”

“Noted. Say hi for me.”

Dean flashed Ben a thumbs up and then rushed past him, nearly forgetting his car keys in his haste. He didn’t think Charlie would particularly care that he was late but she’d want an explanation and Dean knew that that would land him in hot water. Luckily for Dean, he arrived just as Rowena was slipping out the front door and the pair stared at each other much like newly introduced cats would.

“Nice shirt.” Dean said, gesturing to the Charmed graphic tee Rowena was swimming in. Far from her usual style, Dean was happy to see that his best friend as at least happy enough with Rowena to share clothing.

Rowena looked at Dean with a cool gaze before she stood on her toes, reaching out to brush her thumb across his jaw. It came away red which jarred Dean and she simply chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to bewitch someone, Dean? Blood spells are terribly messy.”

“Just uh trying a new beard look. Guess I nicked myself.”

“Ah, well I suspect you’ve been working some charms regardless. Have a good lunch with Charlie, I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

Dean blinked slowly as he watched Rowena leave, waiting until she was gone before he made his way inside. Charlie was in her kitchen with two cups of coffee and lunch already waiting, making direct eye contact with Dean as she tapped at her imaginary watch and tsk’ed him.

“I think Rowena thinks I’m trying to cast love spells on someone.” He said as he sat down across from her. “Sorry about being late. Been a weird few days.”

“I can tell, you changed your beard.”

“Oh god is it that bad?”

Charlie shook her head. “I like it, it’s a little tough but not too mountain man if that makes sense. Would be fun if beard burn’s your thing I guess. But weird few days huh, that sounds interesting. I take it some shit went down on Halloween?”

“I’m feeling things, like weird things. Like I don’t know what these weird things are kind of weird things. No clue what they are or why they’re happening or how to deal but I can tell you they’re spacing me out to the point I nick myself shaving and wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow. “Is this something you should be talking to your therapist about instead of me? I wanna hear about your problems don’t get me wrong but like I’m not equipped to handle emotional bombs and you kind of have a habit of being a little trigger happy with those.”

“I’m gonna talk to her regardless so don’t worry about that but I don’t know man, I don’t fucking know. Probably yeah they’re bombs somehow but giving you a yes or a no would mean I know what’s happening and I don’t so we’re gonna just ride this fucking train together and see where it goes. That cool?”

“Yeah, that’s cool. So Halloween then, that’s when it went down. I thought you were supposed to stay home and just watch movies all night?”

“I was until Cas showed up in a costume and bullied me into going to Swayze’s with him for a while with the promise he’d come back to my place after so we could chill and watch movies. Totally fine and whatever but he walks upstairs into my bedroom like he owns the place and decides I’m going to be a slutty cowboy, like open flannel slutty. He fucking stuck his hands in my pants to tuck the shirt in Charles. Just straight up in the front of my pants.”

Charlie’s eyebrows nearly shot off of her face and she moved her drink away, knowing that any further attempt to hydrate would result in her choking. Dean had picked a hell of a way to introduce whatever was going on and she was invested. “So he dresses you up as a slutty cowboy and sticks his hands down your pants. Does this end with you two in bed? Because it sounds like it should.”

“No, he apologized and then we went to the bar. He said he should’ve asked and seemed really embarrassed and I was too and I mean I don’t really care that much that he dressed me up or like tucked the shirt in but like give a guy some warning if you’re gonna stick a hand in his pants, ya know?”

“Mhm, gotcha. So you go the bar and you’re both drinking and then what? Cuz obviously more happened or else you wouldn’t be here with crisis number like four since you’ve moved here.”

“So Cas leaves me to go dance which fine whatever and then some guy in a Dracula costume spills his drink on me. He buys me a drink to say sorry, we chat a bit, and then he hits on me. Hand on upper thigh save a horse ride a cowboy style ‘I’d like to ride tonight’ kind of hits on me.”

Charlie’s eyes narrowed, arms crossing over her chest. The pieces were beginning to fall into place but she hadn’t quite gotten the entire picture yet and felt like there was more Dean wasn’t telling her. “So a queer man, who I’m assuming was probably hot because I’ve seen the people who go to Swayze’s and they’re all hot, hits on you at a gay bar, and you’re freaking out? I don’t see the problem.”

“Well I didn’t know it was a gay bar! And I’m not being homophobic and I didn’t hate that he hit on me but I turned around and then Cas was there and he was fucking dancing with someone and I don’t know what the fuck he was doing but he was doing something with his hips and his shirt was like stuck to his chest and it was a lot. It was too much.”

That gave Charlie pause and Dean watched as something flashed behind her eyes, a fleeting recognition that scared him. It was never good when her gaze sharpened like that and it sucked even more when she clasped her hands together like she was in the middle of a business meeting. “So you were hit on while you were drunk and while put-off or flustered you saw one of your best friends dancing incredibly suggestively which made you feel some type of way to the point where I’m assuming you left the bar. That about right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay cool, glad we’ve established that. Anything else I need to know about? Because, like a mid-season finale, I feel like there’s so much more you need to tell me.”

Dean sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “He called me out on my mood and I broke. I told him about the whole fear of rejection thing, about how it started when I was a kid and then it got worse after high school and all that shit. I told him I wanted someone who notices the real me, that I want to be someone’s first choice. I told him everything, Charles.”

“And?”

“And he listened. He listened and he told me he’s staying and then made a joke about Rowena doing a blood pact and the entire time he’s just hugging me and we’re sprawled out on my couch and he’s just so warm and human and his arms are so tight around me and his heart is beating so loud in his chest so close to my ear. I just- he did all of that and he didn’t have to.”

Charlie nodded along as Dean spoke, quiet and reflective. It was as plain as Dean’s eyes were green what was happening but Dean couldn’t see it and while it would have been sweet years ago, now it was beginning to frustrate her. But a delicate approach was still required here, at least for the time being. “Sounds like he was really there for you, which was really sweet of him. He’s a pretty decent guy. Anything else happen aside from some alien taking you over and making you share your emotions unprompted?”

“He opened up to me too.”

“Did he talk about his past?” She asked, leaning forward. “Because Ro told me he never talks about that. Like she says that maybe aside from his kids, she might be the only person who knows everything.”

“He told me everything.”

“Woah, okay. That uh, that makes a difference. So he told you about his past after you talked about yours and he hugged you. Did you uh-”

“Arm around him with bicep squeezes and rubs.” Dean replied, images of that night flashing in his mind. The same feeling returned to his stomach for the briefest of moments, a light fluttering turning to a tingle as it entered his bloodstream and raced through his veins. “He said that nobody would like the real him, that nobody would want to know him. I told him that he was full of shit and that the real him was great and that I think he needed to get to know the real him.”

Charlie nodded her head, still digesting all of the information she had been given. Arranging the pieces on the bulletin board in her mind, the pattern and connection were more than clear. Any passerby with a passing knowledge of the two would see exactly what she was able to see. “Did he leave after you two had your chick flick moment?”

“Hey, you know how I feel about chick flick moments.” Dean replied, cracking a smile. “But no, he didn’t. We passed out on my couch. Woke up the next morning and I still had my arm around him, kind of fucked up my shoulder. You know he looks peaceful when he sleeps, it’s kind of weird. And he had this little curl and I kind of wanted to move it away which felt a little weird but I guess that’s just like a normal urge I have cuz I kind of wanted to kiss the top of his head when he was upset and telling me about his past.”

Charlie nearly bit through her tongue as she did her best to stop the first thought that came to mind from escaping her mouth. In her effort to remain diplomatic and exert her energy, she got to her feet. It was better she pace and gesture than try to sit in a chair and deal with Dean who was so blissfully unaware it had transcended painful.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah. You don’t need to ask if you can ask.” Dean said, confused.

“Do you think there is some tiny minute remote possibility that you just might possibly maybe be into, like sexually and romantically into, men?”

“Okay no, what the fuck, I’m not into men. I’m very much straight.” Dean replied, trying not to sound offended. “Also Ben told me this morning that he wouldn’t care if I was into men so do you two know something I don’t?”

Charlie, who had been with Dean through thick and thin and had seen many a great deal of things Dean had done, nearly lost. Her expression shifted through the five stages of grief, anger furrowing her brow before an almost comical bitter resignation unfurrowed it. With her lips all but vanished into her face, there was something mime-like about her and Dean scooted his chair back in alarm.

“Oh God, did I break you?” He mumbled, panicking. “This is the same look you had right after you kissed me in that utility shed. I don’t like this.”

Charlie looked at Dean with the manic energy of a university student fuelled by exam stress and redbull induced hallucinations, a single clipped laugh escaping her lips. Instead of pacing or gesturing wildly, she simply hopped up onto her kitchen counter and sat there to address Dean.

“I know exactly what’s happening to you, why it’s happening to you, and how to deal with it.”

“Tell me. Please.”

Charlie shook her head. “This is one of those things where you’re not gonna like the answer and you’re gonna be a stubborn pig-headed idiot about the entire thing so I’m no gonna tell you. I’ll help you because I’m not a monster but this is totally up to you. You’ve got homework if you want answers.”

“Great, you’re going fucking taskmaster on me. Awesome. What the fuck do I have to do?”

“Check in with yourself, that’s what you have to do. Take some alone time and check in with yourself, biblically if you know what I mean.” She said, accentuating with a crude hand gesture. “Examine your preferences: romantic, sexual, all of them. Then really examine how your dating has been going since you’ve been here and why it hasn’t been working. And just for shits and gigs, because I’m such a cruel best friend, think about Cas and all of your experiences with him. Think about why you like spending time with him, about why seeing him dance that way would make you act like that, about why you’d want to kiss his head or move that curl. Just really get in touch with yourself. Think you can do that?”

Dean stared at her, unblinking, as she spoke. She was serious about every word she spoke, no doubt about it, and he was trying to commit them to memory. It was rare to see her so irate and even rarer to see her refuse to give an answer so while he didn’t entirely understand her homework, he was going to do it. When she finished speaking, Dean wanted to ask her if they were still good for lunch but thought about it and chose not to.

In the end he left, thoroughly perturbed by her behaviour and the lack of answers. What the hell did Cas have to do with Dean getting to know himself biblically?

~

Cas was busy pruning his plum tree when he heard the voice. It was barely audible over the music playing in his earbuds but it was there and he sighed to himself, irate. Someone always wanted something when he was pruning it seemed. He pulled his earbuds out and turned around, expecting to see one of his kids.

Rowena was standing there instead, expression on her face one of curiosity and mild amusement. “What on earth have you done to our Dean? Poor dear’s just a bit peely-wally.”

“What did I do to him?” Cas muttered, dropping his pruning shears on the ground. “We need to talk about what the fuck he’s done to me. He’s got me fucking losing it.”

“Sounds like you two got a wee bit more than you bargained for on Halloween.”

Cas held up his thumb and pointer finger with an inch in between, expression tight as if to show that just maybe they’d gotten more than expected. He thought about denying it and telling Rowena to leave but he knew if he didn’t tell her than she’d probably hear it from Charlie and that that would be second hand information and even messier. As nice as Charlie was, relaying information from Dean was hardly reliable. “Do you want to come in for tea?”

“Of course I do. Can’t be appropriately nosey without it.”

Cas chuckled and abandoned his shears altogether, heading inside with Rowena. He busied himself with brewing a pot of jasmine tea, setting a plate of shortbread cookies next to the teapot on the table. As was customary with him and Rowena, he waited until the tea had steeped and they had both poured themselves a cup before he spoke.

“As you know, I go to Swayze’s for Halloween every year and I got Dean to join me this year. Completely fine event that doesn’t really matter that much except for the fact that something I did set him off and just completely soured his mood.” Cas began, deciding to be vague on the details unless prompted. “So we leave and decide to watch a movie at his place and the movie turns into him telling me his greatest fear and then letting me comfort him. Physically.”

“Oh?”

Cas knew the quirk of Rowena’s eyebrow well and even better, he knew how to read her expression. He knew when a twitch of her eyelid meant she was upset or a slight downturn in her lips meant she was disappointed but this expression he was seeing on her face, this was a new thing entirely. She’d set her cup and saucer down, eyes laser focused on Cas with a steely precision as she scanned his face. It was as if she stared into his very soul but her lips made no movement, nothing to indicate any sort of feeling. She was perfectly neutral and it alarmed him.

“Not sex, which is what I’m realizing that sounds like we did. We didn’t sleep together.” Cas said, almost too quick to overcorrect his statement. “It’s just everything else. Ro, I think we’re dating?”

“Context, tweetie-pie. I can read tea leaves, I can’t read minds.”

“We hang out all the time and it’s fine and cool but then he does things and they’re not platonic, I swear they’re not. Like he’ll look at me or get me to touch his arm to feel his new shirt but I swear to God it was just to feel up his muscles and then he’s all in my space feeling up my pendant and we’re sharing personal stories but none of that even matters because Halloween blows it all out of the fucking water. Granted I fucked up the entire dynamic but it was an accident.”

“Except you don’t mistakes.”

“With him I fucking do!” Cas muttered, throwing his hands up in the air. “I get tipsy and drag him to the bar because I can’t read the clues that say he doesn’t want to go but I force him to dress up as a slutty cowboy and he looked damn good but I shoved my hands down his pants to tuck his shirt in and that just fucked all kinds of shit up. We get there and it seems fine but then he tells me to go dance so I do but somewhere in that mess I dance with someone and he sees me and something happens and I find him outside and he’s all standoffish and pissed off. So we leave, which we agreed to do and I think I’ve totally fucked things up.”

“You put your hands down his pants? Down the front of his pants? Without asking down the front of his pants?”

“I apologized a million times for doing it because I know it was the wrong thing to do and he forgave me for it. He eventually forgave me for dragging him to the bar too and I really shouldn’t have but I just didn’t want to go alone and he liked Swayze’s the last like five times we’ve gone.”

“Yes but there’s a difference between an average Saturday night and Halloween night.” She said, returning to sipping at her tea. Cas’ frustration was evident and she didn’t need him to explain more about the bar to piece together the very obvious of what had happened there. It was what came after that had her curious. “So you leave Swayze’s and he’s standoffish which isn’t unreasonable. How does this translate into what he’s doing to you?”

“He told me his biggest fear, Ro. We sat on his couch and he poured out his fucking heart to me and I listened and I hugged him and I comforted him. He told me everything because he wanted someone to listen, because he needed someone who would get it. And I get it and it fucking broke my heart.”

Rowena nodded again, chewing her lip. “You’re easy to talk to Cas, that’s not all that surprising. Not with how close the pair of you have gotten. Neither is the physical comfort, that’s always how you’ve operated.”

“I told him, Ro.”

That caught her attention and she set her teacup down, hands folded together as she faced Cas. There was a renewed intensity in her gaze and a newfound surprise that she couldn’t quite seem to hide The phrase hung heavy in the air but there was no mistaking what Cas meant.

“You told him?”

“Everything. He’d shared everything and I wanted to and I was still a little tipsy and I felt comfortable and now he knows. It’s all high level but it’s there. Jimmy and my parents and the kids and the drugs and the sex and the non-profit and the rehab and all of it. And you know what, it felt fucking good.”

“How’d he take that slice of backstory? It’s not exactly the easiest thing to swallow.” She said, phrasing it plainly without being rude. Rowena knew what Cas had been through which was why she was trying her absolute damnedest to remain as neutral as possible. He never spoke about it, hell it took him almost four years of them being friends before he even broached the beginnings of it with her and here he was telling it all to Dean in under six months. It was shocking to say the least.

“He sat there and he listened and he comforted me.” Cas said, pausing to sip his tea. He stared at the cup, watching the loose leaves in the bottom. Watching them was easier than looking at Rowena. “It was the whole arm around the shoulder and comforting side lean, started right after I told him about rehab and Jimmy and Amelia and my parents.”

“See, opening up isn’t always a bad thing.”

Cas shrugged. “Guess not. I mean I told him he didn’t know the real me and that he wouldn’t like the real me because I’m kind of an impatient selfish asshole motivated by my base desires.”

“And judging by the fact you can’t look at me and you’re spinning out about our flannel clad friend, I’m assuming that didn’t land well with him.”

“He told me I was a good person in kind a forceful but really sweet way and then we just left it at that and ended up falling asleep cuddled up together on his couch but seriously Ro, I can’t keep living like this. Like every time I think it’s just platonic and that it’s all in my head he goes and does shit that doesn’t feel platonic and then I get confused and frustrated and it’s ridiculous.”

“I haven’t seen you spin out like this in a while.” She said, trying not to sound overly amused. “Haven’t seen you be this emotionally vulnerable with someone in a long time either. Dean must really be getting under your skin.”

“He’s just so infuriatingly genuine when he wants to be and I am a simple man. I cannot help that I want to kiss an infuriatingly genuine man.”

Rowena nodded her head, still amused. “Glad to know your issue hasn’t resolved itself in the slightest. This might be a moment of real character growth if you choose to lean into it and not run away from it like you’re so apt to do.”

“And I think that is your cue to leave because that is enough vulnerability for today and also I have to go pick up my kids.”

“Don’t be afraid of the gay feelings, tweetie-pie.” Rowena teased, making her way out of the house with Cas behind her. She offered him a small grin before she was on her way. Cas simply shook his head in disbelief.

Chapter Text

Rough-hewn brick scraped against Dean’s lower back as his shirt rode up, left hand scrabbling uselessly for purchase. His right arm wound around a neck, he felt his fingers curl around silky smooth locks of hair and he tugged. A soft groan echoed in his ear and that’s when he became aware of everything else. There was a leg slotted in between his own, thigh pressing and rubbing in all the right ways, and when he felt the press of lips at the junction of his jaw and his ear he nearly lost it.

“Don’t lose it on me now.” Chuckled the voice next to his ear and try as he might, Dean was too lost in whatever was happening to recognize it. He wound his arm tighter, curled his fingers harder, and finally brought his left hand to the person’s body.

It was met with a thin cotton t-shirt which he quickly slid his hand under, the skin underneath burning hot and pressing into his touch. Sliding his hand up with the expectation of curves, of anything that would tell him who his mystery makeout partner was, Dean was pleasantly surprised to find nothing but toned lean muscle.  It flexed as his partner pressed him harder against the wall and then Dean’s hand was trapped between their bodies as he pressed himself against his partner, reacting to a hand sliding down his back and into his jeans.

Nearly at once the touching stopped, lips hovering over Dean’s collarbone and his head thrown back so far all he could see was the brick wall behind him. He ached for his partner, for their lips and hands to return to his body and undress him, for whatever their little game was to continue. It’d been over a decade since he’d been touched like that and this person, judging by how achingly hard Dean was in his jeans, was an expert in their field.

“This is different.” His partner said, their voice sending zings down Dean’s spine as they trailed their hands down his sides and then down his thighs. Somewhere along the way there was the sound of a knee popping and some gentle swearing and then there were strong hands, somehow Dean just knew they were strong, deftly unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them down to his ankles.

Dean, chest heaving with anticipation and exhilaration, dared to look down at the person kneeling in front of him. Maybe it would be the blonde vet tech he’d had a few dates with, or some celebrity he’d always had a crush on, or his dream woman, or even some fictional character he’d never have a chance with. What he didn’t expect, glancing past the pink satin covered bulge, was a familiar pair of blue eyes and crooked smile.

“You didn’t have to wear these just for me.”

Dean woke with a start, legs tangled in the sheets and arms swinging as he tried to free himself from the mess of sheets on his bed. There was a pained meow somewhere in the distance, a thud following, and Dean was sure Spork had fallen from the bed but he was also too distracted to give the cat much thought. He was far too concerned with his current state.

Dean couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a dream like that and he definitely couldn’t remember the last time he’d woken up feeling unfulfilled because of it. Sliding out of bed proved to be a challenge when the sheets stuck to his sweaty skin and he spent several minutes peeing them away, leaving them in a ball at the side of the bed. “Fuck this is ridiculous.” He muttered to himself, trudging out of the bedroom and to the bathroom. A cold shower would solve this problem.

The shower did little in the way of easing Dean’s mind, though it did serve to ease the erection he'd woken up with, and when he realized it was close to midnight and that he wasn’t tired, he settled in for the long haul. Ben was gone for the weekend so he had the house to himself and planned to make good use of it. Padding down to the kitchen, Dean rummaged around in the fridge for a midnight snack. When he turned around, assortment of deli meats and cheeses in hand, Spork was right there on the counter and Dean sighed at him again.

“I’d kill to be you, Spork.” He mumbled, sliding the cat a piece of salami.  “I’m pretty sure you don’t have weird sex dreams that uh might maybe be about your best friend which is like a whole thing. And the neighbour best friend, not the lesbian friend who turned you into a communist friend.”

Spork looked at Dean and the salami before accepting the offering, gnawing on it. Dean, deciding the impromptu charcuterie board wasn’t enough of a snack, pulled a bottle of whisky from the fridge and decided to indulge. Hell, if confusing sex dreams weren’t a good enough reason to drink then there would never be a good enough reason to drink.

“You know, I’m not saying I’ve got anything against the guy cuz yeah objectively I could see him being a good lay or partner or whatever but he’s a dude.” Dean began, sitting down at the counter with the snacks and the bottle to lay out his thoughts on his captive audience. “I mean he’s got the tall dark and handsome thing going on which is great and I love the whole down to earth farm thing and the blue eyes and maybe the dad thing is also kind of hot but it’s also like the whole man thing.”

Spork finished his salami and began to lick his paws, still staring at Dean as if to prompt him to continue. Dean continued, emboldened by another sip of whisky.

“Okay, so Charlie and my therapist are both telling me to examine my preferences and I’m fine to do that. Like I know what I like physically and like yeah I guess Cas checks those boxes but also the whole man thing like unchecks most of those I think? If we’re speaking non-physical then I want someone who’s funny and kind and knows how to have fun but who’s also smart and down to earth and gets me and that sounds like a lot now that I’m thinking about it. But Cas is like that, I mean really like that.”

With the salami gone, Spork was back on the prowl and he made his way toward Dean and the snacks. He debated before making off with a piece of ham and a slice of swiss cheese, returning to his spot. Dean shook his head, mildly amused.

“What do you think his type is?” Dean asked Spork, downing his fourth sip of whisky. The warmth burned the back of his throat and with a dawning frustration, Dean was beginning to tie the warmth in his stomach with the appearances of Cas. “Because I’ve seen Meg so I know he’s got a thing for dark hair and scary women and I’m pretty sure him and Rowena have fucked and I wouldn’t be surprised if him and Benny and Lee have done shit but like they’re all so different so I don’t know if I fit his type? Like I don’t even know what I really look like?”

Spork stared at Dean again, slow blinking as if deliberating. A few moments of silence passed before Spork jumped down from the counter and ran off, something that filled Dean with dread. A cat alone in the house was never good. He cleaned up the snacks as quickly as he could, though he took the whisky with him, and followed the cat through the house. The pair ended up back in Dean’s bedroom and it was as he entered that another terrible idea entered his brain.

Right there in his nightstand, nestled in the back left corner underneath a pair of batman boxers, sat the pink satin panties that had plagued his dreams. It would be so easy to pull the drawer open and to slip into them, to see what they’d really feel like, but the creeping tendrils of shame were very quick to wrap around that idea and drag it down. But Spork was there and causing problems, pawing open the nightstand drawer with surprising efficiency.

“Don’t you dare, you orange fucking menace.” Dean hissed, setting the whisky on his armoire before closing the gap. He managed to scoop up Spork and remove the cat from his room before any harm was done. With the cat gone, the problem still remained and the longer Dean stared the more unsure he felt. In the end, the whisky won out and for the first time since he was twenty Dean put on a pair of pink satin panties.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” Dean mumbled to himself, taking a few more sips of the whisky before planting himself firmly in front of the bedroom mirror. Dr. Moseley and Charlie had both told him to take a long hard look at himself and his preferences and while they hadn’t exactly suggested getting drunk and doing it in a mirror at 1 am, there was nothing saying he couldn’t. Two birds, one stone, and all that jazz. “But hey, when in Rome.”

The light from the fixture cast long shadows over Dean as he stood there and he turned his head to the side, eyeing the hard lines of his jaw and his newly maintained scruff. He liked the look, a nice balance between clean shaven and mountain man that he hoped came across as well-maintained lumberjack. Dean even liked the crookedness of his nose, though the memories of the few times it’d been broken and healed improperly were less than pleasant.

As Dean’s eyes trailed down his neck in his reflection, he felt the fluttering return. He knew what it was now, that motion turning to heat in his veins, and he closed his eyes, trying to pull the memory of the dream forward. It snapped taut like a rubber band and he swore he could feel lips ghost against his neck and collarbone, eyes flicking open.

“Okay, this is totally normal. Nothing wrong with this.” He told himself, eyes scanning further down his reflection. They slid down his torso and settled on his next target: his stomach and hips. Dean was a victim of dad bod, though he imagined Charlie would say he was less of a victim and  more of someone blessed with it, but she was a lesbian so what did she really know about what people found attractive about the male body. It was fine, Dean shrugged as he ran a hand across his stomach, the kind of pudge that he could correct if he really felt like committing to the gym but it really didn’t bother him enough for that to seem feasible. Besides, he’d never minded if his partners had had a little extra cushioning to hold or feel so it seemed a bit hypocritical if he’d be hard on himself over it.

His finger snagged on the waistband of the panties and he swallowed thickly, anxious. There was nothing wrong with what he was doing, deep down he knew that, but years of repression in the name of raising Ben meant that any expression was daunting. Expression like this, so outward, so tangible, felt insurmountable. But Dean pressed on, allowing himself to imagine what someone else might think if they were to see what he wore.

Would they think he was bold and sexy for wearing them? Would they come up behind him and tug them down or feel him up? There were a million and one ways to react and Dean was doing his best to ignore the bad ones.  He knew how Lisa would’ve reacted, the way she would’ve berated him and torn him to shreds before leaving. She’d have hated it, have hated how feminine it was, how it took away from whatever few morsels about him she did seem to love. But this wasn’t about Lisa and Dean’s mind was already drifting back to the dream and to Cas.

“You wouldn’t mind at all, would you? You’d probably make some stupid joke about me looking pretty in pink or something.” Dean mumbled, making himself flush red. He snagged his thumbs in the lacy band of the panties and, closing his eyes, imagined it was someone else taking them off. Cas, of course, came to mind. The removal was slow, deliberate, thumbs pulling down as his hands ghosted over the faint stretched lines of 29 year old burn scars. Shuddering, though Dean couldn’t tell from what, he tugged the panties down past his knees and then off his ankles. His breath came in short movements and when he stared at himself in the mirror for the first time, he truly saw himself.

He saw all of the physical attributes but more than that, he saw the person he wanted to be. He saw the man who wanted to be loved and who wanted to try new things and who wanted to explore with someone until he found what made him tick. There was an eagerness and excitement to it all and, buzz from the whisky aside, he was going to indulge. Dean stepped from the mirror to his bed, falling back on it with a short breathless laugh like he was a teenager and discovering the wonders of his right hand all over again.

“Come on old reliable, don’t fail me this time.” He said as he reached for his phone, pulling up a video he had relied on for years and years. Both actors in it fit the bill, dark hair and stormy eyes and none of that fake over-enhanced crap he couldn’t stand. Everything from bush to balls was completely natural.

The video began as it always did and Dean began as he always did, a little bit of lube to slick up his hand as he focused on the pair making out. Usually his eyes would slide down the woman’s neck to the heave of her breasts and go from there but the night was full of surprises and Dean found his attention drawn elsewhere.

The male actor’s nose was nearly identical to Cas’, the same strong profile evident as his lips slid down her neck and Dean found himself wondering what that would feel like. Of course Cas regularly wore chapstick so his lips would be soft, maybe coconutty but Dean hadn’t seen the label so he wasn’t sure. Then there were the man’s hands and his arms, the same lean athletic build as Cas and Dean was curious as to what that might feel like. He arched his body subconsciously, groaning quietly when it changed the angle of his hand, as he imagined what it might feel like to have the firm lines of Cas’ body pressed against his. A woman’s body was soft, it had padding and curves and things to squeeze but a man, Cas, had none of that. And Dean knew he really shouldn’t be thinking of Cas like this but there really weren’t any other men to place these feelings on and besides, Cas was into men so he probably wouldn’t mind. Besides, what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Eyes fully glued to the man in the video now, Dean continued to work his hand as he watched the woman blow him. Every time before this he’d imagine he was on the receiving end but this time was different and he found himself wondering what it would be like to give one. Would his jaw hurt? Would his teeth get in the way? Where would his tongue go? How would it all fit in his mouth? But it seemed like a fun challenge too and Dean’s hand sped up as he closed his eyes, imagining himself on his knees. His hands gripped the firm thighs he’d seen far too many times in the garden next door and his mouth worked, jaw aching and lips slick with spit as he glanced up at Cas through fluttering lashes. Cas had tossed his head back and Dean couldn’t see much aside from his chin and the end of his nose but the noises he imagined (helped in part with the noises from the video) were enough to send him over the edge.

Dean came with a sharp gasp of surprise, spilling into his hand. It had been an accident, uncharacteristically early, and somehow that was more embarrassing than the fantasy of blowing the friendly neighbour across the way who he wasn’t supposed to be attracted to because he was straight. Dean whacked at his phone until the video turned off and then very carefully made his way to the bathroom to clean up, staring at himself in the mirror.

“What did you just do, you idiot.” He mumbled, post-orgasm high riddled with anxiety. “Straight guys don’t fucking jerk it to fantasies of their friends. So are you just, am I just- am I not straight? Because I guess Ben thinks so and Charlie probably does cuz she’s being a shifty asshole about all of this.”

There was a meow at his feet and then Spork was jumping onto the bathroom counter, walking in front of Dean and headbutting his torso demanding pets. Dean obliged, picking up the cat and petting him as a distraction. “Clearly I’ve got a thing for Cas, I think, cuz that fantasy was sure as fuck not a platonic one. So what’s happening Spork? Am I the last one to find this shit out?”

Spork meowed and settled down in Dean’s arms, happy to be carried back to Dean’s room where he took up residence on Dean’s unused pillow. It was his go to sleeping spot when Ben wasn’t home. Dean, who was entirely too wired to sleep, paced his bedroom for a few minutes before he ran smack dab into the wall of shame that he’d built for himself after what he’d done. It sent him reeling and running for his phone. He sent an sos text to Charlie and waited, chewing his nails impatiently. Fifteen minutes later he sent another and then 45 minutes after the original text he called her.

When Charlie heard the first chime of her phone, she sighed into the dim lighting of her bedroom. She’d been wined and dined by Rowena for the past two hours and was just now, finally, getting to the good part. Topless and tipsy, she was distracted by Rowena’s lips on her neck and her hand deftly tying shibari rope across her body. It was a new experience and one she was thoroughly enjoying.

“I do believe I heard your phone dinging.” Rowena chuckled, withdrawing her lips and her hands as she sat back to admire her handiwork. Lipstick marks and mussed hair aside, the pentagram harness was some of her best work. “Shall we see who it is?”

“It’s Dean, Cas is out of town for that business conference and Ben’s gone for the weekend so he’s lonely. Just ignore it, he’s probably bitching about the cat. Or about the homework I gave him.”

Rowena raised an eyebrow, intrigued. She paused to shrug off her blouse and reach for more rope, taking the new bundle to her arms and hands. “Do enlighten me.”

“He’s freaking the fuck out about a lot of things so I told him to check in with himself biblically to figure it out. Could’ve told him the answer but that ruins it.” Charlie shrugged, leaning forward to give Rowena better access and so she could kiss her girlfriend’s neck.

Rowena shook her head, amused. The pair continued on, interrupted in removing their bottoms by the second text which Charlie was certainly going to ignore considering her hands were bound behind her back and completely unusable unless she chose to untie the binding knot. It was only when Rowena was face deep between Charlie’s thighs that her phone began to ring and Charlie swore under her breath.

“Two texts and a call, I gotta take it.” She said, letting Rowena know to stop. Rowena stopped and reached for Charlie’s phone, answering it so she could have enough time to free her hands.

“Charlie’s phone, hello Dean. She’s a little tied up at the moment but I can take a message.”

Charlie shot Rowena an embarrassed glare but pecked her on the cheek before taking the phone from her, trying to sound as apologetic as possible. “I am so sorry, you caught us at a bad time. Is everything okay?”

“I interrupted, oh I’m really sorry. I can just call back later when you’re done, it’s totally fine, Not that big of a deal really.” Dean mumbled, embarrassment clear as day through the phone.

Rowena leaned in closer so she could hear what the pair were talking about, curious. As she did so, she decided to be cheeky and kiss at Charlie’s neck. It wasn’t enough to do anything but it was enough to be distracting and judging by the way Charlie reached out to grab Rowena’s thigh and steady herself, it was working.

“Dude, it’s fine, don’t worry about. I doubt you would’ve called at like almost 2 am if you weren’t freaked out. So what’s going on? Is this like a ‘one of us needs to come see the other’ situation?”

“Yeah. Remember that homework you gave me?”

“Mhm.”

“I did it.”

That’s all Charlie needed to hear to know exactly what she was going to see when she finally saw Dean. “Okay, good to know. You can come here if you want, might be good to get out of the house. Do you want me to get Ro to leave?”

Another paused followed by a thud and Charlie assumed Dean and banged into a dresser in the dark trying to find some pants. “Actually, I kind of want her to stay. I think she’s got a perspective we don’t and I need so much fucking help. I’ll see you guys in 45, I’m gonna bring donuts to say sorry for interrupting and also for showing up at almost 3 am.”

