Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tiny legs shuffled down the cracked pavement, each step dragging more than the last. 

Where was he going? He didn’t know. 

Only that he had to keep moving. 

The world around him blurred—until suddenly, he stopped. In front of him stood a scrap yard, its rusted metal arch bearing uneven letters: ‘Singer Auto Salvage.’

-x-

The roof of the school was home to one main playboy. Right now he was with one of his gaggle of girls that followed him around. What can he say? He got the looks and smarts for it.

“Take off your shirt.” The girl in front of him, Jamie? Janine? Who cares… panted through her breath as she removed her blouse, revealing her bra-clad breasts. Nice!

“You’d like that huh?” He chuckled, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, giving the girl in front of him a show.

The sound of footsteps were unheard by the two lost in their kiss and own moans. But the loud booming voice was unmissable.

“DEAN WINCHESTER!!” He heard the teacher yell.

“Shit!” The guy pulled back, buttoning his shirt back as the girl rushed to do the same, getting presentable.

As the girl ran away, Dean was smacked in the head. Hard.

“AAH! That hurt!” Dean rubbed where he was smacked. ”What are you doing here?! Isn’t it time for class?!”

“I should be asking you that.” Sonny chided him. “It IS time for class. SO what are YOU doing here?!”

“What am I doing?!” Dean asked, defensively.

“I take my eyes off of you for just one second and you’re off somewhere else fooling around!” Sonny then sighed, pinching his eyes. “Why even bother coming to school, D-Dog.”

As Sonny asked, Dean sat on the roof stretching and moaning about how bad his head hurt. With a roll of his eyes, Sonny dragged him and pushed Dean into his classroom. Dean, though settled in, pouted and  sulked throughout the whole class period.

After school, as Dean drove Sam back home, Sam grumbled and asked, “Couldn’t you be a manwhore elsewhere?”

“Hey, I don’t go after girls. All the girls come to me.”

“You can’t be fixed.” Sam shook his head and went back to reading his book as Dean laughed out loud at his brother’s discomfort.

-x-

“Are you serious?”

“Well…” The older woman shrugged.

“You mean…”

“That’s right.”

“What are we gonna do?” Her daughter asked, turning to see the young boy sitting at their home, holding a tiny angel plushie with him, as he watched the TV in front of him.

The sudden rumble of the Impala indicated the boys’ home return, prompting another woman, younger than the mother but older than the daughter,  to run out from the kitchen. She opened the door just in time to see Sam get out of the car as Dean still stayed put.

“Why ain't you getting out?” She asked , walking to the car.

“This girl-”

“Dean Winchester. Get in the house right now!” 

“Pamela-”

“If you don’t, I’ll kill you, okay?!”

“Damn, alright… Jeez.” Dean placated, parking his car in the garage as Sam and Pamela entered the house.

“What the fuck did i get into now?” Dean mumbled as he entered the house and chucked his shoe off. “Ok, what’s the deal.”

As he closed the door and turned, he was not greeted by his usual family. Instead, a boy around 8 stood there, clutching his plushie and staring at him with wide blue eyes.

“What the f-”

“Hey Castiel!” The older woman came to the door with a forced smile. “Why don’t you go watch the TV? The commercial is over.”

“Okay!” The little boy - Castiel - ran.

“Who’s the child Ellen?” Dean asked, moving next to the older woman.

“Hmm… come with me.” She said, taking him to the dining table where the atmosphere shocked him to his core.

Dark swirls of seriousness wrought the room as Bobby, Ellen, Sammy, Pamela, Ash, and Jo sat at the table.

“What’s wrong?! Why’s everyone so serious?!” Dean ran to Bobby. “You good, old man?!”

‘Shut up and sit your ass down, ya idjit!” Bobby grumbled, and Dean did as he was told.

Ellen took a seat at the head of the table, as Jo nudged Dean and whispered, “Stay calm and listen.”

Dean, not brave enough to be funny in a serious situation, nodded.

“So you know the new family that moved in, Naomi Shurley?” Pamela said, looking at everyone nodding. “Well, there’s been some trouble.”

“Trouble?” Sam asked.

“She disappeared.” Jo said in an unusually serious tone.

“And not in the fun magic way.” Ash added, getting a smack from Bobby. “Ouch! Anyways, as I was saying. After her husband died, she didn’t have the confidence to raise 8-year old Castiel on her own. So she vanished.”

“Bullshit!” Dean said in anger. “Didn’t have the confidence?! What bullshit!”

“Keep your voice down!” Pamela hissed.

“Anyways, we will have to take care of him until we find his mother.” Bobby said. “Everyone should keep that in mind.”

“Dean.” Ellen called out, and Jo once again nudged him with a silent warning while Pamela looked amused, waiting for what’s going to happen.

“Yes?” Dean asked, gulping his nervousness.

“You will take care of him.”

“What?! Why?!” Dean asked. Out of all the punishments Ellen could’ve thrown at him, she picked this? A kid? Dean watching a kid?

But then he quickly regretted asking as a menacing glare took over Ellen’s face.

“Why?! You are asking WHY?!” Ellen stood up and leaned down, towering over Dean’s sitting form. “Sonny called me about what was going on today! Yesterday, some random girl came to the house and asked me to give something to you and it was her photos!”

“Eh?! Why is that my fault? I wonder who it was though…” Dean trailed off, getting Ash to suck his teeth. That was a bad move from Dean.

“Go baby-sit and learn to behave!” Ellen yelled. 

Before Dean could respond, a movement was seen near the entrance of the dining area. The lot turned to find the boy peering in, as if he needed permission to enter the room.

“Ah Castiel!” Jo smiled. “What’s up?”

“I- I would like to use the restroom please.” He said, squirming lightly in place.

“You need the bathroom?” Pamela asked this time. “Well then…” She slapped Dean’s back, propelling him front. 

“Pamela!”

“Stop moaning Dean.” Sam rolled his eyes but a hint of mischief tugged at his lips. “Go do your job, babysitter.”

“Don’t take out your frustrations on the child dude. That’s so not cool.” Ash said, shaking his head.

“What?! How dare you say that!” Dean felt frustrated. Not only was he being thrusted a babysitter job, but he also was being accused of being a bad one?! Mind you, did they all forget who raised Sam?!

“Excuse me, but it’s really urgent…” Castiel said, squirming vigorously in place.

“Let them be, boy. I will take you.” Bobby said, getting up from the table. 

“Nah, I will do it!” Dean said, running to Castiel. “I will take care of Cas so well that yall will be astonished! Mark my words!”

And with that, Dean guided the little boy out of the room, who was looking at Dean.

The man in front of him looked... safe. Loud, but safe. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

Besides, the man had given the boy his first nickname.

Cas.

Chapter Text

Dean yawned as woke up, scratching his butt and getting off his bed to do his usual routine. Brush his teeth. Shower. Dry up. Perfume. Clothes. Leather jacket (a must!). And walk down to the living room.

“Oof!” Something said as it hit his leg and a thud was heard. Dean looked down down to find-

“Cas? Oh my god, Cas. Are you alright?!” Dean asked, crouching. “What were you down here right next to the stairs, bud?!”

A rolled paper smacked lightly on his head and Dean looked up to find Jo smiling at him amusedly. Cas, meanwhile, was rubbing his butt - the part that had taken the most when he got knocked by Dean’s knees.

“What's this?” Dean asked, taking the paper away and looking at… a map?

“Cas’ school. Don’t get lost ∼” Jo sang as she fluttered away.

Dean groaned and looked down once again where Cas was now standing and staring at Dean intently. The boy had a too serious look for a kid his age on his face.

“Would you like to have some breakfast, Dean?” Cas asked and Dean blinked. Right, breakfast.

“Yeah Cas. What about you? Did you eat?” 

“No, I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to…”

“What the hell?” Dean asked, confused by Cas’ words. As they reached the dining table, Dean asked, “Bobby, Ellen, why hasn’t Cas eaten his food yet?”

“What do you mean? We all eat together. That’s how this usually goes.” Ellen said, flipping a pancake on the stove.

“Well, Cas just told me he didn’t know if he was allowed to eat.” Dean said as he placed Cas on a dining chair.

“What the hell?” Bobby grumbled shocked.

“That’s what I said!”

Bobby ignored Dean’s outburst and turned to Cas, expression softening as he looked at the boy sitting with his head down. “Boy, you don’t gotta ask if you’re allowed to eat. You sit down, you eat, simple as that.”

Cas stared at him, his brows furrowed. “But… I didn’t want to take anyone’s food. I don’t want to be a burden.”

Dean frowned, setting a plate of pancakes in front of Cas and himself. “A burden?” He shook his head, dishing out some bacon and eggs onto a separate plate for himself. “You’re not a burden, Cas. Not ever.”

“Yeah, you’re family, okay?” Sam said, a little more sternly than he meant to, but the words felt right. He gave Bobby a glance, who gave a silent nod of approval.

Cas’s eyes softened at the reassurance, but he still looked a little unsure as he poked at the food in front of him. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t mention it, just eat your damn food.” Ash teased, a smile tugging at his lips. 

Pamela walked up behind Cas and kissed him on the top of his head, the little boy startling at the sudden affection. “Eat up, alright? It’s all yours. No one’s takin’ it from you.” 

Jo gave a soft chuckle, adding, “I’ll kick anyone’s ass who tries, too.”

Cas gave them all a quiet smile, before finally picking up his fork, poking at the pancake cautiously before taking a bite. Dean watched him for a moment, feeling an odd sense of protectiveness he wasn’t used to. The kid had been through enough already. He wasn’t about to let anyone make him feel like he didn’t belong.

And with that, the sound of Cas chewing peacefully filled the air as Dean tucked into his own breakfast, finally feeling like everything was right for a moment.

-x-

“Okay buddy. I have to drop Jo and Ash first, then Sammy at his fancy shmancy school. Then you. Alright?” Dean asked, strapping Cas safely in the back, ignoring everyone’s chide him about not getting a baby seat for the boy.

“Understood.” Cas nodded, Sam, who was sitting in the passenger seat, giggling at the boy’s formal tone.

“Dean is a bad boy Cas.” Jo said as she entered the car to sit next to Cas. “Didn’t care to buy a handsome boy like you a baby seat!”

“Hey! Little man over here doesn’t need a baby seat.” Ash chided, slipping in through the other side of Cas as Dean made his way to the driver’s seat.  “Isn’t that right Cassie?!”

“I’d appreciate it if you don’t call me Cassie. I prefer Cas.” 

“Don’t hope on your wishes being fulfilled here Cas. These idiots still call me Sammy even though I hate it. I prefer Sam.” 

“Well you’ll always be my Sammy!” Dean said, strapping his seatbelt before cooing at Sam, who swatted at his brother in vain.

“Don’t worry, I will call you Sam. You can count on me.” Cas assured Sam with a big nod, which got Sam to smile. 

“Alright lady and gentlemen, hold on coz we are about to roll!” Dean said before shifting gears and driving away. Ash and Jo, who were sitting next to Cas, decided to hold onto him tightly due to Dean’s stubbornness to not buy a car seat.

One by one, everyone got down from the car, and as Dean drove to his school, he was unusually happy - feeling glad to tend to his family.

The gaggle of girls that followed him noticed his unusually happy demeanor and prodded him to spill the tea but Dean just shrugged it off and went to his class, meeting up with his classmates.

As the day passed by, not once did Dean take on the girls’ advances, confusing his classmates a lot.

And when the day ended, Dean, who usually was ready to cosy up with one of the girls, decided to leave as soon as the bell rang, almost jumping into his car and driving away with a speed that exceeded limits.

Except he was stopped by his teacher.

“Where do you think you are going D-Dog? Did you forget the extra lessons you have to do to compensate all the classes you missed?”

“What? Sonny, I-”

“May I remind you the marks you got on your last test, Mr. Winchester?”

“Not the last name!” Dean whined. “Sonny, I really can’t do today. I have to pick someone from the primary school?”

Sonny’s face stilled in shock before he leaned close to Dean with a lowered voice. “Do you have a child? Dean I swear to god-”

‘Sonny, is that really how you see me?!” Dean asked jumping back, flustered by what Sonny was implying. However, Sonny’s expression was enough of an answer to make Dean pout. “Hey, that’s mean!”

“Well, don’t make up excuses so silly then!” Sonny grumbled before sighing. “Look Dean, you have potential. I am just trying to help you out. I stick my neck out there to other teachers so you don’t get into more mess. I am genuinely trying my best to get your scores up but I need you to cooperate with me.”

“Sonny, I-” Dean huffed before rubbing his face. “I will make arrangements for tomorrow but right now I have an 8 year old kid most likely standing alone in the streets waiting for me. So I am really sorry, I need to go.”

Sonny stared at Dean’s pleading expression before nodding defeatedly. “Fine, leave. But don’t you dare pull something like this tomorrow!”

“I will not. I definitely will not! I promise!” Dean yelled as he ran to get to his car, yelling more promises to Sonny as he drove away, the teacher stood there shaking his head. 

This kid…

-x-

Dean was running late because of stupid traffic but he reached! Late by an hour but he reached! The others usually clubbed with him in the mornings but came back home by themselves in the evening, but Cas was different. He was only 8!

As Dean entered the primary school, he saw 3 teachers running around yelling. 

“Did you find him?!” 

“No, he isn’t here! What about you?!”

“Not here as well!”

“Hey!” Dean yelled, hoping to pause the chaos. “What’s going on?!”

“You are Castiel’s pickup aren’t you?” One of the teachers asked, to which Dean nodded.

“We are so sorry but we can’t find him anywhere.”

“Must have slipped away when we were not keeping an eye on him.”

“God dammit!” Dean tugged his hair before running back to his car and driving it around the neighborhood, sometimes getting out of the car to check nooks and corners.

“Where the fuck could have he gone?!” Dean asked himself in frustration. “This can’t be happening… I fucking lost a child!”

As he bumped his head on the steering wheel, he saw a lone figure in the sandbox at a playground. Getting down and walking quickly, he felt half-relieved and half-angry when realizing the lone figure was Cas.

“What the hell are you doing here?!”

Cas startled and jumped before turning around and bowing. “I-I’m sorry!”

Dean wanted to yell but the oddly blank expression coupled with teary eyes and red nose hinted at something bigger.

“Well, it’s okay… now that I’ve found you.” Dean said slowly, trying to figure out what had happened, deciding it was best to figure it out with multiple minds. “We’re going home.”

“Home?!” Cas perked up. “We are going home?”

“Yeah. Bobby and Ellen’s!” Dean smiled but quickly frowned when the boy in front of him deflated, returning to the oddly blank expression he had.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Dean asked, crouching. “Was it because I’m late? I’m sorry. I’ll be on time tomorrow, okay?”

Cas kept staring at the ground before saying, “I should have done the chores… I should have not cared if I was tired… I should have eaten everything mom made even though I was too full… So now Mom hates me.”

Dean’s heart broke as the little body in front of him started trembling. 

“I’ll be a good from now… please tell Mom to take me back.” Tears dropped on the sand below them, turning them into dark brown.  “Please take me to my mom. I can tell my teacher’s that my mom didn’t disappear. I can tell them it’s fine I don’t have a dad. I don’t want to be lonely.” The controlled tears now burst out, Cas trying to physically hold them back with his hands.

“Cas…” Dean said softly, patting Cas’ shoulder. Loneliness. It makes us do weird things. Running away from school to a sandbox. Or running into arms of girls and not commit to anyone.

As Cas’ body trembled vigorously, Dean reassured the little boy. “Nobody hates you, Cas.” Pulling the boy into a hug, he let Cas cry as loudly as he wanted, not caring for the way his shirt soaked through his shirt.

He carried Cas to the Impala, and drove back home, settling the boy that had fallen asleep in his own room instead of Cas’ designated room, before going to where the others were gathered.

“What took you so long?” Pamela asked. “How’s Cas?”

“About that…” Dean recounted what happened before ending in an angry tone. “I don’t know what those teachers said exactly but we are changing Cas’ school ASAP!”

“Calm down Dean-”

“Calm down?!” Jo yelled. “Ma, did you not hear what the teachers did to Cas?!”

“Yeah but you can’t just take him out of the school. We are not his official family!” Ellen retorted.

“Ellen and I will go to school tomorrow and talk to them about this. And in the meantime, everybody keeps their cool.”

“Fine, I am waking him up and feeding him dinner before cuddling the fuck out of the little man.” Ash stood up determined. “Nobody dare mess with the boy!”

As dinner continued, Dean told Bobby and Ellen about his extra lessons and therefore not being able to pick up Cas, to which Cas apologized but was quickly chided by Bobby for being too formal and stating he will pick Cas up tomorrow after a nice chat with the teachers.

Chapter Text

Dean dropped everyone at their school and made sure to walk Castiel in and glare at his teachers, stating that Bobby and Ellen will be coming to discuss what had happened the previous day, before leaving.

Reaching class, he met with his friends and started chatting until one of them asked. “Heard you haven’t been visiting the roof as often as you used to.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked. “I didn’t go yesterday… that’s all.”

“Exactly. That’s less than usual.” His friend laughed. “The girls are starving, Romeo.”

Dean scoffed, leaning back against his chair. “Oh, come on, I take one day off, and suddenly it's a crisis?”

His friend, Gordon, raised an eyebrow. “One day? Dude, you used to be up there every lunch period, schmoozing it up with the girls like it was your life’s mission. Now? You barely even look at them. It may be one day, but that’s enough of a change to notice,”

“Maybe I’m just busy,” Dean shrugged, nonchalant.

“Nah, that ain’t it.” Gordon studied him, tapping a pencil against his notebook. “You’re acting different, man. You used to walk into school like you owned the place, all cocky and charming. Now you’re, I don’t know… distracted.”

Another one of their friends, Lisa, leaned in, smirking. “I think our boy’s finally growing up.”

Dean snorted. “Growing up? Please.”

“Then what is it?” Lisa pressed. “You got a secret girlfriend or something?”

Dean rolled his eyes, feigning exasperation. “Yup, you got me. Totally settled down. White picket fence and everything.”

“Seriously, though,” Gordon continued. “Something’s up. You always had time for this kind of thing before. What changed?”

Dean hesitated for a fraction of a second, his mind flickering back to Cas—his tiny, serious face staring up at him, the way he had clung to his jacket after Dean found him in the sandbox. The way his voice had cracked when he asked Dean to take him back to his mom.

It wasn’t like he had stopped caring about girls or his usual fun. But something about all that felt… less important now.

He didn’t want to explain it, though. Didn't even know how to.

So he smirked, leaning back in his chair with his usual swagger. “Relax, fellas. I’ll be back to breaking hearts in no time. Just got other stuff on my mind.”

Lisa and Gordon exchanged glances, unconvinced, but they let it go.

“Alright, man,” Gordon said, shaking his head. “Just don’t go all soft on us.”

Dean chuckled, but as he turned back toward the front of the class, he found himself staring out the window instead, lost in thought.

Soft. Maybe. But for the first time in a long time, he didn’t really mind.

-x-

Sonny clapped his hands together, stretching his back after leaning over the desk for the past hour. “And that ends our extra lesson for today ,” he said with a satisfied nod, his tone making it clear that this was just the beginning.

Dean groaned, rubbing his temples. “Man, you say that like it’s a good thing.”

Sonny smirked. “It is a good thing. You actually focused today.” He leaned against the desk, arms crossed. “For the first time, you weren’t distracted or thinking about skirts.”

Dean scoffed, shaking his head. “Come on, Sonny, you make it sound like that’s all I do.”

Sonny raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t it?”

Dean opened his mouth to protest but stopped himself, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “Alright, fine. Maybe a little.”

Sonny chuckled, then softened. “Seriously, though, I’m proud of you, kid. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders when you actually use it. You just gotta stop running from your own potential.”

Dean rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. He drummed his fingers against the desk, then glanced up. “You ever, I dunno… just feel like maybe you’re supposed to be thinking about something else?”

Sonny tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

Dean shifted in his seat. “I dunno. Just… priorities changing, I guess. Stuff that felt important before doesn’t seem so big now.”

Sonny studied him for a moment, then nodded. “That’s called growing up, kid.”

Dean huffed. “Great. Sounds like a trap.”

Sonny laughed. “Not a trap, just part of life. And from what I can see, you’re heading in the right direction.” He patted Dean’s shoulder. “Now, get outta here before I decide to quiz you on fractions.”

Dean groaned dramatically, grabbing his books. “Ugh, you’re evil.”

Sonny smirked. “You’ll thank me someday.”

Dean rolled his eyes but grinned. He already does thank the man for never giving up and always seeing a chance in him. And one day, he will rise to the potential.

-x-

“So how did the teacher’s meeting go? What were they saying about the little man?” Ash asked, munching his dinner and ruffling Cas’ hair who sat there like an annoyed cat.

“How about we eat and then discuss later?” Ellen asked, subtly hinting she would like to talk about it when Cas wasn’t here to speak. Unfortunately, the little boy was too grown for his age.

“It’s okay, Ellen. I don’t mind hearing your recount.” The boy said, slurping a strand of spaghetti.

“Well the boy himself gave permission, so go on!” Pamela jumped. “Did you punch em?!”

“No, and we don’t punch people!” Bobby said sternly, maintaining eye contact with all the kids at the table as a warning.

“Eh, they deserved it though!” Jo whined.

“You don’t even know what was said in the meeting.” Sam retorted.

“Children, quiet down and let Ellen and Bobby speak.” Dean shook his head. “Learn from Cas!” He said, throwing a smile at the boy who returned it with a small smile of his own.

Ellen sighed, setting down her fork. “Alright, since the little man himself doesn’t mind hearing it, here’s what happened.” She exchanged a glance with Bobby before continuing. “The teachers were gossiping amongst each other in the staff room assuming Castiel was in the classroom playing with the blocks they had set out. But Castiel heard it and of course ran away because what the teachers did was insensitive.”

“Don’t think you are in trouble, little man!” Ash reassured the little boy who nodded.

“His teacher was quick to apologize for how they handled things. Said they hadn’t realized how serious the situation was until Bobby laid it all out for them.”

Bobby grunted. “Damn right they didn’t. Told ‘em straight—any kid in our family gets treated with respect, no exceptions. And if they can’t guarantee that, they’ll be hearing from me again.”

Cas, still twirling his spaghetti, looked up. “Did they say anything about the boy who took my books?”

“Woah what?” Dean asked. “Who took your books? When did that happen?!”

“Today.” Cas replied. “He was very mean. Said I didn’t need the books and he needed it more. But they were mine! He returned it back but I would like it not to happen again.”

Ellen softened, reaching over to brush a crumb off Cas’ cheek. “Yeah, sweetheart. They promised they’d have a word with him and make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Ash snorted. “Pfft. A word? Like that’s gonna do anything.”

Sam laughed softly as he said. “It better, or else they’ll be havin’ a word with Bobby.”

Jo grumbled as she shoveled some bread. “I hope they’re actually doing something about it. Both about gossiping and books.”

Ellen nodded. “They claim they are. We’ll see if they follow through. If not, we’ll step in.”

Pamela leaned back, crossing her arms. “Still think a good right hook would’ve gotten the message across faster.”

“Pam.” Bobby’s voice carried a warning.

She smirked. “I’m just saying.”

Dean chuckled, shaking his head before glancing at Cas. “How you feeling about it, buddy?”

Cas chewed thoughtfully, then wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I think it’s good that they acknowledged their mistake. But if it happens again, I’ll handle it myself.”

