An Unconventional Kind of Place (11/?)
PG
3,867 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 reading this through twice this time! :)
Again, thank you all for your comments! I love to read them all. ♥
After a long time deciding, I have finally set up a tumblr account here and I hope you'll all help me learn what I'm doing over there!
And now on to the next part!
An Unconventional Kind of Place
11.
Castiel arrives- as he does almost every day- at four o'clock on the dot. He nods when his eyes meet Dean's. Dean smiles in greeting and then they move towards one another, Cas's strides long and confident.
It's the same every afternoon Cas comes to collect Lee; he appears on the playground's perimeter in that weird angel way- a sudden presence when there was nothing before, a fleeting sound of beating wings, a light breeze of air that smells different every time. The first thing Castiel does is look for Lee. The second is that he looks to find Dean.
Over the past few months it's become a ritual, something Dean does now without thinking, and every day he's glad to see Cas. No matter how shitty the day or how much the kids have been fighting or how tired he is there's something about seeing Cas at the end of the day that just makes Dean feel that much lighter, like he can take whatever the world wants to throw at him.
Cas always greets him with "Hello, Dean," and Dean always replies, "Hey." That never changes.
They talk about the kids and about their classes, and sometimes Cas asks about some human thing he doesn't understand and sometimes Dean asks about an angel thing he doesn't get. They talk about food and gardens and annoying brothers.
Today Castiel is carrying the stuffed camel he'd told Dean about earlier. It's an ugly monstrosity with gaudy beads and bright yellow string hanging all over it, its eyes large and black in a way that reminds Dean too much of demons. The toy looks out of place held in Castiel's arms, looks comic as Cas holds onto it tightly as he strides across the yard towards Dean.
He holds it out with far more solemnity than a cheap-looking stuffed camel deserves.
"For you and the children."
"Thanks." Dean accepts the creature. For all it looks like its seams might burst open at any second it feels pretty solid, no sharp edges. He'll try pulling the eyes off later, see if it’s safe for the kids. Dean almost kind of hopes it isn't so he can keep it at home. The thing has such a sad, ugly face that Dean kind of likes it. "Who'd you get it from?"
"A Devotee," Castiel replies, which could mean anything. As far as Dean can tell angels lump together anyone who shows even a slight belief in some kind of god. Sam has always said the angels just don't get religion: that it's all one thing to them.
It begs the question what Castiel was doing for someone to give him a toy animal, but Dean is always wary of asking what Castiel has been doing, of where he's been. He knows from experience how dangerous that type of information could be. So instead Dean asks, "Was the coffee any good?"
"It wasn't." Cas grimaces and Dean laughs at the expression, pats Castiel's shoulder companionably.
"We'll find you some you like one day, man," he promises.
Castiel nods like it’s a certainty and for a long moment they watch the kids play, meeting their parents, saying their goodbyes. Sabiel's mother- a tall, serious angel Dean met through Jo and Ellen- is preening her daughter's wings, chastising her for getting paint and glue and mud all along the tips. It's become very obvious to Dean that the kid has a serious skill at getting her wings in a mess at every available opportunity.
It's then that Dean realises his hand is still resting on Castiel's shoulder. It doesn't seem to bother Cas, but Dean suddenly feels weird, like everyone's watching him and he draws his hand away, tucking his hands into his pockets.
Into the silence Castiel says, "Do you know where the natural history museum is?"
Dean blinks, surprised by the question.
"Know it?" Dean lets out a half-amused, half-long suffering breath. "Half the time I feel like we live there. John loves that place."
Castiel looks thoughtful for a long moment like maybe he's working out if Dean means he lives there in a literal sense or not. It's a look Cas often wears, somewhere between confused and ultra-focused, and Dean feels sorry for the guy. It's easy to forget that English isn't the angels' first language.
Dean takes pity on him. "We go there a lot," he clarifies. "Awesome dinosaur collection."
"Liwet mentioned that. He very much wants to visit."
Dean can just imagine John filling Lee's head with the glories of the natural history museum. "I bet John told him about the bug collection."
Cas nods gravely but his lips are turned up into an almost-smile.
"Lee might have mentioned that too."
"If you guys want to go," Dean decides to offer, "me and John can show you around this weekend if you like."
It'll be fun, Dean thinks. It's always fun showing Castiel and Lee new, human stuff. It helps that there's no way John would ever not want to spend more time with Lee. And no way he wouldn't want to go to the museum. Again.
Dean is definitely not thinking about how this is the second weekend he's spent with Cas, and what Sam is going to make of that fact. He's just being social and yeah, he likes Cas's company. He's not going to deny that. They're both adults and they have stuff in common and Cas seems to enjoy spending time with Dean too. That's a hell of a lot more than can be said for all his dates over the past couple years. Not that Cas is his date. Or that Dean's been on many since it was just him and John. But whatever, Dean knows he's done the right thing when Cas agrees immediately, "We would like that."