“Raspberry jam filled ones are Ro’s favourites, fyi. See you in a bit.” With that Dean hung up and Charlie shook her head, turning back to Ro with an expression caught somewhere between concern and extreme self-satisfaction. “Have you ever seen a grown man be the last to know about his sexuality and have a crisis about it?”

“I’ve caused a few.” She chuckled, closing the gap between her and Charlie. “I take it Dean’s finally starting to figure out his feelings for our resident angel?”

Charlie nodded her head, debating for a moment before pulling Rowena onto her lap. “Last to know and everything. Hell, even Cas knows he’s attracted to Dean. I gave him advice about Dean back in October just before we started dating. I think he wants your advice on how to deal with the Cas of it all.”

“I don’t think he’ll like my advice but I’ll offer it.” She said, winding her arms around Charlie’s neck. “I heard mention of donuts.”

“They’re an apology for the interruption and the 3 am house call. We’ve got 50 minutes, think we can finish up here?”

Rowena didn’t dignify that with an answer, choosing instead to kiss Charlie.

Dean showed up at 3 am with a box of donuts, 3 coffees, and the confusion of a science student who found out that a sociology course wasn’t an easy A because a social science was a real science. Coffees stacked on the box of donuts, he knocked and shifted on the balls of his feet as he waited. This was swiftly becoming less and less of a good idea and the longer he was outside in the late November air, the more uncomfortable he grew.

Charlie answered the door, dressed in a tee and shorts and stepped aside to let Dean inside. “Hey, come on in. We weren’t sure where you were gonna be comfy talking so we can do kitchen or living room, whatever you want.”

“Well you’re gonna learn real quick that I apparently can’t make up my mind so decisions really shouldn’t be left up to me. I did remember the donuts and coffee though, least I could do. I’m really really sorry about interrupting, I completely forgot you guys were having dinner and then I forgot about how long the whole like lesbian sex thing goes.”

“Donuts make up for any interruptions, don’t worry.” Rowena said as she appeared from the kitchen to the right, taking the donuts and coffee from Dean. “We’ll be sitting in the living room. The kitchen chairs are much too hard and while I didn’t hear the entire conversation, I suspect you’d benefit from things being softer.”

“God I fucking hate my life.”

“Drama queen much.” Charlie teased before grabbing Dean’s wrist and leading him to the living room. She got him to sit in the armchair while she and Rowena got comfortable on the couch, her legs tucked up so she could lean against Rowena. “So you took my homework advice and got to know yourself biblically then.”

Dean nodded his head, reaching for a Boston cream and a coffee. Drowning his feelings in carbs and caffeine felt appropriate. “I wasn’t going to but uh, I had a dream. Like a sexy dream. And that dream made me really confused and then I felt like I had to kind of do your homework because my therapist is also making me do it and then one thing led to another and then our mall shopping trip purchase got involved and then it got weird and here I am.”

“I take it someone’s bewitching your dreams then.” Rowena said, wrapping an arm around Charlie. “Might it have anything to do with the sudden style change we’ve all been witnessing?”

Dean stared down into his coffee, silence damning.

“He came to me just after Halloween basically saying that he was having all of these really confusing feelings about someone who we all know and that he didn’t know what they were or what they meant or how to deal with them, I told him I knew the answer but that he needed to figure it out before I gave him any advice.” Charlie explained. “Clearly he’s figured them out.”

Rowena, who was knee deep in this mess from the other side, nodded along. She’d wondered which of them would crumble first and it looked like Dean had. It was easier that way, truthfully, and she was thankful she was embedded enough to be able to meddle from both sides. “How fiery was the dream? Are we privy to that information? Because I know everything else from the other side, if my assumption about our mutual friend is correct.”

“It was completely fine, just like a standard makeout against a bar wall until I look down and then he’s just there unbuttoning my pants. Kind of woke up after that one.” Dean admitted, face as red as his friends’ hair. “I completely would’ve fucking ignored it but then Charlie’s words got in my head and then I started thinking and thinking leads to doing and being home alone lead to some drinking and drinking lead to self-exploration which lead to y'know which lead to doing y'know and then maybe kind of getting off thinking about him.”

Charlie clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes as wide as silver dollars. “Oh my god Dean, I told you to get in touch with yourself biblically. I didn’t tell you to jerk it thinking about him. That’s completely one hundred percent a choice you made.”

“I hardly think you’re in a position to judge the poor man given the state of you half an hour ago.” Rowena said, coming to Dean’s defence. Her tone was firm but amused and it seemed to match her body language quite well. She’d handled her fair share of crises back in the day and this wasn’t anything new, not by her standards. Waiting until Dean was finally able to look up at them, she tried to offer him a gentle smile of encouragement. “Which part is giving you more trouble: the man or the fact it’s our Cas?”

“Well I’ve never wanted to fuck a man before so uh that, I guess.”

“It loses its appeal quickly, I’ll give you that.” Rowena chuckled.

Charlie, who had been listening, pursed her lips. “So you don’t care that it’s Cas? You’re literally just hung up on the man thing? That’s it?”

“I know you’re trying to be supportive but it feels mocking when you say it like that. But yeah, the man thing is freaking me out. Like you’ve known you’re a lesbian for the last two decades so you’ve had so much to get used to this and Cas has known about his sexuality since high school and so have Benny and Lee and so have everyone else. Hell, even Cas’ kids have this shit figured out. There are literal 16 year olds who have this shit figured out so it’s a little fucking stupid that a 33 year old man with a whole ass house and kid and career doesn’t know which way is fucking up.”

At this point Rowena rose from her position on the couch and made her way to the armchair, perching on the arm like a bird. Dean, whose heart beat so fast in his throat he thought to was going to phase right through his skin, turned his head to glance up at her. For all of her supposed neutrality and practiced poise, Rowena allowed herself to look surprisingly vulnerable. There was no air of pity or amusement in her expression but one of understanding.

“I was 38 the first time I realized I was attracted to women.” She said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. “And if you make a comment about how good I look for my age I will slap you upside the head.”

“No comment, please continue.”

Rowena nodded. “As I was saying, it took me an incredibly long time to figure things out and we as people assume we have to do things in this made up time limits but we don’t because the made up time limits are just that, made up. No one dictates you have to have your sexuality figured out by 18 or have met your life partner by 30 or have had kids by 35 or any of that. It’s all societal pressure and bullshit. There’s nothing wrong with you just figuring things out now.”

“She’s not wrong.” Charlie agreed. “And I didn’t mean to be judgy, I’m sorry. I just wasn’t expecting it to be so intense like right off the bat.”

“Neither was I.”

“Well now that we know you’re maybe definitely into him and maybe into other men, do you wanna date him? Does he even date?”

“That’s complicated.” Dean and Rowena said at the same time, both eyeing each other like two wary cats.

She made her way back to the loveseat to perch on the arm, mulling over everything she had learned. Knowing her suspicions about Dean were right meant she had several options. She could go to Cas and tell him everything but that would betray the obvious trust Dean was placing in her and, as much as she liked causing chaos, that was too much chaos and the potential for harm was too great. Of course telling Cas nothing was also an option but leaving the pair stewing in their misery was going to be more painful than it was worth, like a trip to the dentist without insurance. In the end, the best thing to do would be somewhere in the middle. She could feed information to Cas and coordinate with Charlie if need be. That would work best.

“I’m not going to say anything to him, don’t worry yourself about that. It’s not my place.” Rowena reassured.

Dean nodded his head, grateful. “Thanks, ‘preciate it. I’m just, I don’t know what the fuck’s going on so there’s no way in hell I want to bring any of this up to anyone else yet. I just- I needed to tell someone and Charlie obviously already knew and my kid apparently knew I was into men which probably means Cas’ kids know too and there’s no way in hell the other neighbors don’t so I’m really the last one figuring this out aren’t I?”

“Yeah, kind of. We all noticed months ago. Well I noticed when I met Cas for the first time and I think Ro noticed a little before then.”

“So I’m not going insane then. We’re all collectively agreeing that I have a thing for Cas at the very least and that it’s cool and fine and no big deal and that no one hates me for it?”

“Pretty much, yeah. I dunno about Ro but I know that after the shit time you’ve had since you’ve moved here, I just want you to be happy and if that means you exploring who you are and figuring out things about yourself then I’m here to support you. Besides, I kind of like Cas. He’s a little grumpy but he’s nice enough.”

“Good on you for exploring, that’s all I have to say. If you ever find yourself lost, I’ve got lots of remedies available at the shop. Don’t be a stranger, Dean.” Rowena smiled before she took Charlie into the kitchen for a quick private conversation.

Dean felt nothing as he sat there and finished his coffee and donut save for the fading buzz of the whisky he had consumed but the second he had nothing to distract himself the flood of emotions came rushing back. He’d long flown past the shame of what he’d done and he was far too tired to be angry at himself for it either. What came out was a bittersweet acceptance tinged with regret. Everyone said figuring out who you were was supposed to be exciting but this wasn’t exciting, this was awful. This was exhausting and life changing and it sucked.

“You’re getting scared aren’t you?” Charlie asked as she made her way back into the living room, handing Dean a cup of tea. “Ro’s gone home, figured you might feel more comfortable talking if it was just us two.”

“I just don’t know what it means. This whole thing with Cas. And I don’t know if it means I even feel like this about other men either. Like I said, it’s completely new.”

“Don’t even think about the other men angle right now, ‘kay? Cuz that’s just gonna be way too overwhelming for your brain to try and process right now. Just admit to yourself that you’re attracted to Cas and would be interested to see if something comes from it. That’s the biggest scariest step.”

“I thought I liked spending time with him because we were friends but then all these little things happened and I’ve spent the last like three hours fine tooth combing over everything and holy fuck it’s bad. Why the fuck didn’t you say anything?”

“And risk you losing your shit on me like you kind of did when I said you might not be straight? I may be impulsive but I’m not suicidal. Besides, you got there in the end. Still can’t believe you got off thinking about him.”

“I will kill you if you tell anyone about that.” Dean muttered, staring at his cup of tea.

“Not planning on telling anyone, don’t worry. But between the two of us, I’ve been told Cas is into some like hard-core kinky shit so he’d probably be pretty flattered by that. Just in case you want to use that for future flirting material.”

“I regret telling you that.”

“Bit late for that.” She chuckled. “I’m gonna grab some blankets so we can set the couch up for you cuz you’re not going home to sleep for the rest of the night and no way in hell you’re gonna wanna sleep in the bed after the shit that was done before you got here.”

“I feel like I shouldn’t ask but I’m going to anyway. What exactly did I interrupt when I called?”

Charlie, returning from the linen closet with an armful of blankets, simply grinned. “Rope, that’s what. She tied me up like a prize fucking pig and I swear to God it was like the hottest thing a partner’s ever done. So I’ve got rope and you’ve got pink panties. What a pair we are.”

“Okay well if you’re being hog tied by your age gap lover then maybe my slightly x-rated sexuality crisis sex dreams aren’t so bad.” Dean said, laughing quietly as he set the empty mug down. There was a momentary pause before he glanced back at Charlie, expression unsure. “I um, this is a lot for me and I know we’re friends and friends help each other out but you’re not obligated to keep helping me out as much as you do so I really appreciate it. You’ve always been there and I don’t always make it easy.”

“I love you too.” She replied, leaning in for a quick hug. “Now I’m going to bed because I’m tired as hell. I’ll make breakfast in the morning, you still take your eggs over easy?”

“Yup.”

“Cool, night Dean.”

“Night Charles.”

Chapter Text

“You’re not moving so hot this morning, wake up on the wrong side of the bed?” Dean asked as he made his way over the fence that separated his yard and Cas’. He’d planned on bringing Cas a cup of coffee that morning to kickstart a conversation, a terrifying notion ever since he’d begun to process the events of his tipsy night alone, but the lack of typical movement had halted that.

Normally Cas would be bent over his bed of carrots or harvesting from his strings of beans or gourds, practically leaping around his garden like king of the plants. But there was no leaping and there certainly was no royal air about the way he moved. It was slow, stunted, every movement deliberate and calculated as if Cas had to think about what he was doing. One foot step in front of the other, Cas’ focus broke when he heard Dean’s voice and he stumbled. He hit the dirt with a thud.

“Motherfucker!”

“Shit, sorry. Are you good?” Dean mumbled, debating if he’d be able to hop the fence if he needed to.

Cas, face down in what was left of his patch of kale, groaned and held up a middle finger.

“Okay yeah, fair. I’m gonna grab coffee for you and let you get up in dignity so I’ll be right back.” Dean chuckled, excusing himself. Best to give the other man time to fix his wounded pride.

Cas was upright and leaning against the fence when Dean returned, brows knit together in irritation. There was something else too, a subtle pinch in the set of his mouth that Dean knew all too well. Cas was hurting, that kind of bone deep joint ache you hid because you didn’t want someone to tell you to sit down and take a load off because you already knew you were supposed to be doing that.

“You’ve got a little…” Dean said, gesturing vaguely at his face with hands full of coffee.

“Do I now? Almost as if someone scared the ever living fuck out of me while I was trying to harvest my fucking parsnips.” Cas mumbled, wiping at his face with the back of a dirty sleeve. It smeared the dirt further across his cheek. “Is it gone?”

Dean shook his head.

“Welp, time for your chick flick moment. I’ll take my coffee from you,” Cas said as he took his designated mug from Dean’s hand, “and you can wipe it off for me. We can both pretend that this is a totally normal and platonic thing to do and not fucking weird and now you probably think I’m insane for bringing this up and I might be but you know what, I just faceplanted into my fucking kale and I haven’t my coffee yet so I’m entitled to have a bit of a bitch moment.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, folding both of his hands around his coffee mug and making no move to wipe the smear of dirt off of Cas’ cheek. He wanted to, not that he’d admit it. A chick flick moment could be the exact in he needed  to do whatever the fuck he was going to do to take the next step in figuring out whatever the fuck him and Cas were but this wasn’t the time or the place. Not with Cas glaring daggers into the coffee like he wanted to murder it.

“So which of your kids pissed you off this morning?”

Cas glanced up at Dean and remained silent, drinking half of the peace offering coffee before he spoke. There was an edge to his voice, a bit of grit that wasn’t typically present. “Neither, believe it or not. And you’re not a kid so you don’t count.”

“I’m sorry okay, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just coming out for the normal morning coffee and then I was gonna ask you for a favour sort of and then you just looked wrong.” The speed at which Cas raised his eyebrow and shift his expression into one that seemed to stare right through Dean was enough to make shrink in his boots and puff up all at once, a confusing mix of emotions pooling in the pit of his stomach. It felt like a match floating on top of gasoline and Dean knew there could be a spark. That would be fun to unpack in therapy. “Let me rephrase: you looked like you were hurting and you were hiding it because you had shit you needed to do. And I get it, trust me I fucking get it. Just got me a little concerned’s all.”

The fight drained out of Cas’ chest and his shoulders slumped, expression sagging until he looked as tired as he must’ve felt. “It’s not a big deal, happens every year. Starts in the fall, gets real bad in the winter, sucks in the spring, and it’s fine in the summer. Just didn’t think it’d be that bad this morning.”

“From the accident, right? Your legs?”

“Yeah. Legs from toe to hip and lower back, fucking great.” he mumbled, polishing off the cup of coffee. “And I’m sure you’re asking yourself ‘why doesn’t he take something for the pain if it gets that bad’ and we both know the answer is because giving an addict in recovery opioids is about as good an idea as giving a small child a fully functional chainsaw.”

“Yeah but knowing you, you’ve got all these naturopathic remedies and other rituals you’ve probably developed to help deal with the pain. Especially if you’ve lived with it for so long. You done any of ‘em yet?”

“I haven’t even had coffee yet so no, I haven’t gone through my ‘your guide to feeding and caring for your almost middle aged recovering addict Dad’ yet. Besides I’ve got too much shit to do today and quite honestly, I usually get Rowena to help me with it because it hurts too much to do myself.”

Dean nodded along, using the excuse of finishing his coffee as a few extra minutes to think. He didn’t have much to do that day so if he really wanted to, he could probably help Cas out. The garden part would be easily accepted but it was the other part that would be tricky. Cas would probably fight him on it, doing the whole ‘I want your help but I have to do the polite thing and decline a few times before saying yes’ thing that everyone above the age of thirty seemed to do. In the end he might give in but Dean had no idea what he did or how intimate it would be and that might cross several boundaries and that alone was a whole headache. But Cas was a friend and he was hurting and the answer was clear.

“Let me help you out today. With the garden and the stuff Ro normally does.”

That caught Cas’ attention and he cocked his head to the side, studying Dean. “You want to help with the garden and with my pain management? You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. Aside from the fact I feel really bad I made you faceplant this morning, it’s the least I can do considering how much you’ve helped me out since I’ve moved here. You do so much for everyone so let someone do something for you.”

“If you want to kneel in the dirt and pull root vegetables, far be it from me to stop you.” Cas said, hoping his tired smile showed how grateful he was. “I’ll put some more coffee on for us and I’ll feed you lunch, that sound good?”

“Sounds like I’ll have my work clothes on and be back out in ten.”

With that Dean collected their empty mugs and returned home, setting them in the sink. He made quick work of changing into stained jeans and a rattier flannel and stopped in the kitchen to write a note on the whiteboard in the kitchen to let Ben know where he would be for the day before he headed out. Cas was just shuffling back outside, still wrapped in his blue housecoat but with two large mugs of coffee. He set the mugs down on a small table in the back before lowering himself into a chair with a wince, watching as Dean wandered over.

“Ready for your list?”

“Lay it on me.”

“Three bunches of kale, half a row of carrots, parsnips, and potatoes, and two stalks of Brussel sprouts plus whatever non wormy fruit you happen to find littered around the trees. Think you can handle that?”

“I’m raising a teenage boy, I’m sure I can handle a wormy apple or two.” Dean chuckled, taking a sip of coffee before getting to work. His knees creaked as he crouched down in the garden and began to root around for the vegetables and he bit back a quiet swear. The weather wasn’t the kindest to his joints either.

Cas watched Dean for a little bit, hugging his knees up to his chest to alleviate some of the tension in his hips. “Earlier you said you had some sort of favour you were hoping to ask me for. What’s all that about?”

“Just wanted to see if you’d be willing to spare some carrots and potatoes for thanksgiving.” Dean said, using the conversation as an opportunity to take a break. “My mom was supposed to host but Sam’s moving down here with Jess so everything’s chaotic and now I’m supposed to host and they’re not really gonna cook so now it’s all on me.”

“Oh god do they know your track record?”

“See that’s what I said but it doesn’t matter. Anyways, that goes into part two of the whole thing and that’s that I don’t know what you and the kids do for thanksgiving but you’re welcome to come to ours. Might save us all from food poisoning if you do to be completely honest.”

“Are you a Friday or a Saturday celebration household because I can’t do the Friday.”

“Saturday. Won’t do the Friday, too much crazy shit and I’ve already got plans. Saw that you guys need volunteers to help with the thanksgiving soup kitchen so I signed up. Roped the kid into helping too, thought it would do him some good to give back.” Dean said, returning to rooting around in the dirt for the potatoes. “I figure I can take care of the turkey and most of the veg and whatnot but if you’d be willing to help a guy out with stuffing and a dessert that would be great. I think mom’ll bring a pumpkin pie and Sam will bring some health conscious crap or something. Charlie usually brings something with yams and it’s not great but we all kind of swallow it down.”

There was a rush of warmth in Cas’ stomach at the mention of Dean volunteering and he had to swallow it down, forcing himself to focus on anything but the feeling he knew was budding into more than friendship. It wasn’t the time or the place but damn Dean was making it hard to ignore, especially when he kept being sweet and doing good natured things like he rooting around in the parsnip patch. “I think I can manage stuffing and a dessert. Speaking of food, I’m thinking meatloaf for lunch? Might be good with some of the veg you just pulled.”

“No complaints here.” Dean nodded, rising to his feet. He brushed the dirt from himself before reaching for the basket, cradling it much like you would a small child. “Show me inside and tell me what the next part of your routine is.”

Cas eased himself out of the chair, not bothering to hide the discomfort on his face as his joints cracked in protest. Keeping up the pretense was more effort than it was worth. The walk into his place was slow, an unintentional limp on his part as he relied on his better leg to keep most of his weight. “I promise it’s not normally this bad this early and I’m not normally this much of a baby, I must’ve just done too much. You can set the basket in the sink if you want.” He said, leaning against the kitchen counter to give himself a break.

“Your right side the bad side then?”

“Yeah. Kinda took the brunt of the injury.” He mumbled. “I default to a cane when it gets like this, sometimes crutches, but I lost the cane and even if I had it it’s too small. One of those great things where I’m just a little too tall for the max range of the conventional sizing and I don’t exactly use it enough to justify spending money to get one customized.”

Dean blinked at Cas, shaking his head. “Bullshit dude. You gotta prioritize shit like that, especially if you’ve got kids. You’re what, like 5’11.5 or 6 foot on a good day?”

“6 feet according to my licence but I suspect that half inch was just vanity sizing.”

“Good to know.” Dean said, filing that information away for later as he set the produce in the sink. “What’s next on your care guide? Cuz I imagine there’s probably some kind of hot water epsom soak for your sore muscles in there somewhere.”

“That’s part of it. Usually a rub afterward with a couple different balms and salves Ro helped formulate, just natural remedies since I won’t do the drugs, and a lot of bed rest. A couple teas here and there. It doesn’t sound like a lot now but I can’t exactly do a whole lot of unaided walking after rubbing, it really exacerbates everything before calming it down.”

“Okay so we do a tea now, prep lunch if you’ve got any prep you think needs to be done or think I’ll fuck up, and then I say we do rub with nothing, then soak, then rub with everything after and I can tell from that face that you don’t normally do it in that order but trust me on it, okay?”

“Considering you’re kind enough to do this for me, I’m not about to argue.”

Satisfied with that answer, Dean allowed himself to be directed. He did what little prep needed to be done for their lunch in silence, simply transferring vegetables and meats into dishes and seasoning them appropriately before he brewed the blend of tea. The aroma was spicy and floral and Dean scrunched his nose when he caught a whiff of it, sliding it towards Cas as quickly as possible when it was brewed. It smelled healthy but it also smelled like something Sam would drink and he didn’t fuck with that.

“So this leg rub, I’m assuming it’s a pants off affair?” he asked as he sat down with the remainder of his coffee. “I just wanna make sure you’re gonna be cool with the like kind of nudity and obviously we're gonna do it upstairs if you have a hard time walking after it’s done.”

“Dean, I assure you me being without pants is hardly nudity but yes, I’ll be fine. But you really don’t have to do this if you’re going to feel weird about it. I know Halloween left us in a weird spot and some wires got crossed and I’m sorry about that.”

Dean held up his hand as if to tell Cas that it was fine before hopping back to his feet. “I take it you’ve got all the stuff up in the bedroom?”

“Mhm, in the chest at the foot of my bed. I’ll meet you up there, just gonna take me a few extra minutes to get up the stairs.”

Dean flashed a thumbs up and then left Cas in the kitchen, making his way upstairs and into Cas’ bedroom. Opening the chest at the foot of the bed, he removed the basket labelled as pain day remedies and set it on the bed. Jars of balms and salves and mixes of unknown origin stared back at Dean and he ran his fingers along neatly printed labels affixed to lids, curious and sad all at once. It broke his heart to know Cas had to deal with pain he had no one to help him manage in a responsible way. It wasn’t pain he should’ve had to deal with at all.

“Ro was the one to suggest I try some of the different balms in there, really the one who helped me on the whole herbs have different properties journey really.” Cas said, sounding strained as he appeared in the doorway. Re decided to rest there for a few moments, blinking back the stars of dizziness floating in his vision. “There’s one in there that’s really great for my joints, one I tend to use for my muscles, and then one as kind of a catch all. Really it’s an insanely long process.”

“You got anything that’s good for like minor cuts and scrapes? Cuz I keep scraping the shit out of my hands at work and then I try to leave it alone and then it gets dry and then it splits and it’s not a great look.”

“Yeah, I’ve got one for that.” Cas said as he made his way over to the bed, easing himself onto it with a quiet groan of relief as his weight shifted off his feet. He rifled through the tray before grabbing a small amber jar and handing it to Dean. “You can keep this one, I’ve got plenty of extras. It’s got calendula in it, it’s really good for calming inflamed skin for all the minor stuff you’re complaining about. You can use it for burns too, just wait for a little bit before you put it on. Gotta make sure the heat’s broken through the skin a little first.”

Dean nodded and pocketed the jar before getting to his knees on the floor. He’d forced himself to be go go go all morning and now that he was alone with Cas in the man’s bedroom and his friend was shimmying out of his pants, his thoughts were catching up with him. More accurately, his dreams. Hard floor beneath his legs, much like the brick had felt beneath his back, Dean found himself situated in front of Cas’ legs very nearly in between them with his mind wandering. His mind knew just how easy it would be, physically speaking, to plant his hands on Cas’ self-admittedly weakened legs, and surge up to kiss him, but that was wrong. Dean was pretty sure fantasizing about blowing your pain riddled friend knowing he was pain riddled was also wrong but that was a different thing.

Cas, having just freed his ankle from his pants, glanced down at Dean. The expression he was met with startled him. Dean looked like he had just completed a factory reset, expression completely blank but still retaining all of the panic of an anxiety fuelled teenager. Cas knew the look well; he saw it every time Claire had looked at Kaia before they had gotten together. Of course that sent a spike of panic through Cas and then he found himself wondering if being pantsless in front of Dean in his bedroom was such a good idea, especially with Dean on his knees. His first instinct was to reach out, to cup Dean’s face with a hand to get his attention but Cas stopped him when he heard Dean speak.

“I didn’t know you had tattoos.”

“Yeah. You would’ve seen them when we went to the beach back in June.” Cas chuckled, nearly weeping with relief when the conversation broke the tense silence. “Did you not notice them?”

Dean shook his head, sitting back on his legs so he could get a good look at them. They started on the tops of Cas’ feet and ran the entire length of his legs, disappearing up into the edges of his boxers. Pink coloured Dean’s cheeks when he noticed that. Each tattoo was an individual piece but it looked like they had been designed to flow together, a themed patchwork leg sleeve of plants and flowers and Dean found himself smiling.

“They’re very you.” He said, bringing his hands up to grab Cas’ left foot. Wanting to ease the tension further, Dean tried to crack a joke. “You know this entire thing feels very craigslist ad of you. Pain riddled adult male seeks consenting adult male to massage his feet and legs.”

“If this is your way of telling me you have a foot fetish, I’m not going to judge. I don’t have one myself but uh different strokes, different folks.” Cas replied, cracking a joking smile for the first time in a few hours.

“No foot fetish here, I don’t think. This is definitely not doing it for me, not with your cracked soles. Seriously dude, invest in a pumice stone.”

Cas raised an eyebrow, scoffing. “Oh I’m sorry, Mr. 'I only exist in workboots and wouldn’t know a nice shoe if they kicked me in the ass' is going to lecture me about proper footcare and maintenance? Although you have been trying out new things with the hair and the beard and the other stuff and are quite literally rubbing my feet so maybe I should be nice to you.”

“Yeah, be nice to me. You like the new look then?”

“There’s something attractive about a man who puts effort into his appearance, that’s all I’m saying. You’re winning points with a lot of people doing stuff like that.” Cas shrugged. He could feel Dean’s hands sliding from his foot to his ankle and while the massage was painful, it would help in the long run. As Dean’s hands slid over his ankle bone a bubble of tension snapped and Cas grimaced, fists balling in his comforter. “Fuck.”

Dean’s hands fell away from Cas’ foot, eyes snapping up full of worry. “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, sorry. Just- this is right where the healed incision sites are. Tends to be tender.”

“I’ll be careful, got it. Just tell me if I’m hurting you, I know you’ve got a mouth on you and I know you know how to use it.” Dean said before he returned to Cas’ ankle, being particularly careful. He could feel the raised scar beneath the tattoos and suppressed a frown. Cas had been through a lot and the last thing he’d want would be unearned sympathy.

Cas closed his eyes as Dean worked on the knots and tension in his legs, able to lay on his back since Dean was working on both legs below the knee before working on everything above the knee. Despite the pain, which sent shockwaves through his legs, the experience was relatively pleasant. It was the first non-intimate physical touch he’d had in years that he’d welcomed. At some point, Cas felt himself beginning to drift and that’s when Dean spoke again.

“Hey, can I ask you something? It’s kind of personal.”

Cas propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at Dean. “You’re on my knees in my bedroom rubbing my legs, Dean. Any sane person with no context would assume there’s no such thing as personal between us so yeah, go ahead.”

“Self-exploration,” Dean said as he pulled himself off of the floor to sit on the bed next to Cas, “specifically with the like sexy stuff and what you as a sexual person like… I need advice on how to figure out how to go about that. Because I’m doing the therapy and I’m happy with how I look and I’ve sort of started exploring and I think I know where I want to go but I’ve got no experience and I’m so lost.”

“Are you asking me a sex question?”

Dean nodded his head, watching as Cas turned on his side so he could look at him. Cas seemed tired but curious too, not an ounce of judgment in his face.

“I’m gonna need to ask a couple follow up questions if you want actual advice. Also are you really sure you want to talk to me about this and not Charlie? You two have been friends for longer. Also I don’t have pants on and you were just feeling me up and I know it wasn’t sexual and I’m teasing so don’t go getting mock offended and hitting me like you usually do.”

“Charlie’s not really that into like not-vanilla stuff, other than rope I guess. Or like not as well versed as you and you just seem so sure of yourself and more experienced and to be fair you did have your hands down my pants on Halloween so no I don’t feel weird about talking about this while you’re not wearing any pants right now. But yeah, ask your questions.”

“So this is about kink then, about what you like and don’t like with a partner or even alone? That helps a lot. Makes sense you’d want to talk to someone who knows it better, nothing wrong with that.” Cas shrugged, rolling onto his back again. The conversation would be easier if the pair of them had something else to occupy them. “You finally find someone you’re interested in?”

The bed creaked as Dean shifted, straddling Cas’ shins so that he could work on his thighs without too much work. Raised scares met his fingertips there as well and Dean pursed his lips again, tracing the scattered path of the healed injuries and leaving goosebumps in his wake. Cas shivered under Dean and it sparked Dean into doing what he had promised to do. “That’s complicated but yeah, I think so. Problem is is I’m chickenshit and inexperienced and they’re… not.”

“How experienced?” Cas asked, hanging on a little too heavily to the pronoun in Dean’s sentence.

Dean kept his eyes laser focused on his hands as they worked over a particularly gnarly scar on Cas right thigh. Better his hand than the rest of Cas’ leg or his face. Any stray idea would be one idea too many and then it’d be game over in the worst way possible. “Very.”

“Well you’ve got three options then.” Cas said. He could feel Dean’s hands pull away as soon as he had finished and he couldn’t tell if the sudden ache was from the pain or from missing being touched. Either way it sucked. Bringing himself up to a seated position, Cas made the deliberate choice to lean against Dean again. Was it a little selfish, sure, but he was in pain and he was sure Dean would understand. “You tell the person you’re interested but inexperienced and you explore together, you explore with other people to get experience and prolong being with that person, or you explore with yourself which only works about half the time depending on what you want to try.”

“Two of those imply confidence I sure as fuck don’t have. Moving on, let’s get you to the tub. That is the next step right?”

Nodding his head, Cas rose to his feet and immediately reached out to steady himself. Dean was there to steady him, arm behind his shoulders to support his back and hand firmly gripping his wrist to keep him from tumbling forward. The room was warm now, too warm, and neither looked at the other for fear of what they might see.

“How often do you do this when it gets bad?” Dean asked, helping Cas down the hallway and into the bathroom. It was one of the only rooms he hadn’t seen in the house and a spike of jealousy shot through him when he saw the size of the tub. He was convinced an hour’s soak in it would alleviate most of his own stress and worries.

Cas shrugged, lowering himself onto the lip of the tug. “Not as much as I’d like but I’m not about to inconvenience other people just to make myself feel better. Maybe every couple weeks in December through February, I’m not sure, winter time gets blurry.”

“Well I’ve done it once and I’m next door and we see each other basically every day so if it helps and you need relief, you know where I am.” Dean said. He paused, deliberately seeking out Cas’ gaze, and was unsurprised to find that Cas looked shy and embarrassed. “I’m gonna tell you something a really good friend told me once and then I’ll leave you to soak for an hour. He told me that there’s no shame in asking for help when you need it. And we both know this friend is smart so I think you should listen to him more.”

With one more smile and a nod of his head, Dean excused himself from the bathroom and made his way back downstairs to finish their lunch. He’d gotten everything into the oven and was halfway through washing the dishes when the sheer enormity of exactly what he was doing with Cas hit him. Never mind the helpfulness of it all, it was everything else that was bothering him. It was the fact he was in another man’s kitchen wearing his apron, donning his oven mitts, taking his goddam meatloaf out of the oven so they could have a nice lunch together. It was the way in which he portioned their lunch and set it on the wooden serving tray, which Dean noted was beginning to crack and would need to be repaired or replaced soon, and began the journey upstairs that bothered him. It was the way in which Dean didn’t hate it at all, not even a little bit.

“Are you wearing my apron?”

