Fic: An Unconventional Kind of Place (1/?)
PG
2,206 words
Dean/Castiel AU. Dean runs a day care center for human and angel kids, the first of its kind. Castiel is a parent.
Thanks to C. for her invaluable knowledge of day care, and for typing a great deal of this up in short notice. ♥
An Unconventional Kind of Place
1.
On the first day the center opens Dean is convinced he's bitten off more than he can chew.
The angel kids don't sleep, he'd known that, but what he hadn't planned for was how much they revelled in trying to wake up the human kids at naptime. Even Uriel, Dean's reluctant partner in this project, hadn't foreseen that. They can't concentrate, Uriel complains, but Dean's pretty sure it's more like the angel kids don't want to concentrate. Throwing lumps of play-doh and bunched up paper would have been more exciting for Dean too when he was a kid. Way more fun than being commanded by Uriel to sit still and focus.
Dean thinks teaching five year-olds meditation is a shitty idea, but Uriel says it's what angel kids do, so Dean lets it go and watches as the young angels completely fail to grasp the concept of concentration.
That first day dispels any preconceived notions Dean ever had that angel kids were, well, angelic.
From what Dean can tell they're not that different from humans in how they test the restraints put on them. They get up to mischief if you look away for five freaking minutes, and take great, great pleasure in making a mess of everything and anything they can get their hands on. At least, that's how Dean feels after a full day of craziness and mayhem, because angel kids have disturbing levels of energy. They have cavernous reserves of unlimited bounciness and curiosity and, okay, maybe it's kind of cute, but Jesus Christ Dean hopes this is first day excitement and not a prelude to how the rest of his life is going to go.
In all his years working in day care, Dean's never been so exhausted. By the time five o'clock rolls around Dean's beginning to think he should've hired more staff. It's not that easy though. Getting Uriel was hard enough, most angels not even seeing the point of talking to humans let alone working with them. Humans were mostly just too scared of the angels. They were powerful and weird and fifteen years hasn't been enough time for people to get used to them hanging around Earth. They just remember the War, and the terrible things they could do, and forget that the angels were their allies. Were still their allies.
Dean's kind of shell-shocked that he actually did it. After four years of planning and working and fighting for this, finding parents that would actually agree to send their kids to a day care with angels, and angels not so damned superior that they would deign to send their kids to Earth to be looked after he actually, somehow, pulled it off. His own school, the first of its kind, and no one was maimed or magiced away or broke anything so he's calling it a win.
Sure he's exhausted, but it's pretty awesome too.
At the end of the day Dean talks to all the parents, tells them that their kids had behaved well, they hadn't cause too much trouble, no, and mostly it was true. Balthazar's kid, and Dean didn't want to label them a brat but it was damned tempting, was really the only one Dean had had some trouble with. Uriel had to have words with the kid and that was a frightening prospect even for Dean. Since he'd met the kid at reception day though Dean had known they were going to be a handful.
"She's easily won over with paper. She adores paper. 'Death to trees!', she says. Not very angelic." Balthazar laughs as they watch the angel in question chase a human boy, Jo's boy, clear across the yard and back.
It's interesting, Dean thinks, how Balthazar refers to the kid as a girl. From what Dean has learned angels don't actually have gender, or at least not as humans understand it. All Uriel will ever say on the matter is, "the pronouns don't translate." So Dean's taking to calling them 'kids' and using their names all the time because he refuses to call any child 'it'.
Balthazar's kid doesn't look like a girl, with short, messy brown hair and jeans covered in mud and grass stains, but it's what Balthazar uses so Dean's going to go with it. He's been doing that a lot lately.
The kid can't fly yet but she's flapping her messy bottle-blue wings like she's trying to anyway. They look like as much a hindrance as a help as she runs.
Beside him, Balthazar calls out, "El," which seems to be the nickname for over half of the angel kids and is going to get confusing fast. "Stop chasing that poor boy and come say hi to me!"
Even by angel standards Balthazar is a weird one. He's one hell of a lot more casual and carefree than any other angel Dean's ever met. Like his kid, he also seems to take great pleasure in being contradictory about everything.