They agree to go that Saturday and when they tell the kids they both look super excited and grin like crazy, not even bitching so much about being separated for the night.
That evening John pulls out his dinosaur encyclopedia and declares, "I'm gonna learn all this and then I can teach Lee."
It's a thick book filled with pictures and diagrams and long words that Sam bought for John a couple of Christmases ago and Dean watches as John studiously tries to read the first page.
"You gonna get through that whole book in a week?" Dean asks.
Without looking up John nods decisively and replies, "Yep."
It's clear John can't read much no matter how hard he concentrates, and after ten minutes he looks up at Dean and pleads, "Daddy."
"Come here and I'll help." Dean pats the sofa beside him.
John's still young enough that he loves to climb up onto Dean's lap, lean against Dean's chest and let him do all the reading. Dean knows this is one of the things he's really gonna miss when John gets older and decides he's too grown up for hanging out with his dad. Dean wonders if Cas feels like this too sometimes; that Lee is growing up so fast he has to hold onto every opportunity he gets to be close to his son. Angels might be hard asses a whole lot of the time but Dean's seen first hand that family means a lot to them. It's weird, because Cas talks about his brother but not once has he mentioned his own parents. There's soft affection and staunch respect when he speaks about Joshua, who he calls his guardian, but Dean has no clue what that means. He'd ask Sam if he knows, but Dean gets the impression it's something Cas doesn't want to talk about. If he wants Dean to understand he'll tell him. Dean guesses he gets it because it's not like he's ever talked about his own family. His own parents.
On the sofa, Dean and John spend a couple hours going through the pages on what John decides are the most important dinosaurs, which amounts to all the biggest and ugliest and most deadly-looking. By the end of the evening John is mostly asleep on Dean's shoulder and Dean has to carry him up the stairs to bed in a way he hasn't in a while.
There's no moon tonight and John's room is dark, filled with shadows that Dean would once have feared. For most of his life shadows were where bad things came from. To Dean's relief, John has never had to face fear like that. He worries for him, for the future, that there will be war again or John will choose to be a hunter. Dean's not sure what he'd do if that happened. All he can do is focus on the here and now.
As Dean pulls the blankets over John, tucking them around him, he just hopes the kid doesn't have nightmares about all those claws and teeth.
Back downstairs Dean turns off the TV and sits himself down in his armchair. It was second hand when Dean bought it, long since worn down with age, but now it's shaped itself around Dean. Five years ago Dean would never imagine he'd ever be the kind of guy who had a favourite armchair and secretly kind of hated sitting anywhere else.
His cell phone is sitting on the coffee table in front of him and Dean picks it up. First he texts Sam to ask if his highness is coming over for dinner tomorrow or what. Sam is always working late on something and lately Dean's been caught up with the day care and it's been a while since they spent time together. Next, Dean texts Cas.
Half joking, half serious Dean asks, Are there dinosaurs in Heaven?
He leans back in his chair, lets his eyes close and thinks of nothing.
It's not long before Dean's phone buzzes: Castiel's reply.
Not where we reside, his text reads.
It's unclear if that means there are dinosaurs hanging out somewhere in Heaven or not, but angels are notoriously cagey about death. Dean guesses he understands why. People get crazy enough over angels and God as it is.
Another text, this time reading, I admit I know very little about Earth before the time of man.
That's good, Dean types back, because John is planning to be your tour guide on Saturday.
This has become a habit too; texting each other at the end of Dean's day. Those times when Cas doesn't get the chance to respond for a while Dean gets twitchy. It's just that he knows how dangerous Cas's job can get. He knows because Dean used to do a job a hell of a lot like it, and he has the scars and the messed up knee to prove it.
They talk for a while, sending texts back and forth. It's just stupid stuff, like how Dean thinks John needs to work on his reading and how Castiel thinks Lee needs to work on his sigils. How food in Heaven is mostly bland. How Cas's brother is in trouble for what Cas calls "neglecting his work in favour of frivolous activities", which Dean takes to mean he partied too hard.
Do you read Lee stories before bed? Dean asks. He's sleepy, knows he should go to bed, but he can' tear himself away from his phone even if all they're really doing is making really weird small talk.
Angels have no fictional literature of their own, Cas tells him, but I tell him the stories Joshua told me, or that I make up.
Dean thinks he'd really like to hear one of Castiel's stories.
When it's late and Dean can't keep his eyes open any longer he tells Cas, Saturday's going to be awesome.