Ripped from his train of thought, Dean glanced up to find Cas sitting in his bed and not in the bathroom as anticipated. He nodded his head and shuffled in, setting the tray on top of the closed chest. “I can do dirt on the flannel but I draw the line at barbecue sauce, I’m not a complete animal.”

“I like it.” Cas said, reaching out to twirl one of the strings that hung from around Dean’s neck around his finger. “Lace looks good on you.”

Dean nearly choked, face so red he knew rivalled Cas’ prized tomatoes. If Cas noticed the man said nothing, simply taking his lunch from the tray and returning to his seated position. Dean chose to leave it at that as well and the pair ate in relative silence until Dean cleared the dishes away, returning with the basket of salves and balms. “Okay, what goes where?”

“Green label is for ankles and knees, purple for calves, and orange for the scars on the ankle and just above the knee. But you’ve done more than enough, you don’t have to do this. I can take care of this.”

“Too late.” Dean said, reaching for the orange label first. The salve was thick and grainy and all around unpleasant as he slathered it on the scars just above Cas’ knees, gently massaging it in.

“You really should’ve gone into medicine, I think. Or emergency services or something. You’ve really got a knack for helping people. Well, helping me at least. Or not making me feel judged I guess.”

“I was supposed to be a firefighter.”

Cas shifted, repositioning the pillows so that he could see Dean better. The expression he saw on Dean’s face startled him. Dean’s brows were knit together, his lips pursed into what amounted to a frown. Even the way his hands moved had changed, still gentle but more purposeful.

“Your Dad must’ve changed that.”

“See you’d think that but you’d only be half right.” Dean chuckled bitterly, reaching for the green jar. He was extra cautious around Cas’ ankles, remembering the way he’d winced a couple hours earlier. “If he’d just died then I probably would’ve gone through and done it, barring the whole Lisa and single Dad thing but he didn’t just die. I got stuck, just for a little bit, just long enough to get hurt and traumatized, and you can’t exactly be a firefighter when you’ve got a crippling fear of fire.”

“You didn’t ask to get stuck, that’s not your fault.”

“Didn’t say it was.” Dean said, reaching for the final jar. “Aside from how that royally fucked my childhood, I had to help my mom a lot so credit that with me being helpful now I guess. Something about how the people and events around us shape who we are and how react. How are your legs now?”

“They hurt like hell but this is really helping. Just wish I wasn’t so fucking tired.”

“You’ve got nothing else you need to do today and with the condition you’re in you’re not going anywhere so have a nap. You can get the rest of your shit done tomorrow if you need to.”

Cas began to protest but it died on his lips as soon as he felt Dean’s hands on his calves. Somehow they hurt the worst and every touch felt like he was bare knuckling through a snowstorm without a winter jacket. But, like winter, the pain slowly gave way to a softer gentler feeling and as the pain ebbed exhaustion finally set in. Cas’ body went lax against the mountain of pillows, his eyelids growing heavier and heavier until he couldn’t keep them open, and that’s when he fell asleep. He had just enough sense left to feel Dean drape a blanket over him and mumble something that sounded vaguely affectionate before he was out cold.

With Cas fast asleep in bed, Dean very quietly collected the balms and salves and put everything back in the chest before taking their lunch dishes back downstairs. His mind was racing with everything they’d talked about that afternoon and doing the remaining dishes did little to quiet it, though it did drown out what background noise there was. When he set the dishes in the rack and turned around, he nearly had a heart attack. Claire and Jack were sitting at the kitchen table, chins resting on their hands.

“Hey… you two…”

“He Stepford Wife’d you.” Claire said, barely holding back a laugh. “I can’t believe he actually fucking did it.”

Dean sighed before untying the apron and hanging it back on the hook. “Your father didn’t Stepford Wife me, just to make that clear. But keep it down, he’s not having a great day so he’s upstairs sleeping.”

Claire’s eyes narrowed in suspicion but Jack nodded their head. “Can’t you smell that? Entire house smells like that gross balm he uses on his legs.”

“That would be my hands. It’s remarkably hard to wash off. I’m gonna go since you guys are here but uh, maybe just keep an eye on your Dad for a little bit. Also there’s enough leftovers for supper so no one’s gonna have to cook.”

Jack seemed satisfied enough with that answer and didn’t press but Claire wasn’t having it, arms crossed over her chest. She was staring Dean down in the way a lion stared down a helpless zebra and Dean was surprised by how intimidating Claire actually was.

“There are four people in the entire world that know about Dad: Dad, Rowena, Jack, and me. Of those four people, there’s only one person whose helped Dad when he has his episodes. So how in the fuck is it that you, someone who he only met like six months ago, not only knows about his episodes but is close enough to him to help him out with one. Something’s fishy.”

“Hey, you teenagers trauma bond all the time so makes sense us adults would do it too.” Dean mumble, dragging himself back into the conversation and dashing his hopes of escape. “He told me on Halloween, if you really need to know. Not that it’s any of your business but I was having a hard time and he helped me out.”

Claire pursed her lips, studying Dean a little closer. “Was he drunk when he told you?”

“Tipsy, maybe, but not drunk. Doesn’t matter what he was when he told me. Point is is that he told me and he needed help today so I helped him.”

Dean’s answer didn’t satisfy Claire and she leaned forward, eyes scanning Dean. The scan was slow and deliberate, spanning several uncomfortable minutes as she studied every available inch of skin. Her expression was sour when she sat back, answer presumably not what she was hoping for. “I want to ask you something but it’s invasive as hell and gonna piss you off.”

Dean sighed deeply. “Ask.”

“How long have you and my Dad been fucking?”

Dean’s body reacted before his mind could process what Claire had said. First his face went red, heat prickling his cheeks, and then he felt his mouth go dry which only made sense when he choked on the saliva in his throat. He coughed, doubling over until he was able to clear his lungs and regain his faculties. The look of disbelief and horror remained on his face when he was finally able to look up at the Novaks, unsurprised to find Claire smirking and Jack offering an apologetic half grimace.

“We’re not.” Dean said at last, tone somewhere between firm and panicked. “We aren’t currently and we have never and we probably won’t and I really don’t think that’s an appropriate thing at all for you to be talking about.”

“Well you have to be doing something because there is no way in hell you and my Dad are spending every single Friday together watching tv or going to the bar or having those daily morning coffee chats without something romantic going on.”

“Maybe they’re just really good friends. Not everything’s about sex, dude.” Jack interjected. “Believe me, I’d know. Sorry about Claire, Dean. We’re trying to get her to not be like that.”

Dean waved the apology off before scrubbing a hand over his face. “I know what it looks like your Dad and I are doing so you’re fair for guessing that and you’re not the first. But we really are just friends. I swear. Your Dad’s a good guy, you should give him a break. And I’m gonna leave before this gets any more awkward so uh you two have a good night.”

“See you later Dean.” Jack waved.

Claire waited until Dean was gone before she turned to Jack, expression so ‘no nonsense’ it was painful. “He so wants to fuck Dad.”

“Dude. What did he just say.”

“You know I’m right. That reaction he had, he got so fucking flustered and that was not the ‘I’m embarassed and angry because you assumed I’m gay when I’m straight’ flustered either. That was absolutely the ‘I want to fuck your Dad but it’s complicated’ flustered. Like come on, the movie nights and bar nights and other stuff I can excuse as friend stuff or whatever but telling Dean about the accident and not only that but letting him help with the balms and the baths and that whole thing. That takes a level of trust that I really don’t think is platonic.”

“So you’re saying Dean wants to sleep with Dad which is fine but that’s not everything you’re saying.” Jack said, folding their hands together. The conspiracy was growing and despite their desire to remain diplomatic, the allure of the mystery was too strong to resist. “Do you remember the last time Dad had someone over?”

“His birthday I think. Why?”

“Because no one’s been over since and that was two months ago. Two entire months, like 60 full days, and that’s insane for Dad.”

Claire’s eyes widened. “Oh shit you’re fucking right. Didn’t Dean come over that night?”

“I think so cuz Dad had that pomegranate tree the day after and he kept going on and on about how much he loved it and you made some dumbass comment that I think pissed Dad off.”

“Dad fucking loves that tree, he talks to that thing like it’s a third child.” Claire laughed. “But dude, I think Dad’s into Dean. I mean it would explain all of the wanting to hang out and the weird little jokes and the closeness and all the other shit and I’m saying that as someone who had the exact same thing happen.”

“Dad doesn’t do dating though so does he just want to sleep with Dean?”

“No I think it’s more than that. I don’t think Dad would’ve told Dean about the accident and let him help with his legs if it was just a sex thing. I think it might be like a romantic thing too.”

“Okay, let me get this straight before this all gets too confusing. We think Dean likes Dad, for sure in a sexy way, unsure about the romance but probably. This is assuming the guy’s even into guys which once again, not any of our business. Then we’ve got Dad who doesn’t date and just sleeps around but hasn’t slept around in two months because we think he’s got the hots for Dean. So they like each but they don’t know it, is that what I’m getting from this whole mess?”

“Exactly.”

“Well you can have meddling with this if you want, I’m staying out of it.”

“Oh I am too.” Claire replied, waiting patiently for Jack to turn around. They did.

“You are? Your whole thing is meddling, like nuclear bomb level meddling.”

“Yeah and it blew the fuck up in my face last time. I’ve learned from my mistakes and also my therapist would kill me if I took a backslide so I’m not doing that this time. Maybe a gentle nudge if Dad gets his head out of his ass and asks me my opinion but that’s it. Gonna rope Kaia and Ben into it obviously but duh.”

“I feel like you’ve been replaced by something but I’m kind of okay with it. Good luck roping the other two into it.”

Claire shook her head in amusement, letting Jack leave. She sat in the kitchen to think, running through her thoughts about the situation. It was clear the pair cared about each other so she was intrigued to see where it would go.

Chapter Text

“It’s Thanksgiving, not a peace treaty meeting. I think you can relax a bit, Dad.”

Dean glanced up from what he was doing, wrist deep in a turkey and expression one of intense concentration. “You’re right, it’s worse than that.”

“How’s it worse?”

“This is the entire family plus Charlie plus Cas and his kids and the demon cat. It’s all the cooking and cleaning and alcohol and awkward conversation. If I fuck up this turkey then everything is fucked up.”

“Then don’t fuck up the turkey.” Ben shrugged, using the knock at the door as his excuse to exit the conversation and the kitchen. It was the Novaks and Ben stepped aside to let them in before turning to Cas. “Dad’s spiralling about everything, go have fun with that.”

Cas nodded and made his way to the kitchen, pausing in the doorway. He could see Dean there, dressed up in an outfit he hadn’t seen before. The button down was maroon and it was tight on his arms but Cas didn’t focus on that too long, eyes flicking down to the jeans and the black shirt and then back to Dean and what he was doing.

“Are you enjoying violating that turkey?”

Dean glanced up, concentration broken. His serious expression softened, eyes crinkling as he smiled at Cas. “Cas, hey. But no, not really. Not really into violating birds or stuffing. Is that what it would be called?”

“Mmm no, what you’re doing might be fisting. Not so sure about stuffing.” Cas shrugged, wandering over to Dean before holding out an apron. It was simple, a brown canvas fabric. “Brought you an apron, don’t want you to ruin the new outfit.”

“Hands are a little occupied here, might need some help putting that on.”

Cas nodded again before making his way over to Dean, arms circling him. He slipped the loop over Dean’s head before reaching around him to grab the apron strings, pulling them back and tying them in a nice bow. It was here Cas’ mind wandered for a moment, a brief fantasy punching its way to the forefront. All he had to do was slide his arms around Dean’s middle and press himself against his back and then he’d be in the perfect position to whisper in Dean’s ear. But Cas pulled away before he could indulge, slipping into his own apron.

“What do you need me on?”

“Potatoes, please. I can handle the turkey and carrots but I fuck up the potatoes.” Dean said, gesturing to the pile of spuds with his elbow. “Mom’s bringing a pie, Sam and Jess are bringing cranberry sauce and some kind of salad and I think the green beans, Charlie’s not bringing yams this year but she is bringing the stuffing because apparently Rowena taught her how to bake bread. Still need to find out more about that. You brought another pie I think and some other veggie so I think I just need you to help with the potatoes and then the mac and cheese and then we’re all set.”

“Got it.” Cas said, making his way over to the pile of potatoes. “You seem tense, nervous about everyone coming over?”

“Little bit. Kind of feels like every part of my life has combined into the world’s worst wrecking ball that’s coming at me. Like I know everyone gets along separately but the mixing is weird and I want it to go well. I’m nervous about Jess.”

“Sam’s wife right?”

Dean nodded, turning away to wash his hands before reaching for a basket full of spices to rub on the turkey. He reached for several jars, taking pinches from each and adding them to a larger bowl. “Yeah. I’ve been told she’s an absolute sweetheart but I was also told lace is a comfortable fabric and it isn’t.”

“I feel like there’s a story behind that.”

“Not one I’m telling you sober.”

“Guess we’ll have to go for a little thanksgiving walk then.” Cas grinned, throwing Dean a wink for extra effect. He’d come prepared as he always did, a couple joints tucked securely in the pocket of his pants along with a lighter.

Dean nodded his head, turning away quickly to hide the heat prickling his cheeks. The wink was entirely too disarming and he wasn’t prepared to reply with any kind of dignity. Luckily he was saved by a knock at the door and he excused himself, holding his breath until he revealed Charlie on the other end. She had the stuffing in her hands and a smile on her face.

“Cute outfit, you put some effort in.” She grinned, stepping inside. “Where do you want the stuffing?”

Dean glanced past her, sighing when he saw the rest of the guests arriving. “Kitchen table, should be room. Cas’ll boss you around.”

Nodding her head, Charlie made her way to the kitchen. She could see Cas slaving away as he cubed potatoes and dropped them into a pot of water but it was his apron that caught her eye and she chuckled in amusement. “I like the matching aprons, very Bert and Ernie of you. Or Mr. Frog and Mr. Toad with your whole gardening shtick.”

“Dean would kill you if he heard you say that.”

“Good thing he’s preoccupied with his family then.” She replied, setting the stuffing on the table. “You know I’m not really sure which one of you would be Ernie. Neither of you are overly happy.”

“You do know Dean’s convinced Bert and Ernie are-“

“Gay? Yeah, that’s exactly why I said it. He dressed up for you, just so you know. And having said that, I’m going to go find the kids and see what problems I can cause. See ya.”

Cas shook his head, returning to his kitchen duties. Dean was in the hallway and had just closed the front door behind everyone. Mary was first in line and she hugged him, pulling back with a smile to give Sam and Jess some room. Sam smiled awkwardly before stepping to the side to reveal Jess.

She was shorter than Dean had expected and looked younger than the photos he’d seen but photos were never that accurate to begin with. Dressed up a little bit, she smiled politely at him before extending a hand.

“I’d ask how in the hell Sam managed to bag you but I’ve been told I have to be a nice host today.” Dean said as he reached out and shook her hand. “But welcome in, glad to have you. Everyone’s congregating in the living room and it might be a little lively so.”

“Everyone?” Sam asked. “Thought it was just us and Charlie.”

“Plus my other best friend and his kids. It’s only like three extra people and they’re all great. You’ll be fine.”

Irritated by the imposition of three extra people, Sam simply moved past Dean and made his way to the living room with Mary. Jess hovered behind, offering an apologetic look. “We’re still unpacking and it’s wearing his patience thin, just ignore him. And the bar was very very dark when he bagged me.”

Dean chuckled to himself before the two parted ways and he returned to the kitchen, sidling up to Cas who was done the potatoes and moving onto the mac and cheese, He decided to be helpful and picked up a grater and a block of a cheese, grating away. “So fair warning, Sam’s not happy you guys are here which means he might get snippy. Might wanna get Claire to rein it in just a little bit. Jess seems cool though, from the whole two sentences she’s said to me so far.”

“Noted. Promise I’ll keep all the off colour jokes to a minimum.” Cas said, glancing over at Dean. “Careful you don’t shred your thumb.”

“I’m a fully grown man, I’m not going to-“

Dean cut himself off, dead silence filling the kitchen.

“You just shredded your thumb didn’t you?”

“Maybe.”

Cas sighed deeply before pointing towards the sink. “Go rinse it off under cold water, I’ve got Band-Aids in my apron pocket.”

Dean mumbled something unintelligible under his breath but did as he was told, rinsing his thumb off before turning to Cas’ side. Cas turned to him and pulled a Band-Aid out of his apron pocket, tearing the packet open before grabbing Dean’s hand. He put it on, hands lingering on Dean’s hand as he chanced a quick peek at the man’s face. Dean’s eyes were on Cas’ hand, his attention rapt as he focused on how tenderly Cas took care of his incredibly minor flesh wound. It didn’t look like he was breathing either.

“You need me to kiss it better?”

That broke the trance and Dean looked up at Cas, confused. “What?”

Cas kicked himself but doubled down. If he was digging his grave then he was going to make it was deep as he possibly could. “Your thumb, do you need me to kiss it better? That’s supposed to help, according to superstition anyway.”

“If it keeps me away from whatever disaster is happening in the living room, then yeah. Kiss it better.”

Surprised, but pleased, Cas obliged. It was a quick simple press of his lips to Dean’s bandaged thumb before he let go of Dean’s hand and then pointed to the door. “Now get the fuck out of your kitchen and send in your mother. Or Charlie. Or someone who won’t be a danger with sharp objects.”

“Excuse me? You can’t kick me out of my kitchen, it’s literally my kitchen.”

Cas raised an eyebrow and Dean felt his knees go weak.  There was something about the way Cas did it that got to Dean and he knew, he knew that if he ever managed to get the balls to get Cas alone that that look would be his undoing.

“I’m the one cooking which means I have the power in this dynamic so you’re not gonna win this one. I’ll call you in for the turkey.”

“God you’re horrible when you’re right.” Dean grumbled as he removed his apron and then left the kitchen. He made his way to the living room, expecting to find it in complete chaos. What he found wasn’t chaotic. Everyone was sitting and talking relatively civilly, Claire and Charlie having a chat while Jack and Ben had found themselves talking with Sam and Jess.

Dean managed to get Mary’s attention silently and convince her to help Cas in the kitchen and he slid into the living room, taking her spot in the arm chair. Spork, who had been waiting for his opportunity to find a comfortable spot to sit, chose Dean’s lap and cemented him in place.

“I still can’t believe you let him get a cat. You swore you’d never live with one, called them the devil’s minions at one point I think.” Sam said, turning to Dean.

“Yeah well kind of hard to say no when you come home and your kid just has a kitten wrapped in a towel he found in the dumpster. Besides, I kind of like the thing. He’s good company when I’m out in the shop.”

“Yeah, I’ll uh trust you on that one. Think Jess and I are gonna stick with a dog.”

“No baby?”

Sam shook his head. “Not until she’s out of residency, that’s something we decided ages ago. Didn’t want any distractions or surprises or unexpected expenses until we were set in our careers. No offence.”

“Well it wasn’t offensive until you added that last part.” Dean muttered. “You finished unpacking your shit yet?”

“Too busy working, so no. Got the essentials done and most of the kitchen but that’s it. Couch crapped out so we’ve gotta buy an entirely new one and that’s gonna be a pain in the ass. Plus there’s the whole we want to diy the living room because it’s just really ugly and we don’t know what we’re doing.”

“So,” Jess said as she tuned into the conversation and turned to Dean, “we were hoping we could get an expert to come in and help us figure out the logistics. Of course Sam isn’t doing us any favours by being his blunt lawyer speak self here but we’d really appreciate it. We’d provide lunch and listen and all of the other things.”

“I can make time for that, don’t worry.”

Jess nodded, seeming grateful. By now the kids and Charlie had broken off into their own group and Dean thought that it was for the best. The further away they were, the least amount of chaos they could cause. He could Jess eyeing them and then she was talking again.

“Ben’s a sweet kid, seems really excited and interested about medicine. Was asking me all kinds of questions about how to apply and how to study and what degree is best.”

“Yeah, he’s a little too smart for his own good sometimes. No clue where he gets it from cuz he sure as hell doesn’t get it from me or his mom.” Dean chuckled, eyes crinkling fondly as he smiled at Ben. “Not easy to raise, don’t get it twisted, but worth it. Absolutely worth it.”

“What’s up with the blonde one?” Sam asked, vaguely gesturing at Claire but quickly lowering his hand when she glanced in his general direction. “Because I’ve dealt with a lot of intense people for work but she’s a little terrifying.”

“That’s a long story. All that you really need to know is she’s going through a lot and isn’t as bad as she used to be. If you need an internet sleuth though, between her and Charlie you’d be able to find just about anything.”

“Speaking of Charlie, how long have you two been a thing?” Jess asked curiously.

Dean looked at her and did his best to maintain his composure but he couldn’t help it and laughed. He shook his head, wiping the tears of amusement from his eyes. “You didn’t know so I’m not laughing at you in a mean way, I promise. Charlie’s my best friend but she bats for the same team. She’s dating one of the neighbours actually, I set them up a little while ago.”

Jess’ eyes widened. “Oh. Oh I’m so sorry.”

“No worries, happens all the time.” Dean shrugged. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned his head, glancing up to see Cas stood behind him. Bringing his hand up to rest on top of Cas’ hand to keep him from moving, Dean smiled. “Get tired of your new sous chef already?”

“God no, I could cook with your mother forever. It’s time for the turkey so you’re needed.”

Dean nodded and removed his hand before picking up Spork and setting him down on the empty arm chair when he stood up, excusing himself from the conversation. He missed the shared look of alarm and curiosity between Sam and Jess as he headed to the kitchen.

Mary was setting the table when Dean got into the kitchen and continued to do so, keeping on her space while Cas and Dean headed up the food. Dean pulled the turkey from the oven with a grunt and dropped it onto the wooden cutting board, taking a step back to admire his work. A beautifully golden crust stared back at him, crispy sugar carmelized with herbs sprinkled throughout.

“Looks delicious.” Cas said, hands reaching out to grab Dean’s hips and shift him slightly out of the way. Dean noticed, flushing red but ignoring it.

“Wild caught, one of the guys I work with is a hunter so he offered to get me a bird. Cheaper and better meat than the store. Just gotta be careful about the bird shot but I think I got it all out.”

“Good thing we know the dentist down the street.”

Dean nodded his head, attention turning to the turkey as he began to carve it up. The task, while simple enough, took immense concentration and he was laser focused in. With the meat carved and divvied up into dark and white portions, Dean set the knife down and stepped back to admire his work. “Think I did good with this one.”

“I’m sure you did, dear. I’ll grab everyone from the living room.” Mary said, making her exit once she’d finished setting the table.

Cas set the mac and cheese on the final pot holder before he turned around to face Dean, expression one of reassurance. “Just gotta get through the actual meal then we can go on our walk and then you’ll be home free. Think you can manage that?”

“We’ll see.”

The group entered the kitchen in one lump and headed for the table, the Winchesters piling on one side and their guests on the other. Dean ended up on the end of the table nearest the turkey and nearest to Cas, acutely aware of how close they were when the other man sat down and their knees briefly knocked. It was a strange sensation but he didn’t have much time to think about the butterflies it gave him because Claire was speaking.

“Are you guys like a grace family or can I just help myself?”

Dean gestured to the spread to give her permission and she took it, helping herself immediately. The others followed suit, each dish passed to the left until they had all made their way around the table and everyone had taken their first plate. Busying themselves with eating, the kids and Charlie weren’t much for conversation but Jess seemed intrigued by Cas.

“So, I don’t think we’ve met yet but I understand you’re Dean’s friend. I’m Jess, Sam’s better half.”

“Call me Cas.” He replied. “But yeah, I’m Dean’s friend. He tells me you’re a doctor, that must be exciting. Which hospital are you at?”

“St. Joseph’s.”

“So you know Lorraine and Anna then.”

“I do.” She said, intrigued. “How do you know them?”

“Oh I work with them all the time, we do a lot of community events. If you get involved with the blood drives or the story times then you’ll probably see me around. I work with the Growth Collective, we’re a local non-profit.”

Sam’s ears perked up and he set his fork down, turning his head to take a look at Cas. He hadn’t really considered the man before but he recognized the name of the non-profit he was talking about and it meant something to him. “You said you worked for the Growth Collective. How long?”

“A while, why?”

“Well, my firm is trying to branch out a little bit and our criminal justice department’s had enough run-ins with them for drug related offences that we’re thinking of extending an olive branch and maybe asking for a meeting. Don’t know the plan, it’s above my pay grade, but I’ve heard the founder is notoriously hard to get a hold of and also a bit of an odd duck so…”

Dean grinned, eyes flicking to Cas before he leaned back and elbowed him playfully. “Yeah, sounds about right. I’ve heard the guy wears this really ugly fuzzy housecoat every morning when he drinks his coffee.”

“Well I don’t know about that rumour but I’ve heard he’s just a little left of center ya know.”

Cas, a little irritated by Dean’s playful jab, turned to him and decided to hit back with the same energy. “At least I’m not talking to myself about the end grain of wood at 6am in my backyard in batman pajama pants. Leave my housecoat alone.”

“The batman pajamas help me think and end grain’s important as hell. Don’t come bitching to me when your conventional cutting board dulls the fuck out of your kitchen knives.”

Sam and Jess shared another look, unsure of what they were witnessing. The banter between Cas and Dean was clear but there was something else there, something Sam couldn’t quite put his finger on. Jess, on the other hand, had her own suspicions and watched the, closer. The conversation had drawn Mary’s attention as well and she shook her head, mildly amused.

“Cas runs Growth Collective so you might want to be careful with what you say.” Mary chuckled. “Now I can’t speak to his habits or the housecoat but I’m sure you two can arrange a meeting time.”

“Can your bosses do 1 pm next Thursday?”

“They will make it work.” Sam said, fumbling to grab his phone and write the date and time down. He was embarrassed and irritated with Dean for setting him up to look like an idiot, shooting his brother a dirty look when he put his phone away.

Dean stuck his tongue out for the briefest of moments before turning back to his plate, eager to dig in. The conversation around him grew louder and continued as he ate, switching from work to school and then to something he didn’t care about when he went to get seconds. When he set his plate down, Dean took a moment to look at everyone around him. His family was there and not just the blood, but the family he’d chosen. Here were the people who had known him all his life and had just been getting to know him all sitting at his table eating and laughing and sharing stories like they had known each other all their lives. It warmed his heart and he felt himself get misty eyed.

He mumbled an excuse about grabbing a beer before excusing himself from the table, making a beeline for the kitchen to get some much needed air and clear his head. Charlie noticed, eyes narrowing with concern. Cas noticed too and he and Charlie shared a look before he was excusing himself to follow Dean to the kitchen. He gave it a few minutes before he approached the kitchen, knocking on the wall to alert Dean.

“You doing okay?”

Dean, who had busied himself with organizing the dishes that needed to be cleaned, glanced up. He looked happy but the misty shine in his eyes gave pause to that theory. “Mhm yeah, I’m fine. Just needed a minute.”

“Yeah, it’s a bit noisy in there for my taste too.” Cas said, making his way over to help Dean organize the dishes. “Between Charlie and your brother, I think there’s a very real chance that they convince Claire to work in law.”

“Claire in law? I don’t see that. Not unless she’s on the human rights side, or like grassroots maybe. No big corporate firms in her future, she’s way too anti-establishment for that. A bit too much like her old man.”

“I’m not anti all establishments, just anti the establishments that don’t benefit the people. But I tend to agree with you on that.”

Dean nodded his head, seeming to relax a bit now that he and Cas were alone. With the dishes organized and ready to be cleaned, Dean leaned against the counter and closed his eyes. Conversation echoed from the dining room and Dean let himself feel his emotions. The mistiness vanished from his eyes and when he opened them again, he was smiling genuinely as he looked over at Cas. “I never thought this would be possible.”

“But it is and you did it so go revel in it. Your family chose to be here, they want to be here. I think there’s something about the total lack of rejection to be said here.”

Dean chuckled softly, smiling down at his feet so he didn’t have to look at Cas. The butterflies had returned and he wondered what would happen if he indulged himself. It would be so easy to turn his body and get in Cas’ personal space, to goad the other man into testing the waters.

“You chose to be here. There’s a lot to be said about you braving the Winchester curse.”

Cas tilted his head to the side, body turning in towards Dean. His hand slid across the counter and into Dean’s personal space but he didn’t dare breech it completely. He sought out Dean’s eyes, gaze flicking deliberately from eyes to lips and back. “I’d choose to be here, Winchester curse or not.”

An awkward cough broke the spell and the startled pair turned their heads towards the noise, Mary standing in the entrance of the kitchen with some of the food in her hands. Her expression remained neutral but it was clear she’d seen enough as she stepped forward when Dean and Cas broke apart even further. “The kids are going to riot if dessert isn’t brought out soon. Think we could get a hand with that?”

“Of course. My kids are a nightmare when they’re not fed.” Cas chuckled as he excused himself, heading towards the dining room to help.

Dean hurried out of the kitchen before Mary could ask him about what had happened. He busied himself with clearing the table and bringing out the dessert, hoping to avoid conversation for as long as possible. Of course conversation picked up again when Dean sat himself down next to Cas and Dean did his best to contribute when he could, trying to use the pie on his plate as an excuse to not be talkative.

Cas talked enough for the pair of them, already familiar enough with Mary and Charlie to make conversation easy. While he didn’t exactly win Sam over, Jess seemed to take a liking to him and that seemed to smooth over any wrinkle that popped up. Every so often Cas would crack a joke or refer to Dean, leaning in and touching his arm to get his attention or elbowing his side so that he could look up and pay attention.

By the time Dean had finished his third slice of pie, his and Cas’ chairs were so close they were thigh to thigh again but no one seemed to be saying much of anything. It did little to quiet the butterflies in Dean’s stomach and when the topic of dating was broached, Dean felt his lunch threaten to come back up. That was complicated, far too complicated, and there was no way in hell he could explain it to everyone without combusting. Thankfully he didn’t have to because Cas was checking his watch and then pushing his chair away from the table.

“I hat eto interrupt the lovely conversation but it’s starting to get pretty late and I’ve got a lot of work I’ve got to do tomorrow so I think I’m going to head out and take the kids with me. Mary, Charlie, great to see you as always. Sam, Jess, nice to meet the both of you. I’m sure I’ll be seeing both of you around town.”

Everyone nodded and a chorus of goodbyes filled the dining room as the kids got up, heading for the front door and leaving without much fanfare. They figured Cas would want to hang back and have a quick word with Dean. He did and Dean excused himself from the dining room, following Cas to the front door.

“So, is my family too much for you?”

“Your brother’s a bit of an acquired taste but everyone else is great.” Cas said, bending down to put his shoes on. He righted himself with a wince. “You need better chairs, those are hard as hell on fucked up hips. Not saying my hips can’t take it but for future considerations.”

“Noted.”

“Good. I’ll see you later then, thanks again for having us. It was nice to be a part of a larger celebration for once.”

Dean nodded his head. He wanted Cas to stay longer but didn’t know how to make him and bribing him with leftovers didn’t seem like an option either. There was an awkwardness settling around them now that they were alone, the kind of awkward expectation that felt entirely too much like waiting for your date to kiss you goodnight after dropping you off at home.

Dean thought about it, about how easy it would be to take a step closer and lean down and just do it and his body moved of its own accord. He stepped closer, hand ending up on Cas’ forearm to keep him in place. Keenly aware of Cas’ blue eyes watching him curiously, Dean took a breath to prepare himself. It didn’t matter because there were footsteps and then Dean was stepping back, hand retracting like he’d been scalded by hot water.

“Mom’s gonna start doing the dishes if you don’t hurry up.” Sam said, standing at the end of the hall. By the time Dean looked back, Cas was already gone, and he deflated.

“I’m gonna kill her if she touches them.”

Sam raised an eyebrow but nodded, letting Dean pass and following him to the kitchen where everyone had congregated. Charlie and Jess had just finished putting the last of the leftovers in tupperwares and Mary was reorganizing the pile of dishes now that the final plates had been added. She turned at the sound of footsteps.

“I haven’t touched the dishes yet so don’t go biting my head off.”

“Good, because guests don’t do dishes after lunch. That’s why I’ve got a kid and a best friend.”

Ben sighed but knew better than to protest and took up residence in front of the sink, beginning to wash the dishes quietly. Dean shuffled over to stand next to him, grabbing a dish towel so he could dry and prevent overcrowding the rack. Charlie stood next to Dean so he could put the dishes away and keep the counter clean.

“I think your partner’s really sweet.” Jess said, continuing conversation. “How long have you two been together?”

Ben and Charlie glanced at each other past Dean, a shared look of alarm. They knew what was going on but they didn’t know about any developments. Apparently everyone else knew what was happening too which meant Dean was about as subtle as a rainbow.

Dean stared at her, face red and eyes blinking rapidly as he short-circuited.

“Yeah, he fits the looks thing but I didn’t realize you were batting for the same team. How the hell’d you have time to figure that out? Thought the whole Lisa drama made the last like four months of your life a living hell.”

“Samuel, now is not the time to interrogate your poor brother.” Mary said. “But you could have introduced him that way, none of us would have cared.”

“We’re not dating.”

Confused faces stared back at Dean but Sam was the only one brave enough to speak. “What do you mean you’re not dating? He comes in with his kids and you’re all like touchy and jokey and dude, that is classic ‘I’ve been dating this person a while’ shit. Like he touched you 18 times during lunch and I know because I counted. So uh if you’re not dating then you’ve got to be sleeping together.”

