Return to Me (10/10)

[breebree16]

Chapter Ten

The sun shines bright today, not a cloud in the sky. Dean sits in a suit that he hates, waiting for the owner of the zoo to finish his speech and introducing him, as well as the rest of the habitat. Dean looks out into the crowd of people here for the dedication. The rich donors, the conservationists. The whole crew from the restaurant, Adam and Anna and their kids, and Cas in the front, holding Ben in his lap. Ben keeps waving and blowing kisses and Dean waves back with a grin.

“I’m sure you guys are tired of hearing me talk,” says the director and people laugh. “Well he’s the man of the hour, Dean Winchester.”

There’s more clapping and the guys cheer for him and Ben waves so wildly that Dean thinks his hand will pop off. His gut churns having to stand up there. Sweat pools down his back at the heat of the sun. Cas helped him with the speech notes. He had stayed up almost all night trying to write something perfect. Something Lisa would have been proud of.

At the microphone, he clears his throat. “First of all, I couldn’t have done this without my crew.” More clapping. “And my brother, Sam, head vetenarian here.” Sam sits in the rows of chairs on stage. He stands and gives a little wave.

And Ben almost jumps out of Cas’ arms and yells “YAY TAM!” As loud as he can. And there’s laughing and Sam waves back.

“That’s my son,” Dean apologizes into the mic with a grin. “And of course, this wouldn’t be here without my late wife, Lisa.” He starts to get a little choked up. “Uh, she worked with Sidney for years, taught him sign language and she wanted this for him and his family. And she had such dedication and warmth and kindness…” He stops for a second to breathe. Just breathe, it’ll be okay, he hears her saying, hears Cas say it too. “You know, she loved helping others, animals and people. So, I am proud to open this habitat in the name of Lisa Braeden Winchester.”

As people clap and cheer, Sam unlocks the inside of the habitat and Sidney comes out, walking around the fresh grass, staring out at the crowd. He climbs onto one of the trees and stares out. He loves the attention, always has.

Dean looks back into the audience at Cas smiling back at him. Ben wiggles free at least and climbs onto the stage. Dean pulls up his son and holds him close, kisses him on the cheek.

“Mam,” Ben says.

“Yeah,” Dean says back. “This is for Mommy.”

~

ONE YEAR LATER

Castiel wakes in a too-warm cocoon of blankets and an arm. A body pressed against his, breath tickling his neck. He opens his eyes to stare at the wall, egg-shell white, with tiny brown speckles. Dean didn’t understand Cas’ need to paint the rooms when they moved in; the walls had been an off-white to begin with. But Cas had never had a place of his own, or to share with anyone besides Ellen and Jo. So Dean let him go on his painting spree, their bedroom egg-shell white (though Dean rolled his eyes and said ‘White is white dude’), Dean’s drafting room a deep red, Ben’s room blue and like the ocean.

He almost jumps out of bed at the sound of the alarm going off. 7:00am. Dean grumbles and rolls over, reaching to slam on the snooze button. Cas turns as well, fitting nicely against the dip of Dean’s naked back. He runs his tongue over the top bone of his spine, inhales the scent of Dean’s hair. Shampooed last night, Old Spice and something fruity. “Morning,” Cas tells him pressing his hips against Dean’s ass.

“Five more minutes.”

Cas chuckles softly and scoots closer, slipping his hand over Dean’s hip, skirts his fingers along his stomach, then runs a nail over the line of his boxer-shorts.

“Dude, not fair,” Dean says, stretching.

Cas outlines the shape of Dean’s cock through the thin cotton material. “Don’t start soemthin’ you can’t finish.”

“Wake up!” Ben yells, coming down the hall. He opens the door and flies into the room and jumps on the bed. “Wake up!”

Cas retracts and they separate. Ben sits on his knees bouncing. “First day of school!”

Dean sits up and stares at his bouncing son. “You don’t even have to be there until eight.”

“Gotta get ready, Daddy.” He smiles wide.

“You sure you wanna go?” Dean runs a hand through his hair. “We can push it off-”

“No!” Ben shakes his head with fear. “No! I wanna go now.”

Ben had been excited all summer to start pre-school. He practiced with Sam on his reading and writing, asked to paint at the same time Cas did, standing out with him on the back porch. Dean is reluctant. Sending his only child off for school. Of course it’s only for four hours a day, Monday through Thursday and Cas tries to tell Dean it won’t be that bad. He works during the day anyway.

Castiel sits up and leans against the head-board, and Ben focuses his attention on him. “Cat, tell Daddy. We talked about this.” He looks at Dean with stern eyes, arms folded, bottom lip poking out.”

“Ouch, little dude, okay you win. Go pick out your clothes and I’ll start breakfast.”

Ben squeals and jumps off the bed, heading down the hall at a speed that puts the Road Runner to shame.

“You’re the only one that doesn’t want him to go,” Cas points out as he slips out of bed. He sleeps in flimsy pajama pants, loose fitting and checkered blue. He pulls on a white tee, ruffling his hair even more out of place.

Dean swings his legs from under the sheets and reaches down to pull on his jeans. “He’s only three,” Dean sighs.

“And that’s when you start pre-school.” He kisses Dean on the forehead before going down stairs.