A chorus of voices immediately spoke over each other.

“Oh no, no, no—”
“Now hold on a second—”
“Kid, what’s that supposed to mean?”

Cas blinked at them, unfazed. “I simply mean that I will be more prepared. Perhaps keep my books in my bag instead of on my desk. Or speak back to the teachers when they are insensitive.”

Dean exhaled, relieved. “Okay, good. Because for a second there, I thought you were about to join Pam in the ‘punch-first’ club.”

Cas shook his head, completely serious. “No. Violence is rarely the answer.”

“See, now why can’t you all be more like Cas?” Dean gestured at the rest of the kids, giving him a proud smirk.

Jo made a face. “Because we’re normal?”

Cas tilted his head. “That’s debatable.”

Ash nearly choked on his drink laughing, while Sam covered his mouth to stifle a grin.

Ellen sighed but smiled, ruffling Cas’ hair. “Alright, alright, enough talk about school. Finish up your food before it gets cold.”

Dean nudged Cas playfully. “You’re pretty sharp, little man.”

Cas met his gaze, eyes warm. “I learn from the best.”

Dean didn’t know why, but something about that made his chest tighten—just a little.

Chapter Text

"No, no, no, no, NO!!!"

Dean practically collapsed onto his knees in front of the Impala, hands clutching at the hood like he could physically will it back to life. His face twisted in agony as he ran a hand over the sleek black metal, his voice breaking.

"Baby, no!!"

The door to the house swung open with a loud creak, and Bobby’s voice rang out, laced with equal parts irritation and exhaustion. "Yah idjit! Why the hell you so loud this early in the morning?!"

Dean whipped around, eyes wild. "She’s dead, Bobby! Dead!" He threw himself forward, hugging the hood of the Impala. "Baby’s dead!"

From inside the house, a chair scraped across the floor. A second later, Jo came sprinting out onto the porch, panic in her eyes. "What?! I have to WALK to school?!"

"You have legs, Jo," Sam deadpanned, stepping out behind her, but he quickly switched to his own dramatics. "But I have long hair! I am always okay with walking home, but if I walk to school, I’m gonna get all sweaty and my hair’s gonna frizz like a poodle!"

Ash, still in his boxers and a half-buttoned shirt, scratched his head sleepily. "Dr. Badass doesn’t mind walking." He yawned. "I approve of this healthy lifestyle."

Dean shot up, pointing at them all. "You heathens don’t understand! This isn’t about you ! This is about Baby ! My one true love! She’s gone!" Dean clutched his chest as if he, too, had suffered a fatal wound.

Sam opened his mouth, and chaos ensued. Each of them yelling about one thing or another. Cas had taken refuge behind Bobby’s leg as he asked “Is this normal?”

“I’m afraid so kiddo.” Bobby sighed defeted, removing his baseball cap just as Pamela came out.

“All of you! Quiet!” She yelled. “It’s too early to deal with you dumbasses and I am not in the mood.” She then turned to each one of them. “Jo, you got legs. Stop being lazy and be active for once. Sam? Don’t be a diva and pack yourself a deodrant and comb if needed. And Ash? Go get dressed!”

Bobby had left, happy Pamela had taken over managing the chaos while Cas still stood there, intrigued to know what was gonna happen next.

"Now, all of you—“ She grabbed their attention. “march your asses inside, sit down, and eat the damn breakfast that Ellen worked so hard to make. Or I will personally make sure you regret it."

A long beat of silence. Then—

"Yes, ma’am," the whole group mumbled, shuffling toward the house like scolded children.

Pamela smirked, shaking her head. "That’s what I thought. Chop-chop!"

Cas lingered for a moment, glancing at Dean, who still looked betrayed by the universe. With a small sigh, he walked up to him and gently patted his arm. "I’m sorry for your loss."

Dean let out a defeated groan. "At least you get it, buddy."

And with that, they all trudged back inside, ready to face the day—whether they liked it or not.

-x-

Dean and Cas walked side by side. The others had already gone ahead, but Cas had naturally fallen into step with him, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and so Dean decided to drop the boy off first before heading to his own school.

Dean shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, letting out a dramatic sigh. "Man, this sucks. I hate walking."

Cas tilted his head up at him, eyes sharp beneath his messy dark hair. "Your legs seem to be working just fine."

Dean shot him a look. " That’s not the point, smartass. Baby’s supposed to be my ride . She’s supposed to get me where I need to go, like a damn loyal steed. And now she’s just—" He made an explosive gesture. " Dead. "

Cas hummed in acknowledgment. "She was your father’s car before she was yours."

Dean blinked, taken aback. " Yeah … how’d you know that?"

"You talk about her differently than you talk about other cars," Cas said matter-of-factly. "You’re sentimental about her. You don’t just like her—you need her. She’s not just transportation; she’s a connection."

Dean hesitated, shifting his weight as that pang of recognition settled in his chest. He didn’t like how easily Cas could see through him like that. The kid had this weird way of digging under his skin, unearthing things Dean barely even admitted to himself.

He cleared his throat. "Yeah, well. Baby's the only thing—besides Sammy—I got left from my folks. Dad had her before I was even born. Fixed her up himself. I grew up in that car, you know? Used to ride in the back while he drove me and Sam around." He gave a half-hearted shrug. "Feels like if I lose her, I lose another piece of them."

Cas was quiet for a moment, then reached into his pocket. When his small hand came back out, it was holding a tiny plush angel.

Dean frowned. "What’s that?"

"My angel," Cas said simply. "I’ve had it since I was little. Since my mother and father were still together." He looked down at it, brushing his fingers over the soft fabric. "It’s one of the only things I still have from when they were both in my life. When everything was… whole."

Dean glanced at Cas, at the way he held the plush like it was something sacred. And for the first time, he really thought about what it must be like—to be eight years old and already know what it meant to lose something big.

"Guess we both got our things, huh?" Dean said, softer now.

Cas nodded, tucking the angel back into his pocket. "Yes. But yours is broken."

Dean barked out a laugh. "Gee, thanks for that, buddy."

Cas tilted his head again, that little wrinkle forming between his brows like he was thinking too hard. "I think you are afraid of things breaking."

Dean almost tripped. " What ?"

Cas kept walking, unbothered. "You don’t like losing things. You pretend you don’t care, but you hold onto everything that means something to you. Even when it hurts."

Dean opened his mouth, then closed it, feeling that sharp pang settle deeper in his chest. He shook his head, forcing a smirk. "Kid, you ever think about going into psychology? 'Cause you sound like you’re reading me like a damn book."

Cas just looked up at him, calm and steady. "It’s not hard to read something when it’s written all over the pages."

Dean huffed. "Yeah, well, quit reading. It’s creepy."

Cas just hummed again, unfazed, and they walked the rest of the way together in easy silence.

-x-

Dean lingered outside the school gates as Cas walked ahead, not even waving back at him like the others were doing to their parents - some even clinging to their parents. But Cas just walked on, striding like he owned the place. The kid was ridiculous.

And maybe a little too good at getting into his head.

Dean exhaled sharply, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets as he turned toward his own school. The walk wasn’t far, but it felt longer with nothing but his own thoughts to keep him company.

"You don’t like losing things. You pretend you don’t care, but you hold onto everything that means something to you. Even when it hurts."

Cas had said it so simply, like it was a fact—like it was just true . And the thing that really got Dean?

It was .

Because what the hell else was he doing?

He flirted, he hooked up, he played the role of the easygoing, charming guy who never got too close. It was fun. Simple. People liked him, and he liked being liked. It was a distraction.

But attachment ? Real, deep, meaningful connection? That was a whole different ball game.

Dean had learned early— nothing lasts .

His dad was gone. His mom, she’d been gone before he even knew her. And sure, he had Bobby, Ellen, Sammy, Jo, Ash, Pamela… A whole family that had somehow stuck around. But there was always this nagging fear in the back of his mind that one day, something would happen. That it would all just… end .

Maybe that’s why he played things the way he did. Keep it light, keep it easy. Never stick around long enough for someone to expect something from him.

Never stick around long enough to get hurt.

Dean kicked a loose rock on the sidewalk, watching as it skittered across the pavement.

But then there was Cas.

This little kid who showed up out of nowhere, who talked like he was older than he was, who saw through Dean’s bullshit like he was reading an open book.

And the weird part? Dean didn’t hate it.

Cas got it.

Sure, he was just a kid, but he knew what it was like to lose things. To feel like something was missing. To have someone taken from you before you even knew how to hold on.

And now, even surrounded by all these people, by his family, Dean still had moments where he felt… alone.

He wondered if Cas felt the same way.

Dean sighed, shaking his head.

It was way too early for this kind of soul-searching.

But damn if that kid wasn’t getting under his skin.

Chapter Text

With Baby under surgery, Dean and Cas made the trek to their respective schools each day, walking side by side. It was the kind of routine that felt normal, even though Dean couldn't remember the last time he’d had something that resembled normal.

“Did you know that your attachment to certain foods could actually be linked to your personality traits?” Cas asked one morning, his hands tucked behind his back as they walked down the sidewalk.

Dean shot him a side glance, raising an eyebrow. “You psychoanalyzing me again, kid?”

Cas gave a slight shrug. “It’s not my fault you act like you do. If you eat junk food all the time, maybe it’s because you don’t value your health as much as you think you do.”

Dean snorted. “I’m not a psychologist, but I know enough to say that you’re full of it.” He nudged Cas with his elbow, trying to get a rise out of him. “Besides, I eat burgers because they’re delicious. No hidden meaning there.”

Cas giggled quietly at Dean’s words. “Well, if you insist. But if you really dig deep enough into your habits, you might uncover more than you’d like.”

Dean chuckled. “I think you’re confusing me with someone who has time for all that introspection. I’ve got a busy life, Cas. Maybe you should stick to analyzing your action figures.”

Cas tilted his head. “I find it interesting that you say you don’t have time. People like you always find time for the things that matter most to them.”

Dean slowed his pace, glancing at Cas thoughtfully. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Cas didn’t hesitate. “It means that you care more than you want to admit, Dean. About people. About things. You’re just afraid of losing them.”

Dean rolled his eyes and gave an exaggerated sigh. “Is this what my mornings are gonna be like now? Getting psychoanalyzed by an eight-year-old?”

Cas simply smiled, unfazed by Dean’s mock frustration. “You’d be surprised what I know.”

The rest of their walk to school was quieter, but still comfortable. They talked about favorite foods—Dean insisting that nothing beat a beautifully crafted pie, while Cas argued that honey was, in fact, the superior food (he had a point, Dean had to admit). They exchanged meaningless banter that, for some reason, felt important.

When they reached the entrance to Dean’s school, he put a hand on Cas’s shoulder. “Alright, kid. This is where we part ways. You be good, okay?”

Cas nodded seriously, then offered a small, crooked smile. “You too, Dean.”

Dean returned the smile, albeit a little more awkwardly than he’d intended. “I’ll catch you later, buddy.”

-x-

As Dean walked into the school, a familiar gaggle of girls surrounded him, Lydia at the forefront. Her smile was wide and expectant.

“Dean!” she greeted him, like they were best friends, though they’d never had more than a couple of casual conversations. And a one time hookup accompanied by a pregnancy scare.

“Hey,” Dean said, trying to be polite, but not feeling particularly interested in engaging.

One of the girls, Rachel, eyed him with curiosity. “So, about the kid you were with this morning... who was that?”

Dean shot them a look, trying to shut it down before it turned into something awkward. “None of your business.”

But they didn’t let it go.

“You know, I saw you holding his hand,” Lydia added, a playful edge in her voice. “Is he, like, your little brother or something?”

Dean could feel his patience wearing thin, but he didn’t want to make a scene. “I said it’s none of your business. Drop it.”

The girls didn’t seem to take the hint, leaning in closer, their questions getting more and more insistent. They huddled around Dean as he settled in at his desk, persistent as ever to get something from him.

Finally, Lisa stepped in. “Alright, Lydia, leave him alone. Geez, can't a guy walk to school without getting interrogated?” She shot a glare at the others, effectively silencing them.

Dean gave her a grateful nod. “Thanks, Lisa. You know how it is. They  like to gossip.”

Lydia wasn’t pleased with being shut down so easily, but she didn’t press further. “Whatever. You’re a hard one to crack, Dean.” She tossed a playful wink before the group of girls scattered off, giggling.

Gordon, who had been lurking nearby, chimed in from the sidelines. “Who’s the kid, Dean? He seems pretty close to you.”

Dean didn’t even turn to look at him. “None of your business either, Gordon.”

But Gordon wasn’t satisfied with that. Dean could feel his gaze burning into the back of his head, could almost hear the wheels turning as Gordon dug deeper.

There was always something about Gordon. Something about the way he always wanted to know more . Not content with surface-level bullshit, always peeling back the layers, always poking at things people weren’t ready to share. It was one of the reasons Dean kept his distance, because Gordon had a way of finding out things—whether Dean wanted him to or not.

The thing about Gordon was, he didn’t have to say much. He’d just give that look. That look that made you feel like you had a target on your back. It was the same look he gave people when he thought he had the upper hand, when he thought he knew something you didn’t want him to know.

Dean’s jaw clenched. He could feel the tension creeping up his neck as he tried to ignore him, but it was hard. Gordon wasn’t the type to back down, not when he was onto something.

Dean kept his head down, hoping that if he ignored it long enough, Gordon would get bored and go back to whatever stupid thing he was doing. But the guy didn’t take hints. Not like that.

“Come on, Dean,” Gordon pressed. “It’s obvious you two are tight. Are you his... big brother or something?”

Dean’s mind raced, trying to figure out the best way to shut this down. He didn’t want to deal with this now, not in the middle of school, not with all these people watching. But the more Gordon pushed, the more Dean felt that familiar mix of irritation and unease building inside him.

Dean didn’t respond right away, not trusting himself to say something that wouldn’t make the situation worse. He could feel his patience thinning, the urge to snap rising in his chest. But instead, he just stood up, ignoring Gordon’s probing eyes, and moved toward his next class.

He could hear Gordon calling after him, his voice insistent, but Dean didn’t care. He was done with this conversation. Done with Gordon, done with the questions, done with the prying eyes. He didn’t owe anyone an explanation.

Still, as he walked away, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Gordon wasn’t going to let it go. That this would come back up. Because it always did with guys like him—once they caught a whiff of something, they wouldn’t stop until they’d dragged it all out into the open.

Dean had dealt with it enough times to know that this wasn’t the end. And that thought alone made him want to get out of the room faster, to just escape, before Gordon—or anyone else—could dig any deeper.

-x-

The rest of the day was a blur of classes—mostly uneventful except for a few surprising moments. Dean noticed that a couple of his teachers had seemed more attentive to him lately, which was unusual. Maybe his progress due to Sonny’s coaching was making them see the potential in him.

When he arrived at Sonny’s after school, he was expecting the usual routine. But Sonny seemed… off.

Dean raised an eyebrow as he walked into the studio. “Hey, everything alright, Sonny?”

Sonny glanced up from his desk, looking flustered. “Oh, hey Dean. Yeah, no... uh, Raincheck on our session today. I’m kind of in a bind with the house.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking genuinely stressed.

“Everything okay? You need help with something?” Dean asked in concern.

Sonny gave a half-hearted laugh. “Well, uh, the basement is flooded. Plumbing issues. You know, the usual annoying crap.”

Dean chuckled, shaking his head. “Man, that sucks. Best of luck with that. You need any help? I can pitch in.”

Sonny waved him off, looking more frustrated than anything. “Nah, it’s all good. Just gotta call a plumber, but it’s just a hassle.”

Dean gave him a smile and clapped him on the shoulder. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it. You’ll get it handled.”

As he turned to leave, Dean paused. “Hey, mind if I use your phone real quick?” He gestured to the landline.

Sonny, clearly in a rush, nodded absently. “Go ahead.See you tomorrow.”

Dean quickly dialed Bobby’s number, then grinned as Bobby picked up. “Hey, it’s Dean. Just wanted to let you know, I’ll grab Cas after school. No need to worry about it.”

He hung up and stuffed the phone back in its place before heading to pick up Cas.

Dean arrived at the school just as the bell rang, signaling the end of the day. Cas was standing outside, chatting with a few of his classmates. As soon as he saw Dean, his face lit up, though he quickly masked it with a practiced indifference.

“Dean,” Cas said coolly, like having him pick him up wasn’t a big deal.

The other kids seemed curious, asking questions about Dean, but Cas didn’t give them time to probe further. “Come on,” he said, grabbing his bag and rushing toward Dean.

Dean grinned, already feeling a sense of warmth spread through him. “What’s up, kid? You’re excited to see me or what?”

Cas gave him a sidelong look, not answering directly but clearly pleased to be leaving school. As they walked home together, the world seemed to fade into the background. It was just the two of them, strolling down the sidewalk, sharing a quiet, peaceful moment.

And for once, Dean didn’t mind the silence. It felt… right.

Chapter Text

The bell rang, signaling the end of first period, and Dean shuffled out of the classroom, already planning his next move. It was the new usual routine—grab a snack from the vending machine, meet up with Lisa, maybe catch a quick conversation with Sonny between classes. But as he rounded the corner of the hall, something felt different today.

He saw them—Gordon and his usual posse of girls huddled together in the corner, talking in low voices, their eyes flicking over to him every so often. This had been happening for the past few days, ever since they interrogated him. 

Dean tried to brush it off, chalking it up to some silly gossip, but the way they kept glancing at him felt… off. There was something about the way they were whispering, and it made him uneasy.

Dean's fingers gripped the straps of his backpack a little tighter as he passed them. But it wasn’t just them—it was the girls. They weren’t just chatting anymore. They were looking at him differently. Their glances lingered for a second too long, followed by hushed giggles. He didn’t have to be a genius to know what they were talking about.

"...child… Cas?"

Dean tried to ignore it, trying to focus on getting through the day without letting his thoughts wander to that conversation, but it was impossible. The whispers followed him between classes, growing louder, clearer.

"I heard he's been skipping lunch to hang out with that weird kid," one of the girls murmured as Dean passed by, barely loud enough for him to hear.

He shook his head, trying to push away the mounting frustration. Dean kept walking, shoulders tense, eyes fixed straight ahead.

"Dean," a familiar voice called from behind him, and he turned to find Lisa approaching, her brow furrowed with concern.

"Everything okay?" she asked, her gaze flicking back toward the group of girls. "You look… off."

A tight smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "Just the usual, I guess." Dean waved a hand dismissively, but Lisa wasn't buying it.

"They're at it again, huh?" she asked softly. "Ignore them, Dean. Honestly, you’ve got bigger things to worry about than what they say," Lisa said with a supportive smile.

Dean let out a sigh, and hesitated before adding, "But still… it’s annoying."

Lisa nodded knowingly. "I get it. But you don’t need to prove anything to them. I’m on your side, okay?” She shot him a look. "No matter what they say."

For a moment, Dean just looked at her—grateful, but still on edge. She was right, of course. It shouldn’t matter what they thought, but it was annoying. Why did they care what was going on in his life?! 

He had a lot of things to worry about, and the judgment of some classmates shouldn’t be one of them. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it. The last few days, something had felt… different. And it wasn’t just the whispers. They know Cas’ name now.

“Yeah,” he muttered, forcing a smile, “I’ll try not to let it get to me.”

Lisa gave him a reassuring pat on the arm before they continued down the hall together. But as Dean walked, his mind kept returning to the whispers, and to the kid who had been part of his life in ways he couldn’t fully explain. 

The fact that he was so bothered by these people’s opinions only confirmed one thing: he cared more about Cas than he wanted to admit.

-x-

Dean was on his way back home, turning the corner near the schoolyard and being assaulted by the familiar sight of Gordon and the girls. Ew…

Dean rolled his eyes, just about to pass them when he froze. His stomach dropped as his gaze caught on a small figure in the center of the group.

It was Cas.

Dean’s heart skipped a beat. Cas was surrounded, standing there, head down, shoulders hunched in that way that always made Dean’s gut twist. It was the same look he’d seen too many times—a look of someone trying to shrink into themselves, trying to be as small as possible so they wouldn’t be noticed.

Except they noticed him. Gordon and the girls were badgering him, their words sharp, biting, cruel.

"You're a burden," Lydia sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. "You don't belong here."

Dean felt his jaw clench, but he couldn’t move. The words came too fast. Rachel piped up, her tone just as cruel, "Dean’s losing his edge because of you."

"Yeah," Gordon added, a sick smile on his face as he took a step closer to Cas. "Dean’s too busy babysitting you to have any real friends. No one likes you, especially Dean."

Enough was enough. What the hell where they thinking bullying a kid half their age?!

"Hey!" Dean’s voice rang out, louder than he intended. His heart pounded in his chest as he moved towards the group. "What the hell is wrong with you people?"

The group of girls looked up at him in surprise, as if they hadn’t expected him to be the one to speak up. Gordon’s smirk faltered, but he didn’t step back.

"You're not my friends," Dean snapped, his voice low and dangerous. "None of you are. If you were, you wouldn't be treating him like this." He glanced down at Cas, who was still standing there, frozen, his eyes downcast, his lips trembling with unshed tears.

“Come on, Dean.” Lydia said, twirling her hair. “We are doing this for your own good!”

Dean’s anger flared even more at those words. He turned back to face the group, protective instincts kicking into overdrive. "If you think for one second that you’re gonna get away with this shit, you’ve got another thing coming," he added furiously.

He pointed at each of them. "So here’s the deal: Get lost. Now. And don’t ever come near him or me ever again. Got it?"

The girls exchanged uncomfortable glances under Dean’s glare. Gordon, still trying to act tough, puffed out his chest. "Or what?" he challenged, but his voice wasn’t as steady as before.

Dean’s eyes narrowed. "Or I’ll make sure the entire school knows what kind of pathetic bullies you are. Picking on a kid half your age." He took a menacing step closer. "You’re not friends to me, and you’re sure as hell have no rights over my personal life. So get the hell out of here before I make you."

The group hesitated, but slowly, one by one, they began to back off, retreating down the street. Dean’s chest heaved as he didn’t take his eyes off of them until they were gone.

He finally turned to Cas, who was still standing there, rooted to the spot, a faint tremble running through his body. Dean’s protective instincts surged even stronger, and he closed the distance in a few long strides, reaching out to gently grab Cas by the shoulders.

"Hey, you alright?" Dean’s voice softened, his anger ebbing away, replaced by something gentler.

Cas looked up at him, those wide blue eyes still filled with confusion and a hint of fear. His lips trembled as he opened his mouth, but no words came out. Instead, his eyes welled up, and the sight hit Dean harder than he expected. The kid was hurting.

Without thinking, Dean pulled him into a tight hug, enveloping him in a way that felt natural, almost like he’d been doing it for years. Cas stiffened for a moment but then relaxed into the embrace, his face burying into Dean’s shoulder as he finally let himself cry.

Dean squeezed him tighter, holding on like he never wanted to let go. His heart ached for the kid. It wasn’t fair. None of it was.

Right now, his main focus was to make sure Cas knew that he was safe, that he was loved. Dean pulled back, keeping his hands on Cas’s shoulders. He looked him in the eye and gave him a small, reassuring smile. "Come on. Let’s get you home."

And without another word, Dean lifted Cas into his arms, carrying him the rest of the way home.

Chapter Text

By the time Dean reached the house, Cas still curled into his arms, he could tell something was wrong. The second he stepped onto the porch, the door flew open, and Pamela burst out, her face stricken with worry before melting into sheer relief.