Dean watches as the angel, Camael, grins. It's a smile that's matched exactly by her dad as she comes running, shouting all the way in that weird language of theirs. Balthazar squats down to meet her and she reaches us and grabs at his face, knocking their foreheads together in the least graceful and most violent version of the angel way of greeting each other he's ever seen. The both of them just laugh, and it's clear how much Balthazar cares about his kid. To Dean, that means the guy can't be all that bad.
After that, Dean sees off a couple more kids and their parents until there's just his own son, John, and Castiel's kid, Liwet, left in the yard. They're playing some kind of tag game that doesn't appear to have any rules, but they're both giggling and happy. Dean's glad to see it because John hasn't laughed much since his mother died. That had been two years ago but Dean likes to think things are getting better.
Liwet is a good kid. He likes beetles and spiders and worms maybe a little too much, their Father's creatures, he protested the five times Dean found living animals in the kid's hands and pockets. He's polite though, and kind way beyond his years. Dean has taken to calling him Lee, because it's shorter and less weird sounding and the kid had revelled in the new name, telling all the other kids to call him by it. Only Uriel refuses, but then he still will not call Dean anything other than 'Dean Winchester' no matter how many times Dean tries to explain human names. He's suspicious that Uriel keeps doing it just to piss him off.
Lee had told Dean he was a boy because his dad was, which Dean could get because Lee is one hell of a lot like his father.
Dean watches Castiel watch the kids playing with a thoughtful expression on his face and Dean wonders what goes on in that angel brain of his. He's too scared to wonder what someone like Uriel thinks of when he's not terrorising kids, but Castiel is always so closed off it's impossible to even guess. The guy's so serene, despite what he does for a living. What he does for a calling, the angels would say.
Dean thinks they've got a lot in common. They both fought in the War and both lost loved ones to it. To the demons. It's true there aren't many, angel or human, that didn't, but both of them have been to Hell and come back alive and there aren't many who can say that. Both of them, too, have been left alone with sons who can't quite believe their moms aren't ever coming back.
If there's one thing Dean's good at it's reading people, and he can see the loss in Castiel's kid as plainly as he sees it everyday in his own. He sees it in the way they always look up, hopeful, when anyone approaches, and then the look of sad realization when it's not their mom. It sucks, and so far Dean hasn't found a way to make it better. He wonders if Castiel has. It feels weird to ask though. Dean barely knows the guy, and what the hell does he know about how angels deal with shit anyway?
Castiel's kid has been nothing but friendly to John, and to his other classmates, and that's good enough for Dean.
"They've been playing together all day," Dean tells Castiel, coming to stand beside him. John and Lee are still chasing each other all over the yard and Dean has no freaking clue where they get the energy.
"They seem happy," Castiel says. "Their first day looks to have been a success."
The angel turns to Dean, his expression serious. "I'm glad for it. You have worked hard."
Dean feels unaccountably embarrassed. Castiel's eyes are freakily intense, his attention squarely on Dean and it's kind of intimidating.
"None of it would mean anything without you guys," Dean shrugs. It's not like he could ever have opened this place without support from the parents, both angel and human, or without his hotshot lawyer brother, or even without Uriel. Uriel and his relentless and frightening way of getting things done when no one else can.
"I believe no one else would have had the tenacity to see this through."
Castiel turns away, back to watching the kids, and Dean finds himself half relieved and half disappointed.
"It is a great achievement, Mr. Winchester."
"Dean," Dean says. "Call me Dean."
"Dean," Castiel repeats, and the way he says it is like he's tasting the name, trying it out.
When Castiel turns to face Dean this time Dean thinks he might even be smiling. It's not much of one, but it looks good on Castiel.
It doesn't occur to Dean how long they stand there just staring at each other until he hears Lee calling out to them urgently. He can't understand what he's saying but he gets the tone and looking to the kids Dean can see immediately what's wrong.
John is sitting on the ground beside Lee, prodding at his knee. Even from here Dean can see blood trailing down his leg, but John isn't crying or looking anything but vaguely fascinated by the blood so Dean guesses whatever happened can't have been serious.
Lee though looks distraught and he's looking at Castiel pleadingly and babbling in angel so fast Dean wonders if even Castiel can understand him.