It's less than a lot of things he maybe wants to say, like Come to Earth more so I can see you instead of just texting, or You're the coolest guy I've met in years. Maybe ever. Dean's not that out of it.
Castiel replies, It will be. Go to sleep Dean. And for once in his life Dean does as he's told.
It's not Castiel who comes to pick Lee up the next day after day care but Anna. "He's on business," is all she says and Dean lets it go.
Lee is hugging his leg something fierce, like maybe he doesn't want to go back to Heaven, hiding his face in the material of Dean's pants.
"In Iad isn't at home," Lee tells him mournfully.
"He'll be back soon," Dean assures the poor kid, and it feels a hell of a lot like how he used to reassure Sam that their own dad would be coming home when they were little. Anna doesn't seem to be in any hurry to leave so Dean lets the kid continue hanging on, strokes the hair on his head.
"Castiel told me to tell you he wouldn't be able to text you tonight." There's a sly tilt to Anna's smile. "What do you two talk about anyway? Castiel isn't exactly known for his conversational skills."
Dean's never had any problem talking to Cas.
"Stuff," Dean shrugs. Mostly, he doesn't know himself what their conversations are about. Anna looks like she's about to say more but across the school yard Camael is pulling at Alex's hair again and Dean has to hurry over to the fighting pair to pull them apart. Something is going to have to be done about those two, Dean decides, because he feels like he's forever splitting them up.
When he turns back he catches Anna watching him curiously. Lee and John are standing beside her, heads bent together, deep in conversation.
"They like each other," Anna observes, nodding towards where Alex and Camael are scowling at each other.
Dean scoffs. "If that's what liking someone looks like to an angel I don't wanna see your idea of hate."
He's seen it, Dean remembers. Once, on a battlefield that had turned into a massacre; wrath made of fire and burning white light. Another memory he half wishes he could forget. Here, in the afternoon sun, safe in this newer, different life, the memory is out of place. It seems almost unreal and that makes it easier for Dean to push aside and concentrate on Anna.
"They wouldn't expend so much effort gaining the other's attention if it was dislike," she is saying and Dean gets the distinct impression she's not just talking about Alex and Camael.
"Right," Dean replies neutrally. He pauses for a second before asking, "Can you ask Cas- Castiel- to text me when he's, y'know, back from wherever he's been?"
That had sounded a lot less stalkery in his head.
Anna's smile becomes impossibly wide. "Dean, it's already the first thing he does."
The knowledge surprises him; that Castiel thinks of Dean when he has all of Heaven and Anna and his work to think of. Something in Dean feels lighter, sure now that he's not the only one who maybe thinks the friendship or whatever they have going on is kind of awesome.
Dean knows he's probably grinning like a fool but he doesn't care. He ignores Anna's smug look, hugs Lee goodbye and is still grinning when he's locking up. At his side John looks up at him curiously.
"Dad," John asks, "Are you okay?"
"'Course I am, dude." Dean finishes up, takes John's hand and heads to the car. They're going to have to get moving if they want to miss the rush hour traffic. "Why'd you ask?"
"You have this huge, scary smile on your face," John tells him.
John grins crazily, scrunching up his eyes and baring his teeth in what he apparently thinks is an accurate impression of Dean.
"I do not look like that," Dean denies. The expression John is making reminds Dean of every creepy ass clown he's seen in his life and yeah, maybe he's been smiling so much his cheeks kind of hurt but he's not that manic.
"Do," John argues. They climb into the car and Dean starts the engine, letting it idle as he frowns exaggeratedly.
He argues back, "Do not."
Dean knows exactly where this argument is headed because they've had it a hundred times before. So does John because he sits up straighter.
"Do too."
"Do not." To emphasize his point Dean leaps across the seat, tickling John mercilessly. John squeals in surprise even though there was no way he didn't know what was coming, squirming away from Dean, at the same time laughing so hard his eyes were filled with tears.
"Dad, stop," he begs between giggles.
"Am I right?" Dean demands. "My smile isn't huge and scary?"
"You're right!" John acquiesces. "You're right, Dad!"
Magnanimously, Dean lets John go and leans back in the driver's seat smugly. "Your dad's always right."
John starts to nod but then shakes his head. "Except when Uncle Sam says you're not."
Dean frowns.
"Or Uncle Bobby," John adds thoughtfully.
"Kiddo," Dean tries to sound stern. "You are asking for it." He reaches his hands towards John, wiggling his fingers threateningly.
"No, no," John presses himself against the car door, trying to escape Dean's reaching hands. "You're always right, Dad!"
"Damn right." Dean grins in victory. "And you can tell your Uncle Sam that tonight at dinner."
Two hours and a surprisingly successful attempt at cooking lasagne later, they're just finishing eating when Dean reminds him, "You have something to tell your uncle, John."