“Oh, thank god,” she exhaled, rushing forward. “You found him.”

Cas barely had time to register what was happening before Pamela pulled him from Dean’s arms, hugging him so tightly it looked like she was trying to piece him back together.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you, kiddo,” she murmured, smoothing down his hair as she pressed a kiss to the top of his head. She held him close, and despite everything, Cas didn’t pull away.

She didn’t let go as she called into the house, picking up her phone, voice loud and urgent, “Ellen! Bobby! He’s home!”

The tension in Dean’s chest was still coiled tight, his heartbeat still hammering from the encounter with those bastards aka his classmates. He glanced around the house—Jo, Ash, and Sam were gathered in the living room, looking equally relieved but also… furious.

Dean frowned. “What the hell happened?”

Jo crossed her arms, her jaw tight. “Mom went to pick Cas up from school, but when she got there, he was gone.”

“What?” Dean’s stomach clenched.

Sam nodded, his expression serious. “Turns out after you surprised him by showing up for pick-up, people started talking. Kids at school figured out Cas was living here, and they—” He hesitated, glancing at Cas, still trembling in Pamela’s hold. “They weren’t nice about it.”

Dean’s blood ran cold. “What do you mean?”

Ash leaned back against the couch, uncharacteristically grim. “Apparently, some kids started running their mouths. Told Cas a bunch of crap—how Ellen and Pamela are sisters, how Ellen and Bobby are actually Jo and my parents. How you and Sam are real siblings, and that Cas being here was just because his mom dumped him. They said it was stupid for him to be around and that he should stop bothering the family.”

Dean felt a surge of white-hot rage. He clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned white. “Are you kidding me?”

Cas let out a tiny sniffle, and Dean turned to see him gripping Pamela’s sleeve, his little hands curled tight into the fabric.

Jo’s expression darkened. “So, Cas left. Just walked out of the school.”

Dean swallowed thickly, glancing at Cas. He had been holding all of this in. Of course he had.

“When Ellen got there,” Sam continued, “the teachers told her Cas had gone missing again. Some stuff had apparently gone down in class, but when Ellen asked why no one stepped in, they shrugged it off. Said they didn’t know it was happening.”

Dean saw red. “Are you freaking serious?”

“I told you we should have given that mean right hook the first time they were careless!” Pamela growled.

Jo scoffed, shaking her head. “Mom was pissed . Called Dad and told him to get down there so he could rip into them while she went looking for Cas.”

Dean exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. “Jesus.”

Sam looked at him now, eyes sharp with concern. “How did you find him?”

Before Dean could answer, the front door swung open again, and Ellen and Bobby stepped inside, looking just as furious as Dean felt. Ellen’s gaze immediately landed on Cas, and her face softened. “Oh, honey.”

Cas barely had time to react before she crossed the room and pulled him from Pamela’s arms into her own, holding him as if she was afraid he might disappear again. Bobby stepped in right after, rubbing Cas’s back, his voice a quiet rumble. “We were worried sick, kid.”

Cas curled into Ellen’s embrace, his fingers gripping onto her shirt like a lifeline.

Dean cleared his throat, still tense. “I found him with Gordon and those damn girls from school.”

Ellen pulled back just enough to meet Dean’s gaze. “What happened?”

Dean exhaled, trying to keep his temper in check. “I guess Cas was trying to keep himself away from his own classmates, but then my so-called classmates decided to jump in too.” His voice grew tighter, the anger slipping through. “They were saying crap like I’m losing my edge because of him. That I’m losing friends because of him.”

A muscle in Bobby’s jaw twitched. “Those sons of—”

“They told him I didn’t even like him,” Dean added, his voice rough. “And that’s when I lost it.”

Cas flinched at that, but Dean didn’t let the words sit. He crouched down in front of him, resting a hand on his knee. “Cas. I need you to listen to me, alright?”

Cas blinked at him, blue eyes still shimmering with tears.

Dean’s voice was firm. “What they said was bullshit . Every single word of it.”

Cas sniffled, looking unsure.

“You are not a burden,” Ellen added, brushing a hand over Cas’s hair. “And you do belong here.”

Bobby nodded, his expression serious but warm. “Damn right, you do.”

Jo stepped in next, her voice just as strong. “You’re our family, Cas. Whether you like it or not.”

“Yeah,” Ash grinned, ruffling Cas’s hair. “You’re stuck with us now, kid.”

Pamela, still beside him, pressed another kiss to the top of his head. “We love you, sweetheart. Don’t let anyone make you think otherwise.”

Cas’s lip wobbled, his small hands gripping Ellen’s shirt tighter. His face was still crumpled with the weight of everything, but for the first time since Dean found him, something shifted in his eyes.

Something like hope .

Cas let out a tiny, broken sound, and then he was crying again—except this time, it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t the quiet, hopeless sobs from earlier. This was different.

This was release .

“We got you, baby. We got you.” Pamela rocked him gently, whispering soft reassurances

“Family doesn’t end in blood, kiddo.” Bobby rested a steadying hand on Cas’ back.

Dean swallowed past the lump in his throat.

For the first time in who knows how long , Cas wasn’t alone. He himself was not alone.

And this time, he never would be.

Chapter Text

The decision had already been made—Cas would stay home today. No more dealing with the little brats at school, at least for now. Bobby and Ellen had talked it over and agreed it was for the best, and honestly, no one had argued.

Cas stood near the doorway, drowning in Dean’s sweater (oversized for Cas), barefoot on the wood floor, watching as everyone grabbed their backpacks and jackets. His hands were curled around the sleeves, the fabric bunched up past his wrists like he was trying to make himself smaller.

Jo went first. She wasn’t the sentimental type, but she still patted his shoulder firmly, like she was passing him strength.

Ash ruffled his hair, grinning. "Don’t miss me too much, little dude."

Sam, being Sam, crouched slightly so he was at Cas’ eye level. "We’ll be back before you know it," he said softly, and before Cas could react, Sam pulled him in for a quick, awkward hug.

Pamela, on her way out, planted a loud, smacking kiss on Cas' forehead. "Hold down the fort, kid."

Dean watched as Cas tried not to look disappointed at being left behind. It was subtle—just a shift in his expression, a quick glance toward Bobby and Ellen like he was checking if maybe they’d change their minds.

Ellen must’ve noticed too because she brushed a hand through Cas’ hair, the way a mother does when she doesn’t quite have the words.

Bobby, ever the gruff one, clapped a heavy hand on Cas’ shoulder. "You take it easy today, ya hear? None of that moping around like a kicked puppy."

Cas nodded, though he still wasn’t smiling.

Dean lingered the longest before heading out. "Don’t get too comfortable," he said, nudging Cas lightly on the arm. "You’re still doing my share of the chores."

Cas finally cracked a tiny smile. "You don’t do any chores."

Dean smirked. "Exactly."

With that, the family spilled out the door, leaving Cas standing there, small but not alone.

The drive to school was quieter than usual. It wasn’t outright sad, but there was an underlying feeling of something missing. Even the usual bickering between Jo and Ash was absent.

Dean drummed his fingers against the wheel, glancing at the rearview mirror. "You guys wanna be picked up today?"

There was a pause before Sam spoke up. "Yeah."

Jo and Ash nodded in agreement. Even Pamela, who usually hitched a ride with her own crowd, hummed in approval.

Dean didn’t say anything else. He just turned up the radio slightly and drove on, already thinking about what he was gonna do next.

After dropping everyone off, Pamela decided to hop out with Sam, opting to take public transport the rest of the way. Dean barely registered it, his grip tight on the wheel as he turned Baby in the direction of Cas’ school.

His foot pressed heavier on the gas than usual. His blood was still boiling.

-x-

Dean stalked through the school doors like he owned the place. He wasn’t a parent, but hell, he sure felt like one today. Cas might not be his kid, but he sure as hell was his responsibility.

The front office smelled like cheap coffee and disinfectant, and the secretary gave him a wary glance. “Can I help you?”

“I need to speak to Castiel Shurley’s teacher,” Dean said, voice low and firm.

A few minutes later, he was sitting across from Mr. Adler, and Mr. Metatron, the vice principal. They had that practiced, neutral expression that told him they were used to handling upset parents.

Dean wasted no time. “Cas isn’t in school today because of you,” he said, flat and direct. “Because this place let him get bullied until he didn’t want to come back.”

Mr. Adler sighed. “Mr. Winchester, I assure you, we had no idea Cas was struggling socially—”

Dean let out a short, humorless laugh. “You’re kidding, right?” He leaned forward. “Kid was getting picked on in your classroom, and you just missed it?”

“We do our best to foster an inclusive and supportive environment,” Mr. Metatron said, in that slow, measured way people do when they want you to calm down.

Dean gritted his teeth. “Your ‘supportive environment’ let an eight-year-old get torn to pieces by his classmates for no reason.”

“We’re very sorry Cas feels this way, but children can be unpredictable—”

Dean shot up from his chair. “Yeah, okay. Whatever.” He wasn’t gonna sit here and listen to more bullshit.

He turned on his heel, ready to leave, when a voice called out behind him.

"You're the person Castiel is staying with, right?"

Dean turned, eyebrows furrowing. A little girl stood there, ginger hair in neat curls, her hands folded behind her back.

Dean forced himself to calm down. "Yeah," he said carefully. "You a friend of his?"

She giggled. "No. Actually, I was the one who told everyone about him."

Dean blinked, unsure if he heard right. "...What?"

April—her nametag read—smiled wider. "Cas is weird," she said like it was the simplest thing in the world. "He talks funny, and he doesn’t know how to play normal. So I told everyone. Now no one likes him."

Dean stared.

She was eight. A kid. But for an eight-year-old, she was pretty damn nasty. And punchable...

His fingers curled into fists. He had never wanted to punch a child before.

April tilted her head. "Are you mad?"

Dean let out a slow breath through his nose. He was pissed. But what was he gonna do? Yell at her? What good would that do?

"No," he said finally. "I just feel sorry for you."

Her brow furrowed, confused. "Why?"

"'Cause you’re gonna grow up thinking being mean makes you special," Dean said, his voice quiet. "And one day, you’re gonna realize it just makes you lonely."

April scowled at that, her little face scrunching up. But Dean didn’t give her a chance to respond—he turned and walked out.

He stormed back to Baby, slamming the door shut behind him. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles went white.

He had no closure. No fix.

Was this her parents’ fault? Or was the kid just born mean?

Either way, Cas deserved better.

-x-

Lisa spotted Dean the moment he stepped onto school grounds, his shoulders tense, jaw locked like he was barely holding it together. She had been waiting by his locker, arms crossed, but as soon as she saw his face, she straightened.

“They did what?!” Lisa nearly shouted, eyes burning with rage, as Dean recounted what had happened this morning.

Dean huffed out a tired laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. Pathetic of them, huh?”

Lisa looked ready to explode. “I’ll show them bullying,” she snapped, spinning on her heel like she was about to march right down to the school herself and throw hands with a bunch of third-graders.

Dean caught her by the wrist before she could take off. “Whoa, whoa, okay, hold up.”

Lisa whirled on him. “No, seriously, Dean, what the hell? A bunch of little brats ganged up on Cas because some queen bee decided he was ‘weird’? And the teachers did nothing?!”

Dean sighed, shaking his head. “I know. Believe me, I know.”

Lisa's eyes narrowed. “Then why aren’t you doing anything?”

Dean ran a hand down his face. “Because what am I supposed to do, Lis? Yell at an eight-year-old? Rough up her dad?” He shook his head. “You can’t fight kids. You can’t make ‘em unlearn what their parents already taught ‘em.”

Lisa huffed, crossing her arms again. “That’s such bullshit, though. It’s not fair.”

Dean gave her a small, tired smirk. “Yeah, well, neither is life. And what’s worse is what our classmates did! Ganging up on a kid half their age!”

“Those sons of-” Lisa turned, her rage now directed towards her classmates but Dean stopped her once again, shaking his head.

“It’s not worth it, Lis.”

Lisa’s expression softened as she looked at him. “This is eating you up, isn’t it?”

Dean shrugged, trying to play it off. “Nah. Just another Tuesday.”

She didn’t buy it.

“Dean.”

He sighed, looking away.

“C’mon, we’re gonna be late.” Lisa said, not pushing it, but as they walked to class, Dean could feel her glancing at him every so often.

As they settled in class, Lisa gave him a reassuring smile before going to her seat.

For the first time in a while, Gordon and his little posse of fangirls didn’t bother him. No crude remarks, no jabs about Cas, no attempts to talk to him.

Dean should’ve felt relieved. Instead, he felt off. Like the world was just a little too quiet.

His mind wasn’t in class. He kept thinking about Cas—his big blue eyes full of hurt, the way he curled into himself like he was trying to disappear.

Every time he caught Lisa watching him, he forced a reassuring smile. She didn’t look convinced.

-x-

Dean was barely paying attention as he wiped down the tools in the after-school auto shop.

Sonny, his teacher and the closest thing he had to a mentor, wasn’t stupid.

“Alright, kid, what’s up?” Sonny asked, leaning against the workbench, arms crossed.

Dean blinked up at him. “Huh?”

Sonny gave him a look. “You’ve been standing there for five minutes, rubbing the same damn wrench. Either you’re hypnotized, or something’s eating you.”

Dean sighed, setting the wrench down.

Sonny waited.

After a moment, Dean muttered, “It’s Cas.”

Sonny didn’t react, just nodded for him to go on. He knew who Cas was - the little boy in the Singer’s house.

Dean ran a hand through his hair. “He was bullied. Like, bad. Kids picked on him, teachers did jack shit, and I—” He exhaled sharply. “I dunno, man. I don’t know how to fix it.”

Sonny hummed, thoughtful. “That’s the thing, isn’t it?”

Dean frowned. “What?”

Sonny leaned forward. “You think you gotta fix it.”

Dean stared. “Well… yeah?”

Sonny gave a small smile. “Kid, not everything can be ‘fixed.’ Some things you just gotta ride out.”

Dean scowled. “So I should just let Cas suffer?”

“No,” Sonny said firmly. “You should make sure he knows he doesn’t have to go through it alone.”

Dean looked down, rubbing his thumb over a grease stain on his hand.

Sonny continued, voice softer now. “Look, I know what it’s like to feel like you don’t belong. To feel like the whole world decided you don’t fit. But you wanna know what got me through?”

Dean glanced up.

Sonny smiled. “The people who stuck by me anyway.”

Something in Dean’s chest unclenched.

It wasn’t about fixing it. It was about making sure Cas knew he was wanted, that he had a family that loved him exactly as he was.

Dean straightened up. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

Sonny raised a brow. “That easy?”

Dean smirked. “No. But it helps.”

Sonny chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit, kid.”

And so, by the time he picked up Sam, Pamela, Jo, and Ash, his head was clearer.

Cas had been through a lot. And yeah, the world sucked sometimes, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t make it a little better for him.

So instead of focusing on the bad, Dean decided on something else.

“We should throw Cas a party,” he said as they got in the car.

Jo blinked. “Huh?”

“A party,” Dean repeated. “A ‘Cas is awesome, screw the haters’ kind of thing. Something fun.”

Ash grinned. “Hell yeah, I’m in.”

Sam beamed. “That’d be great! He’d love it.”

“We should plan fun activities and games and oh! Food!” Pamela added.

“Honey’s his favorite.” Dean said which got Jo to smirk.

“You’re a big softie, Winchester.”

Dean rolled his eyes but smiled. For the first time that day, he felt lighter.

Chapter Text

It was the weekend and Cas was sleeping his morning off as usual. Which worked well for Dean as he gathered everyone and prepared for the ‘party’ they were going to have for Cas. 

Sam and Jo quietly hung up streamers, making sure everything was just right. Ash fiddled with the radio, settling on a happy tune. Ellen worked on a honey pie to satisfy both Dean and Cas’ favorites while Bobby went to gather some supplies for a fun activity.

Dean had taken upon himself to make his speciality - burgers. For all the “health is important, Dean” talk Cas had, he was an avid fan of Dean’s burgers. And so he made them!

The last of the decorations went up just as the soft shuffle of footsteps approached from the hallway. Dean’s heart skipped a beat as Cas’ door creaked open, and the boy stumbled into the living room, blinking sleepily. 

The room fell silent, everyone holding their breath.

Cas’ gaze drifted from one person to the next, clearly puzzled by the unfamiliar scene. And then, before he could say anything, Dean couldn't help himself. He grinned like an idiot.

"Surprise!" Dean yelled, and before Cas could react, the entire family swarmed him in a tangle of hugs and ruffles.

Cas blinked rapidly, still holding his plushie, his brows furrowed in confusion. "What... what’s going on?" he mumbled, voice still thick with sleep.

Dean crouched down in front of him, giving him a wide grin. “We decided to do something special today, Cas. Something fun. Just for you.”

Bobby, standing off to the side with a bemused smirk, crossed his arms and let out a small chuckle. “Figured we’d do something out of the ordinary. You’ve been through a lot, kid.”

Cas stood there for a moment, blinking at the scene, before his face cracked into a smile. “I... I don’t know what to say.” His voice trembled slightly.

Dean patted him on the shoulder. “Say, ‘thank you,’ Cas.”

Cas chuckled, clutching his angel plushie a little tighter. “Thank you,” he muttered, finally feeling the warmth of the moment sink in.

“Now, come on kiddo, let’s get some food in you.” Dean smiled as he made his way to the kitchen.

Behind him, he heard Ellen tell Cas, “He planned all this for you. There is a special desert as well.”

“Now, now, we all contributed one way or another.” Dean rolled his eyes, preparing a plate for everyone.

“Yeah but you made us do it.” Sam retorted and the others agreed.

“Thank you Dean.” Cas said with a soft smile which melted Dean’s heart.

“No need, buddy.” Dean smiled back as he placed Cas’ plate in front of him. “Now eat your burger, Dean’s special.”

The lot saw as Cas’ eyes sparkled wide as he held the burger in his eyes, eager to eat the delicious food.

-x-

As the day progressed, and the family settled into their routines, something started to shift in Cas. The walls that had kept him reserved began to come down, and the quiet boy began to show a side of him that was, well… mischievous. 

It was as if all the joy, the fun, and the warmth of the surprise had unlocked something in him—a side that was more playful, more free.

And of course, it was all Dean could do to keep up.

"Hey, I’ll clean up," Cas volunteered, already gathering plates. Dean was about to argue, but the sight of Cas, looking so earnest, made him pause.

Cas grabbed the flour and carefully started putting it away, but as he opened the cupboard, he knocked over the bag—flour poofed out in a small cloud, dusting Cas from head to toe.

Dean turned to see the chaos, and his lips twitched into a smile. “Uh, Cas... that’s not quite how you clean up.”

Cas blinked at the flour on his clothes, his face deadpan. “It seems I have made a mess.”

The family burst into laughter at the sight of the boy, standing there like a snowman with a puzzled expression. 

After cleaning up the mess in the kitchen, and on himself, Cas was back to enjoy the fun activities they had curated for him. At one moment, when Dean had gone to buy some snacks, Cas was sitting on the floor with Pamela, learning card tricks. 

When Dean came back, Cas had begged him to play with him, along with Jo, Sam, and Ash, using the tricks Pamela had taught him.

“You’re cheating!” Dean laughed, throwing his hands in the air after Cas had somehow managed to win again.

"I’m not cheating," Cas replied, trying to hide a mischievous grin. "I’m just... playing strategically."

Jo laughed and pushed him lightly. “Oh, we’re definitely not letting you anywhere near the next poker game.”

He then fessed about Pamela teaching him tricks which got everyone to playfully scold Pamela for ruining Cas’ innocence. Sam, on the other hand, had decided he could teach Cas some of his tricks.

Sam took Cas under his wing, showing him how to build small contraptions with rubber bands and popsicle sticks.

“This is how you make a rubber band-powered car,” Sam explained, guiding Cas through the steps.

Cas watched closely, his hands moving expertly as he assembled the pieces. He was clearly paying attention, but then, in a moment of distraction, he pulled too hard on one of the rubber bands. Before anyone could react, the tiny contraption shot out of his hands like a missile—straight into Dean’s forehead.

“Ow!” Dean yelped, rubbing his head.

Cas froze, wide-eyed. “I... I didn’t mean to,” he said quickly, though his lips twitched.

The family burst into laughter at the scene, and Dean, though rubbing his forehead, couldn’t help but laugh as well.

“You, kid, are gonna be trouble when you grow up.” Ellen chuckled as Cas shrugged.

“I learned from the best.” He said, alluding not only at Pamela and Sam, but at everyone, subtly implying their day-to-day actions were chaotic.

As the sun set, Bobby stood up. “How about we try something a little different?” Bobby said, pulling a small bag out from under the table. “Wood carving. I’ve got some tools, and I think it'd be a good way to calm things down.”

The suggestion caught everyone’s attention, though Ellen raised an eyebrow. "Wood carving? I don’t know, Bobby. We’ve got an eight-year-old here with sharp tools. I’m not so sure about that."

"Don’t worry, I’ll supervise him," Bobby said with a grin. "Besides, Cas here looks like he’s got steady hands."

 “I’ll be careful, I promise.” Cas nodded, reassuring Ellen who nodded back with a soft smile.

"Alright, Cas," Dean said with a smile, “Show us what you can do.”

Bobby handed Cas a small carving knife and a block of wood, guiding him as the kid asked questions about how to move forward. The room watched in silence as Cas set to work with a level of concentration that endeared everyone. 

Dean leaned against the counter, watching with a small smile. He was surprised by how much care Cas was putting into it. 

As the minutes passed, Cas finally set the carving knife down and gently dusted off the little shavings that had collected on his lap. Everyone leaned forward as he held up his creation with a small, proud smile.

It was a simple wooden sign, about the size of his palm, and carved into it was a single phrase: “Family doesn’t end in blood.” The words weren’t perfectly formed, but there was something raw and heartfelt about them.

The room went silent, deeply touched by Cas’ actions. 

Bobby looked down at the sign and muttered softly, “Damn kid, you did good,” Bobby added.

 Cas grinned up at him, clearly proud of his work.

Dean took a deep breath, swallowing the lump in his throat. He’d never known how much those words would mean, especially coming from Cas, someone who had only recently become part of this chaotic family. 

"That’s... that’s perfect, Cas,” Dean said, his voice rough. “Really, it is."

Cas held the sign up higher, his eyes gleaming with pride. “I thought it was true,” he said. “You don’t have to be related by blood to be family.”

At everyone’s silence, Cas looked up with an uncertain smile. At that, everyone admired Cas’ work out loud, as the little boy preened at the praises.

Dean stretched, rolling his shoulders, when he caught sight of Cas stifling a yawn. Dean smirked, nudging him lightly. “Go on, squirt. We’ll clean up.”

Cas blinked up at him sleepily, then gave a small nod. He turned without protest, dragging himself off to bed, his plushie dangling from his fingers. Dean watched him go, the little kid who had somehow wormed his way into all their hearts.

As the others cleaned the room, Dean slipped outside, sign in hand. He found the perfect spot on the front porch, right by the steps where anyone walking up would see it. With careful precision, he hammered the sign into place.

Family doesn’t end in blood.

Dean stepped back, hands on his hips, and studied it in the soft glow of the porch light. It fit. More than that—it belonged there. Just like Cas belonged with them.

At this point, Dean wouldn’t mind having the little kid stay with them forever. Even though he was annoyed first by the babysitter position thrusted to him, the little rascal had wormed his way into his heart. All of their hearts.

