gabe6
Title: Raising Hell (Or Not) 6/?
Author: vivhasarifle
Rating: R, for some smut.
Genre and/or Pairing: slash, Cas/Dean, AU, kid!fic, fluff, smut.
Characters: Dean, Castiel, Sam, Gabriel(ish), Bobby.
Spoilers: AR because of 5x19, and spoilers for the episode. 3x11. 5x8.
Warnings: Bizarre plot? Swearing. Pretty explicit man-love.
Word Count: 2530
Summary: Gabriel has a bad dream. This chapter takes place four years into the future.
Notes: I’ve always wanted to write kid!fic, but I’ve never quite been brave enough. So hopefully, people will actually like this. I had intended to write a traditional Gabe!fic but…best laid plans and all that.
Four years later…
Gabriel padded quietly down the hall towards his parents’ bedroom. He didn’t know what time it was, but he knew it had to be very late because his parents were in bed and they stayed up for a long time after him. He took a deep breath and peered around his parents door, before creeping quietly over to his Papa’s side of the bed. Papa didn’t sleep as much as Daddy did, and Gabriel had learned that Papa didn’t mind being disturbed at night, but Daddy was another story.
“What is it Gabriel?” he heard his Papa’s voice, and taking this as his cue, Gabriel ran the last few feet to the bed and threw himself into his Papa’s arms, sobbing.
“Bad dream!” He choked out, between sobs.
“Shhh,” his Papa’s heavy hand smoothed the back of his head. “It’s okay, tell me about it.”
“There was a bad, bad man!” Gabriel buried his head further into the warm body holding his. “And he hurted Daddy, lots.”
“Don’t worry Gabriel,” his Papa said, soothingly. “He isn’t real.”
“He is!” the small boy cried, gripping his father even harder, “He killed Daddy, lots, over and over, and Uncle Sammy tried to stop him ‘cause he was eating pancakes, but -”
“Gabriel,” his Papa interrupted, gently. “The bad man isn’t real. It was just a nightmare. Daddy’s fine, see?”
Gabriel looked over and saw his other father roll over and snore loudly. He giggled.
“Okay?” His father’s blue eyes looked down at him.
Gabriel nodded. “Yes,” he said quietly. “Sleep with you?”
Castiel smiled and lifted the boy into the center of the bed. “Of course. But, just a warning, your daddy steals the covers.”
“I’ll steal em’ back!” the boy declared, groggily, before drifting back to sleep.
Castiel watched him for a long time, a frown on his face.
Dean woke the next morning, surprised to find a small pair of feet digging into the base of his back. He grunted and turned around, smiling at the small boy curled up beside him. Gabriel’s blonde hair was getting long; it fell over his eyes, and the longest strand was almost touching the tip of his nose. The little boy had his thumb in his mouth, and was sucking away contentedly. Dean brushed his son’s bangs away from his face and planted a small kiss on his forehead, before getting up and tip-toeing out of the room.
Castiel was waiting for him in the kitchen with a mug of coffee, along with bacon and eggs. Dean waltzed over to him lazily and planted a loud, smacking kiss on his lips.
“Morning, angel,” he said, before grabbing the cup of coffee and sitting down to his breakfast. “Where’s Sam?” he asked, between mouthfuls.
“I believe he stayed at Laura’s last night,” Castiel replied, and Dean arched an eyebrow.
“Looks like they’re getting pretty serious.”
Castiel nodded. “Indeed.” He sat down opposite Dean and fixed him with hard stare. “Dean,” he said gruffly, “We need to talk.”
“Whassup?” Dean said, through a mouthful of eggs.
“Gabriel has been having nightmares.”
Dean swallowed his food. “Yeah, I know, but that’s normal, Cas. Kids have nightmares sometimes.”
“Not these kind,” Castiel said, before biting his lip and continuing, “I believe that Gabriel is having dreams of his former life.”
Dean’s fork paused halfway to his mouth. “He’s having dreams about being an angel?”
“And a trickster,” Cas supplied. “Last night he told me he dreamed of a ‘bad man’ who killed you repeatedly while Sam tried to stop him.”
Dean put his fork down. “Holy shit.”
“He also asked me the other day where his brothers were. I asked him what he meant, and he told me he had dreams about his brothers, and that they were mean, but beautiful, and they had wings.” Castiel took Dean’s hand. “Dean, I am worried.”