Dean sighed, a deep weary sigh straight from his chest. “We’re not fucking either. Cas and I are friends, that’s it. People are allowed to be friends and touchy without fucking. Charlie and I are friends and we’re touchy without fucking.”

“Dude, chill out. No need to get so defensive, it’s not like any of us are accusing you of committing a crime or something. We just thought that maybe you were and I don’t see how that’s a problem. Like if you’re worried about us judging you for being gay or whatever it is, I don’t think any of us care.”

Mary put her hand on Sam’s arm to get his attention so that he would stop talking but by then it was almost too late. Dean’s pent-up frustration from the million little things that had built up over the course of months was finally boiling over and Sam had presented the perfect 6’4” long haired target.

“I’m not fucking gay, Sam, and honestly even if I was, it’s none of your fucking business. What I do and who I do it with literally has nothing to do with you so I really don’t appreciate you coming into my home, eating my food, and then being an asshole. And you don’t even know the fucking first thing about me as a person so what gives you the fucking right to assume? Maybe I’m bi, maybe I’m straight, maybe I am fucking the neighbour, not like you would fucking know which of those best fits my personality. So just stop fucking talking for the love of Christ.”

“I don’t think a straight man would have that reaction to a simple question.” Sam retorted, unable to hold his tongue. “And you’re right, I don’t know you but this, this outburst, this is exactly what you were like when Lisa was around and it was exactly why I left. Thanks for lunch.”

With that Sam took his leave, exiting the kitchen in a huff. Jess stood there awkwardly before she chanced a glance at Dean, her expression incredibly apologetic. “I’m so sorry, I have no idea what got into him. Really sorry if my questions crossed a line. Lunch was lovely though, thanks for having us.”

“You’re really great, so sorry. That was not meant about you.” Dean mumbled, still upset and embarrassed.

Jess shrugged as if to say that shit happens and then she excused herself.

“You know your brother didn’t mean anything with what he said.” Mary said matter of factly as she reached for her purse. “In his defense, he’s not wrong. You two really do act like a couple.”

Dean’s shoulders sagged and he pointed in the direction of the front door. “Thanks for coming but please just get out.”

Mary left without another word, knowing it was best to give Dean space. That left Charlie and Ben in the kitchen and Dean turned to them, dropping all pretenses. He looked as if the weight of the world had been laid across his shoulders, bone tired worry set deep into his face and the kind of quiet agony that came with the fear of the unknown. Of course he knew Charlie knew about Cas and obviously Ben had suspected since Halloween but it hadn’t been said out loud and as Dean looked at his son, he felt the chill of fear creeping up his spine.

“You look tired, Dad. Aunt Charlie and I can finish the dishes if you want to go for a nap.” Ben said, breezing past the outburst as if it had never happened. “Spork’s probably hiding in your room, he might be good company. Can’t talk and all that.”

Dean nodded his head and handed Charlie the dish towel before setting off for his bedroom, relieved to be alone. Spork was there as promised and the cat curled up next to his head when Dean crawled into bed. A few quick pets of the cat and then Dean was closing his eyes, praying he’d be able to nap and forget the afternoon. Thankfully exhaustion overtook him.

Back downstairs, Ben and Charlie continued on with the dishes. They were silent until Charlie was sure Dean was asleep and then she turned to Ben. “So you survived your first big Winchester get together. How was it?”

“Well I mean it was fine until the end. Would’ve been fine if Uncle Sam hadn’t pushed the way he did.”

“Your uncle’s always been like that, I’m not surprised it happened. Course your dad blows up pretty easy too so don’t think that helps. Bit like a match and gasoline those two.” She shrugged. “You look like you’ve got something else on your mind.”

“So we had that whole convo about Dad and Cas over video games and obviously we both know I thought something was up and I asked him about it on Halloween. Well more sort of half brought it up. I told him I’m chill if he has a thing for dudes without bringing up Cas but obviously that’s what’s happening. So I just- can you be honest with me about what’s happening? Does he have a thing for Cas?”

Charlie nodded her head, putting the dish towel down. “He knows you know, that’s the only reason I’m telling you. Just so that’s clear. But yeah, he does. He didn’t fully figure it out until after Halloween so it’s still new.”

“And this is his first crush on a guy?”

“First time he’s aware of it, let’s say.”

Ben nodded his head, mulling over the information. “Does he know Cas likes him back? Because it’s pretty obvious he does.”

“With your Dad, I don’t know. I love your Dad but he’s got horrific self-esteem issues and enough repression to stun the Catholic Church so I don’t think this is the easiest thing for him to be going through right now. I’ve been doing what I can to help and I think it’s working but a lot of it is just up to him right now.”

“Would it be a bad idea if I talked to him about this? Like checked in kind of talk? Cuz I don’t love the whole struggling in silence thing and I really don’t wanna see him so upset.”

“I don’t think it’d hurt.” Charlie shrugged. “Are you and your Dad gonna be good if I head out? I can stay if you need but-“

“We’ll be fine. Thanks for coming and staying and chatting. I’m sure dad’ll reach out if he wants to talk more. See you later.”

Charlie reached out to hug Ben before she grabbed her keys and headed out. Now alone, Ben busied himself with finishing the dishes and putting the leftovers away. When that was done he cleaned up the dining room and living room, doing everything short of vacuuming in the hopes that it would take some of the stress off of his Dad. In the end he curled up on the couch in the living room and put on a movie, settling down to relax after the familial chaos of Thanksgiving dinner.

The stress hadn’t left Dean by the time he woke up from his nap but it had settled, sending spikes of pain through his shoulders when he pushed himself into a sitting position and rubbed at his eyes. There was a meow of protest from somewhere in front of him and Dean glanced down to see Spork curled up on his legs, glaring angrily at having been disturbed. “Yeah yeah, I’m sorry.” Dean mumbled, gently pushing Spork off of his legs before crawling out of bed. He changed out of his thanksgiving clothes into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt before deciding to venture downstairs. It was probably time to talk to Ben.

Stopping in the kitchen for a cup of tea, Dean was shocked to see that it was spick and span. The surprise continued when he walked through the dining room into the living room and saw both were cleaned up as well. Ben must’ve done it. That put a small smile on Dean’s face. There was a flickering light coming from the tv and as Dean shuffled closer, he was greeted with the familiar words of Creature from the Black Lagoon. Ben was tucked up in the corner of the couch under a blanket, eyes closed. They cracked open when Dean picked up the remote and turned it off. “Hey, I was watching that.”

“With your eyes closed and drool coming out of your mouth?” Dean chuckled, sitting on the couch next to Ben. Ben shifted in response, leaning against Dean and settling down. Dean’s smile widened and he wrapped an arm around Ben’s shoulders, content to sit there like that. “Think you’re awake enough to talk?”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. Not really any of my business.” Ben said, sounding more awake.

“It’s something we should talk about because it affects you too and I do actually give a shit about your opinion. I’m not good at this stuff though so you’re gonna have to give me a minute to figure out how to say all this.”

Ben shrugged and waited for Dean to gather his thoughts. Dean took his time as he tried to figure out the best avenue to explain exactly what his feelings were and how they came about. In the end he settled on the truth, whatever that was.

“I don’t really know how it all started or why it all started or even when it started, just that it did. I didn’t really think anything of it until everyone started saying things about me and Cas and then a lot of shit that you don’t need to know about happened and well, I guess I like him.  Or am attracted to him at the very least. I don’t really know exactly, just that it’s not platonic.”

“Okay, you like him. Nothing wrong with that, kind of assumed you did when you got attached at the hip to him. But you’re bothered by it and that’s what I don’t get.”

“It’s a little bit jarring to be a whole ass adult with a teenager and suddenly realize that maybe it isn’t just women you’re attracted to, that’s why I’m bothered. This whole thing is weird and new and terrifying and I don’t do well with big new weird terrifying changes. I just- I feel like if it took me this long to figure this huge thing out then do I even really know myself?”

“You’re thinking way too hard about it, Dad. You need to do what Claire did.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “And what exactly did she do?”

“She was in love with Kaia for ages and didn’t realize it, took everyone around her telling her for her to realize that she liked girls and Kaia specifically. Then she got drunk and kissed her and they’ve been together ever. Just make a move and see what happens.”

“Except I’m not a teenager and it’s not that simple. Ignoring the fact I haven’t done anything even remotely in the vein of romance in 16 years, there’s experience versus inexperience and then there’s the whole aspect of fucking up a friendship and not just mine and his but yours and his kids. There’s a lot to consider.”

“I think my friendship can survive two middle aged men fucking around. It’s already survived the whole egg donor thing so it’s basically a cockroach. I think you’re finding reasons not to do anything.”

Dean frowned, lips pursed together. “I’m not.” He mumbled defensively.

“Are too. Could’ve gotten with him on Halloween or asked him out after any of the morning coffee chats or the tv nights on Fridays or the bar nights on Saturdays when you’re drunk or even kissed him goodbye today which you definitely did not do. If you’re waiting for my blessing, you have it now.”

“How did this turn into you talking to me? This is not how this is supposed to go.” Dean said as he readjusted his arm. Despite how awkward the conversation was, it was helping and Dean was feeling the nerves begin to fade away. Ben didn’t seem to have any issue with it, quite the opposite really. “And thanks, I guess. If I knew how to make a move then I would. But I don’t really know if he likes me like that.”

“Oh for the love of god Dad, he’s wanted to fuck you since the day we moved here. Everyone knows it and I think you do too, like way deep down. So make a move and get shit going and get exploring. Can’t figure out what you like if you don’t try.”

“I feel like you’re not supposed to be this supportive. You’re a teenager and I’m your Dad, you’re supposed to run screaming at the thought that I’m a human being who has feelings and a life outside of being ‘Dad’.”

“Yeah but you also had your life ruined and imploded by a selfish bitch and didn’t have the chance to explore and get to find out who you were because of it so you deserve to figure that out now. I mean obviously ground rules and we don’t share the weird shit but like I want you to do all this stuff and be happy and if that means seeing what happens with Cas, then go for it. Don’t be repressed on my account.”

Dean looked at his son through misty eyes, the lump in his throat making it damn near impossible to speak. He hadn’t known what would come of this conversation but he hadn’t expected such openness and support from Ben, not about this. The thought of hugging Ben was there but it dissipated quickly when Dean realized how much Ben would complain.

“This really doesn’t bother you.” Dean managed to say, wiping at his eyes with his hands. “Fuck I was so worried for nothing.”

Ben thought for a moment before he turned and hugged Dean, a simple tight hug. “I just want you to be yourself, Dad, whatever being yourself means for you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Chapter Text

The light dusting of snow crunched under Dean’s boots as he stepped outside and pulled his jacket around himself just a little bit tighter. Christmas was in the air and that meant Christmas markets were in town. He’d always loved the markets, loved seeing what local vendors showed up and what their wares were and admittedly he always came home with a few more gifts than he meant to buy. But hey, it was Christmas and that was the spirit.

He was about halfway to his car when he heard his name, head snapping up to see who was calling him. It was Claire and she was scurrying down the driveway towards him in a pair of pajamas adorned with the gingerdead man. He almost wanted to steal them.

“Hey kid. You need something?” He chuckled, holding back a full laugh when she hunched over to catch her breath.

“Me, no. My Dad, maybe. Ben said you might be going to the Christmas market today, that still happening?”

“That’s where I’m headed now. Why, your Dad want to go?”

Claire nodded. “He was gonna go today but he’s coming out of a really bad flareup and thought it would be fine if he could just find his cane to hobble around with but he can’t find the cane and also his knee is kinda fucked and when it gets really fucked he can’t drive and like I’d offer to go but I’ve got plans and so does Jack so I figure if you’re already going then maybe you can go together?”

“He had another flare? Bastard didn’t tell me.”

“He doesn’t tell anyone, welcome to the club.” She said bluntly. “Anyways, he’s in a really pissy mood right now but I’m like a hundred percent sure that would be fixed if you came over and asked him to go to the market with you. But like don’t tell him that I told you about any of this cuz he’ll tear me a new one for meddling and I really don’t want that.”

Dean thought for a moment before chuckling to himself. The perfect opportunity had just presented himself and he was going to take it. “Go back inside and I’ll show up in say like 15? It’ll feel less suspicious than if I showed up right now. I think I can get your old man out of the house and to the Christmas market.”

“Thanks Dean, I appreciate it. I know Dad will too.” Claire said before she scampered off, disappearing back into the house.

Instead of returning inside, Dean made his way to the backyard and into his shop. There, laying on his workbench in all of its handcrafted glory, was Cas’ Christmas present. He ran his fingers down the length of it, smiling to himself. It was a thing of beauty and it was perfectly handy for the current situation. Trying to wrap it, on the other hand, was considerably less handy and less beautiful. It ended up in a sort of misshapen mess which Dean had to tear apart. In the end Dean constructed a cardboard box to put the present into and then wrapped the box, placing a hastily made cable tie bow on top to seal the deal.

He found Cas on the couch when he let himself into the Novak’s and took a moment to study Cas in his natural state. The man was frustrated, the furrowed brow and pout more than enough to give that away and Dean bit back a chuckle. He looked a bit like a gargoyle or those statutes that belonged in those fancy art museums. Cas had propped his right leg up with a throw pillow and his knee was braced over his jeans, something Dean hadn’t seen him do before.

“I’m gonna start calling you the bionic man.” Dean grinned as he leaned over the back of the couch, dropping down into Cas’ line of sight and ruining his bubble of brooding.

Startled by the sudden intrusion, Cas jumped and then glared at Dean. “That wouldn’t be funny on a good day, Dean.”

“Still get points for trying. You’re all dressed up, I like the sweater.” Dean hummed, gesturing to the Christmas themed sweater Cas wore. Largely dark blue and knit, there was a scene of penguins in toques and scarves skating on a pond. “Looks like you’re headed somewhere.”

“Not anymore.”

Dean nodded his head before straightening back up and shuffling to the arm of the couch, sitting on it. He was just behind Cas’ head now, actively resisting the urge to tease him about the new tuft of grey that was cropping up at the crown of his head. “Snow cause another flareup?”

“Yeah, it did. Got through the worst of it and thought I’d be fine to go out and do stuff but then I decided to hang the Christmas lights yesterday and fucked my knee.”

“I could’ve hung the lights for you. I do have a doorbell and I know you know how to use it. So I’m guessing fucked knee explains the shitty mood.”

“Fucked knee means no Christmas market because I kind of need a properly bending right knee to drive and also I can’t exactly walk without a cane and I can’t fucking find mine. Like the thing is solid fucking metal and it’s just vanished.”

“I have something for you.”

The glee in Dean’s voice was unmistakable and Cas raised an eyebrow. He tipped his head back to stare up at Dean but Dean had already gotten up and was halfway down the hall, practically running back with a wrapped box. There was a giddiness to him, a lightness in his smile that was so infectious Cas couldn’t help but crack half a smile too. Cas shifted to make room for Dean on the couch, bending his knee in the brace and biting his lip to stifle the groan of pain.

“What is this?” He asked, eyes scanning the shoddy wrapping job and the cable tie bow tie. The presentation was hideous but it was charming too and Cas had no doubt Dean had wrapped it himself. That thought alone, the thought of Dean hunched over whatever it was wrestling with the wrapping paper and tape, was enough to make Cas crack a full-fledged smile.

“Your Christmas present.”

“Dean, it’s December 10^th. I think you’re a few weeks too early.”

Dean sat on the couch next to Cas, tucking his legs up so he could turn and face his friend. He held out the present, still grinning. “Trust me, you’ll want to open it.”

Cas shot Dean a look but took the present from him, sliding off the cable tie bowtie and setting it on the coffee table. He didn’t bother trying to save the wrapping paper or the butchered cardboard box, too curious to know what was inside. Dean had been an excellent gift giver so far, very in tune with what Cas liked, and he had no doubt this gift would be the same.

The item slid from the box with ease, landing in Cas’ lap. With a rubber tip at one end and a handle on the other, the cane was unmistakable. Breezing past the shape, Cas found himself stuck on everything else. He ran his fingers along the intricately carved length of the cane, fingertips brushing over motifs of carnations and chrysanthemums and a million other flowers he recognized. As he touched and examined the cane, he lifted it up and the weight of it was solid. It was then, as he stared at the wood that had clearly been dyed and sealed by hand to look like cherry, that Cas realized.

“It’s not cherry, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Dean said, sounding almost shy. “Cherry’s not good for flexible weight bearing or detailed carving like that. It’s hard maple.”

Cas continued to stare at the cane in his hands, turning it over to drink in the details on the other side. He examined the handle closer, eyes landing on the simple D.W makers mark. Something about the mark opened the floodgates and the waterworks roared to life. Tears welled in Cas’ eyes and slipped down his red cheeks, the lump in his throat preventing him from talking.

“Hey, you okay? You’re pretty red.”

Cas nodded his head, quickly wiping away his tears with a free hand. When he felt like he’d sufficiently collected himself, he finally looked over at Dean. Dean sat there, a look of concern on his face and Cas had the urge to kiss him breathless for being so thoughtful. But that was just a fantasy. “This is the most thoughtful thing someone’s done for me in a very long time.”

“You said you needed a cane but couldn’t get one that worked for you, solution was pretty obvious. It’s made for your height but I can always adjust it if you need. The rubber tip slides off too, you can swap it with different types depending on weather or need. Should be the same circumference as on-the-market canes accessory wise.” Dean explained, talking to fill up the space so Cas could compose himself. “It’s a derby handle too, they’re a bit easier to use cuz you can hook a finger or thumb around the jutty outty bit at the front. At least that’s what I’ve been told. There’s a couple other things that aren’t with the cane now but you’ll get those at Christmas and no they’re not from me but I’m obviously not telling you anything else.”

“You have such a big heart, Dean. I can’t believe you did this.” Cas said, leaning the cane against the coffee table. “This must’ve taken you weeks.”

“Doesn’t matter how long it took me. All that matters is that you like it and that it’s going to help you. You wanna take her for a test drive?”

“And where am I test driving her exactly?”

Dean grinned and hopped to his feet, holding out a hand for Cas to take. “The Christmas Market. I’ll drive, we park close, and we browse slowly. We take as many breaks as you need and if you start feeling like shit, you tell me and we leave. Think you can handle that?”

Cas debated for a moment before he took Dean’s hand, getting to his feet with a wince. The brace eased his pain but didn’t totally remove it. He reached for the cane, the handle hard but supportive when he put the first bit of weight on it. “I think I can handle that.” Cas said, reluctantly letting go of Dean’s hand as he made his way to the coat hooks with his cane. The pair were silent as they ventured outside and got into the car. It was only when they were on their way that Cas spoke again. “Which one of them told you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Cas glanced over at Dean, shaking his head. “Thanks for the confirmation. You would’ve said ‘what the fuck are you talking about’ if you didn’t know. So who told you?”

“Claire did, this morning. Told me you were planning on going to the market today but that you were flaring and couldn’t find your cane and couldn’t drive and were in a pissy mood. Said it might be a good idea if we went together.”

“That feels suspiciously like meddling. I might have to talk to her about that.” Cas sighed, toying with the cane as he looked out the window. “I hope I’m not the only reason you’re going to the market today.”

“Cut her some slack on this one, she was worried about you. I don’t think there was any ulterior motive here. But no, you’re not the only reason I’m going and full transparency here, I was gonna see if you wanted to come with me anyway. These things are always more fun with someone else anyway. Like who else is gonna drink boozy hot chocolate with me at 10 am and make fun of the soprano who's way too sharp singing Christmas carols?”

“Nice to see judgmental Dean is out bright and early this morning. You really like Christmas don’t you?”

Dean nodded his head as he pulled into a parking spot, getting the pair as close as he could to the entrance of the market. He waited for Cas to get situated outside before the pair began their slow walk into the market, conversation continuing.

“I do. It was the one holiday that was always really happy for my family, both pre and post fire and then pre and post Lisa. I like the traditions and spending time with my loved ones and the baking and the movies and all the stuff you get to do around this time of year.”

“You and Ben have any traditions then?”

“New pajama pants and a rewatch of Die Hard every Christmas Eve, well that and getting and decorating a real tree. Nothing too fancy but it’s fun. What about you guys?”

“Christmas cookies, the odd hallmark movie, and then Claire makes us watch a Christmas horror movie every year. Some of them are uh, creative.”

Dean laughed a little, nodding his head. “I saw her gingerdead man pjs, I’m well aware. You up for a boozy hot chocolate?”

“Absolutely I am.”          

With that thought in mind, the pair slowly made their way over to the first of many stands dotting the market. Dean ended up with a dark chocolate hot chocolate loaded up with peppermint schnapps and Cas went more traditional with hot chocolate and bailey’s. As the pair stood there and sipped their drinks, Cas took the opportunity to sneak a long glance at Dean while his attention was elsewhere.

He looked as good as he usually did, neatly trimmed facial hair and freshly cut hair coupled with the longer coat for a rugged outdoor appearance. It was the new sweater that Cas was appreciating, a forest green with trees along the hem and along the bottom of the breast pocket. It was unfair really, the way Dean looked. Cas had resigned himself to suffering in silence for months, always toeing the line but never quite crossing it. But the cane, that sweet grand gesture, that felt like crossing a line. The piece of wood in his hand, the cane Dean spent weeks slaving over to ensure every flower was carved and sanded and dyed and sealed perfectly crossed a line. That wasn’t something you did for just a friend.

“Did I spill on my shirt?” Dean asked, snapping Cas out of his reverie. “You’re kind of staring a hole right through me.”

“Nope, just zoning out.” Cas said quickly, tipping his cup back to finish his drink and hide he flush of embarrassment on his face. Dean didn’t need to see that. “Should we follow the horseshoe so we don’t miss anything?”

“We should because there’s pie at the next booth and I can smell it and it smells incredible.”

“You’re like a bloodhound I swear to god. It’s a little terrifying how you manage to sniff out the pie everywhere we go.” Cas chuckled, walking slowly with Dean to the next booth. Dean had bought their drinks so he bought Dean a slice of pie in return, amused by how much it immediately brought up Dean’s mood.

For the first three booths Cas was able to manoeuver relatively fine with the new cane but by booth four his knee was beginning to ache, a dull throbbing setting in above and below the joint. He thought about toughing it out but decided against it, instead tapping Dean on the shoulder and quietly asking if they could sit for a little bit. Dean agreed and the pair found a bench to sit on, Cas sagging with relief when the weight was taken off his joint.

“Tell me your favourite Christmas memory?” Dean asked when they were seated.

“It was the first Christmas I spent with Jimmy and Amelia after they’d had the kids. Keep in mind this is the first family Christmas I’d had after years of rehab and drugs and being iced out and it just, I won’t forget it. I didn’t have a lot to my name at the time but I put on my nicest sweater and I went to see them and we had Christmas dinner and exchanged gifts and I couldn’t afford to give my brother anything but I scraped up enough to get the kids some stuffed animals. They loved those stuffed animals, they still have them. Point is is my family treated me like family and it meant the world to me.”

Dean listened intently, smiling as he did. He knew the feeling well, the desperate need and drive for inclusion. Wanting to be part of a family was such a human instinct, such a base desire, and it was nice to know Cas had it too. It made him feel more human and it made him all the more relatable.

“I get that feeling, I really do. I haven’t had a proper family Christmas in over a decade and this is the first year we’re all in the same place. My mom’s hosting since Sam and Jess are still unpacking and I did thanksgiving.”

“You must be really excited.” Cas said as he turned to face Dean. “I know how important family is to you. Think you can handle checking out a few more stalls?”

“I think I can.”

With that the pair were off again on their slow circuit of the market, chatting as they wandered. They passed the first stall, a kind older lady selling knitwear who Cas stopped to chat with about resupplying the store with some more mittens before moving on to the second. The second stall was a local artist selling prints and ceramics and Dean stopped to admire a sculpture of a fairy, talking to the vendor about how they managed to get the clay for the wings so thin and detailed.

Cas shifted his weight as he waited for Dean to move on, his discomfort growing. The pain was manageable when he was moving and focused but the longer he stood still, the more it shifted. Dull throbbing was beginning to sharpen, spikes shooting down into his shin and leeching up into his thigh. If they didn’t start moving soon, there might be a problem.

They moved just as the pain edged into white hot but it was a bit too late and Cas shifted wrong, foot dragging on the ground and coming into contact with the cane. He stumbled, tripping forward with wide eyes. Expecting to hit the ground Cas braced for impact but it never came. Two firm hands gripped his body, one on his shoulder and another one his other side and there Dean was, catching him and righting him and then looking at him with concern.

“Hey, don’t go falling for me now. Gotta keep it pg in public.” He teased, trying to joke and avoid the pity he knew Cas hated. Dean’s hand still hadn’t left its spot on Cas’ wrist and his eyes darted down to it. It would be so easy to slide it down just a little further, to twine his fingers with Cas’ and hold his hand, to make that first move. And what a simple first move it would be, so much easier than a kiss or words or anything else Dean could think of. Dean’s eyes darted back up to Cas’ face, hand remaining. “You okay?”

“You think you’re so charming with your little quips, don’t you. Takes more than little jokes to impress me.” Cas replied, trying to play it cool. Between Dean’s hand on his wrist and the hummingbird beat of his heart, Cas could barely think. This was a moment, this was an honest to god moment he could take a risk and try something. But would it be worth it? Would Dean accept the action and roll with it or would it be a mistake? Would it just end up complicating things?

In the end, Cas made his choice. He slid his hand up just far enough to free his palm before sliding it back down, twining his fingers with Dean’s. Glancing up at Dean, Cas mustered enough courage to offer him his signature crooked grin. “Just so I don’t fall again.”

“Mhm, safety precautions.” Dean replied, blinking rapidly. Cas’ hand was in his and he felt like he was going to explode, heart hammering in his throat and limbs tingling like they’d gone to sleep and woken up again. He’d touched Cas’ hands before but this, this prolonged holding, this assured touch as they moved to a different stall, this was different. The last time he’d felt like this had been almost 20 years ago and that was terribly conflicting.

“Are you finally going to tell me the holiday Barbie story?” Cas asked as they walked. “Because it’s Christmas time and I think I deserve to know.”

“Keep in mind I was like 9 at the time. Anyways, mom had just lost her job so money was tight and Christmas wasn’t an option for us at all. I didn’t care that I wasn’t getting anything but Sam was 5 and he was gonna be heartbroken if he didn’t get anything. So I did what anyone would do as a 9 year old with no money and I stole something for him. Some idiot like four streets down had left some wrapped presents out on their porch so I took one.”

“That poor kid but I get it. Sweet of you to try to get something for Sam.”

“Yeah well I didn’t know what was in the wrapped box and he looked really confused when he opened it the next morning and found a holiday Barbie. Mom was fucking pissed I did that but didn’t punish me too hard, understood why I did it.”

Cas nodded, chuckling to himself. The story was sweet and very much felt like something Dean would do. “So why do you have the Barbie now?”

“Sam regifted it to me a few years later and I kept it, simple as that.”

“Softie.”

Dean rolled his eyes, turning to face Cas. “Yeah yeah, we’re just a couple of softies. I’ve got my holiday Barbie and you’ve got your kids’ stuffed animals. Now come on, I think we should keep taking a look around so we can get you home before you fall harder for me.”

“In your dreams.”

Dean didn’t bother to reply, simply continuing his slow promenade with Cas. It was easy to walk with him and even easier to talk with him, so easy to get lost in his charm and personality and the wholeness of who he was. Throughout it all, their hands remained linked and it was somewhere around halfway through the market that Dean realized Cas was stroking his hand with a thumb. The gesture, while unconscious, was enough to send a thrill down his spine.

They stopped at a booth three quarters of the way through the market when Dean was distracted by a carved wooden bear. He kept his hand twined with Cas’ but turned away to talk to the man running the booth, clearly excited and gesturing. Beside the man was a woman Cas assumed was his wife and she smiled warmly at him. She looked to be in her mid-60s and had the air of a well-meaning grandmother. “If your husband’s anything like mine, he’ll go on for hours unless you stop him.”

“Oh we’re not… we’re not together like that.” Cas mumbled awkwardly. “But I’m well aware. He spent four hours the other day talking about exotic wood and I don’t even think he got out of the A category.”

“Oh sorry, I assumed. Probably shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s a fair assumption.” Cas shrugged.

He shifted on the balls of his feet to redistribute his weight and it was then the woman noticed his cane, peering closer at it with a discerning eye. For several minutes she studied it before she looked back up at Cas. “I don’t know who made that but they know what they’re doing. That’s a beautiful piece of work, must’ve taken weeks if not longer. Was it a custom piece? If you don’t mind me asking of course.”

“It was actually. He made it for me.” Cas said, tilting his head in Dean’s direction. “I had no idea he was doing it either.”

That statement was enough to raise the woman’s eyebrow and she leaned in. “Can I give you some unsolicited advice as someone who’s been around the block a few times?”

“Sure.”

“Someone doesn’t just spend all of that time designing and creating a work of art like that for just anyone and they certainly don’t hold their hand at a Christmas market. I don’t claim to know everything but I’ve been around long enough to know when there is and isn’t something and dear, there’s something. There is most certainly something.”

“Thanks.” Cas nodded, turning his head when he heard Dean’s conversation die down. Dean had bought a few more things so his free hand was full but he seemed pleased with himself about it.

“I think I’ve spent entirely too much money today but that’s okay, that’s kind of what normally happens at these things.” He chuckled. “Not sure I wanna check out the rest of the booths though, I think they’re all clothes. You have any interest in checking them out?”

“No, I think I’m good in that department.”

“Alright. Back to your place then?”

Cas nodded, tightening his grip on Dean’s hand as the pair turned to head back towards the car. “The kids and I are supposed to make Christmas cookies, would you and Ben want to join?”

“I’m game but I’ll have to see what the kid wants to do.”

The loss of contact when Cas let go of Dean’s hand was palpable and Cas cursed himself for wanting to grab Dean’s hand again. He’d let himself slip ever since he’d met Dean and he’d slipped headfirst into romantic feelings. No strings attached hook ups had been easy through the years but this, this song and dance with Dean, this was pure torture. He was stuck in the man’s car, black as sin and beautifully maintained, and the cane tucked next to his braced knee had been lovingly hand crafted by the same man. Everything here was Dean’s, from the jacket in the back seat to the cassette collection to the air freshener that smelled like balsam and Cas wondered what it would be like to be part of that collection.

What would it be like to be Dean’s, to be with Dean? Would waking up next to him be as thrilling as Cas imagined it would be? There were so many possibilities, so many unknowns, and for once they excited Cas. If he could just get over the first hurdle then the rest of the journey would be that much easier.

“Hey you in there?” Dean chuckled, gently shaking Cas to snap him out of his thoughts. As Cas came back to reality he realized that they were home and Dean was standing outside of his car door looking rather amused. “You spaced out on me on the way home. Hope I wasn’t boring you.”

“I don’t think you could bore me if you tried.” Cas said as he got out of the car.

“I’ll take that as a compliment and a challenge. I’m gonna drop this stuff at my place and see if Ben wants to join in the cookie making then I’ll be over.”

Cas nodded and made his way inside, hanging up his coat and peeling off his boots before making his way into the kitchen. Jack and Claire were there already, aprons on and cookbooks laid out on the counter as they rifled through the cabinets for all of the ingredients. Claire glanced up when she heard the footsteps, her expression sly and knowing. “How was the market?”

“You’re lucky I love you.”

“I know.” She grinned. “How’s the new cane? It’s a collab, did Dean tell you that?”

Cas pulled a chair over to the counter, taking a seat. “He alluded to that fact. Speaking of, I invited him and Ben over to bake cookies with us.” Claire and Jack shared a look, a quick meeting of their eyes before nodding their heads. While quick, Cas picked up on it and his eyes narrowed. Looks like that were never good. “Spill. What was that?”

“What was what?” Claire asked innocently as she hauled the bag of flour from its resting place.

“The look you and Jack shared. There was a very pointed look,” Cas said though he was interrupted by the front door opening. “We’re finishing this conversation later.”

With the conversation firmly interrupted, Cas turned to see Ben and Dean in the kitchen. Dean reached for the apron he’d already used in Cas’ kitchen and put it on before handing one to Ben. Apron on, Dean turned back to Cas. “So, you’re gonna have to direct us here. We don’t bake.”

“I like the sound of bossing you around. Let’s get to work.”

With his position as boss cemented in place, Cas began to assign tasks. Dean was in charge of reading the recipe out and passing the ingredients, Jack to measuring and adding, Claire to mixing, and Ben to the miscellaneous catch-alls to ensure everything else ran smoothly. The first 20 minutes ran about as smoothly as expected but soon the ragtag team found their rhythm and the first batch of gingerbread was in the oven.

It was then that Cas helped out, mixing up several batches of icing before sliding each participant a bowl and a small bottle of dye. “Everyone gets to mix their own icing colour. Three to five drops, no more. Please don’t fuck it up and yes Dean, that means you.”

The comment, playful as it was, warranted a response equally as petty, so Dean stuck his tongue out at Cas before adding the dye to his batch and mixing until it was immersed. With the icing mixed, Cas laid out the various decorating tools and sprinkles for the cookies before returning to his seat to let the rest of the team handle removal from the oven. The recipe made four batches which meant 8 trays in the oven and by the time the 8^th tray was removed from the oven, the smell of gingerbread had taken over the entire house.

“Now that we’ve done all the hard work, can we finally decorate the cookies?” Dean asked, leaning over the counter. “Because I’ve had a killer idea for the last hour and a half and it really needs to be immortalized in icing and gingerbread.”