Dean walked to Cas’ room, to check on the boy. Cas was curled up under the covers, his angel plushie tucked against his chest.

At first, Dean thought he was asleep. But then he heard it—the barely-there sound of muffled sniffles.

Dean’s stomach dropped.

Cas’ face was turned into his pillow, his small shoulders shaking. He was trying to be quiet, but Dean could hear the way his breath hitched, the way his fingers clenched in the fabric. He wasn’t just tired. He wasn’t just thinking. He was crying.

Dean froze in the doorway, his chest tightening.

Cas had been so happy all day—laughing, playing tricks, carving that damn sign. But now, in the stillness of night, when there was nothing left to distract him, the weight of everything caught up.

And Dean suddenly saw it for what it was.

No matter how much they all loved him, no matter how much they made him feel at home, it wasn’t the same as having her .

Dean clenched his jaw, his fingers twitching at his sides.

He hated Naomi for leaving Cas behind. Hated that she had made him feel like he wasn’t wanted. But standing here, watching this tiny kid cry himself to sleep, none of that mattered.

Because Cas still wanted her.

Dean exhaled, his mind already made up.

I don’t care if she’s a good mom or a bad one. He swallowed, eyes lingering on the way Cas’ face was scrunched in sleep, his lashes still damp. He needs her.

Dean straightened, fists clenching as he closed the door slowly.

I’m gonna find Naomi.

Chapter Text

When Monday came around, Cas stood in the middle of the living room, his hands on his hips, looking as serious as an eight-year-old can. With his chest puffed out, Cas announced, “I want to start walking home from school alone.”

Bobby and Ellen exchanged a look. Then—

“No,” Ellen said immediately.

“No damn way,” Bobby grunted at the same time, arms crossed.

Cas whined. “But I’m not a baby,” he argued, stomping his feet. “I can do it.” His blue eyes darted between them, pleading. “Please?”

Ellen sighed, rubbing at her temples. Bobby just shook his head. “Kid, you’re eight.”

Cas straightened his back. “And responsible.”

“You got lost in the grocery store last week.”

“That was one time,” Cas muttered, crossing his arms now.

Ellen exhaled sharply, giving Bobby another look, and Bobby grumbled under his breath before finally relenting. 

“Fine,” he said. Cas immediately perked up, hope lighting his face. “But,” Bobby added, leveling him with a stern look, “you go straight home. No messing around. No stopping to talk to strangers. No detours.”

Cas nodded eagerly. “Of course!”

Bobby wasn’t convinced. But Cas looked so damn proud of himself that Ellen just sighed. “Alright,” she said. “But if anything happens, you come straight back to us, got it?”

Cas beamed. “Got it.”

As Cas ran back to his room, Dean, Jo, Sam, and Ash started complaining about how Cas was too young and he shouldn’t be walking alone.

“He needs his independence, like you guys have!” Ellen explained.

“But he is 8!” Dean retorted.

“You know what? Ma, Pa aren’t gonna do anything.” Ash shook his head. “But I got an idea.”

“What? What is your great idea?” Jo asked with a snort.

“We stalk him!”

“What the hell?!” Dean asked.

“Wait, wait, Ash is right.” Sam agreed. “Since you have your extra classes, Jo, Ash, and I will follow him in the evening. Make sure he reaches well.”

“You can’t keep it up all the time.” Bobby smirked at the kids’ antics.

“We will make a schedule!” Sam jumped excitedly. “And it will be only for the first few weeks!”

“Alright, you do you.” The adults shook their heads and left to do their morning chores as they made their schedule, while Dean too left to get ready for his day.

-x-

As soon as school was over, Ash had made his way to Cas’ school.

Ash was on spy duty . He was absolutely committed to the role—so committed, in fact, that he was practically bursting with obviousness . 

He wore an oversized trench coat and sunglasses, even though it wasn’t sunny. 

As Cas walked out of the school, Ash stepped behind a tree dramatically, practically tripping over himself in the process. When he realized he had been spotted by a teacher, Ash froze for a second too long, then dove behind another tree, rolling across the sidewalk in the process. He was a wreck.

Cas looked over his shoulder briefly, squinting in Ash’s direction, but his face stayed neutral. Ash held his breath, hoping Cas hadn’t seen him— but of course he had.  

Cas turned away, continuing down the street without a word, pretending not to notice. Ash breathed a sigh of relief... and immediately tripped on the sidewalk as he tried to move again.

-x-

The next day was Jo’s turn. She was much more subtle—at least, that’s what she thought. She walked a little ways behind him, keeping her distance and casually observing. That was, until she spotted a dog. A really cute dog.

“Oh my god, you are adorable ,” she said, sidetracked, her voice dripping with affection. The dog perked up and ran over to her, tail wagging like crazy, and Jo forgot completely about her mission. She was fully engaged in a dog-petting session when she looked up— and Cas was gone.

Jo panicked, scanning the street. “Cas!” she called out quietly, then louder. “Cas!” She spotted him a block ahead, already walking confidently down the sidewalk. She sprinted after him, tripping over her own feet, and arrived at his side just in time to casually jog alongside him.

“Oh, hey, I was just heading home too,” she said, trying and failing to sound casual.

Cas didn’t look at her. “Mhm.”

-x-

Finally, it was Sam’s turn. Sam’s stalking style was far more sophisticated. He was quiet. Stealthy. Responsible. 

He kept a good distance, never getting too close. He was careful, watching Cas from the opposite side of the street, always staying one step behind. He had this.

But then— Cas turned around . And Sam froze. Cas was looking right at him.

“Oh, hey,” Sam said, trying to act like he had been on this street a hundred times before. “I, uh, I’m just out for a jog.”

Cas raised an eyebrow.

Sam started jogging in place, trying to cover up his panic, but Cas just watched him.

“Yeah, I’m definitely not stalking you. No sir, just out for a jog in the middle of the afternoon,” Sam said, his voice unconvincing.

Cas stared a moment longer, then shrugged and walked off without a word.

-x-

Dean laughed as Cas recounted the whole stalking Sam, Jo, and Ash had done for the past few days and had decided that enough was enough.

So when they gathered for dinner, Cas placed his fork and spoon on the table before leaning slowly on the table, propped on his elbow.

“If you’re going to follow me, at least be good at it,” he said, completely deadpan.

Ash gasped, eyes wide. 

“Wait, you knew?!” Jo blurted out, his face turning red.

Cas just smirked, looking at her with amusement. “I’m not stupid, Jo.”

This got Pamela, Bobby, Ellen, and Dean laughing out loudly as Jo, Sam, and Ash whined and pointed at one another for their failed plan.

Pamela, Bobby, Ellen, and Dean stayed to clear things off as Cas and the three kept bickering as they went to their respective rooms.

With the kids gone, Dean leaned against the kitchen counter, fidgeting as he asked, “So, any updates from Cas’ mom?”

Pamela stiffened before sighing as she nodded and said, “She sent a letter… and it was not good.”

“So… Naomi has reached out?” Dean asked, his voice tight.

Pamela nodded, her face somber. “She’s getting remarried… and said she can’t take Cas. She’s moving in with her new husband.”

Dean clenched his jaw. A hot surge of anger bubbled up in his chest. “That’s it? She just doesn’t want him? She chose not to take him?” His voice shook with frustration.

Dean’s heart ached at the realization that Naomi had just made a choice to leave Cas behind.

Pamela, Bobby, and Ellen exchanged heavy glances before Bobby spoke, “Dean, you have to understand… we can’t force Naomi to be a mother. If she’s not ready, she’s not ready.”

Dean shook his head, the words not registering. “ She’s his mother. ”

He felt a knot in his stomach. Cas was so young —how could Naomi just walk away from him? It wasn’t right.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Dean said, frustration seeping into his voice. “Cas should have the choice . He should get to decide what’s best for him. That lady can’t just give birth and leave him. He needs to have his choice!”

But Pamela, Bobby, and Ellen stood their ground, even though they weren’t happy with the outcome. They couldn’t force Naomi to change her mind. They couldn’t make her love Cas the way he needed.

Dean hated that answer. It made him feel powerless. He hated it. But he wasn’t going to stand by and let Cas feel abandoned again.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Well, I’m not letting him go through this alone. I’ll be here for him. No matter what.”

-x-

Weeks flew by, and in the blink of an eye, it was time for Dean’s birthday. The house buzzed with energy as guests started arriving. Lisa and Sonny were among the first, bringing laughter and gifts. Everyone was in high spirits, but there was something extra special in the air that day. Cas was practically glowing, his excitement infectious as he carefully handed Dean a small, handmade gift. It was a wooden carving of the Impala, painted with as much detail as an eight-year-old could manage, and Dean’s heart swelled with pride.

The day felt normal—maybe even perfect. The food was served, laughter echoed through the house, and Dean couldn’t help but smile at how lucky he was to have such a tight-knit, loving group around him.

Then, without warning, the doorbell rang.

Dean didn’t know what to expect, but when he opened the door, his smile faltered. There, standing in the doorway, was Naomi.

Cas froze, his eyes locked on her. Dean watched the emotions play across the boy’s face—confusion, fear, longing. It was a whirlwind of feelings, but one emotion stood out most of all: he wanted his mom .

Naomi’s cold gaze swept over the room, and she stepped inside without an invitation, a large wad of cash in her hand, thrusting it toward Bobby and Ellen. “I’ve remarried and settled into a new house. I’m ready to take him back now.”

Cas flinched at the words.

The room immediately grew tense. Jo, Ash, and Sam blocked the door, their faces stern. “No,” Jo said firmly. “You don’t get to just show up like this.” Ash stood beside her, his arms crossed, nodding in agreement.

Bobby and Ellen exchanged uneasy glances, clearly torn. They knew they couldn’t legally stop Naomi from taking Cas, but the thought of losing him was unbearable. Pamela hesitated before speaking, her voice low. “We can’t force him to stay. It’s his decision.”

Cas stood near the door, his hands fidgeting, his face a mixture of uncertainty and sadness. Dean’s heart broke watching him. Cas wanted to go with Naomi, but Dean knew how scared he was to leave the family that had become his home. Cas had found a place in their hearts. They had become his real family, but Naomi was his mother.

Dean decided to take Cas inside and ask him privately what he felt.

Cas’s voice broke through the silence. “If the world were just, Ellen and Bobby would be my parents. But... that’s my mom.”

Dean’s throat tightened. He’d seen the tears, heard the late-night cries as Cas clutched his angel plushie— his comfort when he couldn’t find peace anywhere else. It had never been fair to Cas, but Dean had tried.

Dean knew what he had to do.

Taking Cas back to where everyone was, he stepped forward to his family. “Let him go.”

Cas’s face fell, confusion and a sense of relief mixing with the pain in his eyes. 

“What, no way!” Sam spoke up as Dean watched Cas.

Cas didn’t want to leave, but he didn’t know if he could stay. Dean could see it, and though it broke him, he had to give Cas that choice, the one thing he deserved, one thing Sam and himself didn’t have.

“He needs his mom, Sammy.” Dean said, his voice quieter but firm. Sam’s eyes softened in understanding as he moved back.

“Good. Go pack your stuff Castiel. We are moving to another state and to catch the train, we need to leave ASAP.” Naomi said, straightening her coat. Cas nodded solemnly before walking to his room as they all stood in the room.

The cheery atmosphere of the birthday party was gone and the guests all dispersed. Lisa gave a supportive hug to Dean while Sonny patted him on the back as he left. 

Cas was now back in the room with a suitcase, his size,  full of his stuff. The boy hesitated at the door, his small form frozen as he looked back at them. 

Bobby muttered something under his breath, before walking to the boy and patting him on the back. “You take care now, kid.”

Jo, on the verge of tears, turned away to hide her feelings.

Cas approached Ellen slowly, wrapping his arms tightly around her. She held him close, the weight of the moment sinking in. 

Cas looked to Dean, his eyes shining with unshed tears, clutching his angel plushie in both hands.

“I’ll always remember you,” he said softly, his voice filled with quiet pain.

Dean nodded, scared if he spoke he would start crying. Sam and Ash tried to lighten the mood, but the tense atmosphere stayed.

Pamela hugged the little boy tight and kissed his cheeks, expressing her feelings,

Naomi stood by the door, her tone brisk. “We need to get moving.”

And with that, Cas stepped outside. The door clicked shut behind him, and Dean stood there, numb, watching the little boy leave the family that had loved him like their own. 

A family that would never end by blood.

Chapter Text

With Cas' absence too noticeable at home, everyone threw themselves into something new.

Sam, newly introduced to law, tailored his Year 9 classes accordingly. Ash, recognized for his tech talent, was pushed into competitions that he quickly dominated.

Jo, on the other hand, had been taking shifts at Ellen’s Roadhouse and, much to everyone’s surprise—including her own—she liked it. She asked Bobby and Ellen if she could skip university and take over the business instead. They hesitated, unsure if she’d regret the decision, but Jo was firm. This was what she wanted.

And Dean?

Dean buried himself in studying.

The night Cas left, Dean found a letter on his bed, written in neat, deliberate handwriting for an eight-year-old. Cas had thanked everyone, but he'd made it clear—Dean was his favorite.

"I hope you do your best and remember me."

Cas had drawn a picture of Dean working on the Impala, and Dean had smiled at it before carefully tucking it away. The keychain Cas had made him never left his pocket after that.

Bobby had nudged him toward a purpose. "You get your act together, get a business degree along with that automobile one, and this place? Singer Auto Salvage? It's yours."

That was all the motivation Dean needed.

But it was harder than he expected. The first few weeks, he kept glancing at Cas’ empty chair at dinner, expecting to hear his small, matter-of-fact voice. Some nights, he’d catch himself reaching for his phone, about to call Ellen’s landline just to check if Cas needed anything—before remembering he wasn’t there.

Sonny, always eager to help, took on more tutoring sessions with him. But it was Lisa who pointed out that academics alone wouldn’t cut it—extracurriculars were key for college. She dragged him into her volunteering group, where he met Charlie, Garth, and Benny.

Their friendship stuck.

By the time they all got into college, Dean was set on automobile engineering, Charlie had gone for tech, Garth for dentistry, and Benny had taken over his mom’s gumbo business. Lisa, realizing NGOs were her passion, used  her existing volunteering connections and thrived.

-x-

During his college years, between designing car models and business classes, Dean started noticing things about himself—things that didn’t fit the image he’d had in his head.

He was admiring a sharp jawline, the right kind of stubble, watching some guy stretch in the gym a little too long before snapping out of it. He often found men attractive but thought that was just a usual thing until one night, over beers, Garth casually said, "Yeah, I think some guys look good, but I don’t, like, notice them."

Charlie, grinning, added, "That’s what I used to tell myself about women until I realized my ‘appreciation for fashion’ was really just wanting to kiss pretty girls ."

Dean had laughed at first, but later that night, staring at his ceiling, the thought hit him like a goddamn truck.

He wasn’t straight.

And that was when it clicked.

Dean had always admired a sharp jawline, the right kind of stubble, the way someone's blue eyes stood out in dim lighting. It wasn’t just aesthetic.

It took a while to admit it—longer to say it out loud. Charlie and Garth helped him through it, but telling Bobby and the rest of his family? That had been terrifying.

Nothing changed, though, when he finally voiced it.

Dean was still Dean, and they still loved him like they always had.

-x-

Sam and Ash got into Stanford together—Sam for law, Ash for tech. Sam and his highschool girlfriend Madison split amicably because of the distance, and Ash? He dropped out fast. 

Not because he wasn’t smart— because he was too smart. Google tried hiring him before he even had a degree, but the second he realized corporate culture sucked, he started quitting job after job. By the time he was 27, companies were bidding for his services, and Ash? He was just having fun making them sweat.

Jo found someone worth keeping—Tom. She ran the Roadhouse single-handedly and was the local favorite bar. Garth opened a dental clinic with his wife, Bess. Benny’s gumbo restaurant had become another staple of the town, and Lisa, now a mom to a little boy named Ben, kept climbing the NGO ladder.

Sam had become a known lawyer and had a family with his wife Jess, who he had met during school events. Charlie had been quickly employed by a big tech company, and her girlfriend, Gilda, had opened a fantasy-themed cafe that was a hit with families and kids.

Pamela, with enough savings from working, had started a psychic business which was successful. Bobby and Ellen, now with their businesses taken over by the kids, decided to retire but their hands were never still. So they had started some community events, where they met two cop friends, Donna and Jody.

Dean graduated with merits, two degrees, and job offers from luxury car brands. He took the corporate route for a while, designing engines, until he realized he hated it. He wanted hands-on work.

So, he took over Singer Auto Salvage.

Now, at 30, he freelanced, designing custom engines for high-end brands and fixing rare vintage cars. He worked when he wanted, took on the projects he liked, and had a client list full of the rich and famous.

And right now?

He was sitting in Gilda’s café, watching a DILF be an excellent father to two kids, and falling stupidly, hopelessly, dangerously in love.

Charlie, ever the menace, leaned over and whispered, “You are so in the zone.”

And that was how Dean Winchester, confident with women but a goddamn mess with men, started spiraling over a blue-eyed brunette.

-x-

“Why are you so tongue-tied with this man?” Charlie asked, chuckling as she drank her beer.

“Yeah, especially at your grown age.” Jo scoffed.

“Didn’t you date several men during uni and even after?” Ash asked.

“Yeah, what were their names? I remember Adam.” Benny said, which got Lisa to laugh.

“Man, Dean was so flustered when he was hit on.” 

“There was Victor.” Gilda chimed in softly.

“Oh and there was-”

“Can we stop!” Dean finally whined, not wanting to talk more about his past relationships. All of them started off as casual hookups then turned into relationships that didn’t sustain more than few months.

It all stemmed from his highschool fear he had yet to let go off. 

He flirted, he hooked up, he played the role of the easygoing, charming guy who never got too close. It was fun. Simple. People liked him, and he liked being liked. It was a distraction.

But attachment ? Real, deep, meaningful connection? That was a whole different ball game.

Dean had learned early— nothing lasts .

His dad was gone. His mom, she’d been gone before he even knew her. And sure, he had Bobby, Ellen, Sammy, Jo, Ash, Pamela… A whole family that had somehow stuck around. But there was always this nagging fear in the back of his mind that one day, something would happen. That it would all just… end .

Maybe that’s why he played things the way he did. Keep it light, keep it easy. Never stick around long enough for someone to expect something from him.

Never stick around long enough to get hurt.

He felt a sudden deja-vu from that thought. He has thought of this before. But when?

“Why does the DILF scare you Winchester?” Lisa asked giggling, already a bit tipsy from her drinks.

Dean’s brows furrowed in thought. Well there was the obvious, he was a man. Secondly, he hit Dean’s list of features he liked in men. Harrison Ford and Dr. Sexy got nothing on the DILF.

But the thing that made Dean scared of the man was the way he made Dean feel. It was scary the way butterflies fluttered in his stomach or the way his heart started beating fast.

And those kids - a blonde girl with blue eyes and a boy with light brown hair and blue eyes. They were so precious. 

Dean swallowed, suddenly feeling too warm despite the cool air in the roadhouse. His friends were all grinning like a pack of wolves circling prey, and he was the sorry bastard on the chopping block.

“I just think…” He trailed off, grabbing his beer and taking a long swig, desperate for an excuse. “Y’know, maybe he’s, uh, married. I don’t need that drama.”

Lisa snorted. “You don’t even know if he’s single, and you’re already spiraling.”

Charlie smirked. “Oh, he’s single.”

Dean nearly choked. “The hell do you mean ‘oh, he’s single’?”

Charlie wiggled her eyebrows. “I have my ways.”

Gilda, ever the enabler, added, “I may have overheard them talking and the dad explaining how family doesn’t end in blood and it’s okay to not have 2 parents.”

Dean smiled at that, the image of wood carving hanging at Bobby and Ellen’s porch flashed in his mind. Dean’s fingers instinctively tightened around the keychain in his pocket. The wood was smooth from years of absentminded rubbing, the grooves fitting against his thumb like they were meant to be there. 

“Mm-hmm. That’s some hot dad material right there.” Ash said, downing his beer and laughing.

Dean’s chest tightened. That explained why the kids seemed so attached to their dad, why they hovered close, how the dad always instinctively reached for them even when they were just a few steps away.

He felt it again—that weird, twisting feeling in his gut. Not just attraction. Not just some stupid crush. Something deeper. Something terrifying.

Something familiar.

He frowned. Why did it feel familiar?b

Chapter Text

Dean had gone to the cafe. While he tried to console himself that he desperately needed a slice of pie, deep down he knew he just wanted to see the DILF again. Gilda gave him a knowing smile as he entered the cafe, to which he rolled his eyes.

"The usual, I am assuming?" Gilda asked, and Dean nodded. "Unfortunately, the usual is out of DILF and instead has come with a side of Uncle Gabe."

Dean whipped his head around to find the two kids sitting with a man he didn't know (as if he knew the DILF... well-)

"Uncle?" Dean asked.

"Mhm!" Gilda hummed as Dean turned back, just in time to roll his eyes as Gilda slid a slice of pie in front of him, along with a drink on the house. “To soothe your melancholy,” she said with a knowing smirk.

“Whatever.” Dean grumbled, digging into his pie, but his eyes kept flickering toward the kids and their ‘Uncle Gabe.’

It was clear the guy was trouble. The moment Kali, a worker at the cafe, walked out of the kitchen, he shot her a wink that made her groan. “God, why are you here?”

“You wound me,” Gabe gasped dramatically, placing a hand on his chest. “And here I was, thinking I’d come support my favorite little café.”

“You’re not supporting anything. You’re scamming free snacks off your niece and nephew.”

“Potato, po-tah-to.” Gabe grinned.

Dean smirked, amused, but his attention quickly shifted back to the kids.

“Uncle Gabe, stop embarrassing us,” the little boy muttered through a mouthful of nougat.

“Oh, where’s your sense of fun? Aren’t you Lucifer’s son?”

The boy rolled his eyes like he’d heard this a hundred times before. “If the world were just, I would be Dad’s son.”

Gabe froze, his expression dropping instantly. “Kiddo, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine,” the boy said, like it was a fact of life. “You didn’t mean it. I know.”

Dean blinked, suddenly hit with déjà vu. The words were way too mature for the boy’s age, but laced with something vulnerable underneath.

“When is Dad coming?” the little girl asked, shifting in her seat impatiently.

Gabe exhaled, ruffling her hair. “Your dad had to go be too smart for his own good and now has work. No clue when he’ll be back—”

The café chimes tinkled as the door opened.

“Daddy!”

Dean turned—and there he was.

Dr. Sexy?!

No…

It was DILF.

In scrubs, looking exhausted but absolutely unfazed as both kids launched themselves at him. He caught them with ease, lifting them in both arms like they weighed nothing.

Dean had to physically stop himself from drooling at the sheer display of strength.

Gabe grinned at the sight and waved them off. “Go on, get outta here. Family bonding time.”

As the three of them left, Gabe strolled up to the counter, leaning against it to talk with Kali but Gilda quickly came to the front.

“The guy with the kids,” Gilda started, sliding him a drink. “Your brother?”

Dean nearly choked on his pie. Gilda, what the fuck.

Gabe snorted. “Yeah, stepbrother—not that I call him that.” He took a sip. “Hell, if I had it my way, I’d have him as my brother instead of the ones I actually share DNA with.”

Dean frowned, something about the way he said it catching his attention.