Dean's really damned proud when John looks up from his knees to look at Lee and tries to assure him, "It doesn't hurt."
It doesn't make Lee stop crying but it does make him less panicked and by the time Dean and Castiel make it to the kids, John is patting Lee on the shoulder, saying, "It's okay. It's cool."
As Dean expected it's just a grazed knee and John tells him he tripped over his shoelaces. Looking at John's feet Dean can see the laces are untied, hanging loose and frayed. John looks sheepish and Dean knows they're going to be going over how to tie laces a few times again tonight. Dean tuts and finds a tissue stuffed into his jacket pocket which he uses to press against the scrapes. It'll need cleaning out, maybe a band aid, but John is more concerned with watching Lee than with his torn up knee.
Beside Lee, Castiel is crouched down too, listening to whatever the kid is saying. Even if he doesn't get the words, Dean can hear the regret and guilt in his voice. His black-grey wings are pulled in close against his back. It makes Dean wonder what colour Castiel's wings are.
Laying a hand gently on Lee's head Castiel replies in slow, gentle words that sound comforting, warm, even to Dean. It's rare to hear the angel language spoken this softly. From the War he remembers the harsh, clipped tones of orders and the piercing sounds of battle cries. The rest of it, what he heard, he tries to forget. This is a world away from that, spoken in a way he's never heard before, and Dean thinks it sounds cool.
Then, in English, Castiel says, "Now tell your friend why you are upset. I think he's worried about you."
John is, too, glancing at his dad like he should know what to do.
"I can't heal you," Lee admits, rubbing his yes. "I don't know how yet."
John nods and tells him, "That's okay. Human kids can't heal anyone either." Then he leans forward and pulls Lee into a close hug. Dean is pleased to see that John is careful to avoid touching Lee's wings. At least he knows some of the stuff he tells the kid actually gets taken in.
Castiel watches them with a bemused look on his face, and Dean's gotta admit, he's never known John to become fast friends with anyone so quickly. Even Lee looks surprised but he hugs John back, and right then Dean is certain that all the hard work, all the fighting to get this place open, it was all totally worth it.
Part 2
2,206 words
Dean/Castiel AU. Dean runs a day care center for human and angel kids, the first of its kind. Castiel is a parent.
Thanks to C. for her invaluable knowledge of day care, and for typing a great deal of this up in short notice. ♥
An Unconventional Kind of Place
1.
On the first day the center opens Dean is convinced he's bitten off more than he can chew.
The angel kids don't sleep, he'd known that, but what he hadn't planned for was how much they revelled in trying to wake up the human kids at naptime. Even Uriel, Dean's reluctant partner in this project, hadn't foreseen that. They can't concentrate, Uriel complains, but Dean's pretty sure it's more like the angel kids don't want to concentrate. Throwing lumps of play-doh and bunched up paper would have been more exciting for Dean too when he was a kid. Way more fun than being commanded by Uriel to sit still and focus.
Dean thinks teaching five year-olds meditation is a shitty idea, but Uriel says it's what angel kids do, so Dean lets it go and watches as the young angels completely fail to grasp the concept of concentration.
That first day dispels any preconceived notions Dean ever had that angel kids were, well, angelic.
From what Dean can tell they're not that different from humans in how they test the restraints put on them. They get up to mischief if you look away for five freaking minutes, and take great, great pleasure in making a mess of everything and anything they can get their hands on. At least, that's how Dean feels after a full day of craziness and mayhem, because angel kids have disturbing levels of energy. They have cavernous reserves of unlimited bounciness and curiosity and, okay, maybe it's kind of cute, but Jesus Christ Dean hopes this is first day excitement and not a prelude to how the rest of his life is going to go.
In all his years working in day care, Dean's never been so exhausted. By the time five o'clock rolls around Dean's beginning to think he should've hired more staff. It's not that easy though. Getting Uriel was hard enough, most angels not even seeing the point of talking to humans let alone working with them. Humans were mostly just too scared of the angels. They were powerful and weird and fifteen years hasn't been enough time for people to get used to them hanging around Earth. They just remember the War, and the terrible things they could do, and forget that the angels were their allies. Were still their allies.