Cas pursed his lips for a moment before reaching out, flour covered hand firm on Dean’s shoulder. “If it’s not pg I’m kicking you out of my house.”

“I’m offended you think I’d expose these children to something x-rated.”

“You literally let your best friend start a DnD campaign with us where we heard her describe an eldritch monster erupt from a child’s stomach so I don’t think you’re allowed to be offended.” Claire said, reaching for a piping bag.

Ben laughed as he reached for sprinkles. “She’s not wrong, Dad. You’re not exactly the perfect model for human morality and decency. You’ve got shit in the sock drawer like the rest of us.”

Dean swallowed thickly, flash of pink satin streaking across his brain to match the faint flush across his cheeks. Cas noticed but said nothing, simply reaching across the counter for a gingerbread man.

“So you guys do this every year then?” Ben asked, turning to Jack.

“Yeah, have ever since we were like six. Dad said he made them before then but obviously we couldn’t help. Apparently they’re an old family recipe, got them from a recipe book our great great grandparents had.”

“That’s cool. Dad can’t bake so we don’t do that but we go get our tree every year and get hot chocolate after.”

“Dad used to do that with us but then I almost got squished one year and that kind of got kiboshed.” Claire added. “So now I torment everyone and make them watch a horror movie for Christmas.”

“Well that would be better than my Dad’s Hallmark movies. Every year he sits down and watches the same ones. Like Dad, you know how they end and they start and they go because every single one is the same. Do you really need to keep watching them?”

Busy creating his masterpiece, Dean only glanced up when he realized everyone was staring at him. “What? Do you need something?”

“They’re about to make fun of you for watching Hallmark movies.” Cas chuckled.

“Oh, that. Well you know what, some of them are actually decently written and kind of fun. Sue me for wanting to see actual romance and be happy that a couple will actually get together and stay together.”

Claire made a noise in the back of her throat but didn’t say anything else. She understood it, to a degree, but she was more interested in the implications for Dean and Cas. She’d been watching the two closely since they’d entered the kitchen but she hadn’t noticed anything too unusual and part of her wondered if it was because her and the boys were there.

“You really are a romantic.” Cas mused, eyes focused on his cookie as he spoke. “The way to your heart must be flowers, a good date, and a strict curfew. Might even throw in some good parental threats, a few ‘keep your hands off my daughter’ or ‘have fun but not too much funs’.”

“And you’re telling me you’re not a romantic? Because I’m calling bullshit right now.”

Claire glanced at Ben and Jack and simply mouthed “run”. The kids then began the slow process of extricating themselves from the kitchen, moving quietly and wordlessly while Cas and Dean spoke so they didn’t alert them. When they made it to the living room, Claire stopped and had them hover by the door as she whispered for them to watch and eavesdrop.

“I’m not a romantic.” Cas replied, reaching for another cookie. “I don’t do any of it.”

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t get me flowers if we went on a date? Because I don’t believe that for a second.” Here Dean paused and reached for the cookie he had been decorating. While crude, it was clearly decorated to look like Cas and Dean held it up. “Mr. ‘I do controlled hookups and don’t let anyone close to me’ is such a load of shit. You’ve got such a big heart and you do so much for people and you are so a romantic. Maybe you’ve forgotten how to be a romantic or you’ve just never done it before but you absolutely are. You would buy me flowers and make me breakfast in bed and do all those little things because you wanted to and that’s what romance is. So you’re romantic.”

Cas blinked at Dean, mind racing and hung up on what he had said. You would buy me flowers and make me breakfast in bed and do all those little things. Dean was right, Cas would do those things; he wanted to do things, had wanted to do those things for months. It wasn’t his fault Dean made him let his guard down, wasn’t his fault Dean made him want to dote.

Cas wanted to reach across the counter and grab Dean, to ball his hands up in his apron and kiss him until he understood. Now that would be romantic. But there were eyes watching and romance was impractical and the stars just weren’t aligning and it was too hard so he didn’t. He sat back and raised his own cookie, a gingerbread Dean.

“Two can play that game.”

“Dude, you gave me blow up doll lips.”

Cas glanced at gingerbread Dean then back at human Dean before he laughed, a deep warm laugh beginning in his belly and filling the kitchen. He couldn’t help it and he didn’t want to. It was funny, Dean was funny, and he was right. Gingerbread Dean did have blow up doll lips.

Dean watched Cas and warmth flooded his veins once again, the same warmth that had plagued him the entirety of the Christmas market. That laugh was doing horrible things to him and he wanted to hear more of it. The best way to do that was through some light mocking so Dean furrowed his brows and pursed his lips, mocking Cas’ brooding impression before dropping his voice and beginning a terrible impression of Cas.

“I’m Castiel and I’m so terribly broody I could be one of the Cullen siblings.”

“I do not sound like that.” Cas laughed, setting gingerbread Dean down. “I am not that gravelly.”

“I am too this gravelly and broody and when I get annoyed with someone I lean in real close and my words end lower.” Dean said, leaning in closer and still mimicking Cas. He could see Cas holding back laughs and knew he was winning an imaginary battle. Emboldened by the win, Dean continued. “I’m strong and silent and a good dad but also a really big softie.”

Cas crossed his arms, watching Dean. He was keenly aware of Dean entering his space and of the continued stream of verbal diarrhea as Dean tried to get a rise out of him. It was sweet, a bit like watching a puppy cry for attention and Cas had an idea. The idea was terrible and absolutely going to land him in hot water but hell, he’d already held Dean’s hand so what was the worst that could happen.

“You think you’re so cute don’t you?” Cas said calmly, eyes seeking out Dean’s. They met briefly before Cas flicked them down to Dean’s lips, just long enough to ensure Dean knew where he was looking, before meeting his gaze once again. The stunned look and flushed cheeks said it all. “I could do my impression of you but I’m trying to be nice for the spirit of Christmas so I’m gonna have a little mercy on you since you took me to the market. You can take a batch of the cookies home if you want.”

“I would love a batch of cookies.”

“Great.” Cas said as he hopped off of the chair and hobbled to the cupboard, grabbing a tupperware. He loaded it with a batch of decorated gingerbread before handing it to Dean, shepherding him into a corner of the kitchen far enough away the kids couldn’t eavesdrop in on their conversation. “Kids can’t hear us over here.”

“They’ve been listening to us?”

“The entire time.”

“God they’re horrible.” Dean sighed. “But I’ll give them credit for doing that, it’s ballsy.”

“Mhm. But I wanted to say thank you for today, for everything. Especially the cane.” It was here Cas reached out, placing his hand back on the floury handprint he’d left on Dean’s shoulder a few hours ago. “I don’t think words can truly express what it means to me, what you doing that for me means to me.”

Dean’s heart skipped a beat at Cas’ touch while his brain held onto what he had said, to the you of it all. He meant something by that, he had to. The man meant something with everything he said and this was no exception. Dean had seen the tears and he’d seen Cas’ smile of joy when he’d been able to move easier. Hell, he’d felt Cas reach for and hold his hand. That wasn’t nothing.

He could kiss him now, that was an option. If the man was open to public handholding then surely he was open to a kiss? That was the only logical conclusion. But the kids were there and they were watching and the spark of courage in Dean’s stomach died, snuffed out like a spent match.

“Just take care of yourself, alright? No more ‘I’m a manly man and don’t need help’ bullshit, not when you’ve got people in your corner. I’ll see you later.” Dean said, clapping a hand on Cas’ shoulder before pulling away.

Dean removed his apron and hung it up before collecting the batch of cookies and Ben, heading out the door and back home. Cas stood there in silence, finally able to breathe now that Dean and the tension that came with him were finally gone, and took a moment to gather his thoughts before turning around. “You can stop eavesdropping now and come out. No point in pretending.”

Claire and Jack emerged from their spot in the living room, returning to the kitchen. Jack looked like they always did but Claire’s expression was unusual, a soft knowing that was uncharacteristically mature for her. It unnerved Cas and he looked away, busying himself with divvying up the remaining cookies in their assigned containers. Claire stood beside him to help and a few minutes later she broke the silence. “You like him.”

“He’s my friend, of course I like him. Might be a slight issue if I didn’t.”

“That’s not what she meant, Dad, and you know it.” Jack said, standing on the opposite side of the counter so they could help too.

“What makes you think I like him like that?”

Claire turned to Cas, expression unimpressed. Her tone was blunt. “Because we have eyes.”

“What Claire’s trying to say is that you haven’t had anyone over since your birthday which is really weird for you and you’ve also stopped going out to see people. You keep having Dean over and going to do things with Dean and there’s nothing wrong with that but it happens so often and so much that it doesn’t really feel like a friend thing, not to us.”

“None of that even touches on the fact that you told him your entire traumatic backstory and let him help with an episode.” Claire added. “You don’t tell people about that and you sure as hell don’t let them help you so obviously he’s special to you. And the cane thing, do I even have to go there? Because I know how many hours he spent on that and I did the math cost wise and all I’m saying is that you don’t do just do that for someone out of the goodness of your heart. Not something that detailed.”

“And your point with all of this is what exactly?”

“Our point is that you like him romantically and we both know it. We just want to know if you’ve figured it out yet.”

Cas looked between his kids before sighing deeply, scrubbing a hand over his face as he dropped into the chair he’d been sitting in all day. He’d expected this line of questioning from his kids at some point but not this soon and not when he was feeling like he was, with the pain tinging the edges of his vision white hot. There was no point in lying to them either, not when they’d already figured it out, so Cas resigned himself to being honest.

“I do like him, I won’t deny that. Are you happy now?”

“He likes you back, you know that right? Like you’ve noticed, right?” Claire asked, reaching for a leftover cookie to snack on.

“Claire, he’s straight. I don’t think he likes me back.”

“Except he does. Even I’ve noticed that, so has Ben. He told me Dean likes you like that.” Jack said. “Cane example aside, you two are way too cuddly to just be friends and like the coffee chats and the inside jokes and that necklace thing at Ben’s party. Yeah, I saw that.”

Cas made a face, curling his lips in and widening his eyes as he glanced down. He’d hoped no one had seen that.

“Okay so you like him and he likes you, so go do something about it. Just kiss him, it’s not that hard.”

Cas looked up at Claire, thoroughly unimpressed. “Need I remind you of us having to tell you about your feelings for Kaia before anything happened between you two? And it’s not that simple, I wouldn’t be here if it was. You can’t push someone who’s not comfortable with their sexuality into a relationship or a coupling or whatever it is we might be and knowing what he’s been through with his ex, I’m not about to pressure him into anything. That’s just called being an asshole.”

“So you’re just doing nothing then? That doesn’t seem right.”

“I never said I’m doing nothing, Claire. What I’m doing and how I choose to interact with Dean really isn’t any of your business and as your Dad, I’m asking you to please stay out of this. This is one of those incredibly sensitive things where meddling of any kind will blow up in your face and I am not willing to deal with that. So now that you know please just stay out of it.”

“We’re not gonna meddle, relax Dad.” Claire replied, as calm as ever. “For the record, Dean doesn’t suck as much as I thought he did and you seem happy so go for it.”

“Glad to know I’ve got your support, thanks. Now come on, let’s get this cleaned up so we can relax. It’s getting gross out and your old man is getting tired.”

Both Claire and Jack nodded, the conversation ended as they got to work cleaning up the cookies. Cas cleaned alongside them, relief washing over him. The big secret was out and he didn’t have to hide it anymore, not that he had been trying to hide it very much to begin with. But more than that, Claire and Jack seemed supportive of it.

For whatever it was worth, their blessing gave Cas the sense that he was on the right path and that seeing where he and Dean might end up was the right thing to do

Chapter Text

Sam was no stranger to arguments and negotiation tactics. He'd read books about it, been to seminars about it, hell he used it every day in his job at the firm, but this argument was different. Jess had barely spoken to him when they left Dean's on thanksgiving and Sam knew he'd fucked up. Her anger seethed beneath the surface but she never let it boil over and that felt worse. He watched as she threw herself into work and renovations and everything except talking to him. he tried to talk to her, to broach the subject of how he'd fucked up, but she wasn't having it. Conversation was short, clipped. Sex was non-existent. 

When Sam and Jess arrived at Mary's Christmas morning, Sam wanted to be in good spirits; it was the first time in years he'd been able to spend the holidays with his family, his entire family, and he was looking forward to it but, he wasn't. He wasn't because of Jess, because of the five words she had said to him the entire morning. 

It reached a head in the car when Sam parked, reaching out to catch Jess' wrist before she could leave the car. "We need to talk before we go inside."

Jess looked over at him, lips pursed as she withdrew her hand. She hadn't touched Sam in a month and she wasn't about to start now. "Do we?"

"Yeah. You've been cold as hell to me since Thanksgiving and I know work's been crazy but something's up and I don't like it. We always talk about our issues so I don't get why you're being like this."

"Think back to Thanksgiving. Any clue why I might be upset?"

Sam sighed, thinking back to the day in question. The morning had been fine and so had the afternoon. The meal was pleasant and so was the conversation and sure there was that little hiccup with Dean at the end but that was minor in the grand scheme of things. it didn't warrant being iced out, not in his opinion. "I don't know." he said, shrugging his shoulders. "I guess there was that hiccup with Dean but that's not really a big deal."

"The hiccup with Dean is a huge deal, Sam. And yes, that's why I'm upset."

"Dean and I argue all the time, it's literally the point of having a sibling. He made it a big deal and got pissed at me first."

"Because you pushed and made an assumption about a deeply personal issue!" Jess replied, tone short. "He told you that they weren't dating and you should've left it at that. There was no need for you to mention how much they touched or the fact that he brought his friend and his friend's kids over. You completely overstepped and crossed a boundary when it was clear you shouldn't have."

"You made an assumption too." Sam shot back, arms crossing defensively.

"I did and I shouldn't have but I didn't push him after he looked uncomfortable and said they weren't dating and I didn't bring up Lisa and I didn't say 'I don't think a straight man would have that reaction to a simple question'."

"Well a straight man wouldn't have that reaction to that question. Sorry that all I wanted to do was make things clearer so I didn't offend anyone."

Jess pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. "You don't make assumptions about people's sexuality and you don't push when they give you an answer that you don't like or believe. I don't care that siblings argue and I don't care that you were just trying to clear it up. What you did was out of line and it really hurt him and I haven't said anything until now because I really didn't want to yell at you for being an asshole. "I'd hoped you would've come to the logical conclusion that you needed to apologize by yourself."

"Okay so maybe I shouldn't have assumed but it isn't like I can take back what I said."

"I don't want you to take back what you said, I want you to apologize to him for being an ass. You should've apologized a month ago." Jess said sharply before she left the car, retrieving the presents from the trunk before heading inside.

Sam sighed deeply before pocketing his keys and following her inside. She was busy putting the gifts under the tree and finding a place for their dish on the kitchen table so Sam headed for the kitchen and Mary, giving her a hug. 

"What did you do to upset your wife?" She chuckled as she let go of Sam, returning to the pot of boiling potatoes. "She came roaring right in, must've lit a fire under her."

"I haven't apologized to Dean about thanksgiving, that's what. Apparently my comments were way out of line and a bigger deal than I thought and she's pissed I didn't realize that and apologize."

Mary nodded her head. "They were out of line and you should apologize. I should too for that matter."

"Why would you apologize? You didn't make any weird comments. All you said was that you could've introduced Cas as a partner and that we wouldn't have cared."

"I didn't step in, for one. I'm your mother, it's quite literally my job to step in and stop arguments." She replied, turning her back so she could drain the potatoes. "It's also about the assumption of it all. How would you react if someone assumed you were gay?"

"Not well," Sam admitted.

"Exactly. Like he said, it's not really any of our business and we can't put him on some arbitrary timeline just because we see things he doesn't. Maybe he knows his feelings, maybe he doesn't. Either way, it isn't for us to decide. Now I'm going to apologize and I suggest you do the same."

Sam sighed, irritation creasing his brow. She was right and so was Jess and he hated it. He hated being in the wrong and he hated apologizing and he knew Dean never liked apologies either. It was going to be like pulling teeth but it had to be done. For the sake of familial bonds and keeping the peace, he had to apologize. 

~

The knock on Dean’s door was enough to startle him awake, body shifting as he pulled the blankets closer to his face.

“Dad, I let you sleep in as long as possible. You literally can’t avoid getting up any more.”

“Tell them I’m sick, that’s why I didn’t show up.”

Ben flicked the light on and with the mercy of an unimpressed Roman emperor made his way to the bed, grabbing the blankets and pulling them off of Dean. He scooped up Spork so that Dean wouldn’t roll him over, still watching as Dean begrudgingly sat up.

“It’s gonna be completely fine.”

"I don't want to deal with Sam." Dean muttered, still sitting in bed. "Not after Thanksgiving. He still hasn't apologized for being an asshole. It's just going to be awkward."

Ben sighed, padding over to the bed. He sat beside Dean and waited until Spork had jumped up onto Dean's lap to talk. "I know it's gonna be really uncomfortable and yeah he was an asshole but Aunt Jess absolutely said something to him about what happened and he's probably gonna apologize. You won't get the apology if you don't go."

“I know, I know. It's just that this is all so new and I wasn't ready to talk about it with them yet and I feel like him apologizing is going to force me to talk about it and he doesn't exactly need to know that I'm in love with my best friend because then he's gonna be right and turn into a smug self-satisfied asshole.”

"You don't have to tell him, no one's forcing you to. If he approaches you and apologizes it, you either don't accept it or accept it and move on. You don't owe him an explanation about your feelings for Cas. I'll tell him to fuck off if you need me to."

"You shouldn't tell your uncle to fuck off but thank you. I appreciate you having my back." Dean replied, still uneasy but relaxing slightly. "Give me twenty to get ready and then we can go."

“Sounds good. I’ll get everything in the car then.”

Dean waited until Ben left before he dragged himself out of bed and to the bathroom, showering to wake up. As he showered he thought back to Thanksgiving and to the argument. Sam hadn't been wrong and had he asked privately, Dean knew he'd probably have told him. It was how public it was that that bothered him the most. If Sam apologized, Dean thought as he got out of the shower and dried off, and meant it then he'd accept it and move on. No point in burning down the white flag he'd already offered Sam. A quick trim of the facial hair he’d decided to keep ever since Cas had called it ruggedly charming one tipsy night at the bar and some styling of his hair with some pomade and then he was getting dressed and heading down the stairs.

True to his word, Ben had loaded the car and was waiting outside but Dean paused when he was on the steps. Ben was in the driver’s seat, his seat, and it felt like staring into a mirror. Of course he knew Ben had his learners and was driving and wanted to drive but giving up control of baby was damn near impossible. That car meant as much to Dean as Ben did. Still, Dean sucked it up and slid into the passenger seat.

“The roads are gonna be icy with all this snow so drive slow, okay. Brake slow.”

Ben nodded his head and started the drive to Mary’s, eyes constantly on the road as he drove. It wasn’t until the first red light that he spoke. “I didn’t think you’d let me drive. You never let anyone drive.”

“You need practice in the winter.” Dean shrugged, though his constant surveillance of the road betrayed just how not relaxed he was. “And I only let people I trust drive Baby. So you and Charlie and occasionally your Grandma. Baby’s special to me, I just want to make sure she’s taken care of.”

“Why is the car so special?”

“She was my Dad’s, that’s why. He spent hours working on this car when I was a kid and I’d sit there and help him, hold the flashlight and pass him the tools and whatnot. It’s the one thing I have left of him so it’s a comfort, that’s all.”

“What was he like?” Ben asked, turning his head to check a blind spot before turning onto Mary’s road.

“Well I mean I was 4 when he died but he was a good Dad as far as I remember. Always there for me, took his time to explore whatever I was interested in in the time. I like to think he’d be pretty proud of you and how you’re growing up.”

“Well thanks.” Ben said, pulling into Mary’s driveway and parking without incident. “Are you gonna be good if we go in?”

“I’ll be fine. Better to get this over with now.”

Popping the trunk after they got out of the car, Dean grabbed the presents they had brought and Ben grabbed the dessert they had made together. The door was open by the time they got there and Mary smiled, stepping aside to let them in. She let Ben in first and let him pass but stopped Dean before he could get any further.

“I told your brother to be on his best behaviour so you shouldn’t have any outbursts like Thanksgiving again.”

Dean nodded, turning away to kick off his boots. “Thanks.”

Dean set the presents in the living room before making his way to the kitchen, smiling tightly when he saw Sam and Jess. He had nothing against Jess, she had been lovely and it wasn’t her fault that she had made assumptions based on behaviour she was seeing. It was Sam that bothered him, Sam and his aggressive judging and retorts that weren’t as clever as he thought they were.

“How’d that meeting with Cas and your bosses go?” Dean asked as he sat down at the kitchen table, opting for conversation and peace. If Sam wanted to apologize, he'd have to bring it up himself.

“Terrible.”

“Figured it would.” Dean said, reaching out to grab a glass of eggnog. Of course he knew how the meeting had gone because Cas had come over that night and spent close to two hours bitching about his hatred for corporate lawyers and their soul sucking lack of respect for anything that wasn’t within the letter of the law and black and white. “How bad was it?”

“I think it started wrong when he walked in wearing jeans and a knit sweater. The bosses were expecting someone in a suit, someone put together and he just looked like a normal dude off the street.”

“Yeah you’re never gonna find him in a suit. I don’t even think he owns a dress shirt.”

Sam nodded his head. “Yeah. Well he came in and my bosses came on too strong and too corporate and dissed a lot of his efforts and work and he got pissed about it and fairly retaliated and then left with no plan for cooperation. If they’d let me talk to him then I think we could’ve worked something out but obviously I’m a junior associate so I have no actual power.”

Dean thought for a moment, chewing his lip as he mulled over his options. In the end he opted to play nice, doing his best to bridge the gap and extend another olive branch. “I can talk to him if you want, see if he’d be willing to talk to you about a partnership. Might work in your favour if you two have a solid plan and you go to your bosses or your bosses’ boss with it? Initiative and ambition and all that jazz.”

“And you would be willing to do that why?” Sam asked, eyebrow raised. “Because last time we talked I called you gay and we had a fight and you hold grudges like a Scorpio so you should still be pissed at me. Being pissed and offering to help don’t go together.”

“Oh I’m still pissed but I’m a new me and the new me doesn’t hold grudges, he thinks about things and then moves on if they don’t suit him. Being pissy with you doesn’t suit me. Also I know Cas wants to do more with his non-profit and I really think a partnership is what he needs to get where he wants. It’s as much about him as it is you.”

Sam reached out to press his hand against Dean’s forehead. Dean looked at him with confusion as did everyone else but it was Jess that called him out for it, shaking her head as she pulled his hand away. “He doesn’t have a fever and he hasn’t been replaced, stop being a dick. I for one think it’s great that he’s offering to help and if you were smart you’d say thank you and move on.”

“Thank you.” Sam said, removing his hand. "Also, I'm sorry. For Thanksgiving I mean. I shouldn't have assumed and I shouldn't have called you out and I shouldn't have argued. What you do and who you like is your business, not mine. Didn't mean to make you feel pressured or anything."

Dean raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. A public apology was a bold strategy. "You shouldn't have assumed, you're right. You're right about shouldn't have been calling out and arguing too. What did you think was gonna happen when you insinuated I was fucking my best friend?"

"I don't know, maybe an admission you were? I'm trying to get to know you again after all that radio silence and part of that is knowing your love life. Yeah I went about it all wrong but I just wanted to get to know you. So again, I'm really sorry being a judgmental asshole."

"I'm not fucking happy with what you did, let's make that clear, but I'll accept the apology. I know being an ass kind of comes with the being a lawyer territory. Just don't do that shit again." Dean said, sipping his eggnog. By then Mary nearly had lunch ready so she had everyone scoot to the sides so she could set everything on the table, Ben getting up to help her do so. When it was set, the Winchesters sat down to eat.

The meal itself was pleasant: ham and lasagna accompanied by several vegetables and some other side dishes. It was all healthy of course, meant to accommodate Sam’s new diet, but it wasn’t bad and Dean found himself going in for seconds. Relatively quiet, aside from the odd request for salt or butter, the meal passed with little conversation and Ben once again helped Mary remove the food and set the dessert down.

“Oh that looks delicious.” Jess said as she lay her eyes on the dessert Dean and Ben had brought, a strawberry pretzel pie. “Sam told me that you two don’t bake so what’s with the dessert?”

“Dad wanted to bring something and technically we still don’t bake. Didn’t go anywhere near an oven for this one, just mixers and fridges. Cas shared a few easy recipes and Dad wanted to try one.”

Jess nodded and took a large slice, Dean and Ben following suit. Even Sam tried a bite though his scrunch of disgust was more than enough feedback for Dean. Too much sugar probably. Everyone else seemed to like it though and that helped Dean relax.

Moving into the living room post dessert, Dean took up residence in one of the arm chairs before looking over at Ben. “Why don’t you hand out everyone’s gifts?”

“Why do I have to do it? Can’t you do it?” Ben complained though he did get up and begin to distribute the gifts.

“I’m old and your dad so I get to boss you around. That’s why.”

“That’s code for being lazy.” Sam whispered to Ben when Ben passed by him.

Ben laughed to himself before he finished distributing the presents, returning to his spot on the floor. There wasn’t much fanfare as everyone opened their gifts though Dean was watching his family like a hawk, excited to see their reactions. He loved giving gifts, loved seeing people’s reactions when they got to open something that was specially picked out for them.

Mary got a brand new wooden spoon for the kitchen, hand carved by Dean and made to accommodate and help the shakiness in her hands he’d noticed the last time he had visited her. It was a simple gift but he knew she’d appreciate it and he knew it’d be useful.

Now Sam and Jess had been harder to find a gift for but Dean had managed to and he was praying they liked them. For Jess, it was a hand carved doctor statute made from cocobolo wood he’d had left over from a furniture project. Aside from the fact she was a doctor, he thought it might be nice to have a little trinket for the hospital or her bedroom or something. She smiled and thanked Dean, thumb running over the face carved into the wood. It was a face that felt like hers.

Sam opened his gift, expecting nothing or a prank as some form of revenge for the Thanksgiving debacle he was supposedly now forgiven for. What he got instead was a large box that he opened suspiciously. His eyes widened when he saw the contents and then he looked up at Dean in disbelief. “You kept it all this time?”

“Of course I did. Needed it so I could torment you again.” Dean grinned. “Thought you could keep it and if you ever have a kid, maybe they’d like it. Mine’s a bit old to be playing with dolls now.”

“Weirdly sentimental but thanks.”

Dean shrugged it off, watching as Ben opened his gifts. They were all tailored to his interests of course, a vintage monster figurine gifted to him by Mary and a detailed colouring book of anatomy from Sam and Jess so that he could start getting into his scientific interests. Ben thanked them all, thrilled with it.

“Well, everyone’s opened everything except for you, So come on, open.” Mary said, handing Dean the single present that was under the tree for him. “We all did this together, that’s why there’s only one.”

Dean took the small box from Mary and examined it. Wrapped in laughing Santa wrapping paper, the box was lighter than he’d expected and he had no clue what was in it. Tossing the paper aside once he’d pulled it off, Dean looked at what was inside. Sitting on a bed of padding was a necklace, a brass amulet strung on a leather cord. When Dean looked back up at Mary, it was through a veil of tears.

“How did- where did- is this real?”

“It’s real.” Mary said gently.

“I found it in a bag I took with me when I went to Stanford. It was tucked in one of the side pockets, no idea how long it was there.” Sam explained. “I know how close you and Dad were, thought you should have it.”

Dean swallowed thickly, shaky hands freeing the necklace and slipping it over his neck. The amulet sat heavy on his chest, the weight of it a comfort Dean didn’t know he’d needed. “I uh, I’m gonna get some air. Thank you.” He said, pulling himself from the couch and making a hasty retreat to the front porch.

The air was cool on Dean’s face as he made his way outside, hands roughly wiping away the tears that were falling freely. He leaned against the railing, staring at the car that had been his father’s and fiddling with the amulet that had been his father’s. So much of his life had been influenced by John’s death and it still was. Dean didn’t know how long he stood there but eventually there was a creak and he turned his head as Mary stepped onto the porch, two mugs of something warm in her hands.

“I thought you could use some tea and some company.”

Dean nodded his head and made room for Mary. The mug of tea was warm in his hands, steam rising towards his face. A few minutes passed in silence before Dean spoke. “Do you think he’d be proud of me?”

“You’ve made something out of yourself and you’ve got Ben, I think he’d be more than proud.” Mary said, reaching out to pat Dean’s back soothingly. “Your dad and I weren’t perfect people, still aren’t, but he really loved you and Sam. I remember telling him I was pregnant with you and he just- he came alive. He got so excited about picking out baby clothes and decorating the nursery and he swore up and down that his kid was going to be a tradesman and know what hard work was like.”

“Well he got that part right.”

Mary glanced over at Dean, eyes scanning his face. Redness and puffiness aside, there was something in the way he stared out at the driveway that bothered her. He had something else to say but he wasn’t saying it which wasn’t uncommon for Winchesters. Very gently she prodded. “That makes it sound like there’s something you think he wouldn’t get right.”

“How would he feel about the whole not married with a kid thing?”

“Well Ben’s healthy and you seem happy so I don’t think he’d think much of it. He never really cared about the no marriage and kids thing.” She shrugged. “Is there something else?”

Dean thought for a moment, debating on what to tell Mary. He wanted her opinion and advice but this was terrifying, the thought of telling her something he didn’t fully understand enough to send a chill down his spine. But he pressed on, staring into the lukewarm mug of tea as he talked.

“Thanksgiving, what happened with Sam and I when we argued and what it was about. Cas and I, we’re not… together but I-“ Dean paused, swallowing the lump in his throat- “I want us to be.”

“And you’re worried about what we would all think.”

Dean nodded, still staring at the tea.

“Well you’re my son and I’ll love you no matter what so you’re stuck with me. I want to apologize for thanksgiving while we're out here, for how I reacted as well. I should have stepped in and I didn't and I'm sorry. As for your Dad, if you’re looking for his approval,” she said, her voice quieting. She knew the truth and it wasn’t great but one little white lie wouldn’t hurt, especially if the lie concerned a man dead for 29 years. “I doubt he’d care much one way or another. He never gave much thought to it. As long as you’re happy, that’s all we want.”

Relief flooded Dean’s veins as he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He turned and Mary was there with a hug, arms wrapping tightly around him. She waited until they were close before she whispered, “For the record, I approve.”

“Guess we should get back in there before Sam turns my kid against me.” Dean said as he pulled away, sucking back another swell of emotion. "But thank you for the apology."

There was little fanfare as Dean and Mary made it back inside, depositing their mugs in the sink before finding everyone else in the living room. Ben was deep in conversation with Jess, sitting beside her on the couch as the two talked. She seemed invested in it too, gesturing wildly and smiling when Ben asked further probing questions.

Sam was off to the side and glanced over at Dean. “You gonna live?”

“I’ll be fine, thanks for asking. How long have those two been talking?”

“Started as soon as you left and haven’t stopped. He’s 100% gonna try to go into medicine and I think Jess’ll help him. I’ve never seen her so excited about someone asking so many questions before and that includes when we were dating.”

“Guess I raised a smart kid.”

“Seems like it. Got any advice for prospective parents?”

“Wet wipes. Carry them always.”

Sam made a face of disgust but nodded his head, making a mental note of the advice. When they turned their attention back to the group, both Ben and Jess were on their feet and heading over. Ben stopped by Dean. “So, I think we should get going. We do have those movie plans.”

Dean nodded his head, saying his goodbyes to everyone before he and Ben headed out. He let Ben drive home, only making a few minor comments when there was something Ben could improve on. By the time they pulled into the driveway, the Novaks were stepping out and Dean waved at them.

“Glad to see you survived Christmas with the family.” Cas said as he stopped by Dean, letting all three kids run past them and into the house. He could see the faint remnants of tears on Dean's cheeks but chose not to comment. If Dean wanted to tell him what happened then he would. “Guess they must be excited to watch the movie.”

“I think they just want to take the couch and make us sit on the floor. You three have a good morning?”

Cas nodded his head, not bothering to elaborate. What he did do was extend his hand out to Dean, a wrapped present in it. “Thought you should have a present too.”

Dean took the present and unwrapped it very carefully. Sitting in his hands was the copy of Slaughterhouse 5 he’d loaned Cas months ago but something was different about it. Colourful tabs stuck out every which way and when Dean flipped through the book, he came across highlighted sections and scrawled notes in Cas’ delicate handwriting.

“It’s not a handmade cane or anything but I thought you might like it.” Cas said, sounding uncharacteristically unsure of himself. “You said it was your favourite so I thought maybe I’d read it and get to know you better too.”

Dean’s smile widened as he clutched the book close to his chest, heart beating just a little bit faster now. “I love it, thank you. Now come on, let’s get inside before one of them burns the house down.”

With that the pair made their way into the house, Dean checking the kitchen to see if the kids were there. They weren’t but they were all in the living room, sitting in and around the arm chair with a bowl of popcorn and a cat looming over them like a calico gargoyle.

“There’s a bowl for you guys on the coffee table, figured we’d make one since you were probably gonna be slow at getting in.” Ben said as he turned his head. “Also we picked a movie so hopefully you’re cool with vampires.”

“Not very Christmassy.” Dean said as he sat in the middle of the couch, settling into the cushions.