“Oh?” Gilda prompted, feigning casual interest.

“Yeah,” Gabe sighed. “Met him when I was ten, he was eight. My old man married his mom, and bam! Instant family. Not that my actual brothers saw it that way. They treated him like an outsider—like less.”

Gabe’s easygoing smirk faltered. “They were assholes to him. Always resented how smart he was. Like, freakishly smart. He tested at a 170 IQ at fourteen. Started med school at sixteen. Sixteen!”

Dean stilled, his grip tightening on his fork.

Sixteen?

Med school?

No way.

“Oh, yeah, and get this—” Gabe laughed. “Kid never slept. Always had his nose in a book, studying his ass off. And he’d talk like some tiny old professor, all formal and proper. Drove my brothers crazy.”

Dean’s chest tightened.

That… sounded familiar.

Gabe hummed, swirling his drink. “Anyway, we stuck together. I mean, who wouldn’t wanna be the kid’s brother? He deserved better.”

He checked his phone and suddenly cursed. “Shit—I’m late. Kali, call me later, sweetheart.”

“I’d rather die,” Kali deadpanned.

“Damn. Tragic.” Gabe winked and headed out, leaving Dean sitting there, heart pounding in his ears.

He barely noticed when Gilda refilled his drink.

She arched her brow. “You good?”

Dean swallowed hard, staring at the empty seat where Gabe had just been.

“…Yeah,” he muttered.

But he was filled with jumbled emotions and jumbled thoughts that he couldn’t make sense of.

-x-

“Kali told me Gabe’s 24 years old.” Gilda shared that night when they all gathered at the Roadhouse.

“So according to maths, DILF is 22.” Charlie said.

“Damn, you gon’ be a sugar daddy, cher?” Benny asked, his beard shaking as he laughed.

“Isn’t that wrong? An 8 year difference.” Dean asked worriedly.

“An 8 year difference is wrong when you are 25 and they are 17.” Lisa said, snorting a laugh. “You two should be good.”

“Besides, it’s not like you fell for his age!” Jo explained. “You fell for… What did you fall for?”

Dean opened his mouth—then shut it.

Because, hell. He didn’t even know how to explain it.

But his mind drifted, unbidden, back to the first time he saw him.

—----flashback—----

It was a slow day at the café—one of those lazy Sunday afternoons where the scent of fresh coffee lingered in the air, and soft jazz hummed from the speakers. Dean had been sitting in his usual corner, scrolling through his phone, waiting on his order, when the door chimes rang.

He barely glanced up at first.

Then—

A man walked in, two kids in tow.

Dean wasn’t sure what it was that made him look twice. Maybe it was the fact he hadn’t seen the kids or the man before. The town was pretty small and everyone knew everyone so it may have surprised him to see new faces?

Or maybe it was the way the guy carried himself— the way the kids clung to him, practically radiating love and trust. That was pure, unshakable Dad Energy.

He knelt to their level, ruffling the boy’s hair as the kid chattered excitedly about something. Then the girl tugged at his sleeve, pouting, and he immediately turned his full attention to her, nodding like she was saying the most important thing in the world.

Dean didn’t hear what they were talking about. He was too busy watching.

Then the guy—the Dad—reached into his pocket, pulled out a couple packs of nougat and handed them to the kids with a small smile, while having a packet of honey himself. Their faces lit up like it was the greatest gift they’d ever received.

Dean had felt something warm settle in his chest, something he couldn’t quite name.

Then the guy turned his head—just slightly—and Dean caught a glimpse of piercing blue eyes, tired but kind.

He looked away fast, pretending to check his phone.

He had no idea why he was suddenly so damn interested in this random guy with his kids, but the feeling lingered long after they had taken their seat by the window, sunlight catching in the man’s dark hair.

Dean didn’t approach. Didn’t say anything.

Just sat there, quietly watching.

And maybe—just maybe—that was the moment it started.

—---- present —----

Dean blinked, snapping back to reality.

“…I dunno,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think it was how he was with the kids. Just—” He exhaled. “I dunno. He’s a good dad.”

Lisa smirked. “So, you got daddy issues.”

Dean groaned. “Shut up .”

But as the conversation drifted, as laughter filled the room, Dean couldn’t shake the feeling.

After his mom died when he was 4 years old, Dad had been estranged. Maybe Dean had daddy issues - which wouldn’t surprise him as he has a list of issues.

Or maybe the familiarity of the man intrigued him. More than the way he acted with the kids, it was about how he acted. Period.

How he was as a man. How he was a person himself.

Dean didn’t know and that’s what scared him. These inexplicable feelings usually hinted at one specific emotion and Dean wasn’t ready for that feeling yet.

Chapter Text

Dean barely glanced up from under the hood of a '67 Mustang as a 1978 Lincoln Continental Mark V rolled up to Singer Auto, its engine purring low and steady. The car looked like a fucking pimpmobile. 

But nevertheless, a client was a client. “Max, go check it out.” He called out, who nodded and went to check the car out.

A few minutes later, Max came back, wiping her hands on an oil-stained rag. “Transmission’s slipping, some issues with the brake system. Nothing too crazy, but it’s gonna take a couple of days.”

Dean nodded. “Alright, tell the client to hang tight. I’ll go talk to ‘em.”

When he stepped out of the garage, his usual speech ready, Dean stopped short.

It was DILF.

The owner of the Continental. Fuck.

DILF was leaning casually against the car, perking up when his eyes fell on Dean. The man had sharp cheekbones, stubbled jaw, and striking blue eyes that seemed to hold some secret Dean wasn’t privy to. The quiet amusement he regarded Dean with made Dean flush.

Dean swallowed, forcing himself into business mode. “So, your ride needs some work. I can have it done by—”

The man just kept looking at him, an almost knowing smile tugging at his lips.

Dean cleared his throat. “Uh, anyway, I’ll get you a quote, and if you’re good with it, we can start work tomorrow.”

Still, the man just stood there with a fond smile, like he was waiting for something.

Dean flustered, looking away as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh… you good?”

That soft smile didn’t waver, but the man finally nodded. Then, without another word, he climbed into the car and drove off.

Dean stood there for a solid minute, hands to his cheeks were warmth filled.

“What the hell was that?”

-x-

A few days later, Dean and Lisa were in a toy store, trying (and failing) to decide on a gift for Ben’s upcoming birthday.

“I swear, everything is just an overpriced piece of plastic,” Lisa muttered, holding up a dinosaur set with a grimace.

“Yeah, well, the kid’s obsessed with ‘em,” Dean said, scanning the aisles. “Isn’t that right, Ben?” Dean asked, looking down to where Ben was supposed to be, but not finding the boy. “Ben?”

At Dean’s tone, Lisa turned and realized her son was missing. “Ben?!” She called out, looking around. 

The two of them walked around, hoping to find the boy when he noticed something—or rather, someone.

Ben, standing a few feet away, chatting animatedly with someone.

Dean’s breath hitched. It was him . DILF.

“Found him,” Dean murmured, nudging Lisa and pointing.

They walked over, Lisa instinctively reaching for Ben, but Dean’s focus stayed on the man. “Hey, thanks for keeping him company,” he said, offering an awkward smile.

As Lisa straightened with Ben on her hips, about to thank the man, DILF tilted his head slightly as he asked. “Do you remember me?”

Dean blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question. “Yeah. From the garage—the Lincoln Continental.” Dean said stiltedly, not sure if DILF was asking about that.

"Yeah but that wasn't what I was alluding to." DILF said with a soft smile, though his eyes flickered with disappointment. "You and I have a profound bond."

“Excuse me?" Dean asked, flustered, about to ask what DILF meant when the man continued.

"We’ve walked to school together." DILF said. 

Dean’s stomach dropped.

“I’ve ridden in your Impala.”

Something about the way he said it—gentle, patient—made Dean’s heart slam against his ribs.

And then—

“I am Cas. Castiel Shurley.”

Dean’s world tilted.

His breath left him in a quiet, incredulous laugh. “Cas?” His mind flooded with flashes—messy dark hair, too-big trench coat, wide blue eyes. Little Cas.

“Holy shit,” Dean breathed, eyes wide. He looked at Cas— really looked at him. “Why the hell didn’t you say something at the garage?”

Cas gave a small, amused shrug. “I wanted to see if you’d recognize me. If you remember me.”

Dean let out a disbelieving chuckle, shaking his head. “Of course I remember you, man. You told me to do my best and remember you.” His smile softened. “No way I’d forget you.”

Cas’ answering smile was bright, almost giddy.

"You've been good?" Cas asked. 

"Great." Dean smiled back. "You?" 

"I finished my schooling and have started doing my residency now." 

"Oh wow ok! That's cool." Dean said, out of words. 

"Who's this?" Ben asked from Lisa's hip, shaking Dean out of the separate world he had fallen in with Cas. 

"Buddy, this is Cas. Castiel." Dean said. "He was my friend. Best friend." 

Dean smiled at Cas, who beamed at Dean's declaration. 

"Who am I?" Lisa asked, while Dean rolled his eyes and pushed her away. "Since Dean is so rude, I'm Lisa," she said, introducing herself. "And this rockstar is Ben." Leaning in, she whispered, "His birthday is Tuesday. Don't tell him."

Ben giggled and hid himself in Lisa's neck. "Mommy---" he sang. "I can hear you, you know!" 

"Oh wow, my baby's got super hearing?!" Lisa asked, which got the boy to laugh more. 

“Dee’s friend is super nice,” Ben chimed in, grinning at Cas. “He asked me which toy his little boy would like, and I helped!”

Cas chuckled. “And you chose perfectly.” He pulled out his phone and showed them a picture of two kids. “This is Jack. And this is Claire.”

Lisa peered at the screen. “Oh, I usually hear Jack and Jill. This combo is different.”

Cas laughed. “They keep me on my toes.”

 “You should bring them to Ben’s party on Tuesday. He’d love having new friends.”

Cas glanced at Dean, who just shrugged. “You should,” Dean said.

Cas smiled. “I’ll check my schedule.”

“Here—take Dean’s number,” Lisa said before Dean could protest.

Lisa never checks her phone so it's always been one or the other from their group always relaying messages when they meet in person. It's become so common, Dean kind of forgot the implication an outsider would perceive about their relationship.

Cas took it, saving it without hesitation. Then he glanced between them, smiling warmly. “It was good seeing you again, Dean.”

Dean’s throat felt tight. “Yeah, man. You too.”

As Cas walked away, he glanced back one last time, sending Dean another soft smile before disappearing into the crowd.

Lisa nudged Dean. “So DILF has been Cas all along, huh?”

And just like that—Dean’s world shattered.

The eight-year-old he used to babysit was the man he’d been fantasizing about.

What the actual fuck .

-x-

“ Cas is back?! ” Jo practically shrieked at their usual gathering that night.

“Little man’s here in town?” Ash added, grinning.

Sam looked completely blindsided. “ How? When? What? HUH?! ”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Benny leaned forward, looking between them. “Time out. Who is Cas?”

“Yeah! Enlighten us, peasants!” Jess teased.

Sam took a breath, running a hand through his hair. “Cas was this kid who stayed with us about… what? Twelve, thirteen years ago?”

“Thirteen years ago. For four months,” Ash corrected. “Came in September, left in January.”

Jo sighed. “Man, I gotta ask how his life’s been.”

“The way we parted was… rough,” Sam admitted.

“His mom ditched him, then suddenly showed up and took him away from us,” Ash said bitterly.

“Poor kid went through hell,” Jo muttered. “Kids bullied him, teachers gossiped, even Dean’s classmates gave him shit.”

Gilda raised an eyebrow. “Well, sounds like you’d be happy to know he’s doing well now.”

“A resident doctor at twenty-two,” Charlie mused. “That’s pretty damn impressive.”

“But what does this mean for cher?” Benny asked, turning to Dean, who had been unusually quiet. “His DILF is the kid he babysat.”

Charlie waved a hand. “It doesn’t have to mean anything ! That was ages ago.”

“But it might be weird,” Benny argued. “I mean, he knew Cas as a little kid.”

Dean sat there, mind a swirling mess. He should be weirded out. But he wasn’t.

Instead, all he felt was a deep, gnawing conflict .

Benny nudged him. “Cher? You good?”

Dean snapped out of it, clearing his throat. “Yeah. Just… not feeling great. Gonna head out.”

Sam groaned. “Come on , man—”

“I’ll see you guys later,” Dean muttered, standing up.

As he left, one thought ran circles in his mind.

What the hell am I supposed to do now?

Chapter Text

The next three days, Dean didn’t go to the café. Not because he didn’t want to. Hell no. But because it was the right thing to do. Right?

Avoiding the café wasn’t about Cas. Or, well, maybe it was. But not in the creepy way. Not in the stalking the hot DILF way. Not in the lingering in the doorway, pretending to browse muffins while secretly hoping to catch a glimpse of a certain blue-eyed doctor way. Nope. Dean Winchester had self-control.

...Except he didn’t, because even not going to the café wasn’t stopping his brain from circling back to Cas.

Cas, who was still texting him.

It had started out simple enough—Cas reaching out, confirming that he and the kids would be at Ben’s birthday party. But then he kept texting. Asking about Ben. About Lisa. About Dean. Not in a weird way, not even in an overly familiar way, just… thoughtful. Considerate in a way that felt oddly intimate.

Cas: How’s Ben feeling about turning ten?
Dean: Excited. Kid won’t shut up about it.
Cas: I remember when I turned ten, I thought it meant I was officially wise.
Dean: Yeah? How’d that work out for you?
Cas: I believe the jury’s still out.

Dean snorted when he read that one. Cas had always been weirdly funny in that unintentional way. He still was. And he had always been wise… at least he was wiser than Dean back when they were 8 and 16.

Cas: How’s Lisa?
Dean: Good, same as ever. She’s been focused with the party planning.
Cas: She always seemed very capable. You’re lucky to have her.

Dean didn’t think much of it at first. Just answered like normal. But the more Cas texted, the more it hit him—Cas still cared about him. He still remembered things. And he cared in that same way he used to, like it was natural, like Dean mattered.

And that’s when the spiral started.

Cas was familiar , but he was also a stranger.

Dean knew him. But he didn’t know him.

He was the same kid who used to follow Dean around like a baby duck, who used to shove peanut butter cups into his hands even when Dean didn’t ask, who once spent an hour quietly fixing Dean’s broken watch with tiny, careful fingers because “things that are important should be taken care of.”

And now, Cas was a grown-ass man. A man who had kids, and a life, and a whole damn world of experiences that Dean had no idea about.

Was he only drawn to Cas because of the past? Because his brain still saw him as that quiet little kid with big, serious eyes? Was that weird?

Was Benny right?

Dean groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. Jesus Christ, was he being a creep?

The guilt crawled up his spine, settling like a stone in his gut. If he felt this conflicted, didn’t that mean something was off? Something wrong ?

Or was he just overthinking the hell out of it?

Charlie sure as hell thought so.

Charlie: Dude, you need to relax.
Charlie: You knew each other for, what, four months? Over twelve years ago??
Charlie: That’s like… 3% of your life. 1% if you count your whole life.
Charlie: You’ve known me longer, and you’re not spiraling about that.
Dean: Yeah, ‘cause I don’t wanna bang you, dumbass.
Charlie: EXACTLY. It’s attraction, dude. Not a crime.
Charlie: Would have been a crime if you wanted to bang the 8 year old kid.
Dean : Ew! Charlie! What?! GROSS!!
Charlie : There you go! You wanna get into the 22 year old Cas’ pants
Charlie : Knowing him when he was 8 is just a sweet bonus about yalls relationship

Dean didn’t know if that made him feel better or worse.

All he knew was that his thoughts weren’t making any damn sense, and he needed something— anything —to distract himself before he started losing it completely.

So, naturally, he went for a drive.

And that’s when he found it.

Small. A little worn. The faded shape of an Impala pressed into its surface, rough around the edges from years of use.

Cas’s keychain.

The one he’d made for Dean when he was eight, all tiny fingers and concentrated effort.

Dean had never taken it off his keys. Never thought about it much. But now, holding it between his fingers, he suddenly couldn’t think about anything else.

Cas had been important to him. Even back then.

Maybe he’d never really forgotten that.

And maybe—just maybe—that was the real reason he couldn’t stop thinking about him now.

-x-

Ben’s birthday party was in full swing—kids running wild, the grill sizzling. The backyard was filled with laughter and the occasional scream that probably meant someone was either having the time of their life or on the verge of a minor injury.

Dean was nursing a beer, doing his best not to look like he was watching the driveway, when a car pulled up.

And then he stepped out.

Cas.

Dean barely had time to process that before two kids followed Cas out of the car—Jack and Claire.

Dean had spent days bracing himself for this moment. But nothing could have prepared him for—

“Hello.” The little boy walked right up to him, looking up with a serious gaze that felt eerily familiar. “I am Jack. And I love nougat.”

Dean blinked. Then huffed out a laugh. “Yeah? Nougat, huh? That’s a solid choice, kid.”

Jack nodded gravely, like Dean had just validated a core belief.

And damn it, Dean could see Cas in the kid. The same intensity, the same oddly specific declarations.

Then the girl sighed, shifting her weight. “I’m Claire.” She shrugged, already radiating that I’m too cool for this energy.

“Hello little girl, I’m Dean.” He replied with a small smile.

“Little girl? I just told you, my name is Claire!” The girl rolled her eyes. “Would you like it if I called you Old Man?!”

Dean snorted at the little girl’s sudden outburst. “Old man? Damn, kid, you’re brutal.”

“Whatever, old man.” Claire deadpanned, but there was a slight mischievous tilt to her eyes, which reminded Dean of the rare moments when Cas used to indulge in the naughty side of his 8 year old self.

“That’s rude Claire.” Cas admonished, a sudden whiplash from the 8 year old Dean was thinking about. Cas was now standing tall, a man, admonishing his child. “... shouldn’t you go give Ben his gift?”

Cas ushered Claire, who nodded solemnly, before wandering off toward Ben and the other kids. Jack trailed after Claire and Cas, though he threw one last thoughtful look over his shoulder, like he was still evaluating Dean.

Dean was still recovering from the whole interaction when Lisa elbowed him in the ribs.

Lisa, who had definitely caught him staring.

“So,” she said, her voice full of amusement. “Are you gonna talk to him, or just stare at him like a dumbass?”

Dean scoffed. “I’m not—”

Lisa arched a knowing brow.

Dean exhaled sharply. “I’m not. ”

“You so are.”

Dean scowled. Lisa smirked. Nothing new there.

But then Cas turned, their eyes met, and for half a second, Dean forgot how to function.

Because shit.

Cas looked… good. Not the same as the 8 year old he was familiar with. Cas was older, sure, but not in a bad way. His hair was a little longer, his shoulders broader, and—God help him—he was wearing that damn sweater again.

Then Cas smiled—small, warm, effortless —remnant of the little kid Dean knew, and something in Dean’s chest did a thing it had no business doing.

Cas was already greeting people, blending in so damn naturally. When he crouched down to talk to Ben, something twisted in Dean’s gut.

He wasn’t sure what it was.

But it scared the hell out of him.

Dean wanted to talk to Cas. He needed to.

But his thoughts were still a tangled mess, and for the first time in a long time, Dean Winchester had no idea what the hell to say.

-x-

As the party progressed, Dean took over manning the grill—partly because someone had to, but mostly because focusing on flipping burgers was easier than dealing with the crowd in the backyard and the tangled mess in his head.

Until he wasn’t alone anymore.

“So your boy’s got several dinosaur-wrapped boxes.”

Dean startled slightly, looking up to find Cas standing leisurely beside him. He was wearing jeans and that damn sweater, one hand tucked in his pocket while the other held a cold cup of soda.

It was supposed to be a casual look. Just a guy at a backyard party.

But damn, Dean was having a hard time not noticing how good Cas looked.

At this point, it was annoying.

Dean huffed, refocusing on the grill. “Yeah, kid’s got a thing for raptors. Been his obsession since he was four.”

Cas hummed. “I remember Ellen telling me you liked dinosaurs too.”

Dean looked shocked. “Oh yeah? That so?” Dean had a hard time remembering what he did the previous day but Cas somehow remembered a liking of Dean from years ago - something Dean himself had forgotten.

Cas nodded. “You went through a phase where you insisted on being called ‘Deanociraptor.’”

Dean groaned. “Jesus. Ellen was not supposed to tell you that.”

Cas just smiled, a little too pleased with himself, and took a sip of his drink.

For a moment, it was easy. The kind of conversation that didn’t require thinking.

But then Cas tilted his head, studying him in that way that always made Dean feel a little too seen.

“You’ve always been good with kids.”

Dean blinked. “What?”

Cas shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You were good with me. And you’re good with Ben. And from what I’ve heard, you were good with Sam. It’s… nice to see that some things  haven't changed.”

Dean’s throat went dry.

Because—what the hell was he supposed to do with that?

Cas still saw him so clearly. Even after all these years. Even when Dean wasn’t sure he saw himself the same way anymore.

And suddenly, all the conflicting thoughts came crashing back:

Cas was a stranger. But he wasn’t.
This shouldn’t feel so easy. But it did.
Was this just nostalgia? Or was it more?

Dean swallowed, turning back to the grill, focusing on the flames like they could burn away the way too much feelings happening in his chest.

“…Yeah,” he said finally, voice a little rough. “Guess some things stick with you.”

Cas didn’t push. Didn’t press.

Just stood there, comfortable and steady.

And damn it, Dean was so screwed.

Chapter Text

Dean Winchester was a lot of things—mechanic, brother, father figure, expert burger flipper. But self-aware? Yeah, not so much.

Because if he were, he’d admit that he was in deep shit when it came to Cas.

After some much needed ass-whooping from his friends, and basic self-introspection, Dean was finally able to accept to himself that, yes, he liked Cas. 

No,  he wasn't attracted to the 8 year old, rather the grown man who he was already infatuated with even before knowing who the man was - only referring to him as DILF.  The past just deepened their connection. ‘Profound Bond’ as Castiel once put it.

But what was he gonna do about it? Make a move? Yeah right!

Instead, he did what he did best: made excuses.

Cas was busy. The guy was a single dad juggling a residency and two kids. He didn’t need some washed-up mechanic with enough baggage to sink a goddamn ship sniffing around, making things complicated .

So yeah. Dean liked Cas. Big deal . Didn’t mean he had to do anything about it.

And if ignoring it made him feel like something was gnawing at his ribs? Well. That was just part of the package, wasn’t it?

At least, that’s what he told himself.

But turns out, jealousy is a bitch.

Dean didn’t mean to keep tabs on Cas. He really didn’t.

But it was kinda hard not to when Cas kept showing up at Gilda’s café like clockwork—sometimes alone, sometimes with his kids.

And sometimes—with them .

The brunette girl and the British dude.

Dean didn’t know their names, didn’t want to know their names, but every time Cas walked in with one of them, it made his teeth clench.

The girl—she was all bright smiles and easy laughter, the kind that made Cas’ eyes crinkle at the edges. The guy? Ugh. British, buttoned-up, and effortlessly cool in a way that made Dean want to punch something. And Cas— Cas —was comfortable with them in a way that made Dean’s stomach twist.

The worst part? The way Cas leaned into them. The way the brunette touched his arm when she laughed, the way the British guy murmured things in his ear, making Cas shake his head with that small, fond smile.

Dean wasn’t sure which one of them he hated more.

But it wasn’t his place to hate anything, was it? Nope. Because Cas wasn’t his .