Dean nodded, slowly. “Yeah, Cas, me too. But, what can we do? Short of you mojo-ing every single dream he has out of his head, we don’t really have any options.”
Cas sighed. “I am aware. I think the best thing we can do is keep an eye on the situation, and try to help, if we can.”
Dean squeezed Castiel’s hand. “Yeah, yeah I guess that’s all we can do.”
“Daddy?” A small voice interrupted them, “Papa?”
Dean smiled and held out his arms, and small boy giggled gleefully and scrambled into Dean’s lap.
“Hey buddy,” Dean said, “How long you been standing there?”
“Just came down,” the boy replied, eating a piece of bacon from Dean’s plate.
“Hey!” Dean said, “Don’t eat my bacon, or I’ll have to eat you!” He grabbed the offending hand and pretending to chow down on the fingers, making Gabriel squeal.
“No Daddy, stop!”
“Fine,” Dean ruffled the boy’s hair affectionately. “But you eat your own breakfast from now on.”
Castiel put another plate of food on the table and Gabriel shifted into the seat next to Dean;s, pulling the plate towards him.
“I am going to go out for some time today,” Castiel announced. “Dean, do you have work, or are you available to look after Gabriel?”
“It’s my day off,” Dean replied. “Where are you going?”
“To see…the people upstairs,” Castiel said, shooting a glance Gabriel’s way, “To see if they know anything of our predicament.”
Dean nodded. “Good idea. You okay with it being just you and me today, Gabe?”
The little boy nodded enthusiastically, before glaring at Castiel, “But you’re coming back?”
Castiel knelt down and kissed the boy’s head. “By tonight. I will always come back to you, Gabriel.”
“Good,” Gabriel said, happily. “Where’s Uncle Sammy?”
Dean snorted. “Getting lai…late back home.” He amended, catching Castiel’s eye. Castiel was very big on what was, and was not appropriate for Gabriel’s ears.
“From where?” Wide, innocent eyes met Castiel’s and the angel inhaled before answering, carefully.
“He is…at a sleepover.”
Gabriel giggled. “That’s silly, he’s old.”
Castiel nodded. “Well, your Uncle Sam is a rather silly person.”
“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “So, what do you wanna do today, buddy?”
Gabriel tilted his head for a moment, and looked remarkably like Castiel, before replying to Dean.
“Candy store.”
“We went to the candy store last week, where do you want to go that won’t rot your teeth out of your head?” Dean got up to put his plate in the sink, before turning around to see his son deep in thought.
“Ice cream,” Gabriel said, finally.
They ended up compromising. After Castiel left Dean took Gabriel to say hello to Bobby, promising Gabriel ice cream after the visit. Even as a human, Gabriel had a sweet tooth to the extreme. The first time Dean had taken him out for ice cream the boy had delightedly ordered a huge banana split, and Dean (naively) assumed that he would not be able to finish it. Much to his chagrin, the boy diligently stuffed his face until he threw up on Dean’s shoes. They had never lived it down. Dean swore that the people that owned the ice-cream parlor still ducked for cover when he and Gabriel approached, but Dean had learned his lesson since the banana split fiasco. One cone, with one scoop of ice cream. Banana splits and sundaes? Never again.
Dean glanced in his rear-view mirror into the backseat, and saw Gabriel nodding his head along to the music. Dean smiled. Not surprisingly, with Dean as a father, Gabriel had grown up with remarkably good taste in music. Dean was currently playing some old school Johnny Cash (he had promised Cas that he wouldn’t play Gabriel anything too risqué, or with too much cursing, until he was older, which limited their choices somewhat) but it still tickled him a little when he heard the four year old singing along to ‘Folsom Prison Blues’.
“Daddy,” the little boy piped up.
“Yeah, kid?”
“Play ‘Ring Of Fire,” Gabriel bounced up and down in his seat and Dean sighed, not looking forward to what the sugary ice cream would do to Gabriel’s excess energy.
“Sure, kid,” Dean replied, fast forwarding his tape until it reached said song.
“That‘s the only way to trap the bad man,” Gabriel said, suddenly.
Dean narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“The bad man from my dreams. I saw you and Papa and Uncle Sammy get him. You put him in a big ring of fire and he couldn’t move.” Gabriel nodded his head. “You were very clever. Especially after he hurted Papa.”