"Oh yeah," John nods. "Me and Dad are going to the museum with Lee and Mister Castiel on Saturday!"
Not exactly what Dean was going for, and immediately Dean can see the glee in Sam's eyes.
"You are, huh?" Sam says in his best fake-casual voice. "And whose idea was that?" he asks John. Sneaky bastard.
Predictably, John replies, "Dad's!"
Slowly, Sam's head turns to face Dean. "Oh really?"
"Castiel told me Lee wants to go," Dean defends. "I'm doing them a favour. And you know how much John loves that place." He shouldn't need to explain himself, Dean thinks, but Sam has this annoying knowing look on his face.
"It's very selfless of you," Sam nods agreeably.
"Go wash the dishes," Dean decides is the safest reply to that. There's no way Sam won't harass him later, but hopefully cleaning up will give him time to consider how to derail Sam's overactive imagination. Thankfully his brother obeys, John trailing after him, wanting to help dry.
Whatever ideas Sam has gotten in his head, they- Dean and Cas- are just friends. Going to the museum is like having a play date, except, y'know, without the date part. That would just encourage Sam.
If Dean checks his phone for a message from Castiel while Sam is distracted it's because they haven't set up a time to meet up yet. It has nothing to do with worry, or that a hundred different scenarios of where Cas might be and what he might be doing are going through his head. None of them good.
From the kitchen Dean can hear Sam trying to extract information from John, catching the tail end of a question, "-your dad and Castiel?"
"They talk all the time, yeah," John replies. "They're like me and Lee!"
That makes Dean smile and he goes to join his son and his brother, the pair of them giggling like little girls over the kitchen sink.
"Okay enough with the gossiping." Dean leans against the doorframe, tries to look stern. "More scrubbing, less talking."
Sam ignores him. "Your Dad," he says to John, "is a little shy."
"Why?" John asks.
"I think he thinks he's not allowed to have a best friend or something."
John's expression is upset when he turns to face Dean. "Dad. Why aren't you allowed a best friend? Lee says Mister Castiel likes you a lot and talks about you all the time. Lee says his uncle is mean about it because he thinks Mister Castiel spends too much time on Earth and not enough with him and I know Mister Castiel would be your best friend if you asked him."
The kid looks so upset there's no way Dean can't placate him. "No, yeah, of course Castiel is my best friend." Dean spares a second to glare at Sam before he wraps John up in a hug. "We're both just new to the whole friend thing," Dean admits.
"S'okay," John says, and Dean would swear he sounds consoling or something. "I'll help you, Dad." He pats Dean's back.
Out the corner of his eye Dean can see his evil little brother smirking.
"Err," he tells John awkwardly, "Thanks, dude."
The only consolation Dean has is that Castiel gets shit from his brother about this too. It's not like he's ashamed or embarrassed or anything. The opposite, it's cool he gets to hang out with an awesome angel guy. It's just that Dean doesn't like the way people assume things. They come to all these conclusions about a friendship that's so new and so different from anything Dean's ever had before he hasn't even figured it out himself yet. That Dean is desperate not to mess up.
The reply is enough for John, at least, who nods against Dean's shoulder before squirming away, getting back to putting the glasses and plates away in all the wrong places.
Later, when John is in bed and Dean and Sam are sitting in the living room watching crappy TV and drinking whisky- a rare treat these days- Dean tells his brother, "It's not what you think, you know."
Sam looks over, eyebrow raised disbelievingly. "No?"
Dean doesn't doubt that Sam knows exactly what they're talking about.
"No," he states.
"And what is it you think I think?" he challenges, frowns, "If you get what I mean."
Dean waves his hand dismissively, concentrating on the liquid in his glass. It's better than looking at Sam.
"You think we're having some kind of weird epic love affair. I've seen the kind of books you read."
Sam huffs a laugh. "I've never seen an angel hang out with a human the way Castiel hangs out with you, Dean. I've told you before. If that's not something epic I don't know what is."
"Your hair is epic," Dean retorts, not caring that that has to rank as one of his worst comebacks ever.
There's a weird silence, and Dean just knows that Sam is going to try and talk about feelings.
"You know it's okay, right?" he asks. "To like him?"
It would be easy to ignore him, or to answer with some brush off or joke about Sam's love of romance novels. But Dean's cell phone is still silent and it's getting hard to ignore the fact that he is worried and that he wants Cas to be there- if not in person then at least at the other end of the line- talking about stupid stuff and arranging times to meet up. He wants that, and maybe more, but Dean has no clue if he can have it.
"No," he tells Sam. "I don't know." There's too much he doesn't know- that no human knows- about angels. "And neither do you."