“There’s mountains and snow so it’s close enough.” Claire said from her spot in the arm chair. “We’ve got forbidden love too because that seems situationally appropriate.”

Dean narrowed his eyes but didn’t say much in response. He shifted to make room for Cas, distinctly aware of just how close they were. They always sat close but now that he was aware of himself, it felt like torment. He could feel Cas’ leg pressed against his, the space between the rest of their bodies somehow impossibly long, and Dean wanted nothing more than to lean in and erase it.

“Are you gonna be okay sitting like this or do you wanna stretch your legs out?” Dean asked, glad to have the noise from the tv as cover for their quiet conversation.

“I think I’ll be fine for now but I might have to stretch out later, not sure yet. Trying a new balm that seems to be helping so they’re less achey and more crampy than anything.”

“Well let me know.”

Cas nodded before turning his attention to the movie. Try as he might to watch it and be interested, his mind kept wandering and eventually he gave into the wanderings. He mused about how he’d be making a move if it was a normal date, that he’d wrap his arm around Dean and pull him close. Maybe they’d be making out by the beginning of act two, all wandering hands and hungry lips and bodies that weren’t made to make out on a couch. But the kids were there and that move was too bold so he didn’t make it. What Cas did instead was reach across Dean for the popcorn bowl and position himself directly against Dean’s side as he did so.

“Want some?” he asked, chancing a quick glance up at Dean as he settled in against the man’s side. Dean had tensed, only for a moment, but made no move to reject the closeness. His eyes were glued to the screen but Cas knew better, he knew exactly what that nervous little swallow meant.

Dean, suddenly aware of how snuggled against his side Cas was, was face with yet another choice. He could remain the way he was, his arm trapped between the two of them with no hope of escape and every chance of falling asleep or he could free his arm and do something with it. It couldn’t be the old yawn and stretch, that was too cheesy, but just doing it seemed like too much with the kids around. In the end, refusing to let his arm succumb to the pins and needles, Dean freed it from in between them and slid it behind Cas to rest on the back of the couch.

Cas practically deflated with disappointment. An arm across the back of the couch wasn’t what he wanted. It wasn’t close enough.

“I’m good for now but thanks.” Dean finally said, sounding every bit as collected as ever.

Conversation ended and success stalled, Cas did his best to watch the movie. Somewhere after the first hour he felt the familiar beginnings of leg pain, cramps knifing their way into his calves and he winced in response. He’d been so absorbed in the movie and his failure he’d completely forgotten to move his legs and now he was paying for it. Shifting away from Dean, Cas reached down to massage his calves and break up the tension.

“Legs bugging you?” Dean asked almost immediately, turning slightly so he could face Cas better.

“Yeah, a little. Got wrapped up in the movie, didn’t move them enough. I’ll be fine, just need to massage the cramps out.”

The words left Dean’s mouth before he could think about them. “Need help?”

“The kids are here, might be a little weird if they turn around and see you doing that.”

“They’re sucked into the movie, they won’t notice.” Dean said, gesturing to the trio who were indeed glued to the screen. “And there’s an hour left. Don’t think it’s gonna take an hour to fix your legs.”

Cas debated for a moment before deciding to accept Dean’s help. He scooted to the end of the couch before swinging his legs up, laying them across Dean’s lap. They fit there nicely, he thought to himself, but the thought was quickly replaced when he felt Dean’s hands begin to rub. Dean had helped almost five times with bad pain days now and each time he got better and better at it, firmer hands undoing knots in all the right spots. This time was no exception and Dean’s hands were already making quick work of the knots, distilling the pain into something more manageable.

“I don’t get how you’re so good at this.” Cas said, eyes half closed as he began to relax. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“I work with my hands, that’s all there is to it. You look tired, you sleep okay last night?”

Cas shook his head. “Between the pain and dreams, not really.”

“Dreams?”

“Yeah, dreams. Not like nightmares or anything so don’t worry about that.” Cas replied, immensely glad the living room was dark enough to hide the flush of his cheeks. He hadn’t meant to add the dreams part but it was too late to turn back now. “I’ve been having a bit of a problem lately, I guess. Well not really a problem but I’m not exactly hooking up with anyone anymore.”

That gave Dean pause, his hands stopping while he processed the information. When he resumed massaging the remaining cramps out, his eyes were focusing somewhere just right of Cas’ head. He tried to keep his tone casual, curious even, and prayed it worked. “Well that’s new. What inspired that lifestyle change?”

“That’s a little complicated. All that to say that it’s given me some interesting dreams lately.”

“Oh I know all about being pent up, that shit sucks and not in the fun way.” Dean chuckled, trying desperately not to think about the dreams that had been plaguing his sleep for weeks. He looked back at Cas, unsurprised to find him with his eyes closed and his breathing deeper. Cas always seemed to fall asleep after this. “Why don’t you stretch out and have a nap? I can fill you in on the rest of the movie.”

“If you had a throw pillow on your couch like a normal person I would. But you refuse to enter the twenty first century so.”

Dean sighed for a moment before an idea popped into his brain. Was it a good idea, not particularly, but it was a solution to the problem nonetheless. He gently lifted Cas’ legs before scooting all the way to the other end of the couch. “Here, turn around and stretch out. Just lay your head in my lap, I’m sure that’ll be comfortable enough.”

“Seems a little invasive but if you’re sure.” Cas said, turning himself around on the couch. In the end he lay on his back, legs stretched out as he lay his head on Dean’s lap. Dean’s thighs were comfortable, firm with just a little give and warm too. Folding his hands together, Cas closed his eyes.

For a few minutes Dean sat there, doing everything in his power not to think about the head in his lap or how much he wanted to lean down and kiss the lips on that face. It proved impossible in the end so Dean gave up, choosing to study Cas’ sleeping face. He’d seen it before but the difference between Halloween and now was night and day. Cas was relaxed now, the worry lines gone from his face and his expression serene as he rested. There was an almost angelic quality to the way in which he rested and Dean, whether he realized it or not had reached out to brush a stray piece of hair from Cas’ forehead. When he did realize what he’d done, he decided to just go for it and began to play with Cas’ hair. He smoothed it and ran his fingers through it, a slow repetitive gesture that seemed to soothe both of them.

As the movie neared the end, Dean figured he should probably stop mussing up Cas’ hair and move his head out of his lap just to avoid being flamed by the kids but he really didn’t want to. Ben knew so the others had to know and truth be told, it’d be a hell of a lot easier to navigate if they knew. Dean looked up just as the credits were ending and the kids were turning around.

“He’s asleep so keep it quiet.” Dean said before they could say anything, fingers still running through Cas’ hair.

None of the kids seemed phased and Ben simply got up to grab a pop from the kitchen, leaving Dean alone with the Novaks. Jack flashed Dean a thumbs up but didn’t question him further on it. That left Claire and she stared at the two of them, eyes scanning the way they were positioned. “He really trusts you if he’s falling asleep in your lap.”

“He’s just tired, doubt I’m all that special.”

“Except you totally are.” She replied. “Ask him who he’s dreaming about you, then you’ll see.”

“Well that’s invasive so I won’t be doing that.”

“Just like you haven’t been making moves or kissing him? You’re stonewalling yourself.”

“Once again, none of your business. And people move at different speeds so don’t shame people for going slow.”

Claire shook her head, reaching for the cat to hold as her and Dean talked. “There’s a difference between going slow and then torturing yourself and as someone who spent years torturing themself over liking their best friend, I think I’m uniquely qualified to speak on this.”

“I’m not torturing myself, I just-“

“If you say you’re unsure about how he feels I’m gonna sic Spork on you and you won’t like the outcome. We all know how you feel about each other and so do you, pretty sure baking cookies made that like crystal clear. So one of you has to make the first move and I don’t think it’s gonna be my Dad.”

“He’s got so much experience, why wouldn’t he make the first move?”

Claire shrugged. “I dunno, I’m not in his head. Probably forgot how to be romantic or he’s nervous about the whole this is your first dude thing because this is clearly your first dude thing. My advice, for what it’s worth, have a sit down dinner date and make your intentions clear. Or just tell him and go from there.”

“You’re weirdly self actualized now, that’s kind of terrifying. Definitely not the same person who nuked my life.”

“That’s therapy for ya.”

Ben returned from the kitchen a few minutes later, handing a coke to Claire and Jack. “Do I want to know what you two were talking about?”

“The fact that our Dads are slow as fuck and playing the worst game of stalemated chess known to man.”

“I don’t think I want to be a part of this conversation. I’ve done enough meddling and what they do is their business. Besides, this is a surprisingly big move for my Dad so…”

“And you two are gonna wake him up if you keep talking so I suggest you go upstairs and hang out.”

“Well you two crazy kids have fun!” Claire grinned, taking her coke and the cat before making her way up to Ben’s room. Ben and Jack followed, Ben shooting Dean a thumbs up before he vanished up the stairs.

Dean, left alone with Cas now, simply picked up the annotated book he had been given and began to read. He read every single page and every single note for a good half hour, fingers still playing with Cas’ hair. Cas’ notes amused him, funny little comments and observations that felt so intimate and personal it was almost intrusive to read. It was only when he felt Cas begin to stir that Dean put the book down, simply watching and waiting.

“Morning sunshine, how you feeling now?” Dean asked, chuckling when Cas blinked groggily at him. Seeing him wake up was sweet and Dean found himself struck by the desire to see that sleepy expression every morning.

“Better. You’ve got a comfortable lap.”

Dean smiled softly, twirling a lock of hair around his finger. “And you’ve got really soft hair. Must be that all natural shampoo bar you use.”

“Were you snooping in my shower the last time you came over?”

“I was curious, can’t fault me.” Dean shrugged. “You’ve snooped through mine, it seemed fair.”

“I guess that’s fair. I don’t see the kids, where’d they go?”

“Upstairs, didn’t want them waking you up. Not if you’ve been sleeping like shit and having weird pent up dreams. Trust me, I’ve been there. Pent up dreams aren’t for the weak.”

“Nice to know we’re both suffering.” Cas said, still looking up at Dean. He could feel the fingers in his hair and each touch sent shivers down his spine, fueling the warmth in his stomach. Cas prayed it wouldn’t reach his face. “You ever have any luck with trying to get closer to that really experienced person? Been meaning to ask about that for a bit.”

“Getting there, I think. Bit hard to make a move still, no clue what the fuck I’m doing and I’m not exactly the kind of guy that’ll just go up and kiss them either. Trying to tell them I’m interested and I think they’re getting the message but I can’t bring myself to just outright say it. That’s a little too scary I think.”

Cas nodded his head. At this point he’d put two and two together and was getting that Dean was all for him but knowing that and acting on it were two separate things. It was so obvious and if it hadn’t been before, the way Dean was looking down at him just cemented it. “I think he knows.”

Dean stiffened, fingers stopping in Cas’ hair. Four simple words and suddenly he couldn’t catch his breath, air escaping his lungs and lump forming in his throat. His heart raced too, hummingbird frantic as it tried to jump into his throat. It was one thing to assume that Cas knew but hearing proof straight from the horse’s mouth was something else entirely. The proof terrified him.

“I didn’t say it was a guy.”

Cas cursed himself, pulling away from Dean as he sat up. “You didn’t have to. I’ve been down that road, I know the feeling.”

Dean nodded his head, unable to look at Cas. This was a huge moment and he couldn’t find the words to speak, not when it really mattered. He wanted to tell Cas that he was right, that it was him, but he didn’t know how to do it in a way that wasn’t blunt or rude or anything remotely close to nice.

“These things take time, don’t stress yourself out about it.” Cas murmured. “You’ll get there and he’ll wait.”

Dean chanced a glance at Cas, eyes meeting his. “Will he?”

“He will, for you.”

Chapter Text

“Thank you so much for doing this on your day off, you’re really saving our asses.” Lee said as he held open the door to Swayze’s, letting Dean in.

Dean had gotten the call at 9 or so and it had roused him from a particularly detailed dream which he really wished he had seen through. Lee sounded panicked and upset as he explained the situation: someone a night or two ago had stepped through a faulty board in their stage and caused some damage. The person was fine but the stage was not and seeing as the bar had a very important show playing that Saturday, the fix it was a bit time sensitive.

“Don’t even worry about it, I’m just glad you called.” Dean shrugged as he set down his toolbox. Most of the supplies and the tools remained outside were it would be safe to use them. “You were saying someone fell through?”

“Their foot went through a couple planks, that’s all. Pretty sure the planks were old or water damaged.” Benny explained from behind the bar, busy as he always was.

Nodding his head, Dean made his way over to the stage to investigate. As they had said, there was a sizeable hole in the stage and the wood was cracked and sagging. Running his fingers along the remaining slats and applying some serious pressure, Dean tested to see if any of the other boards had been damaged or would need to be replaced. Luckily it seemed like only the affected boards were in need of replacement.

“Well good new, I should be able to fix this. Bad news, I gotta rip up some of your stage.”

“Rip away and get it fixed.” Lee said, shuffling over to the bar to grab a seat. “I can give you a hand with things if you need it. Also lunch is on us, obviously.”

“Good cuz I’ve been thinking about that mozza burger you guys have since you called me this morning.”

“Benny’ll get right on that then.”

Benny mumbled something under his breath but took his leave, heading into the kitchen to start on making lunch for all of them. Dean set to work, determined to be as quick as he possibly could. First he pried up the affected boards and carted them off to the side, standing back to get a look at the supports under the stage. While there, they weren’t perfect and Dean knew he’d have to reinforce them.

“Who do you have playing Saturday?” Dean asked as he returned to his tools, reaching for a notebook and pen to scribble some thoughts down. “Cuz Cas and I are thinking of coming but it’s right after new years so we’ve got to plan the hangover accordingly if it’s a good show.”

“The Birthday Massacre. It’s gonna be a huge show, we’re basically already sold out but we’d obviously let you two in.”

“Well guess I can’t get that hungover for new years then. Definitely don’t want to miss that show.”

“Speaking of you and Cas,” Benny said as he remerged from the kitchen. “What’s the story behind that?”

“What do you mean?”

Lee chuckled, amused. “You and Cas come in here every other Saturday and get tipsy and watch the bands and we’ve got eyes. There’s something going on between you two, has to be. Now I say you’re sleeping together but Benny doesn’t agree.”

“We’re not sleeping together.” Dean confirmed, reaching for a tape measure so he could get the measurements for the replacement boards. His face was red but he’d prepared himself for this line of questioning. Even more than that, he’d brought his own questions. “Not yet anyway.”

“Thought as much, Cas looked way too pent up.” Benny said, excusing himself and disappearing once again.

“You said not yet, that mean you plan on it?”

“I plan on a lot of things, Lee; dishes, groceries, oil changes but I’m not so sure about the Cas thing. Kind of wanted to pick your brains about it, Benny’s too. Since you’re both a lot better at this shit than I am. Now I’m gonna go cut the replacement boards so I’ll be back in in a bit.”

Lee nodded and when Dean had left the bar, he turned and made his way into the kitchen. He found Benny in the back and wrapped his arms around him from behind, pressing a quick kiss to his shoulder. “Dean wants our advice about sleeping with Cas.”

“Poor guy, think we should tell him to run?”

“Hey you weren’t complaining the last time we invited him around. Pretty sure Dean’s entitled to the same experience.”

“Except there’s a massive difference between us and Dean.” Benny sighed, setting down his knife before turning in Lee’s arm. “We’ve got experience with men and we’ve got experience with kink. Dean, he’s got none of that. Pretty sure the man hasn’t slept with anyone in the last 16 years. Cas’ll eat him alive.”

“So you don’t think Cas can tone it down enough to keep Dean around?”

“I just think Dean would be better off trying it out with other guys before giving Cas a shot but I can see that that’s not the popular opinion and I have eyes so I know that’s not what’s going to happen.”

“No, it’s not. So just be supportive and helpful, yeah?”

“Fine, just for you.”

Lee grinned, leaning in for a quick kiss before he pulled away. “And that’s why I love you.”

Benny made a face, expression somewhere between exasperation and fondness before he wordlessly turned back to prepping lunch. Lee returned to his spot at the bar just as Dean was bringing in the replacement boards. Dean set them down in front of the stage before rummaging through his toolbox for a few more things.

“It’s gonna be loud in here for a little bit, just a heads up.” He said, holding up a power drill. “I’m gonna add some extra supports to the rotted spot before I put the replacement boards in. Should help keep it sturdier for longer. Just make sure there’s no more leaks on the wood and you should be good.”

Lee flashed Dean a thumbs up and sat there, supervising. He didn’t have a clue what Dean was doing but it looked professional enough so he wasn’t going to question it. Benny came out about halfway through the replacement process with lunch, setting it on the bar before taking a seat next to Lee.

“You know Cas has been hung up on him since before Halloween.” Benny said as he leaned in close to talk to Lee, voices hidden from Dean by the sound of the drill. “Woefully lamented the entire thing to me.”

“Do you blame him? The man’s hot and he’s good with his hands. I’d be jumping on him if we weren’t together.”

Benny leaned in closer, voice quiet to ensure that Dean didn’t hear him in the event he stopped drilling. “If he had more experience I’d jump on him for the both of us. Could make things more interesting.”

Lee sucked in a breath through his teeth, surprised to a degree by Benny’s openness. On occasion the pair would invite a third for some fun, sometimes Cas or sometimes other people, but Benny was far more exacting with his standards than Lee was. It surprised Lee that Benny was into Dean but then again, he and Dean did share several similarities so it really wasn’t that surprising.

By then Dean had finished securing the supports and the replacement slats, reaching for some wood glue to act a sealant in the cracks. It was messy stuff and the smell wasn’t pleasant but it would add that extra layer of support he was sure Lee and Benny wanted. Once applied, Dean wiped his hands on his work pants and then made for the bar. “Gonna give the glue some time to dry and once that’s done I can seal the wood on top and then it should be good to go. Just make sure no one steps on the stage for about 24 hours to make sure the sealant dries correctly.”

“Will do. Here’s lunch.” Benny said as he slid the burger and fries towards Dean. “We’re trying out a new sauce so give us your opinion.”

Dean nodded his head before turning his attention to the burger and fries in front of him. The fries came coated in a garlic ranch seasoning and were perfectly crispy so he knew he’d finish those right off the bat. It was the mozza burger he was excited for, all bacon and cheese and caramelized onions and that perfect slightly medium cook on the patty. If there was one thing Benny knew how to do aside from making drinks, it was how to cook a burger. The sauce on it was different than last time, a slightly smoky tangy barbecue sauce that complimented the flavours of the burger. It was leagues above the previous sauce.

“New sauce is way better.” Dean said when he’d eaten about half the burger, deciding to switch to the fries.

“It’s housemade so thanks, means a lot.”

Swayze’s remained silent as Dean ate his lunch. It gave him time to prepare his questions and how he wanted to word them but he was still nervous, anxiety making his hands tingle and his chest feel tight. Benny and Lee wouldn’t judge him, they weren’t like that, but it didn’t stop the fear from presenting itself.

“So, tell us what’s going on with you and Cas.” Lee said, folding his hands together. “Because we’ve both noticed it and obviously you have too.”

Dean sighed, wiping his hands with a napkin. “The short of it is we’ve got a thing for each other and we both know it but we’ve hit a stalemate.”

“Cas doesn’t hit stalemates, that’s weird.” Benny said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“He does with me because I don’t know what I’m doing and he doesn’t want to make the first move because I’ve got no experience and he thinks it’s gonna scare me off. It’s not like I intentionally have no experience, I just didn’t clue into this shit until after Halloween and have kind of been spiraling since.”

“So no experience with men then. None at all?”

Dean shook his head. “I try to flirt but I don’t fucking know how to do it and the words get stuck in my throat every time I look at him. I mean some stuff has happened but I just- I can’t get over that arbitrary line I’ve set and Cas won’t do it for I don’t even know why.”

“What stuff?” Lee asked, picking at his own fries.

“Looks, mostly. Cuddling I guess. I held his hand for a while.” Dean admitted, blushing furiously. “Fuck I sound like a middle schooler.”

“Hey, we all start somewhere. Benny and I didn’t start out on the same page right off the bat either.”

“No we did not. It took me close to 6 months to get anywhere.” Benny chuckled. “I was bartending at the dive this place used to be when Lee and the rest of them came in for a gig. Gave him free drinks after his first show because I thought he was cute but he didn’t give me the time of day. Took way too many drinks to get his attention but once I had it we were all set.”

“Well my problem isn’t attention. I’ve got his attention, I’ve got it enough that he hasn’t hooked up with anyone in like 2 months and is having sex dreams I’m assuming are about me. The problem is I don’t know what to do with it. Like fuck I can barely flirt with women and he’s an entirely different beast.”

“You’re going to have to flirt with Cas if you want to get anywhere, that’s just a given at this point. We all know he doesn’t do the romance so he probably only responds to flirting. But you don’t have to use your words if you don’t feel like you can.”

“Then how the fuck am I supposed to flirt with him, Benny?”

“With your body, like you already have been. I see the two of you when you’re here drinking and you’re a flirt, Dean.” That had Dean raising his eyebrows, mortified and curious all at once. There was nothing that he remembered that he counted as flirting, certainly not at the bar out in public. Benny, sensing Dean’s apprehension, elaborated. “You get in close, like practically on his lap, but you’re really touchy. Lots of little pats on his hands and shoulders and legs and all of that all at once is pretty easy to read. There’s this way you look at him too, this like intense stare that there’s no way he’s confused about. So just keep doing that, shooting him looks and being touchy.”

“Or just kiss him. Wouldn’t be that hard to get him alone and do it. Hell he’d probably thank you.”

“I haven’t exactly kissed a man before.”

Benny and Lee shared a look of exasperation before turning to Dean. Lee was the one that spoke and he did his best to not sound too amused by everything. “Well Dean, I hate to tell you but the stork didn’t bring you Ben. Kissing a man’s the same as kissing a woman, literally nothing is different. Doesn’t get more complicated until everything after that but that’s more of a later issue for you.”

“God this is hopeless.” Dean sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’m gonna have to get drunk if I’m gonna even attempt to kiss him.”

“Good thing new years is coming up, perfect opportunity. Can even pull the ‘I need someone to kiss at midnight’ if you need an excuse.” Lee suggested. “It should work on him, just might be hard to get him to stop at a kiss.”

“I would not complain if it was more than a kiss.”

Benny, who had been relatively quiet during the entire conversation, leaned forward. He seemed pensive, almost concerned. “What exactly do you want from Cas? Is this purely physical or do you want more?”

“I-“ Dean hesitated, chewing his lip. Deep down he knew what he wanted but he wasn’t confident that Cas wanted the same thing. “I want more, I think. I just- I feel like we have this bond and already we’re doing so many of the things that people who date do. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting that.”

“You know he doesn’t do romantic relationships. We all do.” Benny sighed. “Do you really want to get involved with him? I’m not trying to be a dick here.”

“He told me he’d wait for me, that’s the thing. He said it and he meant it and I can’t explain it but there’s this feeling I’ve got about the whole thing. I feel like it’s going to work out, just maybe not as quick as I want it to.”

Benny and Lee shared another look, Dean trying to read their expressions. It was obvious Benny was more than a little skeptical, practically convinced Dean and Cas wouldn’t work out in the way Dean hoped. The concern was the concern of a friend so Dean couldn’t feel too upset about it. Lee seemed much more on board with it, more open to the idea that Cas and Dean could evolve and change and work something out. In the end the pair turned back to Dean.

“Best you finish up the stage before we finish talking. We’ll give you a crash course in men so you don’t feel too out of it for new years. Better we tell you then the internet.” Lee said.

Dean nodded, making his way to the stage to finish up his repairs. As he worked his mind kept drifting, thoughts blurring before they focused into a single point.

What had he gotten himself into?

~

“New Years, that’s when I’m going to do it.”

Rowena looked up from her crafting table, scissors stopping mid snip. Cas had come over in the middle of the time she had set aside to sew her new years eve outfit and she had offered him tea and biscuits, allowing him to prattle on while she resumed her crafting. The stream of words from his mouth had been tame until now and she didn’t want to mess up her outfit.

“And what is ‘it’ exactly?”

“I’m going to kiss Dean.”

Rowena’s brow furrowed. “You haven’t kissed him yet?”

“Didn’t know if he felt the same.” Cas said, shaking his head. “But I know he does now so I’m gonna go for it. New Years is the easiest and it gives me alcohol as an excuse if he doesn’t like it or I fuck something up.”

“What comes after the kiss?” She asked as she stood, making her way over to Cas and sitting next to him. “How far are you willing to take things? How far is he willing to take things? Because it’s never just a kiss with you Castiel, we all know that. Dean doesn’t.”

“You act like I’m going to kiss him in a corner and then strip him of all his boyish innocence and I don’t love that. I mean I’d love nothing more than to do many many things to that man but I have self-control and I have a brain. I know he’s not ready for that and I’m not going to push it but I can’t sit here anymore and just stew. I need him to know exactly how I feel.”

“So you kiss him and he knows you want him, what then? Are you willing to entertain a romantic relationship with him because that’s what he wants. He doesn’t want your usual brand of hookup and go.”

“I kiss him, hopefully somewhere where we’re alone, and then we talk. I want a relationship too, Ro, and not just sex. He knows that, I know he knows that because we’ve talked about it in a roundabout way. It’ll be completely fine once it happens. It just needs to happen.”

“What needs to happen?”

The sudden appearance of a third voice startled Cas and he nearly dropped his tea cup. Charlie was in the doorway, her appearance sudden and unexpected. She looked like she had just woken up from a nap, eyes squinting at the light and expression groggy. Cas glanced between her and Rowena before sighing deeply. “I need to kiss Dean.”

“Yeah you really do, I’m tired of his whining.” She chuckled, sitting down in the available arm chair. “He told me what you said, about the waiting I mean. Did you really mean it?”

“I did.”

“Good, because that’s a romantic promise and he’s absolutely hanging onto it. He’s fallen for you, really hard, and the last thing I want to see is him get hurt. Dean hasn’t opened up to anyone in a really long time so it’s pretty big that he’s opened up to you. Don’t break his heart.”

“I’m not planning on it, if I can help it. You’d kill me, his kid would kill me, and my kids would kill me. I do enjoy having my head attached to my body.”

Satisfied with Cas’ answer, Charlie relaxed a little bit. “So when are you finally gonna kiss him? Because he’s got a plan, I think, but he’s shit at follow through.”

“New years.”

“Okay good, that aligns. Wear something a little slutty, that’ll help you a hell of a lot.”

Cas raised an eyebrow but didn’t question it. Charlie knew Dean better than he did and if she said wear something a little slutty, he was going to do it. New Years it seemed, that was the day.

~

“Are you sure this is gonna get his attention?” Dean asked nervously, hands rubbing repetitively as he tried to smooth the black fabric of his shirt. “Because I really need this plan to work. I can’t keep living like this.”

Charlie got up from her position on Dean’s bed, stopping in front of him. She reached out and rolled his sleeves up to just below his elbow before handing him one of his bracelets. “It’ll work.”

Dean nodded his head, slipping the leather bracelet onto his wrist before reaching for a few of his rings. It was new years and it seemed like the time to break them out. Simple hammered bands engraved with flowers, they brought him comfort amidst the swirling storm of his thoughts.

“You’re thinking too hard about this shit again. All you need to do is show up and drink, drunk confident you will take care of the rest.”

“I know, I know. It’s just- I really want this to work because I really like him and I know he likes me too. Will you wingman for me again? It’ll be just like college.”

“Yeah I’ll wingman but I’m leaving with Ro at the end of the night so just be aware of that. Now grab your shit and let’s go or we’re gonna be late.”

“I’ll meet you downstairs, just gonna check in with the kid first.” Dean said before ducking out of the bedroom. He knocked on Ben’s door, waiting until Ben looked up from his laptop before he spoke. “Charlie and I are heading out. I’m still cool with you having everyone over and I know you’ll be smart with the drinking. There’s money on the counter for you guys to get takeout later. Should be home sometime after midnight.”

“Good luck tonight.”

Dean nodded, a quick motion, before he turned and headed downstairs. With his jacket on and Charlie in tow, the pair left for Swayze’s. The line snaked down the street by the time they arrived but the bouncer knew them and let them in immediately. Inside the club was packed, bodies dancing and mingling on the dance floor while large groups of people ate and drank at the tables littered around the bar. Tucked away in the corner was there little group, Rowena sitting and chatting with Sam and Jess.

“I didn’t think you guys were coming tonight.” Dean said as he took the chair next to Jess.

“Convinced your brother we could come for a few drinks but we can’t stay all night. I’ve got a shift tomorrow and he’s got some client work he needs to catch up on. I like your shirt, good colour on you.”

Dean smiled at her, reaffirmed in his choice. It was then he glanced at Rowena, offering her another smile. “You look great, love the purple. Know when Cas is getting here?”

“A few minutes, probably enough time to grab drinks.”

“I’m getting drinks then so give me your orders.”

Drink orders in hand, Dean made his way to the bar. There were more bartenders than usual and Dean recognized most of them. It was Lee who came over in the end, offering Dean the kind of frazzled smile that came with being incredibly busy. “What can I get you guys?”

Dean listed off the drinks, ensuring that his had an extra shot of alcohol, before settling against the bar and waiting. Clearly Benny and Lee were too busy to hang out and Dean knew that Benny had to be tucked away in the back, slaving away over a hot stove to provide drunk people withal the food their hearts desired.

“We’ll join you guys a little later when there aren’t so many sober people needing drinks.” Lee said as he handed Dean a tray. “Put more than I should’ve in yours, know you need the liquid courage.”

“You’re a lifesaver, thank you.”

Lee flashed a quick thumbs up before he was turning to help someone else. Dean returned to the table with all of the drinks, planning on distributing them with no fuss. That plan died when he saw Cas.

Cas was in an outfit that Dean had never seen before, incredibly tight pants and a sheer blouse with boning that showed entirely too much skin and not enough at the same time. Dean could see lettering on Cas’ ribs, another tattoo he hadn’t known his friend had, and it stirred the fire in his belly. Handing out the drinks as quickly as possible, Dean ended with Cas.

“I show up and you’ve already got a drink for me. Think I could get used to that.” He said, turning to look at Dean.

Dean met Cas’ eyes and then he was blinking in a dreamlike stupor, the sudden roaring of his heart in his ears louder than the music. Cas had makeup on, smudged black eyeliner and some kind of gunmetal silvery eyeshadow. All the makeup did was accentuate the blue of his eyes.

“Did Claire?” Dean managed to choke out as he sat down next to Cas, taking large sips of his drink to try and cool himself down. It didn't work.

“She wanted to practice and I didn’t mind. Does it look okay?”

“Looks great.”

Satisfied with that answer, Cas turned to his drink and the rest of the group. “So, anyone else get hungry when they drink?”

“We’ve got food coming and you’ll get your usual, don’t worry.” Rowena hummed, eyes darting between Dean and Cas. “But three of you need to catch up with the rest of us. Do you think it’d be terrible of me to manipulate those poor college boys staring at me into getting free drinks?”

Charlie resisted the urge to wrap her arm around Rowena, an almost possessive urge she’d never dealt with before. “As long as you’re coming home with me at the end of the night I say go for it. Alcohol’s expensive and college boys are stupid.”

“I’ll be back with alcohol then.” Rowena chuckled, excusing herself.

“She must be doing all kinds of things to you to have you agreeing. Bit of a whirlwind isn’t she?”

Charlie nodded her head, sipping at her drink. “You and I both know she is. Pretty sure she’s got some stories about you that we could share at the table.”

“What exactly has she told you?” Cas asked, clasping his hands together. There was a curiosity to his tone, as if he wanted Charlie to share.

“I know about Camp Chitaqua.”

That admission earned Charlie the raise of an eyebrow and the end of the conversation, Cas finishing his drink. He was almost flushed at the mention of it, embarrassed. If Charlie and the other noticed, they didn’t say anything. Drink finished, Cas turned back to Dean, He saw the usual necklace but everything else was new and he dragged his eyes down Dean’s bare forearms to his hands, eyes settling on the rings. “Those are new.”

Dean looked over before moving his hands closer to show Cas the rings. “New to you maybe but not new. Don’t wear ‘em much, work makes it a little hard to wear jewelry of any kind.”

“They’re pretty,” Cas hummed, reaching out to touch them. “You should wear them more.”

Heat prickled Dean’s cheeks, the touch sending sparks shooting through his arms. “I think I will.”

Rowena returned around the same time as the arrival of their food and once the empty glasses were cleared, everything was set down. Fries, wings, burgers; everything was fresh and greasy and most importantly, it was on the house. So was the alcohol, a full rum and coke for everyone at the table.

Rowena slid back into the booth, thigh to thigh with Charlie. She seemed pleased but Charlie was curious. “Do I want to know what you said to them to get full drinks?”

“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“I’ll allow that for now but only because I really want these fries.”

Everyone at the table helped themselves to the spread in front of them, normal conversation resuming. It started with work but rapidly devolved into talking about kids and pop culture and then to embarrassing stories and origin tales. Dean added in when he had something to say but largely listened, focusing more on finishing his drinks and getting new ones. He’d just come back from getting drink four, limbs now tingling and head beginning to lighten, when he noticed Cas stealing his fries.

“Hey, get your own. That’s not very nice.” He said, playfully smacking the top of Cas’ hand. “I worked very hard in order to get someone else to get those for me.”

Cas raised an eyebrow. Emboldened by the drinks he’d consumed, he decided to make a move. It was a simple move really, one designed to shift the tide towards his end goals. Dean had already seen his outfit and Cas knew he was flustered by it. All it would take now was some conversation, some more alcohol, and a few well timed and placed touches.