“Hurt,” Dean replied, automatically, “It’s hurt. And when did you see this?”
The little boy shrugged. “I dream of him a lot,” he said, and shivered. “He scares me.”
“Well don’t you worry,” Dean replied, sighing, “He’s not real, and you know that even if he was, me and your Papa and your Uncle wouldn’t let anything in this world get you.”
Gabriel nodded. “Don’t worry Daddy, I know. I love you.”
“Love you too, Gabe.”
The boy smiled and turned to gaze out of the window. “We’re almost at Grandpa’s!” he said, gleefully.
“That’s right, champ.” Dean smiled. Gabriel had been calling Bobby ‘grandpa’ almost as soon as he could talk, even before he managed Sam’s name properly (for a couple of years Sam had been ‘Unnysammy’) and as much as Bobby grimaced and huffed, Dean could tell he was fond of the kid. Heck, he had a new gift for him every time they went over. Most of the time Dean was fine with them, but when Bobby had tried to hand a three year old a hunting knife Dean had put his foot down. Gabriel had cried for days, until eventually Dean relinquished and said Gabriel could have it, but Dean was going to keep a hold of it for him until he was older. Dean pulled into Bobby’s driveway and smiled at the sight of the old man waiting for them on the porch. Gabriel immediately began to pull at his car seat in impatience.
“Slow down there, buddy,” Dean said, before getting out and unbuckling the child, who flew up the stairs and into Bobby’s arms.
“Grandpa!” he cried, happily.
“Hey boy,” Bobby replied. “You been good?”
Gabriel frowned. “I’m always good,” he said, indignantly.
Bobby snorted, “Your idgit fathers may fall for that act but you ain’t foolin’ anyone here.”
“I am good!” Gabriel stomped his foot.
“You sure?” Bobby said, his eye twinkling. “You know only good boys get gifts.”
Dean watched the little interaction with satisfaction. They had almost the same conversation every time they went to Bobby’s.
“I been soooo good, Grandpa,” the boy threw his arms around Bobby’s legs and looked up, lip trembling.
“All right then,” Bobby said, before handing over a paper bag. Dean grit his teeth and waited for his son to pull out a gun, or something equally dangerous.
“ A GIRAFFE!” Gabriel squealed, running down the steps to brandish the stuffed animal at dean. “Look Daddy, a giraffe!”
Dean smiled. “It’s very nice. Did you say thank you to Bobby?”
“Thank you Grandpa!” Gabriel yelled as he whizzed through Bobby’s door and set up shop on the kitchen floor, playing with the animal.
“Still crazy for giraffes, huh?” Bobby said, following the boy in and beckoning for Dean to follow.
“Yeah,” Dean replied, gratefully accepting a cup of coffee Bobby handed him.
“So how’s work?” Bobby poured a cup of his own.
Dean shrugged. “Same old, really.” He was still at the bar he had started in a few years back, but he was the day-shift manager now, which was nice because he had a steady income. Dean hated working for tips.
“Your angel-boy good?”
Dean nodded. “He’s fine.”
“What about your brother?”
“Been seeing a lot of this girl recently, Laura. She works at the library. Best place for a couple of girls to meet.”
Bobby chuckled. “And his job?”
Dean shrugged. “Good, stressful. But I mean, he’s a public defender, that’s bound to be a stressful line of work.”
Dean was distracted by Gabriel making wooshing sounds and waving the giraffe around.
“What are you gonna name him?” Dean inquired, and Gabrel rolled his eyes.
“Daddy, she’s a girl.”
Dean grinned. “Sorry, kid. So whatcha gonna name her?”
Gabriel paused for a second. “Cally,” he decided.
“Cally?” Dean said, “That’s a nice name.”
Gabriel nodded. “Cally is a powerful lady. She has fire in her arms.”
Dean frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I dreamed of her,” the little boy replied. “She’s very pretty.”
“Kali?” Dean asked, “Do you mean Kali?”
Gabrile nodded. “That’s what I said, Daddy.”
Bobby raised his eyebrow and looked at Dean. “Something you wanna tell me?”
Dean sighed. “You have no idea, but it’s a conversation we need to have privately,” Dean nodded towards the boy.
Bobby nodded. “I understand. But we need to have this conversation, boy. Don’t you forget it.”
Dean watched his son play, his mouth a thin line.
“I won’t.”
“What flavor do you want, Gabe?”