To be continued
3,867 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 reading this through twice this time! :)
Again, thank you all for your comments! I love to read them all. ♥
After a long time deciding, I have finally set up a tumblr account here and I hope you'll all help me learn what I'm doing over there!
And now on to the next part!
An Unconventional Kind of Place
11.
Castiel arrives- as he does almost every day- at four o'clock on the dot. He nods when his eyes meet Dean's. Dean smiles in greeting and then they move towards one another, Cas's strides long and confident.
It's the same every afternoon Cas comes to collect Lee; he appears on the playground's perimeter in that weird angel way- a sudden presence when there was nothing before, a fleeting sound of beating wings, a light breeze of air that smells different every time. The first thing Castiel does is look for Lee. The second is that he looks to find Dean.
Over the past few months it's become a ritual, something Dean does now without thinking, and every day he's glad to see Cas. No matter how shitty the day or how much the kids have been fighting or how tired he is there's something about seeing Cas at the end of the day that just makes Dean feel that much lighter, like he can take whatever the world wants to throw at him.
Cas always greets him with "Hello, Dean," and Dean always replies, "Hey." That never changes.
They talk about the kids and about their classes, and sometimes Cas asks about some human thing he doesn't understand and sometimes Dean asks about an angel thing he doesn't get. They talk about food and gardens and annoying brothers.
Today Castiel is carrying the stuffed camel he'd told Dean about earlier. It's an ugly monstrosity with gaudy beads and bright yellow string hanging all over it, its eyes large and black in a way that reminds Dean too much of demons. The toy looks out of place held in Castiel's arms, looks comic as Cas holds onto it tightly as he strides across the yard towards Dean.
He holds it out with far more solemnity than a cheap-looking stuffed camel deserves.
"For you and the children."
"Thanks." Dean accepts the creature. For all it looks like its seams might burst open at any second it feels pretty solid, no sharp edges. He'll try pulling the eyes off later, see if it’s safe for the kids. Dean almost kind of hopes it isn't so he can keep it at home. The thing has such a sad, ugly face that Dean kind of likes it. "Who'd you get it from?"
"A Devotee," Castiel replies, which could mean anything. As far as Dean can tell angels lump together anyone who shows even a slight belief in some kind of god. Sam has always said the angels just don't get religion: that it's all one thing to them.
It begs the question what Castiel was doing for someone to give him a toy animal, but Dean is always wary of asking what Castiel has been doing, of where he's been. He knows from experience how dangerous that type of information could be. So instead Dean asks, "Was the coffee any good?"
"It wasn't." Cas grimaces and Dean laughs at the expression, pats Castiel's shoulder companionably.
"We'll find you some you like one day, man," he promises.
Castiel nods like it’s a certainty and for a long moment they watch the kids play, meeting their parents, saying their goodbyes. Sabiel's mother- a tall, serious angel Dean met through Jo and Ellen- is preening her daughter's wings, chastising her for getting paint and glue and mud all along the tips. It's become very obvious to Dean that the kid has a serious skill at getting her wings in a mess at every available opportunity.
It's then that Dean realises his hand is still resting on Castiel's shoulder. It doesn't seem to bother Cas, but Dean suddenly feels weird, like everyone's watching him and he draws his hand away, tucking his hands into his pockets.
Into the silence Castiel says, "Do you know where the natural history museum is?"
Dean blinks, surprised by the question.
"Know it?" Dean lets out a half-amused, half-long suffering breath. "Half the time I feel like we live there. John loves that place."
Castiel looks thoughtful for a long moment like maybe he's working out if Dean means he lives there in a literal sense or not. It's a look Cas often wears, somewhere between confused and ultra-focused, and Dean feels sorry for the guy. It's easy to forget that English isn't the angels' first language.
Dean takes pity on him. "We go there a lot," he clarifies. "Awesome dinosaur collection."
"Liwet mentioned that. He very much wants to visit."
Dean can just imagine John filling Lee's head with the glories of the natural history museum. "I bet John told him about the bug collection."
Cas nods gravely but his lips are turned up into an almost-smile.
"Lee might have mentioned that too."
"If you guys want to go," Dean decides to offer, "me and John can show you around this weekend if you like."
It'll be fun, Dean thinks. It's always fun showing Castiel and Lee new, human stuff. It helps that there's no way John would ever not want to spend more time with Lee. And no way he wouldn't want to go to the museum. Again.
Dean is definitely not thinking about how this is the second weekend he's spent with Cas, and what Sam is going to make of that fact. He's just being social and yeah, he likes Cas's company. He's not going to deny that. They're both adults and they have stuff in common and Cas seems to enjoy spending time with Dean too. That's a hell of a lot more than can be said for all his dates over the past couple years. Not that Cas is his date. Or that Dean's been on many since it was just him and John. But whatever, Dean knows he's done the right thing when Cas agrees immediately, "We would like that."