“If that’s how hard you hit, I really think you need some lessons. That wouldn’t satisfy anyone.”

Dean stared at Cas for a minute, trying to understand what he meant. When Dean finally clued in, so did the blush on his cheeks. Two could play at that game if Cas really wanted banter. “Who says I want to be the one doing the hitting?”

“You don’t strike me as a receiver.”

Dean laughed at the pun, unable to help himself. It was the alcohol, he told himself, that’s what made it so funny. “For someone who complains that I peg him wrong all the time, you sure make a lot of assumptions about me. Maybe I give and I receive, ever think of that?”

As Cas and Dean talked, leaning in to hear each other better, Sam watched in mild horror. He’d seen enough at Thanksgiving to know what was going on but seeing this was something else entirely. The only thing that bothered him about it, now that he'd had time to adjust and had been thoroughly raked over the coals by Jess, was that it was his older brother who was flirting. “Are they always like this?” He asked Rowena and Charlie as he leaned in.

Charlie nodded her head. “This is nothing, this is normal for them. We’ve been dealing with this since late September.”

“So we’re hoping they like do it then?”

“Big time hoping.” Charlie agreed. “Tonight should be the night if everything goes according to plan. We’re just here to wingman and make sure they don’t fuck things up, that’s all. Semi-passive observers if you will.”

“Well I’m just happy Cas isn’t Lisa.”

Charlie raised her glass, clinking it with Sam’s. “Amen to that.”

“I think we should leave them to it, see how long it takes them to notice us being gone.” Rowena said. “Up for a dance or two, love?”

Nodding her head, Charlie waved a quick goodbye at Sam and Jess before she was taking Rowena’s hand and being whisked off into the crowd of people on the packed dance floor. Sam and Jess, who weren’t particularly fond of dancing, decided it was better than being privy to whatever Dean and Cas were talking about so they too got up to dance.

Neither Dean or Cas noticed their friends suddenly gone, too engrossed in the conversation they were having. They leaned in closer, Dean’s hands on Cas’ shoulders to keep him steady and Cas’ hands on Dean’s knees to keep him in place, just able to hear each other over the thudding music.

“I gotta ask,” Dean said as he let go of Cas’ shoulder to grab his drink. “What’s with the tattoo on your ribs? I don’t remember seeing it before.”

“I’ve had it since I was 17. Maybe you’re just not observant.”

Dean shrugged, finishing off his fourth drink of the night. He could feel the buzz now, the room spinning when he closed his eyes. It was the perfect spot to be to have fun but he needed more if he was going to make a move at midnight. “Maybe I just didn’t want to stare beside your left nipple. Might think I was a weirdo or something.”

“Everyone knows it’s only weird if you stare at the right nipple.”

Dean laughed again, shaking his head. Cas had a way with words and his deadpan delivery only added to it. It was sweet and charming and Dean loved it. “But seriously, what does it mean?” He asked, reaching out to brush his fingers across the tattoo over Cas’ shirt.

“It’s Enochian, language of the angels. A prayer for protection.” He explained, trying not to shiver as Dean brushed his fingers across his ribs. “Got it just before the accident when I really needed the guidance.”

“It suits you. Really ties in the angelic stuff with your name too. Castiel. It’s just such a cool name.”

Unaccustomed to hearing his full name, Cas was fully clocked in now. There was something about the way that it fell from Dean’s lips that stirred something deep in his stomach, the warmth he’d been fighting for so long nearly ready to set him on fire. He wanted to hear it again.

“I happen to like Dean as a name. Simple but effective.”

“That’s me,” Dean grinned, “simple but effective.”

Cas reached for his drink, taking a long sip as he kept his gaze trained on Dean. “I think I want another drink. You want one?”

“Something strong, maybe something with Sambuca.”

Cas nodded his head and excused himself from the table, making his way to the bar. It had calmed down slightly so Lee was right there immediately. He grinned at Cas, already reaching for two glasses. “What are you drinking?”

“Give Dean a liquid cocaine but heavy on the Sambuca. I’ll do a gin and tonic.”

Lee reached for the required alcohol, carrying on the conversation. “Make any inroads yet?”

“Getting there. Think I can convince him to dance.”

“That’ll be interesting.” Lee said, handing the drinks to Cas. “Good luck.”

Drinks in hand, Cas returned to the table. He handed Dean his drink before taking a seat and downing his own drink. It burned the back of his throat but the burn was welcome. Liquid courage was supposed to hurt. Letting Dean drink, Cas decided to see if he could get Dean to suggest dancing.

Dean, sipping on his drink, watched Cas with curiosity. The other man kept glancing out at the crowd of people, shoulders hunched forward. His body language said he wanted to dance and it made Dean think. The idea that popped into his alcohol fueled brain was one he’d never have considered sober.

“Do you want to dance?”

Cas turned his head, grin as sly as ever. “Feeling bold tonight, I like it. I would love to dance.”

Dean downed the rest of his drink before he got to his feet, tv static floating in his field of vision for a couple seconds. His limbs felt heavy and tingly and the room was spinning but he felt good, confident even. He reached for Cas’ hand without a second thought and pulled him to the dance floor.

Cas followed behind Dean, heart pattering in his chest. This was it, this was his moment to make a move. If Dean reciprocated then all was well and if he didn’t, well then they were both drunk and it was a mistake. The pair ended up near the edge of the dance floor, blocked in on three of the four sides. Cas, used to the crowds and everything that came with them was comfortable and quick to find the beat of the music. He began to move, swaying and undulating in the way that had captivated Dean since Halloween.

Dean took a deep breath to try and steady his nerves before he began to dance. The movements were foreign to him and he appeared stiff and wooden, hips nowhere near as smooth as Cas and arms stuck by his sides. He was too drunk to be embarrassed about it until he saw Cas watching him and holding back a laugh. That brought redness to his cheeks and a flash of frustration to the rest of him.

Cas, pitying Dean, took mercy on him. He closed the gap between them, stilling his body as he put his hands on Dean’s shoulder and leaned in to talk to him. Practically yelling to be heard over the music blasting, Cas hoped he’d get his message across. “Have you ever danced before?”

“Once, like 14 years ago.”

“Can I teach you?”

“Yeah.” Dean replied quickly, afraid a nervous stammer would appear.

Cas hopped on the opportunity presented and slid his hands from Dean’s shoulders, dragging them down his chest and then to his hips. He grabbed Dean’s hips, grip firm but not invasive, and began to move Dean’s hips in time with the beat of the music. There was space in between the pair and Cas wished there wasn’t.

“You sway with the music.” He instructed, leaning forward so Dean could hear him. “Side to side unless you’re dancing on someone.”

Dean’s eyes were glued to the space in between them, watching Cas’ hands on his hips. He swayed in time with the music for a minute or two before deciding he could use his knees, beginning a sort of up and down motion with the sway. When Cas glanced up at him, surprised, Dean felt a thrill rush through him. He’d done something right. Emboldened by Cas’ reaction and spurred on by the full force of too much alcohol, Dean tried something else.

He reached out and wound his arms around Cas’ neck, trying to play it off with a grin he hoped wasn’t too cocky. “Didn’t know what to do with my arms.” He explained, being truthful. Dean had no idea if this was what he was supposed to do.

Cas felt the arms around his neck and cursed when it made his knees weak. He was supposed to be the one in control, the one who had so much experience he was invulnerable to simple little movements but Dean took that all away. Dean made him fold and he loved it. Taking a calculated risk, Cas stepped forward and closed the space between them. He began to sway his hips again, just enough to connect with the denim of Dean’s jeans.

Neither could look at the other, Cas staring squarely at Dean’s throat and Dean squarely at the top of Cas’ head. Dean couldn’t focus, too wrapped up in the heady buzz and the feeling of being so close to Cas in the way he’d dreamt about for months. He could feel Cas’ hips pressing against his but it wasn’t enough, barely a tease. So Dean fixed it, sliding one of his hands down Cas’ back until it hit the small of it and then pulling him forward.

Cas felt the firm press of Dean’s hips against his and gave in, months of repression flowing out of him. He pressed against Dean as they danced, seeking more and more friction. His hands ghosted up Dean’s sides and down his back and then to his chest, shamelessly feeling the other man up. It thrilled Cas, more than he cared to admit. The song changed and then Cas dared to look at Dean’s face.

Dean was staring directly at Cas, his eyes wide open and pupils so big his eyes looked like a shark’s. It wasn’t predatory but it was determined and Cas swallowed thickly. Dean wanted him, that much was obvious, and the want suddenly terrified Cas. He knew he was attractive and he’d seen the look of want a million and one times but those had been friends with benefits and no strings attached.  Dean came with a million strings and history and so many unknowns. It threw him off balance and his lungs tightened. He needed to compose himself and he couldn't do that here, not with Dean trying to crawl inside his skin. Cas leaned in, intending to talk to Dean, and realized his mistake. Dean mistook it as something else, leaning in for a kiss.

“I- I need a drink, I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” Cas said quickly, dodging Dean’s lean in and pulling away.

Watching Cas scurry away and vanish into the crowd, Dean’s heart dropped into his stomach. He felt ill, the buzz from the alcohol and the anxiety creating a deadly cocktail in his stomach. Suddenly the crowd was too tight and the music was too loud and he was entirely too overwhelmed. Turning tail, Dean left the bar.

The cold air hit his hot face when he stepped outside and Dean cursed himself, wishing he’d brought a jacket with him. Outside the bar was empty, desolate, and Dean leaned against the brick with his eyes closed. The world was spinning and his stomach lurching with every rotation, feeling made worse by the alcohol. He couldn’t think clearly about Cas when he was sober and he knew he wasn’t thinking clearly now but what had just happened, well it was obvious. Cas had spurned him, rejected him.

“You’re an idiot for thinking he’d want you in public.” Dean told himself, shoving his hands in his pockets. For a brief moment he entertained the thought of going back in the bar and talking to Cas but that was quickly passed over. It was too loud and there were too many people and he didn’t want to look at Cas and be rejected for a second time. Taking out his phone, he texted Charlie that he was going home. And then he left.

Cas, who had gone to the bar for a shot to work up the courage to kiss Dean, felt panic stab him in the chest when he couldn’t find Dean in the crowd. He wasn’t at the table when Cas went back for his jacket and it was with a horrible sinking feeling that Cas knew he’d fucked everything up. Dean had left, drunk and rejected and Cas wanted to fix it. He left the bar, hoping he’d be able close the distance and meet Dean on the way home. For the first ten minutes Cas hurried along but then the familiar pain in his legs began to bloom and he cursed himself, slowing his pace. He hadn’t rejected Dean, far from it, but he knew how Dean thought and this wasn’t going to end well. When Cas made it back, he ignored his own home and went straight to Dean’s instead. He didn’t even have to knock because Ben was opening the door, arms crossed over his chest.

“Did your Dad make it home? I really need to talk to him.”

“I don’t think he wants to talk to you right now.”

Cas sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “This entire thing was a misunderstanding that could be fixed if you let me in. Look I’m not trying to be pushy or tell you what to do but your dad overreacted and I didn’t explain myself well enough and it’s fucked everything up.”

“If he yells at me, you owe me big time.” Ben said as he stepped aside to let Cas in. “He’s upstairs.”

Cas slipped in before Ben could change his mind and made his way upstairs. Light filtered into Dean’s bedroom from the hallway but Cas knew Dean wasn’t there, ears alerting him to the all too familiar sounds of someone throwing up. Peeking into the bathroom, Cas shook his head in pity. Dean was knelt on the floor, in between bouts of throwing up. He’d managed to change already, now in a t-shirt and boxers.

“Can we talk?” Cas asked, knocking on the door frame to let Dean know he was there.

Dean wiped his mouth before turning, staring at Cas. Sweat and squinted eyes aside, Dean was upset. His brow was furrowed and his posture defeated. Even his tone was defeated, a mix of anger and frustration. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Can I just talk then?” Cas asked, leaning against the open door. “You left without telling me. That’s not cool.”

“You left me to get a drink, right when we were in the middle of something. I know you and I saw that look on your face when we were dancing. It told me everything I needed to know.”

“I didn’t have a look, Dean. And I told you that I’d be right back and I meant it. So imagine my surprise when I get back there and you’re just gone, left without so much as a warning. Pretty sure that sends a clear message.”

Dean turned again, throwing up for a few minutes before he was able to carry on a conversation. His words were slurred but the meaning was clear. “You looked at me right before you left and you made it clear. You were regretting everything, regretting showing up and dancing with me and everything else. And I heard it loud and clear. So please just leave, stop rubbing salt in the fucking wound.”

“I don’t regret it, I don’t know where you’re getting that from!” Cas huffed, irritated. “I needed a drink because I was nervous, that’s it. Not because I was regretting dancing or being near you or anything like that!”

“We’d never work, even if you didn’t regret it. I like you, Cas, a whole fucking lot and it’s terrifying and it was never gonna work. Please just leave.”

The admission, hanging heavy in the air, only served to piss Cas off. “So you’re not even willing to try? Because that’s what you’re telling me right now. Look I fucking get it, this shit fucking terrifies me too, but that doesn’t mean I’m just gonna run away and I’m sure as hell not letting you run away. You’ve told me yourself Dean, this is what you do. You reject people first so they leave and then they can’t hurt and reject you in turn. “

“Just get out. Leave, please. I can’t fucking do this right now.”

“This conversation isn’t over, just so you know.”

Cas turned on his heels and left, fighting the urge to throw up as he went home. Dean liked him but the admission was sour, tainted, and there was no telling if they’d get past it.

Chapter Text

“There is something deeply wrong with Dad.”

Jack and Claire sat at the kitchen table, pushing their pancakes around their plate as they stared at Cas. A week had passed since New Year’s Eve and something was off. He was doing his best, still smiling and going to work and active, but there was a peculiar sadness to it. Hunched shoulders, defeated posture, and the lackluster shine in his eyes told volumes.

“I know but I don’t know what it is.” Jack replied, frowning.

“It has to be about Dean. They haven’t hung out at all and I don’t think they’ve been talking in the morning. I think something happened on New Year’s.”

Cas, who was sitting and sipping his coffee, eyed his kids suspiciously. They’d practically ignored their breakfast, choosing instead to speak in hushed whispers and sneak furtive glances at him. It was suspicious. “Hey, what are you two going on about? Your breakfast’s getting cold.”

“You seem sad, Dad, and you’re not hanging out with Dean. What happened?” Claire asked.

Cas deflated like a balloon, shoulders sagging and expression turning grim. It was as if the recognition of his sadness allowed him to truly feel it. He’d been trying to hide it but evidently it hadn’t worked like he’d hoped.

“Things just got fucked up. Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re our Dad and you’re upset, of course we’re gonna worry about it.” Jack said. “Did he not like you back?”

Cas shook his head. “No, he does, that’s not the issue. Look, you’re my kids and I really don’t think you need to get wrapped up in this. I’m an adult, I’ll figure it out.”

“He likes you and you like him and you look miserable, pretty sure this isn’t something you can figure out on your own. You and him are me and Kaia so I think I’m uniquely qualified to meddle here. So what got fucked up?”

Cas debated for a moment, weighing the pros and cons of telling Jack and Claire what happened. In the end he decided to tell them; they were his kids and they deserved to know the truth about why he was so mopey, even if it was embarrassing. He took a deep breath and then he told them everything, explicitly stating that he was tipsy and that Dean was incredibly drunk. The kids listened as he talked and Cas was unnerved by how neutral their faces were. Claire slipped up once, right when Cas was explaining that he had gone to get a drink for courage, her expression clear as day stating he’d done something wrong.

“Dad, this is so fixable. It was literally just a miscommunication.” Claire said in the end. “You do like him and you do want to date him, right?”

Cas nodded his head.

“Okay good. Now we fix this whole misunderstanding and by we, I mean you go talk to him and you be honest about how you feel. All you have to say is that you were nervous and kind of drunk. Tell him you like him and want a relationship and then kiss and you’ll be fine.”

“It’s never that simple. Besides, he told me he doesn’t want to talk to me so I’m giving him space.”

“He was drunk when he said that.” Jack added. “Just for the record.”

“Exactly! Drunk people say shit they don’t mean all the time and he did too. Look Dad, we all know how you feel about each other and we just want you to be happy. So find the confidence you normally have and go talk to him. You know his schedule so you know he’s leaving for work now. You can catch him now and start to solve shit.”

“I don’t know.”

Claire sighed and thought for a moment, deciding on a gentler approach. “My therapist tells me that every day we should try to do something that scares us or makes us confront something about ourselves that we don’t want to think about. I’m gonna guess you’re scared about the outcome but that’s okay. Either it gets solved or it doesn’t but you’re never gonna find out unless you try.”

Cas chewed on the advice once the surprise at how sage it was wore off and then he decided to take it. She wasn’t wrong and he wished she was. He pulled himself out of the chair and then to the front door, taking a deep breath before opening it. Scanning around, Cas saw Dean on his driveway.

“Dean, hey hold on a sec!” He called, moving as quick as he could with his sore leg and cane.

Dean, hand on the door of the impala, glanced up at Cas. He thought about getting in the car and just driving away but he didn’t. The week had sobered him up and while it had done little to clear his head, it had done enough to make him stay. He waited for Cas, eyes scanning the other man. His heart clenched when he noticed how miserable Cas looked.

“Hey, I know you’ve got to get to work so I’ll make it quick.” Cas said, nervously twisting his hands together. “We need to talk about new years.”

Dean sighed, glancing down at his watch. “I know. I can’t right now and I’m swamped at work.”

“After work?”

“Can’t, promised Sam I’d do his house renos.”

“When are you free then? Because this needs to happen.”

Dean thought for a moment before answering. “The 24^th. Come over for supper. Think you can swing 6?”

“Sure, I can do 6.”

“Thanks,” Dean said as he reached out to give Cas’ hand a little squeeze. “I’ll see you then.”

With that Dean was letting go and getting into his car, tearing down the driveway and onto the street as he headed to work. Cas stood there, rubbing at the hand Dean had squeezed. There was hope yet.

~

Charlie could count on one hand the number of times she’d seen Dean so panicked so it came as a surprise when she opened her door on a random Wednesday to find Dean there. He had all but chewed through his non-existent cupid’s bow and she could see that he’d been unfocused at work too, hands covered in new scrapes and cuts.

“How strong do I need to make the coffee?” She asked, stepping aside to let Dean in.

“Break out the amaretto.”

Charlie made a noise of surprise before she left for the kitchen, Dean in tow. Putting a pot on and reaching for the mugs, she decided to probe. “You’re panicking, wanna tell me why?”

“I think I fucked everything up with Cas.”

Charlie added more amaretto than necessary to Dean’s mug before pouring in the coffee. She set the mugs on the table before sitting down, looking at Dean again. He still looked panicked but it was more controlled now and so much different than Charlie had dealt with before. This panic was measured, bottled away in a fragile glass that looked like it was about to break.

“I’m assuming this has to do with New Year’s and why you’ve been radio silent with me for the past week and a half.”

Dean nodded his head, hands cupping his  mug as he stared at it.

“I can’t read your mind so you’re gonna have to talk to me. I’m guessing you didn’t kiss him like you’d planned.”

“I got nervous and drank too much so I need you to know I wasn’t thinking clearly.” Dean began, thumb stroking over the mug handle repetitively. “I asked him to dance and we did and it was great but then it got fucked up.”

“So both of you were drunk and nervous, got it.”

“Yeah. He uh said he needed to go get a drink while we were dancing and then practically ran away and he had this like terrified look on his face and I thought he was rejecting me in a nice way so I went outside and then I left. I wasn’t about to get rejected in the middle of a bar.”

Charlie held her tongue, a comment trying to fight its way out. “So he obviously came back and found you gone and then what?”

“Well I went home and threw up because of everything and Ben let him in and he tried talking to me. I told him I liked him and then said that I got that he didn’t like me back. He told me he didn’t regret it and then called me out for doing what I usually do and then I told him to just get out and he left.”

“You self-sabatoged, that’s not surprising. You do tend to do that.”

“I know I do. I’ve been avoiding him but we talked at some point and then I told him to come over for dinner on my birthday and now I’m freaking out.”

“Did he agree to dinner?”

Dean nodded, finally taking a sip of coffee.

“Then you don’t need to freak out. Obviously he wants to patch things up if he agreed to come to dinner and talk to you.”

“He’s not gonna want me after the shit I pulled, that’s why I’m so fucking stressed. No one in their right mind is gonna be like ‘hell yeah I want the damaged one who rejected me’. That’s not the way this works.”

“Dean, I love you but you’re a fucking idiot sometimes.”

That was enough to catch Dean’s attention, his head snapping up at the insult. Reading Charlie’s expression brought no relief, the furrow of her brows and hard set of her mouth telling him that she meant every word. Serious Charlie rarely made an appearance but she was out in full force it seemed. Dean kept quiet, letting her air her grievances.

“He needed a drink because he was nervous and wanted to kiss you, he told me and Rowena himself like three days before New Years. Cas has been in love with you for months, everyone knows that including you. A drunken rejection you use as a defense mechanism isn’t going to scare him off and you know that as much as I do. He agreed to dinner because he wants to talk to you, because he wants to work things out! Please for the love of my sanity, get your head out of your ass.”

“Are you sure?”

The stare Charlie shot Dean’s way was piercing and he wanted to vanish under the table. Her voice, calm as ever but coloured with months of pent up frustration, seemed to ring through him.

“I wouldn’t lie to you, not after 30 years of being your friend. I promise that he’s still into you and you’re still into him or else you wouldn’t have invited him over for dinner.”

“That was a panic decision. He stopped me in the morning before I had to leave for work and I didn’t know what to do so that just made the most sense. Oh god, I’m so fucked.”

“It’s a dinner, I don’t think you’re fucked.”

“I am though because I told him that dinner dates are the worst first dates for so many reasons and I know we’re just meeting to eat and talk but it’s also a date and I don’t know how to do those. I’m a shit cook, I’m gonna end up giving him food poisoning or something.”

Charlie chuckled to herself, mild amusement overtaking her frustration. This was more like her Dean, obsessing over the details and the small events and not catastrophizing. The lecture she’d prepared on telling Dean that he did in fact still like Cas and needed to get everything settled was thrown out. “Find recipes online and follow those, it’s really not that hard. You already know what foods he likes.”

“Do you really think dinner and talking will resolve everything? Because I’m really tired of not being able to say what I mean or do what I want.”

“Well from what both of you have told me, you seem to make more progress when you’re completely alone. Just maybe don’t have wine with dinner.”

“After the hangover I just got over, I’m not drinking for the foreseeable future. Took me almost 4 days to fully recover from that. I don’t think I asked but how’d your New Years go?”

Charlie raised an eyebrow. “It was good but don’t go changing the subject, we’re still on you here. You’ve got dinner plans and you’re gonna figure out your recipes so that takes care of most of it. Knowing you and your brain, you’re gonna have to plan what to wear.”

“I was just gonna wear a flannel and jeans. If I have to be emotionally vulnerable I’m not gonna do it in uncomfortable clothes.”

“Fair enough. Do you still have that yellow and brown flannel? The really tight one, just for clarification.”

Dean nodded. “Got a new brown shirt, would go nice with it. Pulled the rolled up arms and watch trick a few times, think I should pull that again?”

“Absolutely you should. I remember him staring at your hands when you had the rings on so maybe wear those too. Get all the help you can from shit you don’t have to actively do.”

“Okay, sure. But when am I supposed to kiss him if that’s the direction we end up going? Like waiting to the end feels wrong but so does immediately going in for it, especially if he’s not feeling it.”

“You’ll know when the moment is, trust me. You already know what the want feels like for you so just look at his body language and you’ll see. If you’re not sure just ask if you can kiss him because that can be sexy if done right.”

Dean nodded his head. He took another sip of his coffee before scrubbing his face with a hand. “Is dating supposed to feel like my heart just lives in my throat or stomach? Because that’s all I feel. It’s just been such a fucking headache.”

“Yeah, it is. But that’s part of what makes it so fun. You get to learn all of these things about this new person and then you get to grow together. If they make you happy then it’s all worth it and I think Cas makes you happy.”

“I just- I never really saw myself with a guy and it’s been kind of weird to process and reconcile that. Everyone’s been great and supportive and I really appreciate it but I dunno, it’s just different.”

“It’s always gonna be different, no matter how long you do it. Just wait until you get to sex. That’s a whole other beast.”

Dean laughed nervously, reaching for the rest of his coffee to finish it. “Yeah sex isn’t even on the table right now. I can’t bring myself to kiss the man, definitely not gonna do other stuff.”

“I think you might surprise yourself but only do what you’re comfy with.”

“Thanks for the sage advice.” Dean chuckled. “But seriously, thank you. For everything.”

~

“Okay, you can do this. It’s not that hard. Just let him in and have a normal dinner and talk and kiss him. No reason it can’t be like your other hangouts.”

Dean had been staring at himself in the bedroom mirror for the past 25 minutes, looking for imperfections. He’d trimmed his beard, happy with the respectable close shave that he thought added maturity to his face, and even tried to style his hair though he’d given up halfway through and now it sat however it liked on his head. The brown and yellow flannel was tight with rolled sleeves and the jeans hugged his legs comfortably. Even the jewelry, his Dad’s necklace and his own set of rings, went with the outfit. Everything on the outside was perfect.

Inside was a warzone. Anxiety was captaining the ship, telling him that he’d find a way to fuck up dinner and completely ruin whatever he and Cas had going. It was only a matter of time before he did what he always did. If the anxiety wasn’t bad enough then the excitement surely was. He was excited to see Cas again. Three weeks of passing like ships in the night had proven to be almost unbearable. It startled Dean how much he’d missed Cas. But it thrilled him too. Missing Cas meant his feelings were real, meant this wasn’t all just some dream he’d inevitably wake up from.

“Do you think I should do this?” He asked as he turned to the bed, reaching out and scooping up Spork. “Is this a bad idea?”

Spork chirped at Dean and then wiggled out of his arms, padding out of the room. Fearing for the meal he’d slaved over, Dean followed the cat down the stairs and into the kitchen. The table had been set and everything save for the chicken was cooked and ready to be served so Dean felt good about what he’d done. He felt good until he heard the knock at the door.

“This is it Dean, don’t fuck it up.” He mumbled to himself before opening the door. There Cas stood, navy button up tucked into dark jeans and hands full. Dean’s eyes darted from his outfit to his hands, taking in the pie and the gift bag. “Hey, come in.”

Cas stepped inside, expression unreadable. “Think you could take the pie? Can’t undo my shoes without a free hand.”

“Yeah yeah, sure.” Dean said, reaching out to take the pie from Cas. The dish was still warm as Dean carried it to the kitchen and he had no doubt it was freshly baked. His mouth watered but he didn’t have time to consider it because the timer was going off and then he was wrestling Spork for the oven mitts.

Cas, free of shoes, made his way into the kitchen. He noticed the set table first before his attention was drawn to Dean’s struggle and then he was holding back a laugh. Nerves ran him ragged but he was determined to make a good night out of this. “Looks like he’s started causing problems again.”

“Can’t start again if he never stopped the first time.” Dean muttered, yanking the oven mitt away from Spork. Gloved up, he removed the chicken from the oven and set it on the counter. Expecting nice perfect chicken with a crispy herbed crust, Dean felt a jolt of surprise and then the familiar feeling of resigned failure. It was burnt, not quite charred, but noticeably darker than intended.

“Something smells a little burnt, you okay over there?”

“Fucked up dinner but it’s fine.” Dean mumbled, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Can you deal with slightly burnt chicken?”

“You cooked an entire meal, I’m not going to complain about burnt chicken. At least you didn’t somehow set the kitchen curtains on fire. Claire did that the first time she tried to cook using oil.”

The anecdote seemed to help Dean relax some and he busied himself with plating their meal, trying to stall having any sort of serious conversation for as long as possible. His hand shook ever so slightly as he grabbed the plates, grip white knuckle as he brought them over to the table. He still hadn’t looked Cas fully in the eyes, too afraid of what he might see reflected back at him.

“I’m sorry if I give you food poisoning. I tried but then I got distracted and then there were a million things in my head and dinner just kind of happened.”

“Stop being hard on yourself, it looks fine. Smells good at the very least.”

Silence took over as the pair ate, the scraping of utensils against the plate the only relief. Cas wanted to talk, to bring up what he had been thinking about for three weeks but it didn’t look like Dean wanted to talk at all. The man wouldn’t even look at him. It was nothing like their usual dinners, dinners filled with inside jokes and laughs and the kind of warmth that Cas had been lacking for years. This was awkward, stilted.

“So,” he said as he set his fork down, “how’s work been? I’m assuming really busy.”

“Everyone and their fucking mother wants something done and the boss has decided that everyone’s going to physically contribute so yeah, really busy is a bit of an understatement. Add Sam’s renos on top of that and I’ve got no free time or room to breathe. Had to pencil this in in advance just to make it happen.”

“Well thanks for penciling me, I appreciate it. Haven’t gone out much myself, also pretty busy with work.”

Dean nodded his head before getting up, taking their empty plates away. “I saw that new initiative you guys are pushing. Seems really cool, good way to connect the old and new generations.”

“We thought so too. Pie’s fresh by the way, cherry. I remember you saying it’s your favourite and I thought I might need that to fix the monumental fuckup.”

“Can we just- can we not talk about that yet?” Dean mumbled as he dished out two slices of pie. “I’d like to at least finish eating before shit gets complicated.”

“We’re going to have to talk about it eventually and you were the one that invited me over tonight but sure, it can wait a bit. The gift bag’s for you by the way, I know it’s your birthday.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything for my birthday.”

“You got me a pomegranate tree for mine so the least I can do is get you something.” Cas shrugged, accepting a slice of pie from Dean. He tried to seek out Dean’s gaze but Dean was sill refusing to look at him and Cas’ confidence was quickly waning.

Dean, who Cas knew could devour a pie in a sitting, found he wasn’t hungry. He pushed the pie around on his plate, watching the filling ooze out from between the lattices. It was funny, the way the universe brought back little reminders. The last time he’d had cherry pie was the day he left his old job, the day before moving to Paradise Hills. He’d been terrified then too, terrified of stepping into the unknown and coming out the other side. But he had and he’d ended up with family and a support system and a job he loved. So maybe this next step wouldn’t be as bad either.

Cas found his own appetite lacking, downing half a piece before the filling felt too sweet. His stomach was in knots the longer he sat awkwardly in the kitchen with Dean, the elephant in the room threatening to crush them both to death. The solution was simple: just kiss Dean. But Cas couldn’t bring himself to do it, not when he was so uncertain about everything. Before New Years Eve he wouldn’t have hesitated but now he had no idea where he stood and it was awful.

Anxiety thrumming in his veins, Cas got up and tried to expend the energy. He knew Dean’s kitchen like the back of his hand and opened the cabinet doors, pulling out Tupperware for the rest of the meal. Halfway through the green beans, Cas heard Dean speak.

“Hey, stop it. Guests don’t put leftovers away.”

“Am I really a guest?” Cas asked, watching as Dean edged his way over much like one would approach a frightened animal in a cage. He decided to push. “Every other time I’ve been here I’ve had free reign.”

“This isn’t like every other time you’ve been here.”

That struck a nerve and Cas’ expression soured, eyes narrowing as he turned to face Dean. “And why’s it so different this time? Is it because I fucked up on New Year’s? Or did you fuck up on New Year’s? Because that’s the only thing between us that’s changed.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Dean replied quickly, anxiety edging into his voice.

“So what did you mean then?”

Dean swallowed thickly, twisting the rings on his fingers to try and expel the nervous energy. He knew he had the disposition of a Chihuahua, practically shaking in his boots in front of Cas. The last thing he’d expected was a direct frustrated confrontation, despite how warranted it was.

“I just- that came out wrong. I meant to say that stuff that wasn’t out in the open is now and it makes it different.”

“Being out in the open doesn’t make it different when it’s been like this for months!” Cas huffed. “Neither of us have handled this well but we have the chance now and you can’t even look at me. If you’re going to stick with what you said on New Year’s, at least have the decency to look me in the eye.”

“I’m not trying to stick with what I said then, I just- I can’t figure out how to say what I want to say.” Dean mumbled. The dinner was rapidly derailing and his rapid heartbeat was taking up space in his throat, blocking the words from escaping. Cas’ tone and the added pressure it brought didn’t help. When Dean finally worked up the courage to look at Cas, his resolve nearly crumbled. Cas looked hurt, eyes shining and mouth set into a despairing frown.

“I swore off romance, did you know that?” Cas began, voice wavering. “It was too messy, too complicated, and I was just too selfish for it. And then you came along. I don’t fucking know how but you broke my walls down, Dean. You wormed your way in and you warmed me up and somewhere along the line I started to care for you. I like you, Dean, in ways I didn’t think I could.”

Dean couldn’t look away now, eyes glued to Cas’ face. Cas continued.

“I could deal with the rejection if it was just about sex but it isn’t. For fuck’s sake, all I want to do is everything else. I want to talk about our days and grocery shop and drink coffee on the porch and do all of that bullshit couple stuff. But I guess it’s fucked up and that’s fine. Just tell me you don’t want me like that, just reject me so I can move on because this, this game of cat and mouse and near misses is too fucking much for me.”