“Chocolate and ‘nilla.”
Dean saw the woman behind the counter visibly flinch.
“Just one, Gabe, you don’t wanna make yourself sick.”
The little boy pouted. “I want both.”
“Well, you’re getting one. So which is it? Chocolate or vanilla?”
Gabriel stomped his foot. “Both!”
“Gabriel,” Dean said, warningly, “If you don’t behave you’re not getting any.”
Gabriel’s lip trembled. “But Daddy - “
“One,” Dean hated when he had to start counting, it always made him feel like such a hard-ass.
“Please?” Gabriel wheedled.
“Two,” Dean continued, putting his wallet away. Gabriel frowned petulantly.
“Two and half-”
“Chocolate please,” Gabriel whispered.
Dean smiled and stroked Gabriel’s hair. “Good boy,” He turned back to the woman behind the counter.
“Two chocolate cones, please.” She nodded and Dean watched as she scooped the ice cream, and maybe it was just Dean’s imagination but he was sure that she went a little on the stingy side with Gabe’s portion. He thanked her anyway, thinking that at least Gabriel would still have room for dinner later, and walked his son out side of the shop. Dean had strict rules regarding ice cream and the impala, and so they sat on a bench to enjoy their cones; Dean watched in amusement and Gabriel licked a trail of ice cream that had found its way to his forearm.
“You’re getting so big,” Dean said, wistfully.
Gabriel nodded. “When I grow up, I’m gonna be even taller than Uncle Sammy!”
Dean snorted. “Now why would you want to do that? Your uncle’s a freak of nature.”
Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Daddy, you’re mean.”
Dean nudged the boy with his elbow. “Yeah, but you think it’s funny.”
Gabriel giggled and took another lick of his ice cream. “Daddy?”
“Yeah?”
“Does Papa have wings?”
Dean choked on his ice cream cone. “What?”
“Sometimes, when I dream of Papa I can see his wings. They’re beautiful, they’re all different colors, but mostly green, like a rainforest. Can you see them?”
Dean thought for a moment. They hadn’t exactly covered the oh-by-the-way-your-father’s-an-angel conversation yet.
“Your Papa is wonderful,” Dean said, finally. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he had wings.”
Author: vivhasarifle
Rating: R, for some smut.
Genre and/or Pairing: slash, Cas/Dean, AU, kid!fic, fluff, smut.
Characters: Dean, Castiel, Sam, Gabriel(ish), Bobby.
Spoilers: AR because of 5x19, and spoilers for the episode. 3x11. 5x8.
Warnings: Bizarre plot? Swearing. Pretty explicit man-love.
Word Count: 2530
Summary: Gabriel has a bad dream. This chapter takes place four years into the future.
Notes: I’ve always wanted to write kid!fic, but I’ve never quite been brave enough. So hopefully, people will actually like this. I had intended to write a traditional Gabe!fic but…best laid plans and all that.
Four years later…
Gabriel padded quietly down the hall towards his parents’ bedroom. He didn’t know what time it was, but he knew it had to be very late because his parents were in bed and they stayed up for a long time after him. He took a deep breath and peered around his parents door, before creeping quietly over to his Papa’s side of the bed. Papa didn’t sleep as much as Daddy did, and Gabriel had learned that Papa didn’t mind being disturbed at night, but Daddy was another story.
“What is it Gabriel?” he heard his Papa’s voice, and taking this as his cue, Gabriel ran the last few feet to the bed and threw himself into his Papa’s arms, sobbing.
“Bad dream!” He choked out, between sobs.
“Shhh,” his Papa’s heavy hand smoothed the back of his head. “It’s okay, tell me about it.”
“There was a bad, bad man!” Gabriel buried his head further into the warm body holding his. “And he hurted Daddy, lots.”
“Don’t worry Gabriel,” his Papa said, soothingly. “He isn’t real.”
“He is!” the small boy cried, gripping his father even harder, “He killed Daddy, lots, over and over, and Uncle Sammy tried to stop him ‘cause he was eating pancakes, but -”
“Gabriel,” his Papa interrupted, gently. “The bad man isn’t real. It was just a nightmare. Daddy’s fine, see?”
Gabriel looked over and saw his other father roll over and snore loudly. He giggled.
“Okay?” His father’s blue eyes looked down at him.
Gabriel nodded. “Yes,” he said quietly. “Sleep with you?”