Dean's kind of shell-shocked that he actually did it. After four years of planning and working and fighting for this, finding parents that would actually agree to send their kids to a day care with angels, and angels not so damned superior that they would deign to send their kids to Earth to be looked after he actually, somehow, pulled it off. His own school, the first of its kind, and no one was maimed or magiced away or broke anything so he's calling it a win.
Sure he's exhausted, but it's pretty awesome too.
At the end of the day Dean talks to all the parents, tells them that their kids had behaved well, they hadn't cause too much trouble, no, and mostly it was true. Balthazar's kid, and Dean didn't want to label them a brat but it was damned tempting, was really the only one Dean had had some trouble with. Uriel had to have words with the kid and that was a frightening prospect even for Dean. Since he'd met the kid at reception day though Dean had known they were going to be a handful.
"She's easily won over with paper. She adores paper. 'Death to trees!', she says. Not very angelic." Balthazar laughs as they watch the angel in question chase a human boy, Jo's boy, clear across the yard and back.
It's interesting, Dean thinks, how Balthazar refers to the kid as a girl. From what Dean has learned angels don't actually have gender, or at least not as humans understand it. All Uriel will ever say on the matter is, "the pronouns don't translate." So Dean's taking to calling them 'kids' and using their names all the time because he refuses to call any child 'it'.
Balthazar's kid doesn't look like a girl, with short, messy brown hair and jeans covered in mud and grass stains, but it's what Balthazar uses so Dean's going to go with it. He's been doing that a lot lately.
The kid can't fly yet but she's flapping her messy bottle-blue wings like she's trying to anyway. They look like as much a hindrance as a help as she runs.
Beside him, Balthazar calls out, "El," which seems to be the nickname for over half of the angel kids and is going to get confusing fast. "Stop chasing that poor boy and come say hi to me!"
Even by angel standards Balthazar is a weird one. He's one hell of a lot more casual and carefree than any other angel Dean's ever met. Like his kid, he also seems to take great pleasure in being contradictory about everything.
Dean watches as the angel, Camael, grins. It's a smile that's matched exactly by her dad as she comes running, shouting all the way in that weird language of theirs. Balthazar squats down to meet her and she reaches us and grabs at his face, knocking their foreheads together in the least graceful and most violent version of the angel way of greeting each other he's ever seen. The both of them just laugh, and it's clear how much Balthazar cares about his kid. To Dean, that means the guy can't be all that bad.
After that, Dean sees off a couple more kids and their parents until there's just his own son, John, and Castiel's kid, Liwet, left in the yard. They're playing some kind of tag game that doesn't appear to have any rules, but they're both giggling and happy. Dean's glad to see it because John hasn't laughed much since his mother died. That had been two years ago but Dean likes to think things are getting better.
Liwet is a good kid. He likes beetles and spiders and worms maybe a little too much, their Father's creatures, he protested the five times Dean found living animals in the kid's hands and pockets. He's polite though, and kind way beyond his years. Dean has taken to calling him Lee, because it's shorter and less weird sounding and the kid had revelled in the new name, telling all the other kids to call him by it. Only Uriel refuses, but then he still will not call Dean anything other than 'Dean Winchester' no matter how many times Dean tries to explain human names. He's suspicious that Uriel keeps doing it just to piss him off.
Lee had told Dean he was a boy because his dad was, which Dean could get because Lee is one hell of a lot like his father.
Dean watches Castiel watch the kids playing with a thoughtful expression on his face and Dean wonders what goes on in that angel brain of his. He's too scared to wonder what someone like Uriel thinks of when he's not terrorising kids, but Castiel is always so closed off it's impossible to even guess. The guy's so serene, despite what he does for a living. What he does for a calling, the angels would say.
Dean thinks they've got a lot in common. They both fought in the War and both lost loved ones to it. To the demons. It's true there aren't many, angel or human, that didn't, but both of them have been to Hell and come back alive and there aren't many who can say that. Both of them, too, have been left alone with sons who can't quite believe their moms aren't ever coming back.