They agree to go that Saturday and when they tell the kids they both look super excited and grin like crazy, not even bitching so much about being separated for the night.
That evening John pulls out his dinosaur encyclopedia and declares, "I'm gonna learn all this and then I can teach Lee."
It's a thick book filled with pictures and diagrams and long words that Sam bought for John a couple of Christmases ago and Dean watches as John studiously tries to read the first page.
"You gonna get through that whole book in a week?" Dean asks.
Without looking up John nods decisively and replies, "Yep."
It's clear John can't read much no matter how hard he concentrates, and after ten minutes he looks up at Dean and pleads, "Daddy."
"Come here and I'll help." Dean pats the sofa beside him.
John's still young enough that he loves to climb up onto Dean's lap, lean against Dean's chest and let him do all the reading. Dean knows this is one of the things he's really gonna miss when John gets older and decides he's too grown up for hanging out with his dad. Dean wonders if Cas feels like this too sometimes; that Lee is growing up so fast he has to hold onto every opportunity he gets to be close to his son. Angels might be hard asses a whole lot of the time but Dean's seen first hand that family means a lot to them. It's weird, because Cas talks about his brother but not once has he mentioned his own parents. There's soft affection and staunch respect when he speaks about Joshua, who he calls his guardian, but Dean has no clue what that means. He'd ask Sam if he knows, but Dean gets the impression it's something Cas doesn't want to talk about. If he wants Dean to understand he'll tell him. Dean guesses he gets it because it's not like he's ever talked about his own family. His own parents.
On the sofa, Dean and John spend a couple hours going through the pages on what John decides are the most important dinosaurs, which amounts to all the biggest and ugliest and most deadly-looking. By the end of the evening John is mostly asleep on Dean's shoulder and Dean has to carry him up the stairs to bed in a way he hasn't in a while.
There's no moon tonight and John's room is dark, filled with shadows that Dean would once have feared. For most of his life shadows were where bad things came from. To Dean's relief, John has never had to face fear like that. He worries for him, for the future, that there will be war again or John will choose to be a hunter. Dean's not sure what he'd do if that happened. All he can do is focus on the here and now.
As Dean pulls the blankets over John, tucking them around him, he just hopes the kid doesn't have nightmares about all those claws and teeth.
Back downstairs Dean turns off the TV and sits himself down in his armchair. It was second hand when Dean bought it, long since worn down with age, but now it's shaped itself around Dean. Five years ago Dean would never imagine he'd ever be the kind of guy who had a favourite armchair and secretly kind of hated sitting anywhere else.
His cell phone is sitting on the coffee table in front of him and Dean picks it up. First he texts Sam to ask if his highness is coming over for dinner tomorrow or what. Sam is always working late on something and lately Dean's been caught up with the day care and it's been a while since they spent time together. Next, Dean texts Cas.
Half joking, half serious Dean asks, Are there dinosaurs in Heaven?
He leans back in his chair, lets his eyes close and thinks of nothing.
It's not long before Dean's phone buzzes: Castiel's reply.
Not where we reside, his text reads.
It's unclear if that means there are dinosaurs hanging out somewhere in Heaven or not, but angels are notoriously cagey about death. Dean guesses he understands why. People get crazy enough over angels and God as it is.
Another text, this time reading, I admit I know very little about Earth before the time of man.
That's good, Dean types back, because John is planning to be your tour guide on Saturday.
This has become a habit too; texting each other at the end of Dean's day. Those times when Cas doesn't get the chance to respond for a while Dean gets twitchy. It's just that he knows how dangerous Cas's job can get. He knows because Dean used to do a job a hell of a lot like it, and he has the scars and the messed up knee to prove it.
They talk for a while, sending texts back and forth. It's just stupid stuff, like how Dean thinks John needs to work on his reading and how Castiel thinks Lee needs to work on his sigils. How food in Heaven is mostly bland. How Cas's brother is in trouble for what Cas calls "neglecting his work in favour of frivolous activities", which Dean takes to mean he partied too hard.
Do you read Lee stories before bed? Dean asks. He's sleepy, knows he should go to bed, but he can' tear himself away from his phone even if all they're really doing is making really weird small talk.
Angels have no fictional literature of their own, Cas tells him, but I tell him the stories Joshua told me, or that I make up.
Dean thinks he'd really like to hear one of Castiel's stories.
When it's late and Dean can't keep his eyes open any longer he tells Cas, Saturday's going to be awesome.