Castiel smiled and lifted the boy into the center of the bed. “Of course. But, just a warning, your daddy steals the covers.”
“I’ll steal em’ back!” the boy declared, groggily, before drifting back to sleep.
Castiel watched him for a long time, a frown on his face.
Dean woke the next morning, surprised to find a small pair of feet digging into the base of his back. He grunted and turned around, smiling at the small boy curled up beside him. Gabriel’s blonde hair was getting long; it fell over his eyes, and the longest strand was almost touching the tip of his nose. The little boy had his thumb in his mouth, and was sucking away contentedly. Dean brushed his son’s bangs away from his face and planted a small kiss on his forehead, before getting up and tip-toeing out of the room.
Castiel was waiting for him in the kitchen with a mug of coffee, along with bacon and eggs. Dean waltzed over to him lazily and planted a loud, smacking kiss on his lips.
“Morning, angel,” he said, before grabbing the cup of coffee and sitting down to his breakfast. “Where’s Sam?” he asked, between mouthfuls.
“I believe he stayed at Laura’s last night,” Castiel replied, and Dean arched an eyebrow.
“Looks like they’re getting pretty serious.”
Castiel nodded. “Indeed.” He sat down opposite Dean and fixed him with hard stare. “Dean,” he said gruffly, “We need to talk.”
“Whassup?” Dean said, through a mouthful of eggs.
“Gabriel has been having nightmares.”
Dean swallowed his food. “Yeah, I know, but that’s normal, Cas. Kids have nightmares sometimes.”
“Not these kind,” Castiel said, before biting his lip and continuing, “I believe that Gabriel is having dreams of his former life.”
Dean’s fork paused halfway to his mouth. “He’s having dreams about being an angel?”
“And a trickster,” Cas supplied. “Last night he told me he dreamed of a ‘bad man’ who killed you repeatedly while Sam tried to stop him.”
Dean put his fork down. “Holy shit.”
“He also asked me the other day where his brothers were. I asked him what he meant, and he told me he had dreams about his brothers, and that they were mean, but beautiful, and they had wings.” Castiel took Dean’s hand. “Dean, I am worried.”
Dean nodded, slowly. “Yeah, Cas, me too. But, what can we do? Short of you mojo-ing every single dream he has out of his head, we don’t really have any options.”
Cas sighed. “I am aware. I think the best thing we can do is keep an eye on the situation, and try to help, if we can.”
Dean squeezed Castiel’s hand. “Yeah, yeah I guess that’s all we can do.”
“Daddy?” A small voice interrupted them, “Papa?”
Dean smiled and held out his arms, and small boy giggled gleefully and scrambled into Dean’s lap.
“Hey buddy,” Dean said, “How long you been standing there?”
“Just came down,” the boy replied, eating a piece of bacon from Dean’s plate.
“Hey!” Dean said, “Don’t eat my bacon, or I’ll have to eat you!” He grabbed the offending hand and pretending to chow down on the fingers, making Gabriel squeal.
“No Daddy, stop!”
“Fine,” Dean ruffled the boy’s hair affectionately. “But you eat your own breakfast from now on.”
Castiel put another plate of food on the table and Gabriel shifted into the seat next to Dean;s, pulling the plate towards him.
“I am going to go out for some time today,” Castiel announced. “Dean, do you have work, or are you available to look after Gabriel?”
“It’s my day off,” Dean replied. “Where are you going?”
“To see…the people upstairs,” Castiel said, shooting a glance Gabriel’s way, “To see if they know anything of our predicament.”
Dean nodded. “Good idea. You okay with it being just you and me today, Gabe?”
The little boy nodded enthusiastically, before glaring at Castiel, “But you’re coming back?”
Castiel knelt down and kissed the boy’s head. “By tonight. I will always come back to you, Gabriel.”
“Good,” Gabriel said, happily. “Where’s Uncle Sammy?”
Dean snorted. “Getting lai…late back home.” He amended, catching Castiel’s eye. Castiel was very big on what was, and was not appropriate for Gabriel’s ears.
“From where?” Wide, innocent eyes met Castiel’s and the angel inhaled before answering, carefully.
“He is…at a sleepover.”
Gabriel giggled. “That’s silly, he’s old.”
Castiel nodded. “Well, your Uncle Sam is a rather silly person.”