So he sat at his usual table, pretending not to look, and took an extra long sip of his coffee.

Lisa’s voice echoed in his head. “So, are you gonna talk to him, or just stare at him like a dumbass?”

Dean scowled.

Staring it was.

-x-

It was supposed to be a fun night.

Charlie had dragged him out to the Roadhouse for some local event—an open mic night or whatever—and the place was packed . Between the music, the clinking of glasses, and the hum of conversation, it was the kind of chaos Dean usually liked.

But then, he saw them .

Cas. The brunette. The British guy.

And Cas—Cas was on the dance floor, laughing as the brunette pulled him closer, the British guy right behind him.

Dean froze.

He should look away. He should . But instead, he watched as Cas swayed, hips moving in sync with the music, arms draped around both of them like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Something ugly twisted in Dean’s chest.

It wasn’t that Cas was dancing. It was the way he was dancing—with them, close, intimate, like they were just one step away from—

Dean clenched his jaw and turned away sharply, tossing back the rest of his beer.

Screw this.

If Cas got to have his fun, then so did he.

So he let his eyes sweep across the bar, searching for a distraction. Anyone who could help him shove down the knot in his throat and the ache in his ribs.

And that’s when he saw him .

Blonde, curvy, perched at the bar with a playful smirk as he caught Dean looking. He tilted his head in invitation, and yeah, that was all the encouragement Dean needed.

If Cas could dance with two people at once, then Dean could flirt.

Simple.

So he pushed off the wall, heading toward the bar—

Only to be stopped by a firm grip on his wrist.

Dean turned, fully expecting it to be Charlie or Jo dragging him back to tell him he was being a dumbass.

But it wasn’t.

It was Cas.

And he did not look happy.

“What the hell are you doing?” Cas demanded, eyes sharp, voice just loud enough to be heard over the music.

Dean blinked. “Uh… getting a drink?”

Cas’ frown deepened. “That’s not what it looked like.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Oh yeah? And what did it look like?”

Cas exhaled sharply, looking frustrated. “Like you were going to sleep with that… man! .”

Dean stared. Then laughed, short and humorless. “Wow. Didn’t peg you for a homophobe, Cas.”

Cas’ expression twisted, equal parts shocked and offended. “ What? ”

Dean crossed his arms. “You got a problem with me flirting with a guy?”

Cas looked genuinely offended now. “Are you serious ? Dean, I would be a hypocrite if I had a problem with that.”

And yeah. That made Dean pause.

“…Then what’s your deal?”

Cas sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Dean, I’m upset because you’re cheating on Lisa.”

Dean blinked. “I’m—what?”

Cas gestured toward the bar. “I thought you and Lisa were happy. You guys have Ben! I thought—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “I just—I didn’t think you were the type of person who would do that.”

Dean’s mouth opened. Then closed.

Because—

Oh.

That’s what this was about.

Cas wasn’t judging him for being into guys. He was judging him because he thought Dean was screwing around behind Lisa’s back.

For a second, Dean just stood there, processing.

And then, to his own surprise, he laughed .

Cas scowled. “What’s so funny?”

Dean shook his head, chuckling. “Dude, Lisa and I are not a thing .”

Cas blinked. “You—what?”

Dean smirked, still amused despite everything. “Yeah, man. The whole gang co-parents Ben, but we’re not together .”

Cas stared at him, something flickering behind his eyes. “…Oh.”

And just like that, the tension shifted .

Dean suddenly felt lighter , like something unknotted in his chest.

He glanced at Cas, taking in the way he looked— genuinely relieved .

And for a second—just one stupid second—Dean thought, Maybe this is it. Maybe I should just tell him.

But then—

The British guy appeared, slinging an arm around Cas’ shoulders, grinning.

“There you are,” he said smoothly. “We were starting to think you’d run off on us.”

Then he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Cas’ cheek.

And just like that—

Dean sobered fast .

He felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

Cas had someone. Of course he did .

Dean had been so stupid to think otherwise.

So he did what he did best—shoved it all down, forced a grin, and clapped Cas on the shoulder.

“Well. Guess I’ll let you get back to your friends .”

Cas frowned, like he wanted to say something.

But Dean was already walking away.

And if Cas watched him go?

Dean didn’t see it.

Didn’t let himself see it.

Because some things were better left buried.

Chapter Text

Dean had been in a mood.

A real, full-blown, avoid-everyone, snap-at-everything, glare-at-inanimate-objects kind of mood.

The worst part? Everyone knew it.

It had started after that damn night at the bar, though Dean would rather swallow engine grease than admit why. Something about seeing Cas with another guy, about hearing him laugh with someone else—it had done something stupid to his brain. He’d been stuck in his own head ever since, going through the motions at the shop, keeping conversations clipped, and burying himself in work like it could smother whatever was brewing in his chest.

The crew had picked up on it fast.

"Boss, you gotta chill," Max finally said, arms crossed as she leaned against the workbench. "You’ve been brooding for days. It’s starting to scare the customers."

Dean shot her a look. " I do not brood."

"You absolutely do," Elliot chimed in from under the lifted hood of a Mustang. "It’s like Batman-level brooding, but with less cape and more grease stains."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "Do I look like I have time for this conversation?"

"No," Stacy said from across the garage, "but you do look like you need therapy, so we’re worried either way."

Dean opened his mouth, thought better of it, and just turned back to his work, mumbling, " I swear to god... "

Max, unfazed, rolled her eyes and got back to work, but not before muttering, "Dude needs a vacation or a date or a—"

Dean didn’t catch the last part, but judging by Elliot’s snort, it was not something he’d appreciate.

-x-

Familiar footsteps filled the quiet workspace. Dean felt it in his soul .

Cas. He was here to pick his car up.

His grip on the wrench tightened, heartbeat kicking up for no good reason.

"Max, you go handle it," he said quickly, stepping back from the vehicle he was working on.

Max raised an eyebrow. "You built half the parts in that car. What do I look like, a translator?"

" Just go ."

With a dramatic sigh, Max went. Dean busied himself with absolutely nothing —just stood there pretending to be deep in thought about a car that didn’t even need fixing.

A minute later, Max was back, arms crossed, looking far too smug.

"Nice try, boss. You’re the only one who speaks fluent ‘old car.’"

Dean let out a slow, controlled breath. Dammit.

Dean turned toward the car like he was marching to his execution.

Cas was standing beside it, trench coat looking as rumpled as ever, that damn patient expression on his face. Jack and Claire flanked him, their eyes bright with curiosity.

"Dean," Cas greeted, voice warm.

"Cas," Dean said, and wow, okay, that was way too stiff. He cleared his throat. "Uh, your car’s good to go. Had to tweak some things with the fuel system—whoever worked on it before had no damn clue what they were doing. I adjusted the timing chain, too. Should drive smoother now."

Cas nodded, but there was a flicker of something in his expression—confusion, maybe. Like he was waiting for something more .

Dean didn’t give it to him.

Cas’ phone buzzed in his pocket. "Excuse me," he said, stepping away to answer it.

And that’s when Dean realized he was alone.

With the kids .

Jack and Claire turned to him in unison, both looking far too serious for two kids under the age of ten.

"Hey, old man! What’s your deal?" Claire demanded, crossing her arms.

Dean blinked. "Excuse me?"

Jack, ever polite, took a different approach. "We noticed you being weird with our dad," he said, voice careful. "So, as Claire asked—what’s your deal?"

"Anyone who messes with Dad, messes with us !" Claire added, stepping forward like she was ready to throw hands . "Just because you’re nice to us doesn’t mean we’ll like you if you make him upset!"

Dean stared. "I—I didn’t make him upset!"

Jack tilted his head. "Then why did he frown after talking to you?"

Claire narrowed her eyes. "Yeah. Explain that , old man."

Dean opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, and then—

Elliot snorted behind him.

Dean whipped around to see his entire crew watching this unfold like it was the most entertaining thing they’d seen all week. Stacy actually had a damn soda in her hand, sipping it like a spectator at a wrestling match.

Dean groaned.

"Look," he muttered, turning back to the kids, "I’m not trying to mess with your dad, okay?"

Claire narrowed her eyes further, skeptical. Jack gave him a look .

Before Dean could dig himself deeper, Cas returned, pocketing his phone.

"Everything alright?" he asked, glancing between Dean and his kids.

"Peachy," Dean muttered.

Cas didn’t seem convinced, but he let it go as Dean continued with the car talk.

They wrapped up the conversation. Cas listened to Dean’s rundown of the car, nodded along, and, after one last polite smile, walked to the car.

But Dean saw it.

That slight downturn of his lips. The way his shoulders seemed a little stiffer than usual. The way his blue eyes flickered, like he was waiting for something that never came.

Dean kept his tone professional, focused on the damn car, but some part of him hated how Cas’ expression barely changed—how the warmth that was always there when they talked was missing.

Cas’ fingers flexed on the driver’s side door before he finally gave Dean a small, polite smile. "Thank you, Dean."

And just like that, he slid into the driver’s seat.

Dean stood there, hands in his pockets, feeling… off .

The kids climbed in after him, but not before Claire shot one last warning glare at Dean, like she was making sure he knew he was on thin ice. Jack too gave him a look.

Dean watched them get settled, something heavy pressing against his ribs. His gaze lingered on Cas as he adjusted his seatbelt, his movements slower than usual. Then—Cas sighed .

Cas sighed, adjusting his seatbelt, and Dean hated the look on his face—like he was disappointed, like he had hoped for more and hadn’t gotten it.

It was soft, barely noticeable, but Dean felt it.

Like something in him had just been punched.

Disappointment. He told himself.

Cas had hoped for more and hadn’t gotten it. He repeated to himself.

Dean clenched his jaw, shifting on his feet. He hated this feeling.

It was his own stupid fault. He’d been acting weird ever since the bar, keeping Cas at arm’s length, and for what? Because he felt some way about seeing him with someone else? That was on him . That wasn’t Cas’ problem.

But watching Cas sit there, so obviously let down, made something twist in his gut.

Screw it.

Before he could think too hard about it, before his dumbass brain could talk him out of it, Dean stepped forward.

"Hey—"

Cas paused, looking up at him.

Dean shifted on his feet. "Bobby and Ellen are hosting a dinner this weekend. You should come."

Cas’ expression brightened. "Really?"

And suddenly, Dean could breathe again.  But he  shrugged, way too casual . "Yeah. We can make it a secret. Surprise them… Bring the kids. And, uh… your boyfriend."

Cas frowned. "Boyfriend?"

Dean squinted. "Yeah? The one who kissed you in the Roadhouse?"

Cas stared at him for three full seconds . "Dean, that was Balthazar. He’s my friend."

Dean recoiled. "What kind of a name is that?!"

Jack and Claire giggled, and Cas, well, he just looked done .

Dean, flustered, doubled down. "Well—then your girlfriend! The brunette—"

Cas cut him off, voice firm. "Dean, I don’t know what impression you’re under, but I am currently single with no significant others."

Dean’s brain screeched to a halt. "Oh… that’s great! I mean—no, not great! I mean—"

Cas just raised an eyebrow. "Dean."

Dean exhaled. "So, uh… you’ll come?"

Cas smiled, soft, warm . "Yes. Thank you for the invite."

Dean nodded, watching them drive off, feeling something stupidly light in his chest.

Then—

" Someone’s got a crushhhhh ," Elliot sing-songed behind him.

Dean flushed . "Shut up and finish your job!"

Elliot grinned. "Whatever you say, boss."

Dean ignored them.

He had a dinner to look forward to.

And for once , he didn;t care how that thought made him smile.

Chapter Text

Dean was standing outside like an idiot. Dragging his feet, shifting awkwardly, and definitely not looking like he was waiting for someone. Nope. Not at all.

Except he absolutely did look like that.

Inside the house, behind the front window, an entire peanut gallery of his so-called friends and family were watching like it was prime-time TV. Sam, Jess, their kids. Charlie, Jo, Gilda, Benny. Garth, Bess, and their kids. Bobby, Ellen, and Pamela.

All of them. Staring. Judging.

Dean had half a mind to flip them all off—except that would admit he knew they were watching. So instead, he hunched his shoulders, kicked at a loose pebble, and pretended to study the front yard like it held the secrets of the universe.

Finally, Sam—who apparently had zero patience for Dean’s dignity—stepped onto the porch, arms crossed.

“Dude. Just come inside.”

Dean waved him off. “In a minute.”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “You waiting for someone?”

Dean scoffed. “No.” He said it too fast. Sam arched a knowing eyebrow, and Dean opened his mouth to dig himself deeper—

And then, like divine intervention, he was saved by the low, familiar rumble of an engine.

The Lincoln Continental pulled up, headlights cutting through the evening dusk, and Dean— like an absolute moth to a damn flame —perked up before he could stop himself.

He barely even noticed himself moving, half-dashing across the gravel driveway as the car rolled to a stop. And then—

Cas stepped out.

Trench coat billowing in the crisp air, looking like some kind of otherworldly being backlit by the headlights.

Dean absolutely does not swoon. Nope. Not even a little bit.

Before he could do or say anything stupid, though—

The kids came barreling from behind Cas and launched themselves at Dean.

He barely had time to react before both Claire and Jack collided with him, clinging to his arms and nearly knocking the breath out of him.

“Whoa, hey—” But before he could ask what the hell that was about—

“Dad’s been so happy!” Claire beamed.

“He’s really excited for today!” Jack added, his whole face glowing with enthusiasm. “Thank you!”

And just like that—Dean was toast.

Cas stepped forward, watching the scene unfold, his expression caught somewhere between fondness and barely concealed amusement. His eyes crinkled at the edges, and Dean—well.

Dean swallowed, feeling way too much .

So, naturally, he cleared his throat and glanced up at Cas, schooling his expression into something casual . “You good?”

Cas nodded. “Car’s all locked.” His voice was warm, his smile softer than usual. Then he turned to the kids. “Get off Dean, kids. You might be heavy—”

“Oh no, all’s good!” Dean cut in quickly, shifting his arms and flexing just a little as he adjusted the kids’ weight. Yeah, okay, maybe he was showing off. “I can handle it.”

Cas blinked.

His mouth parted slightly, his eyes flickering down— definitely not checking Dean out, right? —before he blinked again and shook his head, like rebooting a damn computer.

Dean smirked.

Cas shot him a look. “Ready to go in?”

Dean grinned. “After you, sweetheart.”

Cas let out a small, exasperated sigh—but his smile never faded as they headed toward the house, the kids still clinging to Dean, and the peanut gallery inside definitely getting an eyeful.

Dean had a feeling he wasn’t gonna live this down.

And honestly?

He didn’t really mind.

-x-

The second Cas stepped inside, the room erupted .

Sam was the first to launch himself at Cas, followed immediately by Jo and Ash, all of them ruffling his hair, clapping him on the back, loud in their excitement.

“’Bout damn time, man,” Jo grinned, squeezing his shoulder.

“You still got that weird, serious face,” Ash added, smirking. “Good to know some things never change.”

Cas, for his part, looked pleasantly surprised, returning the greetings with small nods and an easy, natural warmth. Jess, Charlie, Gilda, Benny, Garth, and Bess all took turns introducing themselves, and Cas, ever polite, replied in that even, sure voice, completely at ease despite the overwhelming welcome.

But then the crowd shifted.

Cas’ vision landed on Bobby, Ellen, and Pamela, and the energy in the room changed.

Silence settled.

“What’s happening?” Jack whispered, tugging at Dean’s sleeve.

Dean didn’t answer.

Because Bobby—gruff, steady Bobby—was staring at Cas like he’d seen a damn ghost.

And then, with a rough exhale, Bobby stepped forward, clapped a firm hand on Cas’ shoulder, and squeezed. “Boy.” His voice was gruff as ever, but his eyes shone in the dim light. “You’re really here.”

Cas blinked rapidly. “Bobby—” his voice wavered, but Bobby shook his head slightly.

“Just—it’s good to see you, kid. All grown up.”

Cas swallowed hard. Dean could see him struggling to keep his composure, but then Ellen was right there , wrapping Cas in a hug so tight it nearly knocked the air out of him.

“About time you came back!” Ellen scolded, though her voice was thick with emotion. “How have you been? What have you been up to?”

Cas hugged her back, tight and secure. “I’ve been good, Ellen. How about you?”

Before Ellen could answer, Pamela swooped in , dragging Cas into the hug, laughing softly. “Why don’t we all get comfortable before the interrogation starts?”

Cas—normally composed, normally careful with his emotions—looked so overwhelmed, so touched , that Dean had to look away for a second because wow, okay, that’s a lot.

Across the room, Claire crossed her arms, impatient. “Alright, enough emotions—let’s eat !”

Dean snorted, shaking himself out of it. “Alright, alright, let’s go, ya little gremlin.” He let the kids down, and they immediately ran to Cas, hugging him tight.

Jess, watching with curiosity, smiled. “And who are these two?”

Jack straightened up, offering his polite little waveTM. “Hello. I am Jack.”

Claire grinned. “And I’m Claire.”

“And these are my kids.” Sam introduced his own, gesturing them forward.

“And these are mine,” Garth added, stepping up with his own.

Pamela clapped her hands. “Why don’t you kids go play for a bit? Food’s still finishing up.”

The kids nodded eagerly, quickly scattering to where Bobby was already entertaining them. With the little ones occupied, the adults gathered at the dining table, plates passed around, drinks poured, and—

The chaos began.

-x-

“So, Cas,” Sam started off normal enough. “What have you been up to all these years?”

Cas answered easily and few normal questions happened before—

“Have you ever pulled something weird out of a patient?!”

“Oh my god, Charlie?!” Dean nearly choked.

“No, no, let him speak,” Gilda said, holding up a hand, looking far too interested .

Cas laughed , amused at the sudden turn in conversation. “I once had to remove an entire toy dinosaur from a man’s anal cavity—”

“I knew it!” Charlie fist-pumped.

The conversation spiraled from there.

Stories flew across the table at warp speed , each one worse than the last.

“—so then Dean decides he’s gonna drop his pants and yell PUDDING! ” Benny cackled.

Dean groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Benny, please.”

“Hey, you should be proud!” Garth added cheerfully. “You got us out of an arrest warrant!”

Cas, for his part, just sat back, entirely amused, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he listened.

Dean could feel the embarrassment piling up, ready to boil over—

Until one of Sam’s kids tugged on his sleeve, looking determined.

“Tell Claire and Jack that you’re my blood dad!”

The table went silent .

Jess frowned. “Wait, what?”

One of Garth’s kids nodded enthusiastically, hugging his dad’s leg. “Yeah! Dad is my blood dad too!”

Cas, confused, looked down at his own kids. “What’s going on?”

Jack tilted his head, confused. “Why are they acting like that?”

Claire, crossing her arms, huffed. “We just said we love our not-blood family and whether they liked theirs too.”

Pamela, blinking, glanced at Cas. “What do they mean, ‘not blood’?”

Dean almost stepped in, not wanting the kids to feel uncomfortable, but then—

Cas, gentle as ever, took over.

He crouched slightly, placing a soft hand on Claire’s shoulder. “Claire and Jack are mine,” he explained. “Just not biologically.”

A hush fell over the room as Cas continued.

“Michael, my stepbrother, got a girl pregnant and disappeared before the baby was even born. The mother, not wanting to keep the child, was going to abandon her—not even put her up for adoption. I decided no child deserved to be abandoned the way I had been.”

His other hand rested lightly on Jack, who instinctively leaned into him. “Two years later, Lucifer—my other stepbrother—got my friend Kelly pregnant. When she died in childbirth, he dusted his hands off and left the baby behind, saying it wasn’t his concern anymore. So I took the baby in, too. Kelly had wanted to name her son Jack. And so…” Cas looked down at Jack with quiet warmth. “Here we are.”

Cas straightened slightly, expression unwavering. “At twenty-two, I have two children who are mine. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

A long silence followed.

Then Cas simply added, “Family isn’t about blood. It’s about choosing each other.”

Bobby was the first to cough, a little grumbly one, as Ellen wiped her eyes.

Pamela cleared her throat way too aggressively.

And Dean?

Dean just stared at Cas, feeling something deep in his chest shift.

Jess, visibly moved, looked at her own kids. “See, that’s how it works,” she murmured. “Bobby and Ellen aren’t our blood, either, but they’re still family.”

The kids nodded , finally seeming to understand, and Bobby, still clearing his throat, pushed back his chair. “Come on, kids. There’s something you should see.”

Bobby led everyone to the porch, where an old wooden sign hung, weathered but still strong.

Cas tilted his head, staring at it, brow furrowing in recognition.

Bobby ran his fingers over the carved letters. “Your dad made this a long time ago.” He turned to Claire and Jack, voice warm. “And this house? It’s always been his too.”

Jack’s eyes went wide. “So… we belong here too?”

Bobby, gruff as ever: “Damn right you do.”

Ellen smiled softly. “And you can call us your grandparents.”

Claire and Jack cheered , throwing themselves at Bobby and Ellen, hugging them tightly.

Dean, leaning against the porch railing, watched Cas’ face go soft in that rare, real way.

And something warm and tight and good settled in Dean’s chest.

-x-

Later, after the plates were cleared and the chaos settled, Dean found Cas standing outside, looking up at the stars.

Dean stepped next to him, bumping their shoulders lightly. “You good?”

Cas nodded, but there’s something quiet about him. “ I forgot how much I missed this place.”

Dean hummed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Yeah. It misses you too.”

Cas glanced at him, something unreadable in his gaze. “Thank you.”

Dean swallowed. “For what?”

Cas looked at him like he saw everything . “For bringing me home.”

Dean’s chest felt stupidly tight, but instead of dealing with that, he just nodded and looked away.

Then, from inside—

“Dad, are we leaving?!” Claire asked, wearing her shoes, her mind already set in leaving apparently.

“I am tired.” Jack said, waddling towards Cas with untied shoes.

Cas just smiled , as he lifted Jack up, Claire following her brother quickly.

Cas stared at Dean warm and lingering, before heading to his car.

Dean stayed on the porch for a second longer, staring after Cas.

Because damn if this doesn’t feel like something he wants to last.

Chapter Text

Dean had been riding a quiet high ever since dinner at Bobby’s. Nothing earth-shattering had happened—no big confessions, no dramatic moments—but something had shifted. It was subtle, but it was there.

Cas still texted him, and Dean still texted back. Same casual tone, same everyday nonsense. But there was a warmth to it now, something easy and familiar that should have freaked him out but… didn’t.

It sat in his chest like a well-worn leather jacket, comfortable and just right.

Currently, he was on his usual midday break, making his way to Gilda’s Café—his go-to spot for coffee and maybe something sweet. 

Who was he kidding? It was a pie day.

Then again, when wasn’t it a pie day?

The little bell above the door chimed as he walked in, the smell of fresh coffee and baked goods wrapping around him. Gilda looked up from behind the counter and grinned.

“Well, well, if it isn’t my most predictable customer.”

Dean smirked, already making his way to the counter. “Predictable? C’mon, Gilda. I’m a man of spontaneity and mystery.”

Gilda snorted. “Spontaneity? You come in here at the same time every other day, order the same damn thing, and if you don’t get pie, I start to worry you’ve been replaced by an alien.”

Dean chuckled. “Fair. Speaking of—” He tapped the glass display case. “Lemme get a slice of that cherry pie and a large black coffee.”

“Already had it ready before you even walked in,” Gilda said smugly, sliding his order across the counter.