Breakfast is eggs and bacon that Ben scarfs down and a glass of milk. Cas pours himself some coffee, no sugar, and swallows a handful of pills. Pills that he will take every day for the rest of his life, to make sure his body doesn’t one day reject the heart. He hopes everyday that he is one of the sixty percent that lives past ten years. If he went first, he doesn’t think Dean could handle it.

“Smaller bites, dude,” Dean instructs to Ben.

After breakfast, Dean takes Ben to get dressed, brush his teeth and hair, double check that the bookbag is properly packed with supplies. Cas changes, jeans and one of Dean’s rock t-shirts. It’s loose on him, the collar sags a bit in the front. Dean comes in to find a clean shirt.

“I don’t know where he gets this excitement about school from.”

Cas shrugs.

Dean carries Ben down the stairs and the stop at a framed photo of Lisa on the wall. “Say goodbye to Mom.”

“Bye, Mommy,” Ben says and touches her cheek with a finger.

Dean doesn’t want Ben to forget, he wants his son to know his mother a bit. So there’s talk about her, pictures up. Cas isn’t bothered, but still feels guilty that he is in her place now.

“You’re coming too, right Cat?” Ben tugs on his jeans.

“Of course.”

Castiel loads Ben into the back of the car.

At St. Matthew’s Church, Dean parks near the curb, along with a line of other cars, SUVs, mini-vans. Ben is bouncing in the back seat, trying to peer over the window. He kicks his feet. “Hurry up, Daddy, I’m gonna be late!”

“All right, all right.”

Ben drags Dean and Cas by their hands into the building, a swarm of children and parents around them. They walk down a narrow hall to the back of the church to room 42B, with Ms. Jones. They had spoken with her at the end of the summer when Ben was registered.

Outside the door, they all stop and Ben’s grip becomes tight.

“You ready?” Dean asks.

Ben hesitates, looking at Dean, then looking at Cas. He glances into the room full of kids, some his age, some a little older, sticking their packs into cubbies, taking off their shoes and setting them neatly on a rack.

“I dunno,” he says. “Maybe you’re right, Daddy.”

“Aw, I don’t think so. This place looks pretty fun. I see some puzzles and cars in the back.”

Ms. Jones comes to the door. She’s younger than Dean, pretty. Blonde hair and blue eyes, a warm and welcoming smile. “Hey there!” And cheerful. “I’m Ms. Jones. Are you Ben?”

He nods.

“Who is this with you?”

“My daddy.” Ben swings Dean’s hand. “And my Cat.”

“Cas,” Dean corrects for the teacher. Ben has no trouble with S’s anymore, but the nickname Cat has stuck.

Ms. Jones nods, but keeps her focus on Ben. “Do you want to come back and make some friends? We’re going to have finger painting before snack time.”

Ben’s face lights up and he tugs on Cas’ shirt. “Cat paints! We paint every day together.” He releases Dean’s hand and takes a hold of Ms. Jones. “Bye Daddy! Bye Cat!” And they are soon forgotten in the swirl of children and promise of painting. Dean watches a second, with a longing gaze.

“Let’s go, big guy,” Cas says, wrapping an arm around Dean’s shoulder.

They sit in the car for a while, after the SUVs and mini-vans leave, after the front doors swing shut. Dean grips tight to the steering wheel. Cas looks out the windows, looks at Dean. “He’s going to be fine. He probably won’t want to leave when he pick him up.”

“Oh I know.” He loosens the grip. “I just…wish that maybe Lisa coulda been here for this.”

Dean is wary to talk about Lisa in front of Cas, but Cas doesn’t mind, doesn’t care. He’s going to love her forever, she’s the mother of his child, but he loves Cas too.

Cas put a hand on Dean’s thigh and gives it a nice squeeze. “Come on, I’ll finish what I started this morning.”

~

The afternoon drags slow. Sex and then a shower, a snack and Dean goes to the drafting room. A small project, a family wants to an addition to their single level house. Dean spreads out the blue prints and starts to sketch out the outside will work. Cas is off painting.

This new house still has creaks and moans about it. Downstairs, it sounds like someone is moving upstairs, though Ben is gone, and Cas is out back with his easel and paints. This little house was perfect for them. Cozy, Cas calls it. Cramped is what Sam says, but Sam is a giant so his opinion doesn’t matter.

The backyard is bigger than the old house and there is an old fashioned cellar around back.

After a while of sketching, Dean starts to see everything in lines and pencil lead. He leans back in the chair and rubs his eyes, pops his spine. Cas comes into the house, carrying an easel. He enters the drafting room, and leans it against the bookshelf.

The Impala, black shining and a moonlit sky as a background. Dean grins. “Thanks.”

“It’s not for you,” Cas says. “Thought Ben would like it.”

“Uh huh.”

Dean stands and crosses the small space of the room, pushes Cas gently against the book shelf. Cas is all angles and slopes, sharp proportions like his prints. He kisses his mouth, then down his neck, then to the incision scar, which is almost gone away. Cas is still squirmy about it, when Dean touches it, runs his tongue along the football patterned marks.

Cas sighs and sticks his fingers in the loops of Dean’s jeans. “You want lunch?”

“Yeah.”

But they don’t move. It’s too perfect, too much and Dean thinks all of it is going to disintegrate. Be snatched away in a violent crash, just like before. He presses his forehead to Cas’ and makes their body flush. Cas grabs his hips, and Dean places his hands against Cas’ face, his neck, and feels the gentle and steady pulse of the strong beating heart.

end.