“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “So, what do you wanna do today, buddy?”
Gabriel tilted his head for a moment, and looked remarkably like Castiel, before replying to Dean.
“Candy store.”
“We went to the candy store last week, where do you want to go that won’t rot your teeth out of your head?” Dean got up to put his plate in the sink, before turning around to see his son deep in thought.
“Ice cream,” Gabriel said, finally.
They ended up compromising. After Castiel left Dean took Gabriel to say hello to Bobby, promising Gabriel ice cream after the visit. Even as a human, Gabriel had a sweet tooth to the extreme. The first time Dean had taken him out for ice cream the boy had delightedly ordered a huge banana split, and Dean (naively) assumed that he would not be able to finish it. Much to his chagrin, the boy diligently stuffed his face until he threw up on Dean’s shoes. They had never lived it down. Dean swore that the people that owned the ice-cream parlor still ducked for cover when he and Gabriel approached, but Dean had learned his lesson since the banana split fiasco. One cone, with one scoop of ice cream. Banana splits and sundaes? Never again.
Dean glanced in his rear-view mirror into the backseat, and saw Gabriel nodding his head along to the music. Dean smiled. Not surprisingly, with Dean as a father, Gabriel had grown up with remarkably good taste in music. Dean was currently playing some old school Johnny Cash (he had promised Cas that he wouldn’t play Gabriel anything too risqué, or with too much cursing, until he was older, which limited their choices somewhat) but it still tickled him a little when he heard the four year old singing along to ‘Folsom Prison Blues’.
“Daddy,” the little boy piped up.
“Yeah, kid?”
“Play ‘Ring Of Fire,” Gabriel bounced up and down in his seat and Dean sighed, not looking forward to what the sugary ice cream would do to Gabriel’s excess energy.
“Sure, kid,” Dean replied, fast forwarding his tape until it reached said song.
“That‘s the only way to trap the bad man,” Gabriel said, suddenly.
Dean narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“The bad man from my dreams. I saw you and Papa and Uncle Sammy get him. You put him in a big ring of fire and he couldn’t move.” Gabriel nodded his head. “You were very clever. Especially after he hurted Papa.”
“Hurt,” Dean replied, automatically, “It’s hurt. And when did you see this?”
The little boy shrugged. “I dream of him a lot,” he said, and shivered. “He scares me.”
“Well don’t you worry,” Dean replied, sighing, “He’s not real, and you know that even if he was, me and your Papa and your Uncle wouldn’t let anything in this world get you.”
Gabriel nodded. “Don’t worry Daddy, I know. I love you.”
“Love you too, Gabe.”
The boy smiled and turned to gaze out of the window. “We’re almost at Grandpa’s!” he said, gleefully.
“That’s right, champ.” Dean smiled. Gabriel had been calling Bobby ‘grandpa’ almost as soon as he could talk, even before he managed Sam’s name properly (for a couple of years Sam had been ‘Unnysammy’) and as much as Bobby grimaced and huffed, Dean could tell he was fond of the kid. Heck, he had a new gift for him every time they went over. Most of the time Dean was fine with them, but when Bobby had tried to hand a three year old a hunting knife Dean had put his foot down. Gabriel had cried for days, until eventually Dean relinquished and said Gabriel could have it, but Dean was going to keep a hold of it for him until he was older. Dean pulled into Bobby’s driveway and smiled at the sight of the old man waiting for them on the porch. Gabriel immediately began to pull at his car seat in impatience.
“Slow down there, buddy,” Dean said, before getting out and unbuckling the child, who flew up the stairs and into Bobby’s arms.
“Grandpa!” he cried, happily.
“Hey boy,” Bobby replied. “You been good?”
Gabriel frowned. “I’m always good,” he said, indignantly.
Bobby snorted, “Your idgit fathers may fall for that act but you ain’t foolin’ anyone here.”
“I am good!” Gabriel stomped his foot.
“You sure?” Bobby said, his eye twinkling. “You know only good boys get gifts.”
Dean watched the little interaction with satisfaction. They had almost the same conversation every time they went to Bobby’s.
“I been soooo good, Grandpa,” the boy threw his arms around Bobby’s legs and looked up, lip trembling.
“All right then,” Bobby said, before handing over a paper bag. Dean grit his teeth and waited for his son to pull out a gun, or something equally dangerous.