If there's one thing Dean's good at it's reading people, and he can see the loss in Castiel's kid as plainly as he sees it everyday in his own. He sees it in the way they always look up, hopeful, when anyone approaches, and then the look of sad realization when it's not their mom. It sucks, and so far Dean hasn't found a way to make it better. He wonders if Castiel has. It feels weird to ask though. Dean barely knows the guy, and what the hell does he know about how angels deal with shit anyway?
Castiel's kid has been nothing but friendly to John, and to his other classmates, and that's good enough for Dean.
"They've been playing together all day," Dean tells Castiel, coming to stand beside him. John and Lee are still chasing each other all over the yard and Dean has no freaking clue where they get the energy.
"They seem happy," Castiel says. "Their first day looks to have been a success."
The angel turns to Dean, his expression serious. "I'm glad for it. You have worked hard."
Dean feels unaccountably embarrassed. Castiel's eyes are freakily intense, his attention squarely on Dean and it's kind of intimidating.
"None of it would mean anything without you guys," Dean shrugs. It's not like he could ever have opened this place without support from the parents, both angel and human, or without his hotshot lawyer brother, or even without Uriel. Uriel and his relentless and frightening way of getting things done when no one else can.
"I believe no one else would have had the tenacity to see this through."
Castiel turns away, back to watching the kids, and Dean finds himself half relieved and half disappointed.
"It is a great achievement, Mr. Winchester."
"Dean," Dean says. "Call me Dean."
"Dean," Castiel repeats, and the way he says it is like he's tasting the name, trying it out.
When Castiel turns to face Dean this time Dean thinks he might even be smiling. It's not much of one, but it looks good on Castiel.
It doesn't occur to Dean how long they stand there just staring at each other until he hears Lee calling out to them urgently. He can't understand what he's saying but he gets the tone and looking to the kids Dean can see immediately what's wrong.
John is sitting on the ground beside Lee, prodding at his knee. Even from here Dean can see blood trailing down his leg, but John isn't crying or looking anything but vaguely fascinated by the blood so Dean guesses whatever happened can't have been serious.
Lee though looks distraught and he's looking at Castiel pleadingly and babbling in angel so fast Dean wonders if even Castiel can understand him.
Dean's really damned proud when John looks up from his knees to look at Lee and tries to assure him, "It doesn't hurt."
It doesn't make Lee stop crying but it does make him less panicked and by the time Dean and Castiel make it to the kids, John is patting Lee on the shoulder, saying, "It's okay. It's cool."
As Dean expected it's just a grazed knee and John tells him he tripped over his shoelaces. Looking at John's feet Dean can see the laces are untied, hanging loose and frayed. John looks sheepish and Dean knows they're going to be going over how to tie laces a few times again tonight. Dean tuts and finds a tissue stuffed into his jacket pocket which he uses to press against the scrapes. It'll need cleaning out, maybe a band aid, but John is more concerned with watching Lee than with his torn up knee.
Beside Lee, Castiel is crouched down too, listening to whatever the kid is saying. Even if he doesn't get the words, Dean can hear the regret and guilt in his voice. His black-grey wings are pulled in close against his back. It makes Dean wonder what colour Castiel's wings are.
Laying a hand gently on Lee's head Castiel replies in slow, gentle words that sound comforting, warm, even to Dean. It's rare to hear the angel language spoken this softly. From the War he remembers the harsh, clipped tones of orders and the piercing sounds of battle cries. The rest of it, what he heard, he tries to forget. This is a world away from that, spoken in a way he's never heard before, and Dean thinks it sounds cool.
Then, in English, Castiel says, "Now tell your friend why you are upset. I think he's worried about you."
John is, too, glancing at his dad like he should know what to do.
"I can't heal you," Lee admits, rubbing his yes. "I don't know how yet."
John nods and tells him, "That's okay. Human kids can't heal anyone either." Then he leans forward and pulls Lee into a close hug. Dean is pleased to see that John is careful to avoid touching Lee's wings. At least he knows some of the stuff he tells the kid actually gets taken in.
Castiel watches them with a bemused look on his face, and Dean's gotta admit, he's never known John to become fast friends with anyone so quickly. Even Lee looks surprised but he hugs John back, and right then Dean is certain that all the hard work, all the fighting to get this place open, it was all totally worth it.
Part 2