Try as he might, Dean couldn’t get the words out of his throat. A litany of Cas, I’s, and I just’s fell from Dean’s lips but he couldn’t get the sentence out. He couldn’t tell Cas how he felt, how much he meant to him. Dean couldn’t tell Cas that he liked him too, that he wanted him, and the pit of despair was growing ever wider.

Cas didn’t know how long he stood there listening to Dean’s half stammered non-sentences but eventually it grew to be too much and he shook his head sadly. For the first time in years he wanted to throw himself into his bed and cry. “Great chat, thanks. I’m gonna see myself out now.”

Dean’s heart nearly burst, fear and panic overwhelming him as he watched Cas turn away from him. The words weren’t coming out and Dean didn’t know if they ever would so he did the only thing he could do and acted. He caught Cas’ wrist to stop him from leaving and when Cas turned, all rage and fire in his blue eyes, Dean grabbed his face and kissed him.

Chapter Text

Cas’ face fit perfectly in Dean’s hands, fingers on his neck and thumbs on his cheeks. The kiss was hard and desperate and when he felt Cas stiffen, Dean stopped. He pulled his hands away, letting them drop numbly to his sides. His eyes searched Cas’ face, trying to come up with indication as to how Cas felt. When he couldn’t find any, he looked up to blink back the oncoming burning tears.

“I’m sorry.” He stammered, voice raw with too many emotions. “That was stupid.”

Cas shook his head, mind racing a mile a minute. His body moved without his awareness, a hand on Dean’s hip as he pressed against him and backed him against the kitchen counter. He reached out with a hand, cupping Dean’s face and guiding it down so he could look at him. His voice was soft when he spoke.

“No it wasn’t.”

This kiss, just as desperate as the first, felt different. Cas kissed Dean like he’d wanted to for months, hand cupping Dean’s face and pulling it closer. He wanted Dean, wanted everything that came along with him and hoped Dean understood.

Stunned for a moment, one thought punched its way to the forefront of Dean’s mind. Cas wanted him. He could have this. He could have Cas. Freed from his reservations, Dean moved. He slid his hands down Cas’ back, feeling the muscle moving beneath his shirt, and settled them on the small just above his waistband. Counter digging into his back Dean pushed forward, trying to lead Cas to somewhere that wasn’t the counter or the kitchen. 

Cas backed up, lips still working against Dean’s. His back hit the wall separating the kitchen and the living room and Cas laughed breathlessly, winding his arms around Dean’s neck. Momentarily freed from the kiss, Cas snuck a look at Dean. Dean’s eyes, more pupil than iris, stared back at him.

“Thought you were out of practice.” Cas teased, still grinning as he slid his fingers through Dean’s hair.

“I am.”

Cas cocked his head to the side, eyes flicking to Dean’s lips before sliding back to his face. He reached out, hands grabbing Dean’s flannel. “Guess I’m in for a wild ride.”

A beat passed while Dean shrugged the flannel off, unceremoniously dumping it on the kitchen floor. His hands found their way to Cas’ hips, thumbs stroking the jut of them. He wanted to kiss Cas again, to move him somewhere else and see what happened but rationality was making an unwanted appearance.

“We should probably talk about what’s happening.” He said, watching with blooming worry as Cas’ grin faltered for a moment.

“We probably should.” Cas agreed, arms still around Dean’s neck and pulling Dean towards the living room as he backed up. “But I really think we should kiss each other breathless first.”

Dean smiled and then his lips were on Cas’ again. This kiss was different, less desperate but just as hungry. Dean had given himself permission to do this and he wasn’t backing down. His hands slid up Cas’ body, hands working to unbutton his shirt as Dean pushed Cas closer to the couch. He managed a few buttons before they reached the couch, Cas’ legs buckling as he fell back onto it.

Sprawled out on the couch, Cas unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and let it fall. His chest heaved as he stared up at Dean, trying to memorialize the moment. He catalogued the flush of Dean’s cheeks, his lips turning apple red, even the way his t-shirt clung to his body and moved with him. Dean’s eyes moved as if assessing the scene and Cas watched curiously.

“I don’t think we’ll both fit on the couch.” Dean said finally, arms crossing over his chest. “Not in any comfortable way anyway.”

Cas thought for a moment before he rose from the couch, invading Dean’s personal space once again. This was his area of expertise, leading the unsure through everything. “I have an idea,” he grinned, leaning in to kiss Dean’s jaw. Each word that followed Cas punctuated with a kiss, making his way to Dean’s neck as he slid his hands up Dean’s body. “Let me take you to bed.”

Dean nearly short circuited, breath stuck in his lungs. Cas’ lips were on his neck, hands roaming his body, and all it did was completely fuzz out his brain. His hands found their way to Cas’ back and then Dean was sliding along his bare skin, feeling every bit of muscle. He wanted Cas to take him to bed, desperately wanted to see what else there was. In the end, Dean nodded his head and sealed the deal.

Cas took his hand and led Dean upstairs to his bedroom. He got Dean to sit, legs outstretched, and then he was sitting on Dean’s lap, legs straddling him. Dean’s thighs were firm beneath him and as much as Cas wanted to see them, he knew he wouldn’t. That was a step too far. Grabbing the hem of Dean’s t-shirt, Cas waited until he got a nod before he was pulling it off and tossing it onto the floor. “Wow.”

Dean stared at Cas, hands resting on his thighs. He looked embarrassed, shy almost. “Wow what? Is that a bad wow?”

“Not a bad wow.” Cas replied, sliding his hands up Dean’s chest and then winding his arms around his neck. “It’s a ‘I can’t believe how hot you are’ wow. You give a man all kinds of bad ideas.”

“Cas I’m not-”

“I know you’re not and that’s fine.” Cas interrupted, leaning in for a soft kiss. “I’m happy to just kiss you for a while.”

Relaxing, Dean leaned in and kissed back. This was where he wanted to be, what he wanted to do, and it was just as nice as he’d imagined. Cas was good at what he did and Dean felt his resolve slipping when Cas kissed his neck, resolve nearly crumbling when he felt Cas’ lips ghost the junction of his neck and shoulder. He tried to see if he could see what made Cas tick but every time he tried, Cas simply shook his head in amusement and distracted him with another kiss. By the time Cas finished and climbed off of Dean’s lap, Dean was nothing but a pile of relaxed bliss.

Cas chuckled to himself, slipped out of his jeans, and then stretched out in the bed beside Dean. He could see the gears turning in Dean’s head and thought about leaving it alone. He didn’t. What Cas did do was scoot closer and lay his head in Dean’s lap.

“Are you gonna live?” He asked, seemingly settling down when he felt the familiar brush of Dean’s fingers through his mussed hair.

“I’ll live. Just uh, wasn’t expecting to makeout with you for 2 hours. Gives a man a lot to think about.”

“That’s your problem, Dean. You think too much.”

“In my defense, all of this is new to me and a little overwhelming. I didn’t even know I liked men until October.”

Cas hummed, closing his eyes as they talked. “Got any regrets about kissing me?”

“God no.” Dean replied quickly. He looked down at Cas, grateful he didn’t have to stare him in the face as they talked. Dean continued mussing up Cas’ hair. “I like you, Cas. You’re an incredible Dad and an amazing person and also really hot. It was kind of impossible not to fall for you. I was just- I didn’t know how to go about things.”

“If it helps I don’t know how to go about things either. Not these things.”

At that Dean paused, fingers stilling. He didn’t understand what Cas meant, curiosity driving him. Gently lifting Cas’ head off of his lap, Dean then stretched out beside Cas so they could look at each other. “What does that mean?”

Cas shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t do relationships or romance, haven’t in years. So this, this feels new to me and it’s exciting and terrifying and it’s made everything so much more difficult than it needed to be.”

“So relationships and romance, that’s what you want from me?”

“If you have to put a label on it then yeah, that’s what I want. That’s what I’ve wanted for a while.”

Dean scooted closer, a few inches between them now. “How long?”

“Well I uh, I always thought you were attractive so I guess I’ve wanted to sleep with you since I handed you that pie welcoming you to the neighbourhood. If we’re talking relationship, I can’t pinpoint an exact moment but I think it started around my birthday.”

“Oh. Oh that’s a long time.”

“Well good things come to those who wait.” Cas said softly, bold enough to cup Dean’s face and lean in for another kiss. He let his hand linger when the kiss broke. “I want to see where this goes, Dean, where we go.”

Dean looked away for a moment, swallowing thickly when his eyes returned to meet Cas’ gaze. “I don’t think I can move very fast.”

“We go as slow as you need.”

Relief flooded Dean’s veins, a smile gracing his face. They were on the same page, the actual same page. Sure it had taken entirely too many months but it was all worth it to have Cas in his bed, lying right next to him, asking for a relationship. Dean placed his hand on top of Cas’, thumb stroking gently.

“At least we don’t have to tell everyone about it. They all kind of know already so I guess that's a perk of being the last to figure it out.”

“It really is.” Cas agreed. “Think you’ve recovered enough to head downstairs? This is nice but I really want to finish that slice of pie. Took me ages to make that crust.”

Dean thought for a moment before he grinned at Cas again, pulling his hand away. “I would but I’m comfy. If you bring the pie up here, we can eat.”

“You never eat in your bed.”

“I’m making an exception tonight.”

“In that case, I’ll be back with pie.”

Dean waited until Cas was gone before he sat up, wiggling out of his jeans. The entire night felt surreal, like he was living in a fantasy world or a dream. Sure he’d almost cried and fucked things up but he’d fixed them and more importantly, he’d kissed Cas. He’d actually made a move and it was reciprocated and Cas was here and it was real and his heart was beginning to race again.

Cas appeared in the doorway, pie and forks in hand. He lingered there, taking in the scene before him. Dean’s bedroom remained unchanged, the same nerdy décor and style as it had had months ago but Cas noticed a few things. The annotated book sat on Dean’s nightstand, pencil next to it as if Dean had been writing his own thoughts next to Cas’. There was a plant on Dean’s windowsill too and Cas knew that hadn’t been there before. Cas' influence was there and it tugged at his heartstrings.

“I’m going to be hard to get rid of, just so you know.” Cas said as he padded over to the bed, setting the pie on a pillow between himself and Dean. “I stick like glue and I’ve got these shitty cursed legs that mean I don’t move well. You really sure you want that?”

“You were there for me when everything with Lisa went down and for the Ben fallout and you never complained, never did anything except help where you could. Not to mention you’ve been patient as hell while I tried to figure all of these feelings out and I know you’re gonna keep being patient as hell the more we get into this thing. So yeah, I do want that. I want you, Cas, shitty cursed legs and all.”

Cas smiled again, almost shy as he sat down and grabbed a fork. “Keep saying stuff like that and I’m going to have to shut you up.”

“Maybe that’s what I want.”

Cas shook his head, smiling down into the pie as he ate. He stretched out when the pie was demolished, laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. Try as he might to relax, he could feel Dean’s eyes on him. There was something in the air too, a hesitancy Cas knew was coming from Dean.

“You had your hands on my ass earlier, ask whatever question’s on your mind.” He chuckled, stretching an arm out across the pillows just in case.

“It’s a stupid question.”

“Ask anyway.”

Dean sighed, hesitant as he asked. “So we’ve uh cuddled before, just on the couch and stuff. Does it work the same in a bed? Like do two guys cuddle the same as a man and a woman would.”

“Yep, exactly the same. My arm’s out if you’d like me to spend the night and test the theory.”

It took Dean all of three seconds to give in and go for it, snuggling up against Cas and resting his head on his shoulder. Too many years had passed since he’d had someone in his bed, since he’d shifted to rest his head on Cas’ heart, the beat was slow and steady.

He’d made it to where he wanted to be and as he lay there, closing his eyes to truly relish the comfort, Dean let himself drift off to sleep.

Dean was regretting letting Cas sleep over by the time 2 am rolled around. The first few hours had been fine but then Dean felt Cas shifting and that was it for his peace. Calling Cas a restless sleeper was a bit like calling a disco ball shiny in that it undersold everything. Dean was slapped, shoved, kicked, and nearly strangled as Cas tried to get comfortable.

“You’re not sleeping over again if you hit me one more time.” Dean muttered after the third time Cas’ hand fell onto his face.  “I need my sleep too.”

Cas huffed, wide awake as he rolled onto his back. “I’m just not used to your mattress. Or sharing a bed.”

“And you think I am?”

“It’s your mattress, I’d hope you’d be used to it.”

“It’s new, only had it since the move here so haven’t really broken it in yet.”

“I could think of a few ways to break it in.”

Dean could feel Cas’ grin in the dark and heat prickled his cheek. Having Cas in his bed was one thing but hearing him insinuate about what they could do in said bed was something else entirely different. Knowing he was fully awake now, Dean rolled onto his side so he could look at where he knew Cas was in the dark. “You really want in my pants don’t you?”

“I’ve never denied that.” Cas replied, rolling on his side so he could look at Dean’s vague outline in the dark. “But you’ve had to at least have broken this in a little bit, by yourself if with no one else.”

“Nope.”

“You must have the willpower of a fucking saint.” Cas said, voice full of surprise. “You’re telling me that in all these months of frustration with whatever the hell we were doing, you never did that once?”

“Never said I didn’t do it, just not in my bed.”

Cas shifted closer in the dark, curiosity stirring. He’d heard Dean’s voice when he’d been tired before but hearing it like this, hearing it so close and so fresh from sleep was thrilling. It stirred something in Cas, something he knew he’d have to swallow down to honour Dean’s boundaries. “Where’d you do it?”

“I don’t know if I should be feeding your bad thoughts. Might get me into trouble.” Dean chuckled. He reached out, resting a hand on Cas’ face and stroking at his cheek. Being allowed to touch Cas like this had opened the floodgates and it’s all Dean wanted to do.

“Me, trouble? Never.”

Dean snorted, amused by the sarcasm. He scooted closer, stopping only when he felt Cas’ legs against his. This closeness was good, enough to be nice but far away enough to avoid any bad ideas. Still stroking Cas’ cheek, Dean mulled over whether or not to admit to what he’d done. Admitting it meant no more secrets but it also meant explaining the panties and that story and while he knew Cas wouldn’t judge, it was still a risk. The panties called to Dean every time he passed by his nightstand, like some dirty little pleasure, and his resolve was crumbling. Cas would probably want to see them or he’d get the wrong impression or something else would happen and Dean just wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.

“Must be a good story if you’re silent.” Cas chuckled, turning his head ever so slightly to press a kiss to Dean’s wrist. “Want me to share first?”

“I still can’t believe you would do that because of me.”

“Well I have,” Cas admitted as he grabbed Dean’s hand and pressed another kiss to it. “Remember my birthday and Meg leaving?”

“I remember questioning your taste in women.”

“Yeah well that’s the night that kicked it all off. Kept thinking about you and it kind of ruined that hookup and stopped all other hookups. Kind of went solo after that and mostly thought of you.”`

Dean’s cheeks grew redder, that warmth blooming in his stomach again. “Aren’t you worried we’re not gonna be compatible? Cuz you’re batting I don’t even know how many and I’m batting like 2.”

“Doesn’t mean we’ll be incompatible.” Cas shrugged, shifting closer and stretching an arm over Dean’s middle. “All it means is I can provide a safe and consensual environment for you to figure yourself out. I know what I like and don’t like and that boundary might help you figure out what you do and don’t like. There doesn’t have to be any pressure or anything.”

“So no kinky rope shit right away then. How disappointing.”

“I know you’re just joking but even if you weren’t, it would still be a no.”

“Why would it still be a no? Not mad, just wondering.”

“Well you’ve got no experience with a man at all so I’m not gonna try to do that and add kink at the same time. It’d be too overwhelming. We go step by step and then we add things as need be, that’s it. Provided of course I didn’t just piss you off enough to dump me.”

“Funny, I don’t remember being asked out officially.”

Cas thought for a moment before he grinned, pulling Dean as close as he could. “Guess we’ll have to rectify that.”

The kiss was playful, Cas’ lips moving slowly against Dean’s. He skimmed his hand along Dean’s side, ghosting across the dip at his waist and settling on the jut of his hip. Only when Dean deepened the kiss did Cas move further, coaxing Dean onto his back before climbing on top of him.

“Will you,” Cas said as he kissed Dean’s jaw, “be my boyfriend?”

Dean, eyes closed and head tilted, groaned softly. “Yeah, I will.”

~

Cas was the first of the pair to rouse in the morning, grinning like an idiot when he remembered where he was. Dean’s body weight pressed down on him and very carefully Cas extricated himself from the pile of limbs and tangle of sheets. It was only when he climbed off of the bed that he turned to take a good look at Dean.

The man looked peaceful, the stress and tension gone from his shoulders and his face as he slept. With the light filtering in through the window, Cas saw the smattering of freckles and nearly climbed back into bed to count them all. He could that later he told himself. Reaching for the first t-shirt of Dean’s he could find, he slipped it on and then padded downstairs. Breakfast for the pair seemed like a good idea.

Expecting the kitchen to be empty when he got downstairs, Cas nearly jumped out of his skin. Light aside, Ben was standing at the stove with a spatula in hand and he whipped around at the first sign of noise. He gave Cas a quick once over before speaking, sounding entirely too amused. “Good talk last night?”

Cas nodded his head. “That’s all we did.”

“Mm yeah sure.” Ben said, gesturing in the direction of Spork who was laying on Dean’s discarded flannel on the floor. “Dad still sleeping?”

“Yeah, still sleeping. I was planning on making breakfast, if that’s cool.”

Ben shrugged his shoulders, flipping his pancakes onto his plate before grabbing a fork and heading for the kitchen table. Seeing Cas in the kitchen didn’t feel too weird but seeing him in his Dad’s shirt did. “I’m gonna guess you two figured out your weird tension thing so can I stop tiptoeing around it now?”

“We have and you can. Just maybe don’t go around talking to people about it. Even though they definitely all already know.”

“Wasn’t gonna. Your business is your business. Assuming you want to tell Jack and Claire yourself?”

“Preferably.”

Ben nodded his head, turning his attention back to his pancakes. Cas set to work making a pot of coffee with the nice beans Dean reserved for when he was over before deciding breakfast needed to be simple. He cracked the bacon open and managed to lay the strips on the pan before he was turning and dropping a piece on the floor right in front of Spork. The cat dragged the bacon back to Dean’s flannel, content to chew on it.

Footsteps thudded down the stairs a few minutes after the bacon started cooking and then Dean was making an appearance, all bleary eyed and exhausted. He padded past Ben and the cat, stopping behind Cas and wrapping his arms around his waist.

“You’re an asshole for making me wake up in an empty bed.” Dean muttered, resting his head on Cas’ shoulder. “Gonna have to make it up to me.”

“There’s a fresh pot of coffee and I’m making breakfast. Is that sufficient?”

“Might need a kiss too. Just to heal my hurt feelings.”

“Pretty sure Ben wouldn’t appreciate the pda.” Cas chuckled, shifting to put a few pieces of bread in the toaster.

“Ben’s not gonna be home until like 9:30, we’ve got plenty of time.”

“Except that it’s 10 am and Ben’s sitting at the kitchen table.”

That was enough to alarm Dean and he let go of Cas, pouring himself a large mug of coffee and taking a few sips before daring to peer over at the kitchen table. Ben was there and Dean’s cheeks burned crimson, expression like he’d be caught doing something naughty in school. “Heyy kiddo…”

“Oh my God you’re gonna make this weird again, aren’t you?”

“No, no I’m not. This doesn’t have to be weird.”

Ben made a pained expression before grabbing his plate and standing up. “Well I’m gonna take this upstairs and let you and Cas have breakfast and then when he leaves you can come find me and we can have whatever awkward talk you feel like we need to have about this.” With that, Ben excused himself and vanished upstairs.

“Oh God I’m never gonna live this down, am I?” Dean muttered, staring into his mug of coffee.

“Probably not, no.” Cas chuckled, leaning over to press a kiss to Dean’s cheek. It was horribly domestic but he didn’t mind. “I’m almost done with breakfast if you want to sit down.”

Dean waved a hand, simply setting down his mug of coffee and grabbing a plate when the toast was ready and buttered. Breakfast was tasty, a rare treat knowing the eggs weren’t foamy and gross, and Dean practically wolfed it down. He’d learned to never waste Cas’ cooking. A thought popped into his head and he smiled to himself, knowing he’d have more breakfasts like this if he wanted them. And he wanted them.

“Isn’t this all a little domestic for you?” He asked when he finished eating, picking his mug up again.

“Well everyone has been telling me I should get domesticated. But no, not really. I do this for everyone when I stay the night and besides, second base warrants a decent breakfast. Get a home run and I’ll make you eggs benedict from scratch.”

“Noted.”

Cas smiled down at his plate, shaking his head in amusement. Despite how angry of a sleeper Dean was and how much he didn’t like mornings, there was something so endearing about being able to spend one with him. It was hardly their first but it felt like it, felt like the veil had been lifted and they could be like they always were but on the same page this time. Cas excused himself when he’d finished eating, returning a few minutes later with his jeans on and his shirt tucked over his arm.

“So I don’t get my shirt back?”

Cas debated before grinning slyly. “You can come get it when you sleep over at my place.”

“Fine by me. I’ll see you later, Cas.”

“See you later, Dean.”

Dean smiled as he watched Cas leave, heart fluttering in his chest. More mornings meant more nights and he couldn’t wait. Turning his attention back to the matter at hand, Dean scooped up Spork and made his way upstairs to Ben’s room. He knocked, waited for Ben to look up, and then shuffled in.

“So,” Dean said hesitantly as he sat on the edge of Ben’s bed, “me and Cas are a thing now. I’m really hoping this doesn’t have to complicate things or make things weird. I know it’s been a while since I’ve dated and you’ve said you’re fine with it but that was before the whole ‘dating a man’ of it all and I just don’t wanna put you in a weird spot even though I know you've said it's totally fine before.”

“Dad, you two obviously make each other happy and that’s enough for me. I literally don’t care about any of the other shit. Just don’t be loud, that’s all I’m asking. Also no explicit details. I’m already grossed out enough seeing the hickeys.”

Dean clapped a hand over his neck, embarrassed. “I’m going to kill him.”

“You like him too much for that. Are we good now that we’ve talked?”

“Yeah we’re good.”

~

Cas wasn’t entirely sure what to expect when he walked into his house after leaving Dean’s. Part of him hoped the kids would still be asleep so he could crawl upstairs and climb back into his bed without all of the nagging questions he knew were going to come. The other part of him wanted them to be awake and waiting so that he could get all of the questions over with and then move on with his life.

What he got was something in the middle.

Claire was awake uncharacteristically early and perched on the kitchen counter eating a bagel, a tub of cream cheese and a knife next to her. She glanced up when she heard footsteps, eyes falling to Cas. Her scan for clues yielded little save for the t-shirt he was wearing.

“Nice t-shirt, looks new. Whose is it?”

“Why are you on the counter? We have perfectly good chairs.”

Claire shrugged her shoulders dismissively. “Don’t change the topic. Whose shirt is that?”

“Dean’s.”

“You finally slept together, thank God.”

“We didn’t have sex if that’s what you’re insinuating,” Cas clarified. He leaned against the counter next to Claire, looking at the fridge door while they talked. “I slept over in his bed but that’s about it.”

“One or both you were shirtless at some point or else he wouldn’t have given you a t-shirt. So you kissed, right?”

Cas nodded his head.

“Okay good. So are you two like dating now or? Like what’s the situation here?”

“We’re dating but we’re taking it slow. Neither of us really want to rush into it, different reasons but same end goal I suppose.”

Claire chewed on the response while she hopped off the counter to put the cream cheese away. There were a million other questions floating around in her mind but half of them couldn’t be answered because the situation hadn’t happened yet and the other half would probably get her a stern look from Cas. She ended up leaning against the counter next to Cas. “So, you finally kissed him and you’re finally together. Is it everything you expected it to be?”

“Can’t really answer that seeing as it’s less than 24 hours old but I think it will be. Are you done with your burning questions?”

“Well I doubt you’re gonna answer the inappropriate ones so yeah, I’m pretty much done. Just got one more.” Cas turned his head to glance at Claire, gesturing for her to ask. She took a moment but asked, grinning. “Am I gonna need earplugs for when he sleeps over?”

“You’re terrible.” Cas chuckled, pushing Claire’s shoulder playfully.

“I know but that’s why you love me. But seriously, I’m really happy for you Dad.”

Chapter Text

The clock blinked 1 am as Dean stared at it, unable to fall asleep. His bed felt empty and cold. He’d spent most of his nights since he and Cas had kissed with Cas in his bed or himself in Cas’ bed. It wasn’t supposed to be like that but it worked. Dean slept better when he was with Cas and he knew Cas felt the same. There was just something calming about sharing a bed with someone you cared about. Of course it helped being neighbours and all.

Dean had never really cared about Valentine’s Day. It was always a couple’s day, a day full of overpriced chocolates and wilting roses, but this year felt different. This was the year meant for him. It was the first year he was out of the closet and more than that, it was the first year in over a decade and a half that he’d had someone to share it with. He’d wanted to share it with Cas, to have the cheesy dinner and the chocolates and the flowers and the stupid sexy outfits, but they hadn’t been able to. Cas had been out of town for work and wasn’t supposed to be back until the 20^th. That left Dean alone and frustrated. They’d called and even facetimed once in the week and a half since Cas had been gone and while that had been nice, it wasn’t enough. Cas had missed the facetime call that night and while Dean told himself it wasn’t really a big deal, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Dean reached for his phone at 1:30, planning on aimlessly scrolling social media in a futile attempt to distract himself enough to fall asleep. Doomscrolling Claire called it. The ding of a text message distracted him and he opened it without a second thought, eyebrows furrowing in confusion at the text.

Open your front door

Blinking at the message, Dean decided to see who it was without checking the contact name. He set his phone down before pulling himself from bed, readjusting his flannel pj pants and t-shirt before padding down the stairs. It seemed like a text Charlie would send so it was probably her trying to plan some kind of surprise for Rowena or wanting to tell Dean about her latest sexual encounter. She always wanted to tell him about those now that she knew Dean was getting a little of his own bedroom excitement. 

Pulling open the front door, Dean’s eyes widened. Standing in front of him was a familiar face, fond smile tugging at his lips as his blue eyes sought Dean’s. There was a bouquet in his hand, half wilted flowers a little sad in the light of the porch. But Dean didn’t care, too busy breaking into a grin as his heart sped up.

“Think I can come in?” Cas asked, still smiling.

Dean nodded and stepped aside to let him in, still processing. Cas was here in his hallway, he was actually here, and it wasn’t a dream. There were a million questions running through Dean’s head but none of them of them actually came out as he followed Cas to the kitchen. He wanted to know everything about the trip and about how Cas had managed to come back an entire 5 days early.

“Sorry the flowers are a little lackluster. Airport didn’t exactly have a big selection and then I dropped them getting out of the taxi like fifteen minutes ago.” Cas explained, back turned to Dean as he pulled a vase out of the cupboard. Once he’d filled it with water and set the flowers inside, he turned to face Dean.

Dean, still in shock, couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot. His heart thudded as he wrapped his arms around Cas’ waist, pulling him close. “You’re not supposed to be here for the next five days. How are you here?”

“Well, I got on an airplane in Toronto and then flew back into the state and then got a taxi from the airport to get me here.” Cas explained, winding his arms around Dean’s neck. There was a shit eating grin on his face.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Cas’ grin widened before he leaned in and kissed Dean. It was soft and slow, the kind of long drawn out kiss that made Dean weak in the knees. They parted after a few minutes but remained close, still pressed against each other and holding the other close. “I know you don’t care about Valentine’s Day but I didn’t think our first one should be spent alone and sad in different countries.” Cas explained, toying with a lock of Dean’s hair. “Thought you might like the surprise. And the flowers.”

“I love the surprise.”

“Good. Now do you think I could sleep here for the night? I really don’t feel like walking the minute it takes me to get back to my place.”

“Of course you can. Honestly, I couldn’t sleep tonight so maybe this’ll help.” Dean admitted. He pulled himself away from Cas before taking his hand and leading him upstairs, closing the bedroom door behind them.

Dean hopped back onto the bed, stretching out and getting comfortable as he looked at Cas. The man looked exhausted, bags deeper than usual, but there was a playful smile on his face. Dean had grown to love that smile and everything it promised and tonight was no exception. “How was the trip?” he asked.

“Good, productive. We managed to work out an agreement that’ll be pretty beneficial for both of our groups. Had enough time to sneak off and have some personal time too.”

“Personal time sounds fun.”

Cas nodded his head, dropping his bag onto the floor. He slid off his trench coat and then suddenly Dean was paying more attention to him, eyes glued to his body. Dean had seen Cas in many thing but this outfit, this outfit was entirely new. There had to be three separate business layers and it intrigued him.

“This a new suit?” Dean asked, staring at the cut of the jacket on Cas’ shoulders and arms. It was just tight enough to look professional but still roomy enough to breathe. He was sitting up now, watching with rapt attention as Cas slid out of the suit jacket.

Cas grinned at Dean when he felt his eyes, deciding to have a little fun. He stepped closer to the bed before untying his tie and slowly dropping it on the floor. Dean had moved closer now, about halfway down the bed. “It is, thanks for noticing. You like it?”

Dean nodded his head, eyes following Cas’ hands as they unbuttoned his dress shirt. Expecting bare skin, Dean was met with the white of a tanktop and he cursed internally. When the shirt fell to the floor, finally exposing Cas’ arms, Dean couldn’t focus on anything except how good Cas’ arms looked. He hadn’t seen them in ages and here they were, as muscular as ever. The noise of Cas fiddling with his belt buckle snapped Dean back into reality.

“Cat got your tongue?” Cas teased gently, pulling his belt off and letting it hit the floor. He could see Dean clearer now, could see the rapid rise and fall of his chest and the faint flush on his face. Dean was nearly at the edge of the bed now, almost close enough to touch. Cas bent down to pull his socks off and when he looked up, Dean was on his knees on the bed.

“You’re killing me.” Dean mumbled, hooking his thumbs in the belt loops of Cas’ pants and pulling him closer. Not quite face to face, Dean had to look up to meet Cas’ gaze. “Undressing like a fucking grandpa.”

Cas laughed quietly. Of course Dean would be impatient. He could feel Dean’s hands unbuttoning his pants and sliding them down his legs but he didn’t mind. Stepping out of them, he brought his hands up to cup Dean’s face. “I missed you.”

That was all Dean needed to hear before he was surging up and kissing Cas, hands sliding to his hips to pull him down onto the bed. Cas landed on top of Dean with a thud, rolling onto his side and laughing breathlessly into the kiss before he deepened it. He let Dean pull his tank top off and then it was Dean breaking the kiss, green eyes staring at Cas.

“I missed you too.”

Cas smiled fondly before tugging at the hem of Dean’s shirt, waiting for Dean to pull it off before settling back down. He glanced back at the clock, registering the time before he turned back to Dean. “It’s only 2, think you’re up for a little fun?”

“M’not ready to hop on the horse and go for a ride,” Dean said, sliding a hand up Cas’ leg to rest on his upper thigh under his boxers, “but I could do some exploring.”

Cas grinned, leaning in to kiss Dean a bit harder. “You’re in great hands then.”

~

Cas woke up in Dean’s bed sometime around one in the afternoon, yawning as he stretched his arms. He didn’t feel Dean next to him and huffed. After being gone for so long and spending the night with Dean, all Cas had wanted was to wake up next to him. Sitting up with another yawn, Cas heard the telltale sounds of a get-together coming from the main floor. Dean hadn’t mentioned anything about it the night before or in the past few weeks so it caught Cas by surprise.

There was a loud laugh and Dean knew it was Benny. Of course it would be a neighbourhood get together, that made perfect sense. The polite thing to do would be to wander downstairs and join the party but it felt a bit like an intrusion as well. He reached for his pants but decided he didn’t want them, instead crawling out of bed to rifle through Dean’s drawers. He ended up borrowing a pair of jeans and t-shirt, grateful he had a belt so they didn’t slide down.

Hesitation rooted Cas to the spot as he stared at himself in the mirror, stared at himself in Dean’s clothes. Wearing Dean’s clothes was already becoming a habit and truthfully his t-shirts were more comfortable anyways. It was what the t-shirt meant that gave him pause. He and Dean were together, romantically, and while Cas didn’t want that to change, he was nervous about going down and seeing everyone. All the neighbours knew, in theory, that they had gotten together, but there was no real tangible show of affection that had proved it. Cas was more than okay to wander down and give them that proof but he didn’t know how Dean would feel about it.

“If this ends us then so be it.” Cas mumbled to himself, finally leaving the bedroom.

The get together was in full swing when he made it downstairs and everyone was hanging out in the living, lounging on the furniture and the floor and chatting away like nobody’s business. Taking a deep breath, he made his way into the living room. Dean was in the arm chair and smiled when he noticed Cas. Cas made his way over and sat on the edge of the arm chair, arm behind Dean to keep himself steady. Bold as he was, Cas leaned down to kiss the top of Dean's head.

There was no murmur of surprise or looks of shock from their friends at the display of affection, though Charlie and Rowena did flash the pair a thumbs up of support. The conversation returned to its steady pace now that Cas was there and he seemed to relax, feeling Dean relax under his arm. Their friends seemed happy, supportive, and it meant they had nothing to worry about. The shame, the worry of humiliation and judgment, all of it had been for nothing. As Dean and Cas sat there and talked, they settled upon a single shared idea in their heads.

Whatever was in store for them, they would face together.