It's less than a lot of things he maybe wants to say, like Come to Earth more so I can see you instead of just texting, or You're the coolest guy I've met in years. Maybe ever. Dean's not that out of it.
Castiel replies, It will be. Go to sleep Dean. And for once in his life Dean does as he's told.
It's not Castiel who comes to pick Lee up the next day after day care but Anna. "He's on business," is all she says and Dean lets it go.
Lee is hugging his leg something fierce, like maybe he doesn't want to go back to Heaven, hiding his face in the material of Dean's pants.
"In Iad isn't at home," Lee tells him mournfully.
"He'll be back soon," Dean assures the poor kid, and it feels a hell of a lot like how he used to reassure Sam that their own dad would be coming home when they were little. Anna doesn't seem to be in any hurry to leave so Dean lets the kid continue hanging on, strokes the hair on his head.
"Castiel told me to tell you he wouldn't be able to text you tonight." There's a sly tilt to Anna's smile. "What do you two talk about anyway? Castiel isn't exactly known for his conversational skills."
Dean's never had any problem talking to Cas.
"Stuff," Dean shrugs. Mostly, he doesn't know himself what their conversations are about. Anna looks like she's about to say more but across the school yard Camael is pulling at Alex's hair again and Dean has to hurry over to the fighting pair to pull them apart. Something is going to have to be done about those two, Dean decides, because he feels like he's forever splitting them up.
When he turns back he catches Anna watching him curiously. Lee and John are standing beside her, heads bent together, deep in conversation.
"They like each other," Anna observes, nodding towards where Alex and Camael are scowling at each other.
Dean scoffs. "If that's what liking someone looks like to an angel I don't wanna see your idea of hate."
He's seen it, Dean remembers. Once, on a battlefield that had turned into a massacre; wrath made of fire and burning white light. Another memory he half wishes he could forget. Here, in the afternoon sun, safe in this newer, different life, the memory is out of place. It seems almost unreal and that makes it easier for Dean to push aside and concentrate on Anna.
"They wouldn't expend so much effort gaining the other's attention if it was dislike," she is saying and Dean gets the distinct impression she's not just talking about Alex and Camael.
"Right," Dean replies neutrally. He pauses for a second before asking, "Can you ask Cas- Castiel- to text me when he's, y'know, back from wherever he's been?"
That had sounded a lot less stalkery in his head.
Anna's smile becomes impossibly wide. "Dean, it's already the first thing he does."
The knowledge surprises him; that Castiel thinks of Dean when he has all of Heaven and Anna and his work to think of. Something in Dean feels lighter, sure now that he's not the only one who maybe thinks the friendship or whatever they have going on is kind of awesome.
Dean knows he's probably grinning like a fool but he doesn't care. He ignores Anna's smug look, hugs Lee goodbye and is still grinning when he's locking up. At his side John looks up at him curiously.
"Dad," John asks, "Are you okay?"
"'Course I am, dude." Dean finishes up, takes John's hand and heads to the car. They're going to have to get moving if they want to miss the rush hour traffic. "Why'd you ask?"
"You have this huge, scary smile on your face," John tells him.
John grins crazily, scrunching up his eyes and baring his teeth in what he apparently thinks is an accurate impression of Dean.
"I do not look like that," Dean denies. The expression John is making reminds Dean of every creepy ass clown he's seen in his life and yeah, maybe he's been smiling so much his cheeks kind of hurt but he's not that manic.
"Do," John argues. They climb into the car and Dean starts the engine, letting it idle as he frowns exaggeratedly.
He argues back, "Do not."
Dean knows exactly where this argument is headed because they've had it a hundred times before. So does John because he sits up straighter.
"Do too."
"Do not." To emphasize his point Dean leaps across the seat, tickling John mercilessly. John squeals in surprise even though there was no way he didn't know what was coming, squirming away from Dean, at the same time laughing so hard his eyes were filled with tears.
"Dad, stop," he begs between giggles.
"Am I right?" Dean demands. "My smile isn't huge and scary?"
"You're right!" John acquiesces. "You're right, Dad!"
Magnanimously, Dean lets John go and leans back in the driver's seat smugly. "Your dad's always right."
John starts to nod but then shakes his head. "Except when Uncle Sam says you're not."
Dean frowns.
"Or Uncle Bobby," John adds thoughtfully.
"Kiddo," Dean tries to sound stern. "You are asking for it." He reaches his hands towards John, wiggling his fingers threateningly.
"No, no," John presses himself against the car door, trying to escape Dean's reaching hands. "You're always right, Dad!"
"Damn right." Dean grins in victory. "And you can tell your Uncle Sam that tonight at dinner."
Two hours and a surprisingly successful attempt at cooking lasagne later, they're just finishing eating when Dean reminds him, "You have something to tell your uncle, John."