“ A GIRAFFE!” Gabriel squealed, running down the steps to brandish the stuffed animal at dean. “Look Daddy, a giraffe!”
Dean smiled. “It’s very nice. Did you say thank you to Bobby?”
“Thank you Grandpa!” Gabriel yelled as he whizzed through Bobby’s door and set up shop on the kitchen floor, playing with the animal.
“Still crazy for giraffes, huh?” Bobby said, following the boy in and beckoning for Dean to follow.
“Yeah,” Dean replied, gratefully accepting a cup of coffee Bobby handed him.
“So how’s work?” Bobby poured a cup of his own.
Dean shrugged. “Same old, really.” He was still at the bar he had started in a few years back, but he was the day-shift manager now, which was nice because he had a steady income. Dean hated working for tips.
“Your angel-boy good?”
Dean nodded. “He’s fine.”
“What about your brother?”
“Been seeing a lot of this girl recently, Laura. She works at the library. Best place for a couple of girls to meet.”
Bobby chuckled. “And his job?”
Dean shrugged. “Good, stressful. But I mean, he’s a public defender, that’s bound to be a stressful line of work.”
Dean was distracted by Gabriel making wooshing sounds and waving the giraffe around.
“What are you gonna name him?” Dean inquired, and Gabrel rolled his eyes.
“Daddy, she’s a girl.”
Dean grinned. “Sorry, kid. So whatcha gonna name her?”
Gabriel paused for a second. “Cally,” he decided.
“Cally?” Dean said, “That’s a nice name.”
Gabriel nodded. “Cally is a powerful lady. She has fire in her arms.”
Dean frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I dreamed of her,” the little boy replied. “She’s very pretty.”
“Kali?” Dean asked, “Do you mean Kali?”
Gabrile nodded. “That’s what I said, Daddy.”
Bobby raised his eyebrow and looked at Dean. “Something you wanna tell me?”
Dean sighed. “You have no idea, but it’s a conversation we need to have privately,” Dean nodded towards the boy.
Bobby nodded. “I understand. But we need to have this conversation, boy. Don’t you forget it.”
Dean watched his son play, his mouth a thin line.
“I won’t.”
“What flavor do you want, Gabe?”
“Chocolate and ‘nilla.”
Dean saw the woman behind the counter visibly flinch.
“Just one, Gabe, you don’t wanna make yourself sick.”
The little boy pouted. “I want both.”
“Well, you’re getting one. So which is it? Chocolate or vanilla?”
Gabriel stomped his foot. “Both!”
“Gabriel,” Dean said, warningly, “If you don’t behave you’re not getting any.”
Gabriel’s lip trembled. “But Daddy - “
“One,” Dean hated when he had to start counting, it always made him feel like such a hard-ass.
“Please?” Gabriel wheedled.
“Two,” Dean continued, putting his wallet away. Gabriel frowned petulantly.
“Two and half-”
“Chocolate please,” Gabriel whispered.
Dean smiled and stroked Gabriel’s hair. “Good boy,” He turned back to the woman behind the counter.
“Two chocolate cones, please.” She nodded and Dean watched as she scooped the ice cream, and maybe it was just Dean’s imagination but he was sure that she went a little on the stingy side with Gabe’s portion. He thanked her anyway, thinking that at least Gabriel would still have room for dinner later, and walked his son out side of the shop. Dean had strict rules regarding ice cream and the impala, and so they sat on a bench to enjoy their cones; Dean watched in amusement and Gabriel licked a trail of ice cream that had found its way to his forearm.
“You’re getting so big,” Dean said, wistfully.
Gabriel nodded. “When I grow up, I’m gonna be even taller than Uncle Sammy!”
Dean snorted. “Now why would you want to do that? Your uncle’s a freak of nature.”
Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Daddy, you’re mean.”
Dean nudged the boy with his elbow. “Yeah, but you think it’s funny.”
Gabriel giggled and took another lick of his ice cream. “Daddy?”
“Yeah?”
“Does Papa have wings?”
Dean choked on his ice cream cone. “What?”
“Sometimes, when I dream of Papa I can see his wings. They’re beautiful, they’re all different colors, but mostly green, like a rainforest. Can you see them?”
Dean thought for a moment. They hadn’t exactly covered the oh-by-the-way-your-father’s-an-angel conversation yet.
“Your Papa is wonderful,” Dean said, finally. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he had wings.”