Dean took the coffee with one hand, the plate of pie with the other, and raised the cup in salute. “Well, thanks for the nourishment.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

He turned to leave, already anticipating the first bite of pie—when something caught his eye.

At a corner booth, two familiar figures sat alone.

Dean’s brow furrowed. He made his way over, coffee in one hand, pie plate balanced in the other. “Kids?”

Claire and Jack looked up to see him standing there, concern etched all over his face.

“What are you guys doing here all by yourselves?”

Jack blinked, then smiled like this was a totally normal situation. “Oh! We’re waiting for Dad.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “And what about your Uncle Gabe?”

Claire scowled, arms crossing over her chest. “Bailed on us last minute.”

Dean sighed, already unimpressed. “And when’s Cas supposed to get here?”

Jack glanced at the clock on the café wall. “His shift ends in the evening.”

“Sometimes at night,” Claire added.

Dean’s frown deepened. Hell no. There was no way in good conscience he was just gonna leave these kids sitting here all day.

“Yeah, that’s not happening.” He pulled out his phone and quickly fired off a text to Cas:

“Found your kids at the café. Taking them with me. Don’t freak out.”

Then he tucked his phone away and jerked his head toward the door. “C’mon. You’re coming with me.”

Jack perked up. “Where to?”

“My garage. I got work to do, and you two can hang out there instead of being stuck here all day.”

Claire looked at him suspiciously. “You’re just kidnapping us?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “It ain’t kidnapping if I texted your dad about it. Now move it, smartass.”

Claire and Jack exchanged glances before grabbing their stuff and following him out.

Dean bought some stuff for the kids and took a final bite of his pie, because priorities, and muttered to himself as he led them to the car.

“Uncle Gabe, my ass.”

-x-

Dean was surprised by how well-behaved the kids were in the car.

He’d had his fair share of wrangling Sam and Jess’ kids—a chaotic mix of energy and never-ending questions. And don’t even get him started on Garth and Bess’ little kids, who treated his Impala like a jungle gym every time they visited.

But Jack and Claire? They weren’t a mess.

They weren’t shy or awkward, either—just comfortable. Like they’d known him forever. Like it was normal to be in his car, listening to classic rock, heading to his garage like it was some regular Tuesday.

And the way Jack talked? Dean swore it was like listening to tiny Cas. The same weird pauses, the same soft curiosity, the same innocent excitement over the most random things. It made something in his chest go all warm and tight.

They pulled up at the garage, and Dean hopped out first, grabbing the bag of treats he’d picked up for the kids. Claire and Jack followed, slinging their school bags over their shoulders.

They barely made it inside before Elliot popped his head up from under a car, wiping grease off his hands.

“Ohhh, who do we have here?” he cooed in a ridiculous baby voice.

Claire rolled her eyes so hard she nearly saw the back of her skull. Jack, meanwhile, furrowed his brows in pure, deep confusion—like he was mentally calculating whether he should respond in kind.

Dean sighed. “Ignore him.”

Elliot gasped, offended. “Rude.”

Dean just rolled his eyes and led the kids to his office, setting the treat bag down in front of them. “Alright, munchkins, dig in.”

Jack gasped softly, eyes lighting up. Claire, playing it cool, peeked inside, then side-eyed Dean suspiciously.

“You bought these for us?” she asked.

Dean shrugged. “Maybe.”

Claire squinted. “What if we don’t like it?”

Dean just smirked, leaving them to their snacks while he went to check in with Max, Stacy, and Elliot.

“Kids are with me today,” he told them. “Their Uncle Gabe flaked, and their dad’s at work. If you guys gotta leave when the time hits, go ahead—I’ll be here working on the engine model.”

Stacy waggled her eyebrows. “Dean Winchester? Babysitting?”

Dean scoffed. “It ain’t babysitting. It’s… supervised hanging out. ”

“Uh-huh.”

Shaking his head, Dean made his way back to his office, only to find that—unsurprisingly—the kids had finished eating and were now hovering around his workspace.

He should’ve expected it.

Jack, wide-eyed and fascinated, was watching his every move like Dean was some kind of magician.

Claire, on the other hand, leaned against the workbench and grinned up at him with the exact kind of smugness that usually meant trouble.

“So…” she drawled. “What exactly are you doing?”

Dean arched a brow, setting a wrench down. “Building an engine prototype for a car brand. Gotta pitch it next week.”

Jack made an awed noise. “You build cars?”

Dean huffed a laugh. “Not from scratch, but yeah—I fix ‘em up, modify ‘em, improve ‘em. Sometimes, I make the engine from scratch though!”

Jack’s expression lit up like he’d just discovered fire. “That’s so cool.”

Dean fought the stupid grin threatening to spread on his face.

Claire, smirking, crossed her arms. “You gonna explain it, or just flex?”

Dean snorted. “I don’t ‘flex.’”

Claire gave him a look.

Dean sighed, but couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed. Instead, he started explaining in the simplest way he could—breaking down how engines worked, why certain modifications were better, and what exactly he was trying to do with this prototype.

At first, he expected their attention spans to disappear in five minutes tops.

But they stayed.

Claire, bold as ever, pointed at a nearby toolbox. “Can I help?”

Dean was caught between amusement and concern. “You know anything about cars, kid?”

She lifted her chin. “No. But I can hand you tools.”

Dean smirked. “Alright, fair enough. You’re on tool duty.”

Claire nodded like this was a great honor and immediately set to work handing him the wrong tools every other time on purpose just to be a little menace.

Jack, meanwhile, just watched in quiet amazement, his hands clasped behind his back as he occasionally mimicked Dean’s focused expressions. Furrowed brows, head tilts, little frowns of concentration.

It was so damn adorable Dean nearly dropped a wrench at one point.

And all the while, Max, Stacy, and Elliot stood near the entrance of the garage, watching the whole thing like it was prime entertainment.

Stacy, whispering: “Are we seeing this?”

Elliot, whispering back: “Oh, we’re seeing this.”

Max snapped a few sneaky pics and sent them straight to Sam with zero context.

A few seconds later, Sam’s text pinged back.

“What the hell is happening at the garage today??”

Dean, still oblivious, continued explaining engine mechanics to his tiny, deeply invested audience—none the wiser to the blackmail material now circulating in Sam’s possession.

-x-

Dean heard the distinct rumble of the Lincoln Continental pulling up outside and looked up just in time to see Cas step out.

A little breathless. A little windswept. Very grateful.

Very handsome.

Dean blinked. Nope. Not thinking that. Kids were right here!

Cas, smoothing a hand down his trench coat, made his way into the garage, his blue eyes instantly landing on Claire and Jack.

“Hey, Dad,” Claire greeted, arms crossed, smirking just a little.

Jack, ever the sunshine child, beamed and waved. “Hi, Dad!”

Cas exhaled, clearly relieved to see them both unharmed. He turned to Dean, expression soft. “Thank you for watching over them.”

Dean shrugged, leaning against the workbench. “No big deal.”

Before Cas could say anything else—

GRRRRLLLL .

The sound of a stomach growling echoed through the garage.

Dean’s stomach.

His traitorous stomach.

A beat of silence.

Then—

GRRRLLLL.

Claire’s stomach.

GRLL.

Jack’s.

Another pause.

Then—

GRRRRRRLLLLLL.

Cas’.

For a full second, the entire room was dead silent.

Then, all hell broke loose.

Claire snorted first, covering her mouth before breaking into full-blown laughter. Jack, bless him, tried to be polite but ended up giggling uncontrollably.

Dean, who absolutely did not blush at any of this, covered his face with his hand.

Cas, meanwhile, just blinked, tilting his head like a confused puppy. “I suppose none of us have eaten dinner yet.”

Dean sighed dramatically before clapping his hands together.

“Alright,” he declared. “We’re fixing this. My place. Burgers.”

Jack cheered. Claire fist-pumped. Cas smiled warmly.

Dean… ignored how stupidly soft that smile made him feel.

Instead, he grabbed his keys and started heading for the door, shaking his head.

What a damn circus.

Chapter Text

Dean barely got the door unlocked before Claire and Jack pushed past him, kicking off their shoes and making themselves at home like they’d been here a million times before.

Jack plopped down at the dining table, looking around with fascination, while Claire walked straight over to the kitchen, searching for something, before she gave Dean a skeptical glance.

“Where’s the apron?” she asked.

Dean chuckled lightly, setting his keys on the counter. “And why do you need that?”

Claire arched a brow. “To help you, old man”

Dean grumbled something about kids these days having no respect , as he lifted Claire over to the dining table, as she giggled happily. Dean then turned toward Cas, who was hovering awkwardly near the entrance of the kitchen like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to be here.

Cas caught Dean’s gaze and cleared his throat. “Would you like help cooking?”

Dean blinked, then shook his head. “Dude, sit down. I got this.” He couldn’t believe he had to not only dismiss a child but also Cas.

Cas hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Cas frowned, clearly displeased by the dismissal. “But—”

“Cas,” Dean said firmly, pointing at the dining table. “Sit.”

Cas sighed but obeyed, sinking into a chair with all the reluctance of a man defeated. Claire and Jack, already catching on, smirked at their dad’s dramatics.

“Good decision. He is useless in the kitchen,” Claire stage-whispered to Dean.

Dean smirked. “Good to know.”

Cas scowled at them both. “I am not useless.”

Jack, sweet but not exactly helpful, patted Cas’ arm. “It’s okay, Dad. We love you anyway.”

Dean chuckled as Cas huffed and crossed his arms, officially sulking.

Dean turned his attention to the kitchen, pulling out ingredients. His hands moved instinctively—chopping onions, seasoning the patties, buttering the buns—until he reached for the Worcestershire sauce and hesitated.

Cas used to love this stuff as a kid. Back when they were little, Dean remembered Cas begging for extra sauce on his burgers.

Without thinking too much about it, Dean added a little extra to the mixture.

Behind him, Cas tried to peek over his shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t need help—”

Dean swatted him away with a spatula. “Out.”

Claire and Jack cackled.

-x-

When the food was finally ready, Dean set down a plate in front of everyone, then dropped into the seat next to Cas with a satisfied sigh.

“Alright,” he said, stretching his arms behind his head. “Dig in.”

Cas took a bite first, and the moment he did, he made a noise.

A moan .

A deeply satisfied, borderline obscene moan.

Dean nearly dropped his burger.

“These burgers make me happy,” Cas murmured, completely unaware of what he’d just done.

Dean’s brain short-circuited.

Claire and Jack? They lost it .

“We’ve never seen Dad like this before!” Claire gasped between wheezes of laughter.

Jack nodded, eyes wide. “He looks like he saw heaven.”

Cas blinked, looking between them, confused. “I… don’t understand.”

Dean, very focused on his plate, grumbled, “Yeah, no kidding.”

The conversation that followed was easy, filled with laughter, teasing, and stories. Jack rambled on about a book he was reading, Claire complained about school, and Cas—relaxed and unguarded—listened to them both with fond amusement.

Dean watched them, taking it all in.

And then—somewhere between Jack’s excitement, Claire’s eye rolls, and Cas’ soft smiles—something settled deep in his chest.

The thought of commitment. Of something real. Of a life that included messy dinners and teasing and sulky blue-eyed man who hated being left out of the kitchen.

And instead of freaking out , like he always thought he would, Dean just… felt at peace.

Like maybe he wanted this.

Like maybe he always had.

-x-

Later that night, after too much food and too much teasing, they all ended up on the couch.

Cas, exhausted, had dozed off first—head tilted slightly to the side, mouth just barely open.

Claire had sprawled across the armrest, knocked out cold.

Jack, curled up against Cas’ other side, clutched a pillow to his chest and snored softly.

Dean sat across from them in the recliner, staring at the trio with an expression he didn’t quite have a name for.

His whole life, he’d been running. From commitment, from attachment, from anything that even looked like settling down. His parents’ deaths had taught him, early on, that nothing lasted. That getting comfortable meant setting yourself up for heartbreak.

So he’d chased skirts in high school, stayed unattached through college, and even after he’d gotten his life together—gotten his business together—he still hadn’t let himself want anything permanent.

But looking at Cas now, knocked out with his kids pressed against him like they’d done this a thousand times before…

Dean couldn’t remember why he was so scared.

Cas still slept like he used to when he was eight years old—completely boneless , like the weight of the world had finally let go of him.

Dean used to think that staring at Cas like this made him a creep.

Now?

Now, he just found it endearing .

And the thought hit him, sudden and undeniable— I want to be part of their life.

Not just as some friend who checked in now and then. Not just as someone who watched from a distance.

As family …

Cas’ phone buzzed loudly on the coffee table.

Dean startled, then quickly looked away so he wouldn’t seem too obvious about watching them sleep.

Cas stirred, eyes fluttering open as he groggily reached for his phone.

Dean watched as the sleepiness faded—replaced with sudden realization as Cas saw the time.

“Oh,” Cas mumbled, sitting up. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

Dean smirked. “I mean, you did eat a lot of burgers. Food coma was bound to happen.”

Cas shot him a glare that had absolutely no heat behind it before quickly gathering his things.

Dean, meanwhile, carried the kids out to the car —Jack still completely dead to the world, Claire grumbling in her sleep. He carefully strapped them in before stepping back.

Cas lingered for a second, looking at him like he wanted to say something.

Then, before Dean could react, Cas leaned in and pressed a quick, warm kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

And with that, he climbed into the car and drove off—completely unaware that he had just short-circuited Dean’s entire system.

Dean stood there like a moron , hand pressed to his cheek, staring after the car like some lovesick idiot in a romance movie.

“…Yeah,” he finally muttered. “I can see my future with him.”

And for the first time in his life, that thought didn’t terrify him.

Not even a little bit.

Chapter Text

The Roadhouse was packed tonight, filled with the usual mix of locals, and bikers, all throwing back drinks and swapping stories. Dean sat at their usual corner booth, nursing a beer, trying real hard to ignore the fact that his friends were all staring at him like a pack of hungry wolves.

Jo was the first to break. “Dean, buddy. We can’t do this anymore.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Do what?”

Charlie crossed her arms, unimpressed. “Sit here night after night and watch you pine after the damn DILF.”

Ash snorted into his beer. “Not DILF , Castiel!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Charlie said with a wave of her hand. “Point is, you’re miserable and making the rest of us suffer.”

Dean huffed. “Oh, come on —”

“Dean,” Jo cut in, leaning forward. “It’s painful . We all see it. Hell, I bet even Cas sees it, and he’s a parent and a resident —his brain is too fried to pick up on normal human behavior, but even he has to notice.”

“I don’t pine ,” Dean muttered, sinking lower into his seat.

“Dude, you dreamily sighed into your drink when Cas texted you earlier,” Ash pointed out. “I watched it happen.”

“I was exhaling , you moron,” Dean shot back, but it didn’t hold much weight because yeah, okay, maybe he was losing his mind over Cas just a little.

Maybe a lot .

But before anyone could add more fuel to the fire, Dean suddenly sat up straighter, slammed his beer down on the table, and declared, “I’m gonna confess. I’m ready.”

A beat of silence.

Then—

SMACK.

Dean yelped when someone slapped his arm from behind.

“Good for you!” came a very familiar, very amused voice. “Now I can stop listening to my brother whining about your oblivious ass.”

Dean froze .

The gang, as one , turned to the new arrival.

Gabe.

Standing there with his usual shit-eating grin, hands in his pockets like he hadn’t just rocked Dean’s entire existence .

Dean whipped around. “ Gabe, what the fuck?! ”

Jo and Ash, in perfect sync, whispered, “Holy shit.”

Dean glared at the menace. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” Gabe replied smoothly. “And I gotta say, this is delicious karma. All the good I have given to the world~” He sighed.

Dean narrowed his eyes. “And what do you mean Cas has been whining ?”

Gabe smirked. “Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Yes, actually, I would —”

Gabe jerked his head toward the bar. “Why don’t you go ask him yourself?”

Dean turned—and sure enough, there was Cas , standing by the bar, nursing a beer, looking as effortlessly gorgeous as ever.

Dean swallowed hard.

“Go on, loverboy,” Gabe teased. “Go confess to Cassie .”

Jo gave Dean an encouraging nod. Charlie muttered something about finally getting some peace and quiet after this. Ash, useless as ever, just grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.

Dean took a deep breath, downed the rest of his beer, and stood.

It was now or never.

Dean made his way to the bar, every step feeling both too fast and too slow at the same time.

Cas noticed him approaching and gave him a small, tired smile. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Dean said, suddenly feeling awkward as hell .

He hesitated, then gestured to the empty stool beside Cas. “Mind if I sit?”

Cas shook his head. “Of course not.”

Dean slid in next to him, fidgeting with his beer bottle.

For a second, neither of them spoke.

Dean cleared his throat. “So, uh. Gabe said you’ve been whining about me.”

Cas blinked. “He said that?”

Dean smirked. “Yeah.”

Cas sighed, shaking his head. “I have not been whining.”

Dean just hummed. “Mmm. Sure sounds like something a whiner would say.”

Cas gave him a look—the kind that usually shut Dean up—but tonight, it just made him grin wider.

Dean took a deep breath. “Look, Cas. There’s something I gotta say. And I need you to really hear me, alright?”

Cas turned his full attention to him, defeated blue eyes locked onto Dean’s face. “I’m listening.”

Dean exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, not sure why Cas looked defeated. But he shook his head, he had bigger things to focus on.

“I’ve been… terrified of settling down my whole life. Commitment’s always felt like this big, scary thing I didn’t wanna touch. And I thought that was just how I was wired, y’know? That I was always gonna be the guy who couldn’t stay in one place, who couldn’t want more.”

Cas stayed quiet, letting him talk.

Dean swallowed. “But then I saw you. You —with Claire and Jack, crashed out on my couch like you belonged there. And for the first time, I didn’t feel scared.”

Cas’ lips parted slightly, his fingers tightening around his beer. HIs previously defeated eyes now looked hopeful.

Dean pressed on. “The age gap between us? I thought that would bother me. The idea of committing? I thought that would freak me out.” He let out a short, breathless laugh. “But none of it does. Not when it’s you.”

Cas was staring at him now, eyes slightly wide, mouth parted in surprise.

Dean swallowed. “So, uh. What I’m saying is… I want this. You . The kids. All of it.”

Silence stretched between them.

Dean’s heart hammered.

Then—

Cas set his beer down.

Turned in his seat.

And, without a single word, grabbed Dean by the front of his shirt and kissed him .

The kiss was firm, certain —like Cas had been waiting for this.

Dean, already lost in the feeling of finally , melted into it, gripping Cas’ waist, pulling him closer.

And then—

A loud whistle cut through the bar.

Followed by—

“GET SOME, WINCHESTER!”

Cas pulled back, startled. Dean groaned.

He turned just in time to see the entire gang watching, grinning like a bunch of lunatics.

Ash had his arms in the air like he’d just won a bet.

Charlie was openly cheering .

Jo was shaking her head, looking both amused and deeply unimpressed.

Gabe?

Gabe was smirking .

Cas, eyes still dark with lingering heat, calmly turned back to Dean. “I believe,” he said evenly, “we should leave.”

Dean gulped . “Yeah. Good plan.”

Cas took his hand.

Dragged him toward the door.

And behind them, the gang erupted into hollers, whistles, and someone (probably Ash ) shouting, “HAVE FUN, YOU FILTHY ANIMALS!”

Dean didn’t even look back.

He was way too busy thinking about how much fun they were about to have.

-x-

They barely made it through Dean’s front door before Cas pushed him against it , kissing him like he was making up for lost time .

Dean groaned, gripping Cas’ hips, tugging him closer.

Cas’ voice was a low murmur against his lips. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Dean shivered. “Me too, babe. Me too.”

Cas smirked. “Then let’s stop talking.”

And, well.

They definitely stopped talking.

The two waddled towards the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes in their way. Dean fell backwards on the bed with an oof as Cas straddled over him, removing his shirt, giving Dean a good view  of Cas’ lean muscles.

“Oh, wow.” Dean said breathlessly.

“Look who’s talking.” Cas said as he unbuttoned Dean’s shirt, quickly bending down to kiss him right on his chest, getting Dean to arch up into the kiss and moan loudly. “Embodiment of perfection.” Cas said, starting a trail of kisses from Dean’s chest to his pants.

“Cas, damn-” Dean breathed out as he saw blue siren eyes stare up at him. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Cas smirked lightly as his hands worked on removing Dean’s pants, kissing softly and pulling out wonderful noises from the man on the bed. He then reached for his own pants when Dean got up, resting on his elbows.

“Can- Can I?” Dean asked and Cas’ hands stilled around his own pants before he nodded and dropped his arms down.

Cas’ eyes stayed on Dean as he crawled towards where Cas was standing, his eyes trained on Cas’ pants. Cas inhaled sharply as Dean, instead of using his hands, brought the zip down using his teeth. 

He made quite a show, wiggling his ass to entice Cas which only got the man to chuckle darkly.

“Are you enjoying this honey?” Cas asked to which Dean nodded, his mouth full from helping Cas out.

After a while, Dean could feel Cas getting impatient, his hands hovering over Dean, wanting to touch him and Dean felt himself preen at how badly Cas wanted him. Most likely sensing Dean’s pride, Cas pulled Dean off of him by the hair and smiled at the man below him.

“Why don’t you lie down sweetheart?” Cas asked as he pushed Dean back on bed. “You had your share of fun…” Dean saw Cas get on top of him. “Now it’s my turn to ravish you.”

And the dark look Cas had on his face? Dean understood one thing.

He was fucked.

Literally and figuratively.

Chapter Text

Mom’s leaving him with just his plushie. At least Pamela and Ellen are nice? But Mom’s still leaving him. Castiel didn’t know if she was going to come back to get him but he decided to not focus on that and watch the TV like he was supposed to. But mom was leaving him.

Suddenly Pamela rushed out, yelling which got Castiel curious. He decided to sneak out to see a boy and Pamela enter the house, he could still hear noises so he stood in the hallway, holding his emotional support plushie.

Soon a tall boy came in, chucking his shoes off before sighing, “Ok, what’s the deal.”

As the boy closed the door and turned, Castiel stood there, clutching his plushie and staring at him with wide blue eyes.

“What the f-”

“Hey Castiel!” Castiel turned to Ellen who had called his name. “Why don’t you go watch the TV? The commercial is over.”

“Okay!” Castiel ran back, knowing he was supposed to just sit in front of the TV. Nobody wanted to tell him but he knew, his mom had left him.

He sat there in front of the TV like he was supposed to, pretend that the older people were not talking about him just a room away. His mom had left him.

He sat there, watching TV, until he had to pee. Deciding he could find the restroom on his own and trouble the others, he walked around, just in time to hear Ellen say, “Dean.”

“Yes?” Castiel heard a nervous voice asking.

“You will take care of him.” Ellen said.

“What?! Why?!” Castiel heard a boy ask. Were they talking about taking care of him? 

“Why?! You are asking WHY?!” Castiel startled at Ellen’s loud voice. “Sonny called me about what was going on today! Yesterday, some random girl came to the house and asked me to give something to you and it was her photos!”

“Eh?! Why is that my fault? I wonder who it was though…” Castiel heard the reply and agreed. Why were photos something to scream about?

“Go baby-sit and learn to behave!” Ellen yelled and Castiel suddenly felt the urgency of his pee. Oh no.

Deciding he couldn’t hold it in longer, Castiel moved near the entrance of the dining area and peered in, not sure if he could enter.

“Ah Castiel!” Jo smiled. “What’s up?”