"Oh yeah," John nods. "Me and Dad are going to the museum with Lee and Mister Castiel on Saturday!"
Not exactly what Dean was going for, and immediately Dean can see the glee in Sam's eyes.
"You are, huh?" Sam says in his best fake-casual voice. "And whose idea was that?" he asks John. Sneaky bastard.
Predictably, John replies, "Dad's!"
Slowly, Sam's head turns to face Dean. "Oh really?"
"Castiel told me Lee wants to go," Dean defends. "I'm doing them a favour. And you know how much John loves that place." He shouldn't need to explain himself, Dean thinks, but Sam has this annoying knowing look on his face.
"It's very selfless of you," Sam nods agreeably.
"Go wash the dishes," Dean decides is the safest reply to that. There's no way Sam won't harass him later, but hopefully cleaning up will give him time to consider how to derail Sam's overactive imagination. Thankfully his brother obeys, John trailing after him, wanting to help dry.
Whatever ideas Sam has gotten in his head, they- Dean and Cas- are just friends. Going to the museum is like having a play date, except, y'know, without the date part. That would just encourage Sam.
If Dean checks his phone for a message from Castiel while Sam is distracted it's because they haven't set up a time to meet up yet. It has nothing to do with worry, or that a hundred different scenarios of where Cas might be and what he might be doing are going through his head. None of them good.
From the kitchen Dean can hear Sam trying to extract information from John, catching the tail end of a question, "-your dad and Castiel?"
"They talk all the time, yeah," John replies. "They're like me and Lee!"
That makes Dean smile and he goes to join his son and his brother, the pair of them giggling like little girls over the kitchen sink.
"Okay enough with the gossiping." Dean leans against the doorframe, tries to look stern. "More scrubbing, less talking."
Sam ignores him. "Your Dad," he says to John, "is a little shy."
"Why?" John asks.
"I think he thinks he's not allowed to have a best friend or something."
John's expression is upset when he turns to face Dean. "Dad. Why aren't you allowed a best friend? Lee says Mister Castiel likes you a lot and talks about you all the time. Lee says his uncle is mean about it because he thinks Mister Castiel spends too much time on Earth and not enough with him and I know Mister Castiel would be your best friend if you asked him."
The kid looks so upset there's no way Dean can't placate him. "No, yeah, of course Castiel is my best friend." Dean spares a second to glare at Sam before he wraps John up in a hug. "We're both just new to the whole friend thing," Dean admits.
"S'okay," John says, and Dean would swear he sounds consoling or something. "I'll help you, Dad." He pats Dean's back.
Out the corner of his eye Dean can see his evil little brother smirking.
"Err," he tells John awkwardly, "Thanks, dude."
The only consolation Dean has is that Castiel gets shit from his brother about this too. It's not like he's ashamed or embarrassed or anything. The opposite, it's cool he gets to hang out with an awesome angel guy. It's just that Dean doesn't like the way people assume things. They come to all these conclusions about a friendship that's so new and so different from anything Dean's ever had before he hasn't even figured it out himself yet. That Dean is desperate not to mess up.
The reply is enough for John, at least, who nods against Dean's shoulder before squirming away, getting back to putting the glasses and plates away in all the wrong places.
Later, when John is in bed and Dean and Sam are sitting in the living room watching crappy TV and drinking whisky- a rare treat these days- Dean tells his brother, "It's not what you think, you know."
Sam looks over, eyebrow raised disbelievingly. "No?"
Dean doesn't doubt that Sam knows exactly what they're talking about.
"No," he states.
"And what is it you think I think?" he challenges, frowns, "If you get what I mean."
Dean waves his hand dismissively, concentrating on the liquid in his glass. It's better than looking at Sam.
"You think we're having some kind of weird epic love affair. I've seen the kind of books you read."
Sam huffs a laugh. "I've never seen an angel hang out with a human the way Castiel hangs out with you, Dean. I've told you before. If that's not something epic I don't know what is."
"Your hair is epic," Dean retorts, not caring that that has to rank as one of his worst comebacks ever.
There's a weird silence, and Dean just knows that Sam is going to try and talk about feelings.
"You know it's okay, right?" he asks. "To like him?"
It would be easy to ignore him, or to answer with some brush off or joke about Sam's love of romance novels. But Dean's cell phone is still silent and it's getting hard to ignore the fact that he is worried and that he wants Cas to be there- if not in person then at least at the other end of the line- talking about stupid stuff and arranging times to meet up. He wants that, and maybe more, but Dean has no clue if he can have it.
"No," he tells Sam. "I don't know." There's too much he doesn't know- that no human knows- about angels. "And neither do you."
To be continued