“I- I would like to use the restroom please.” He said, squirming lightly in place.

“You need the bathroom?” Pamela asked this time. “Well then…” She slapped the tall boy’s back, propelling him front. 

“Pamela!”

“Stop moaning Dean.” The first boy that had entered with Pamela said. “Go do your job, babysitter.”

“Don’t take out your frustrations on the child dude. That’s so not cool.” Another boy Castiel was seeing for the first time said, shaking his head.

“What?! How dare you say that!” The tall boy, Dean,  said frustratedly but Castiel couldn’t hold it in longer.

“Excuse me, but it’s really urgent…” Castiel said, squirming vigorously in place.

“Let them be, boy. I will take you.” Bobby, Ellen’s husband, said, getting up from the table. 

“Nah, I will do it!” Dean said, running to Castiel. “I will take care of Cas so well that yall will be astonished! Mark my words!”

And with that, Cas was guided out of the room by Dean, who looked... safe. Loud, but safe. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

Besides, the man had given Castiel his first nickname.

Cas.

-x-

Cas was running. He didn’t know where he was going but after hearing his teachers talk about his mom and how he had been abandoned, Cas left. He didn’t know where he was but at the moment he didn’t care. His eyes were tearing and his chest was hurting.

Feeling tired out by the whole ordeal, he decided to sit in the sandbox he had come across, crying and trying to feel better. His mom left him and now he was the spectacle of the town. Everyone was talking about him. He hated it.

Castiel didn’t know how long he had been there in the playground but he startled when he heard a familiar voice yell, “What the hell are you doing here?!”

Cas jumped at the voice before turning around and bowing. “I-I’m sorry!”

There was a beat silence before Cas heard Dean talk slowly, “Well, it’s okay… now that I’ve found you. We’re going home.”

“Home?!” Cas perked up. “We are going home?” Will he stop being a spectacle, the other side to his teacher’s talk?

“Yeah. Bobby and Ellen’s!” Dean smiled but Cas deflated. Oh, not mom.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Dean asked, crouching. “Was it because I’m late? I’m sorry. I’ll be on time tomorrow, okay?”

Cas kept staring at the ground before saying, “I should have done the chores… I should have not cared if I was tired… I should have eaten everything mom made even though I was too full… So now Mom hates me.”

Cas hated how his body started trembling but he couldn’t hold it back. 

“I’ll be a good from now… please tell Mom to take me back.” Tears dropped on the sand below them, turning them into dark brown.  “Please take me to my mom. I can tell my teacher’s that my mom didn’t disappear. I can tell them it’s fine I don’t have a dad. I don’t want to be lonely.” The controlled tears now burst out, Cas trying to physically hold them back with his hands.

“Cas…” Dean said softly, patting Cas’ shoulder. Cas’ body trembled vigorously as Dean reassured him. “Nobody hates you, Cas.” Cas cried even louder as Dean pulled him into a hug.

Cas didn’t know when he had come back home but when he woke up, Ash and Dean were on his side, cuddling him tightly.

Safe. Warm. 

Seeing he had woken up, the two had asked him to get ready for dinner.

As dinner continued, Dean told Bobby and Ellen about his extra lessons and therefore not being able to pick up Cas, to which Cas apologized but was quickly chided by Bobby for being too formal and stating he will pick Cas up tomorrow after a nice chat with the teachers.

Cas didn’t know why he felt such overwhelming comfort from the way they talked to him.

For the first time in the past few days, Cas felt calm.

Especially Dean - he was Cas’ person.

-x-

Class today was weird. They were talking about relationships and marriage.  8 years old asking their teacher what marriage and love and everything was.

Hearing their teacher’s answer, April, his classmate, turned to him. “We should get married!”

“Why?”

“Did you not hear the teacher? You marry your best friend or at least someone nice.” April said. “You are nice, so?”

“I have a best friend. Dean. I will marry him.” Castiel said. And it made sense - whatever the teacher said about love and marriage, it matched what he felt for Dean. He knew Dean the best - psychoanalyzing everyday to a tee and Dean not being offended. They enjoyed spending time together, so why not?

“EW! You can’t do that! You two are boys.” April chided.

“The teacher didn’t say anything about that?”

“You are weird!” April scrunched her nose and turned away and Cas decided that was that.

As they waited for pick up, Cas waiting for Bobby or Ellen, he was surprised to find Dean waiting.

“Who is that?” April, and her posse, asked.

“That’s Dean. My best friend.” Cas said cooly before walking to Dean. Internally, he was freaking out and really happy that Dean was here. His favorite person!

However, the next day, Cas’ happiness had turned upside down. Everyone was picking on him and teachers let them do it because they were being sneaky. April had taken it far, saying Cas was a weirdo for staying with people that are not his family and that he deserved everyone picking on him.

Once again, unable to bear the hurtful words, Cas ran away, finding himself in the sandbox. However, he was quickly surrounded by tall kids, all looking down at him.

They quickly started kicking the sand next to him, intimidating him. Scaring him. He was berated for monopolizing Dean;s time.

"You're a burden," Lydia sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. "You don't belong here."

Dean felt his jaw clench, but he couldn’t move. The words came too fast. Rachel piped up, her tone just as cruel, "Dean’s losing his edge because of you."

"Yeah," Gordon added, a sick smile on his face as he took a step closer to Cas. "Dean’s too busy babysitting you to have any real friends. No one likes you, especially Dean."

"Hey!" Cas turned to find Dean, his saving grace once again. "What the hell is wrong with you people?"

The group that were berating Cas were now looking at Dean in surprise.

"You're not my friends," Dean snapped, his voice low and dangerous. "None of you are. If you were, you wouldn't be treating him like this." He glanced down at Cas, who was still standing there, frozen, his eyes downcast, his lips trembling with unshed tears.

“Come on, Dean.” One of the girls said, twirling her hair. “We are doing this for your own good!”

"If you think for one second that you’re gonna get away with this shit, you’ve got another thing coming," Dean said furiously.

He pointed at each of them. "So here’s the deal: Get lost. Now. And don’t ever come near him or me ever again. Got it?"

The girls exchanged uncomfortable glances under Dean’s glare. One dude, still trying to act tough, puffed out his chest. "Or what?" he challenged, but his voice wasn’t as steady as before.

Dean’s eyes narrowed. "Or I’ll make sure the entire school knows what kind of pathetic bullies you are. Picking on a kid half your age." He took a menacing step closer. "You’re not friends to me, and you’re sure as hell have no rights over my personal life. So get the hell out of here before I make you."

The group hesitated, but slowly, one by one, they began to back off, retreating down the street. Dean’s chest heaved as he didn’t take his eyes off of them until they were gone.

He then turned to Cas, who was still standing there, rooted to the spot, a faint tremble running through his body. Dean’s closed the distance in a few long strides, reaching out to gently grab Cas by the shoulders.

"Hey, you alright?" Dean’s voice softened.

Cas looked up at him, wanting to reply but he was hurting. Before he knew it, Cas was pulled into a tight hug. Cas stiffened, feeling guilty after hearing what his classmates at just dumped on him - guilty he was once again hugging Dean and taking his time.

But the warmth, comfort, safety made Cas relax into the embrace. He buried his face  into Dean’s shoulder as he finally let himself cry.

Dean squeezed him tighter before pulled back, keeping his hands on Cas’s shoulders. "Come on. Let’s get you home."

And without another word, Dean lifted Cas into his arms, carrying him the rest of the way home. And all this time, Cas felt very safe. Lucky to have Dean on his side. Even with all these issues - issues no other 8 year old would be going through - Cas was able to be strong because he had Dean on his side. His favorite person.

-x-

Cas had just woken up, his angel plushie still clutched tightly in his arms, when he shuffled into the living room—and froze. The room was filled with decorations and soft lights, balloons bobbing gently, and every face turned toward him was smiling like he was the reason they were there. Like he mattered.

Dean was the first to move, shouting, “Surprise!” with that big, goofy grin of his. Before Cas could even react, he was swept into a sea of hugs and laughter and warmth. It felt like stepping into sunlight after spending too long in the cold. He didn’t know what to do—he just held his plushie close and tried not to cry. Not sad tears. The happy kind.

They told him it was all for him. Dean said so himself. Bobby had chuckled and said he’d been through a lot. Maybe he had... but no one had noticed it before. Not like this. Not like they did now.

Dean made him a burger—Dean’s special burger. It was messy and perfect, and when Cas said “thank you,” everyone had laughed—not because it was funny, but because it meant something. Like his words mattered.

The day was full of games and laughter. Pamela taught him card tricks, and when Cas kept winning, everyone teased her for ruining his “innocence.” He hadn’t cheated—he was just smart. Dean called him trouble, but the way he smiled made Cas feel like maybe being trouble wasn’t so bad.

Later, he built a rubber band car with Sam. It zoomed straight into Dean’s forehead by accident. Cas had apologized, but deep down, he was a little proud. Dean had laughed, so it must have been okay.

Then came the wood carving. Bobby handed him the tools and guided him gently, trusting him with something sharp and serious. Cas carved slowly, carefully. The result was a small wooden sign with shaky letters that read: “Family doesn’t end in blood.” He’d heard Dean say it once, and it stuck. It felt true. It was true.

Everyone said it was good. Dean’s eyes looked shinier than usual, but he didn’t cry. He just looked at Cas like he was proud. Not just for the carving, but for him. Really him.

But when the house grew quiet again, and the warmth of the day began to fade, Cas found himself watching Jo curled up at Ellen’s side, and Ash asleep with his head in her lap. Ellen ran her fingers through his hair with a tenderness that made something in Cas’ chest ache.

He loved Dean. He really did. Dean was his favorite person in the whole world. Dean made him feel safe. Seen. Like he belonged. Sometimes, when Dean looked at him, Cas felt like maybe this was it—maybe he could stay here forever and not need anything else.

But.

He missed his mom.

Even if she didn’t look at him the way Dean did. Even if she didn’t stay. Even if she never tucked him in or kissed his forehead or brushed his hair out of his eyes. She was his mom.

And it hurt. It hurt in a way he didn’t have words for. Like a missing piece that no one else could fill.

So he cried. Quietly. Into his pillow. He didn’t want to wake anyone. Didn’t want Dean to see.

Maybe... one day, his mom would come back. And maybe then, she’d look at him the way Dean did.

Maybe.

-x-

And she was back.

The day had been fun—bright and loud and full of cake and hugs. It was Dean’s birthday, and everyone was smiling. Cas had given him the wooden Impala he’d carved, and Dean smiled like it was the best thing he’d ever received. That made Cas feel warm inside, like he'd done something right.

But then the doorbell rang.

And suddenly, she was there. His mom.

Naomi stood in the doorway like she had every right to be there, like no time had passed. Cas froze. He didn’t know what to feel—his heart jumped and sank at the same time. It was like someone had shaken up all his thoughts and dropped them all over the floor.

She didn’t even look at him. Not really. She just talked to the grown-ups. Talked about “taking him back” like he was some bag she left behind. Cas heard the words, but they didn’t feel real. They felt cold. And even though part of him wanted to run to her—to finally have a mom again—another part wanted to hide behind Dean and never come out.

He looked around the room. Everyone was staring. Some angry. Some confused. Some just... sad. Cas didn’t know what to say. What could he say? Naomi was his mom. That was supposed to mean something.

But why didn’t it feel the way it should?

Dean took him aside, gave him space. Asked him what he wanted. That mattered. It really mattered.

“If the world were just, Ellen and Bobby would be my parents,” he’d said. And he meant it. He meant it so much that it hurt to breathe.

But Naomi was his mom.

So he left.

And as he stood by the door, his suitcase in one hand, his angel plushie in the other, he looked at the people who had made him feel like he belonged. Like he was safe. Like he mattered.

And he wondered if he was making a mistake.

Because he was loved here. And he wasn’t sure he’d find that again.

Not like this.

Chapter Text

The house he grew up in after Naomi took him never felt like home. Not really.

It was quiet. Too quiet—the kind that made your thoughts echo until they hurt. His stepbrothers made sure he knew he didn’t belong, like he was some awkward guest that never left. He’d get straight A’s, and they’d call him a show-off. Ask a question in that clipped, formal tone he couldn’t quite shake, and they’d roll their eyes and tell him to shut up. Even when he tried—really tried—to fit in, it never seemed to be enough.

Gabe was the only one who didn’t treat him like he was broken.

Cas used to wonder why Gabe stayed his friend, why he stood up for him even when it got him in trouble too. Maybe it was pity. Maybe it was kindness. Or maybe Gabe just saw him—like Dean once had.

So Cas buried himself in his studies. Medicine, mostly. Something about fixing things made sense. Something about helping others gave him purpose. He worked harder than anyone—not out of ambition, but because he didn’t know any other way to feel whole.

By fourteen, they were calling him a genius. A 170 IQ. By sixteen, he was starting med school. And by twenty-two, he was a resident doctor.

Then came the job offer—in a town whose name pulled something deep in his chest. He hadn’t planned to return. But before he could think logically, he followed his heart and accepted the position.

Between all that, he’d become a father.

Not biologically—but in every way that mattered. First Claire, the daughter his stepbrother Michael abandoned before she was even born. Then Jack, left behind after his other stepbrother, Lucifer, walked away from a child he never wanted. Cas had looked at those two tiny, hurting souls and thought, No one else will protect them. So he did.

Now, he stood on a familiar street, with a worn satchel slung over his shoulder and two kids in tow.

The town hadn’t changed much—same cracked sidewalks, same rusted street signs, same diner with the flickering neon “Open” sign—but Cas had. He wasn’t the boy who’d once clutched a plush angel and cried into his pillow after Naomi took him away. The boy who used to trace the wood grain of Bobby’s floors like it was a map back home.

Jack held his hand tightly, eyes wide as he looked around. Claire walked ahead, confident but cautious, a bit too grown-up for her years—like she’d already learned life didn’t wait for anyone.

Cas understood that too well.

His chest tightened as they reached the old house—the one with the porch swing, the wind chimes, and memories carved into every corner. He froze at the gate. Would they remember him? Would they even want to?

He didn’t know.

Maybe he’d been gone too long. Maybe too much had changed. He wasn’t the quiet kid with big eyes and a carved wooden Impala anymore. He was a man now. A father. And still, somewhere deep down, just a boy looking for a place to belong.

He stared through the gate, heart heavy.

This place... this had been different. This had been safe . Warm. Where Dean taught him how to build toy cars. Where Ellen gave the best hugs. Where Bobby trusted him with a carving knife and Jo braided his hair just to make him laugh. This was where he’d felt—if only for a while—like someone worth loving.

Jack tugged at his coat. “Are we here?”

Cas nodded.

Claire glanced at him. “Is this... where you were happy?”

He swallowed, the answer caught in his throat. “Yeah. It was.”

And maybe, just maybe, it still could be.

But fear crept in, loud and paralyzing. What if the gate stayed closed? What if he wasn’t remembered—or worse, forgotten?

So Cas did what fear taught him to do.

He turned away.

And didn’t open the gate to find out.

-x-

It surprised Cas that he hadn’t run into anyone from his past yet—but then again, his routine was limited: hospital, home, and the corner café. Life left little room for detours.

Until the Continental broke down.

He hadn’t expected much from the mechanic shop—just a quote, maybe a ride share. What he got was Dean Winchester.

Older. Broader. Oil-streaked and sharp around the edges—but unmistakably Dean.

Cas’s heart stuttered.

Dean didn’t recognize him.

Cas smiled anyway, hoping. Waiting.

But Dean just stumbled through customer service lines, awkward and polite, like Cas was a stranger. It hurt more than he’d thought it would.

He left with the quote and a quiet ache.

Days later, in the toy store with Claire and Jack, a little boy struck up a conversation about dinosaurs. Cas listened, charmed—until he felt a presence behind him.

Dean.

Still not recognizing him.

Cas tried, gently: “Do you remember me?”

Dean looked confused, mentioned the garage.

“That’s not what I meant,” Cas said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Then—breadcrumbs:
“We walked to school together.”
“I’ve ridden in your Impala.”

And then, softly:
“I am Cas. Castiel Shurley.”

Recognition hit Dean like a freight train.

Holy shit , he breathed, and suddenly Cas wasn’t invisible anymore.

They talked—halting, fond. Cas clung to every word like it might disappear. Lisa joined them. Ben too. Cas watched the ease between them and felt something twist in his chest.

He introduced his kids. Lisa invited them to Ben’s party. Dean didn’t object. Cas saved his number, fingers steady, pulse not.

Before he left, he looked back.

Dean remembered him.

But had no idea he’d spent years dreaming of the boy who used to walk beside him.

-x-

Meg and Balthazar, his friends from the hospital, had dragged Cas to the Roadhouse, promising music, drinks, and maybe a little harmless mischief. When Cas confided about Dean, they decided the three of them needed to be sexy to lure Dean in. Cas was against it—Dean was with Lisa, and they had Ben.

Cas laughed genuinely when Meg spun him into a twirl, bumping into Balthazar who grinned and rolled with it.

They were ridiculous. But it felt good. Light.

Then Meg leaned in, voice barely audible over the music:

“He’s looking.”

She tilted her chin—subtle, but not subtle enough.

Dean.

Cas’s eyes snapped to him, beer in hand, pressed against the wall like he wanted to disappear. Watching them. Watching him.

Cas’s breath hitched.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Cas murmured, regret already settling in.

“You wanted to know if he cared,” Balthazar said, pressing a hand to Cas’s back. “Now you’ll find out.”

Dean’s jaw was tight, eyes unreadable. Cas didn’t know if he wanted Dean to look away or keep staring.

Then Dean downed his beer and locked eyes with a stranger at the bar.

Cas didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Because Dean was still watching—jaw tense, eyes unreadable—and Cas didn’t know if he wanted him to look away or keep staring.

But when Dean suddenly turned, downed the rest of his beer, and locked eyes with some stranger at the bar, Cas felt something cold and sharp settle in his chest.

Dean started walking toward the guy.

Cas didn’t think. He moved.

His hand closed around Dean’s wrist before he could stop himself.

Dean turned—caught off guard, then annoyed.

Cas barely registered the crowd around them, the way the music faded beneath the pulse in his ears.

“What the hell are you doing?” Cas asked, voice clipped, too loud.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Uh… getting a drink?”

Cas frowned. “That’s not what it looked like.”

Dean’s gaze hardened. “Oh yeah? And what did it look like?”

Cas hesitated. “Like you were going to sleep with that… man.”

Dean stared. Then gave a cold laugh. “Wow. Didn’t peg you for a homophobe, Cas.”

“What?” Cas blinked, stunned. “No—I’m not—I would be a hypocrite if I had a problem with that.”

“Then what’s your deal?” Dean challenged.

Cas sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Dean, I’m upset because you’re cheating on Lisa.”

Dean blinked. “I’m—what?”

Cas gestured toward the bar. “I thought you and Lisa were happy. You guys have Ben! I thought—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “I just—I didn’t think you were the type of person who would do that.”

A beat of silence before Den started laughing.

Cas scowled. “What’s so funny?”

Dean shook his head, chuckling. “Dude, Lisa and I are not a thing.”

Cas blinked. “You—what?”

Dean smirked, still amused despite everything. “Yeah, man. The whole gang co-parents Ben, but we’re not together.”

Cas stared at him, something flickering behind his eyes. “…Oh.”

And just like that, the tension shifted.

Suddenly, nothing made sense. Or maybe everything did.

Cas opened his mouth, some stupid hopeful apology half-formed on his tongue—

When Balthazar appeared, annoyingly well-timed, slipping an arm over his shoulders like it belonged there.

“There you are,” he purred. “We were starting to think you’d run off on us.”

Then he pressed a kiss to Cas’s cheek.

A casual thing.

But when Cas looked back—Dean was already gone.

Cas stood there, frozen in place, Balthazar’s arm heavy across his shoulders.

He wasn't sure what had happened. But the air was cold.

-x-

Gabe was his go-to whenever he needed an ear to whine to. When Dean had been weird during the car pickup, but then turned a 180 by inviting Cas to dinner. Oh, and that dinner—emotional, grounding, like the two of them were being pulled into something they couldn’t name. Then came the impromptu family night when Gabe flaked on picking up Claire and Jack. Dean had made the burgers exactly the way Cas liked them. Cas had kissed him on the cheek without thinking.

Gabe—and the kids—had teased him mercilessly. Said they’d never seen him so out of control. Cas had taken it in stride.

Then came the day Gabe threw him under the bus.

Cas had been at the Roadhouse, sipping his drink, trying to mind his own business, when Dean slid into the seat next to him and said, “So, uh. Gabe said you’ve been whining about me.”

Then Dean’s expression shifted, more serious.

“There’s something I need to say,” he said, voice low. “And I need you to really hear me, alright?”

Cas nodded, setting his drink down. “I’m listening.” He was ready for the rejection. Ugh, why couldn't Gabe just let him yearn and pine from the distance?

But then Dean had confessed. “So what I’m saying is... I want this. You. The kids. All of it.”

Cas set his beer down. Turned toward him. And then—without a word—grabbed Dean by the front of his shirt and kissed him.

It was grounding and electrifying all at once. Dean melted into it, hands gripping his waist like he was afraid Cas might vanish.

Cas had worked quick - they had made it to Dean's and were in bed together ASAP.

And the look in those green eyes?

Cas knew one thing for sure.

Dean Winchester was his. Finally.

And tonight, Cas was going to show him just how much that meant.

-x-

Sunday mornings had a rhythm now.

Dean was at the stove in pajama pants and a faded Zepp tee, flipping pancakes with one hand and holding a mug of coffee in the other. Cas was at the kitchen table, hair mussed, glasses slipping down his nose, surrounded by a fortress of coloring books and sticker sheets courtesy of Claire and Jack. Jack was humming to himself while carefully applying dinosaur stickers to Cas’s arm. Claire was arguing with Dean about how pancakes weren’t supposed to have banana in them—“That’s a crime, old man.”

Dean flipped a pancake dramatically. “Banana makes them healthy.”

“They taste like betrayal.”

Cas stifled a laugh behind his mug. He didn’t say anything—just watched them, his family, in the soft gold light of morning.

There were photos taped to the fridge now. The four of them at the park. Claire holding Jack upside down by the ankles. Dean kissing Cas’s cheek while Cas looked bewildered by it, mid-coffee sip. There was a crayon drawing labeled “Our House” in Jack’s loopy handwriting - stick-figure versions of all of them, smiling under a lopsided sun.

Cas reached across the table, pulled one of Dean’s empty mugs close, and began helping Jack fill it with stickers. Jack grinned up at him, sticky-fingered and proud.

“Are we putting these on Dean's car?” he asked.

Cas smiled. “Not unless you want to be grounded for a week.”

Dean turned from the stove. “Two weeks.”

Claire jumped in for fun. “Three.”

Cas reached for Dean as he passed, tugged him down by the shirt for a kiss. Quick. Familiar. Just enough.

Dean kissed him back, soft and warm. “You look good like this,” he murmured. “Glasses. Stickers.”

Cas leaned in. “You too. Betraying the children with banana pancakes.”

Dean laughed, set the pancake plate on the table. “You love me anyway.”

“I do,” Cas said. Easily. Honestly. “So much.”

Dean’s hand found his under the table.

Claire groaned. “Gross. Can you guys not make heart eyes while I’m eating?”

Jack giggled. “I think it’s cute.”

Cas and Dean just smiled at each other, hands still joined beneath the table.

And in that moment, they both knew.

They were home.