Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Dean woke up slowly, first noticing the pain in his arm. It had been several months since Alistair had practically shredded it with his claws, as if that was going to convince Dean to return to his abusive ex-mate.  It was mostly healed, but Dean was starting to think it was going to be one of those things that just never stopped hurting. He’d have to ask one of the neuros at work about it.

His ears informed him that, if it was going to be one of those long-term pain injuries, it was clearly planning to be the kind that acted up when the weather changed. Rain pelted the windows in uneven patterns that suggested gusty winds to go along with it.

Awesome.

He snuggled closer to Cas and took a deep breath of his rich, leathery scent. Then a noise across the room had him bolting upright. There was Claire, sitting up in her crib. Seeing that Dean was looking at her, she released one of the wooden bars and pinched her fingers together before tapping them at her mouth.

Breakfast. Right.

Cas was still sound asleep, but there was probably a bottle or two of his milk in the fridge. And a bit of applesauce would round out her breakfast nicely. Dean carefully climbed out of bed and scooped Claire up from her crib. She might be hungry, but she was also wet, so he changed her diaper and then brought her to the kitchen.

Once she was in her high chair, she insistently tapped at her mouth again.

“Your Auntie Eileen is going to be very proud of you,” he said quietly as he buckled her into the chair.

Sure enough, there were a couple of bottles on the top shelf of the fridge. Fortunately, Claire wasn’t fussy about the temperature, so he just set up one of the bottles and handed it right to her. She gave the bottle one of her looks, presumably for not being Cas, and then started to drink.

“Gotta agree with you there, kiddo. Nothing can stand in for your Papa.” Dean rummaged through the cabinet. They’d bought a few new foods to introduce her to, but he didn’t feel like this weekend was the time to do it. Not that there was ever a good time to suddenly have a reaction to a new food, but in the middle of other disruptions was definitely worse. Applesauce it’d be then, with some Cheerios she could crunch on.

The applesauce was about half-gone and only about a quarter of the Cheerios had hit the floor when first Ben and then Cas wandered bleary-eyed into the kitchen.

“You should’ve woken me,” Cas said, leaning in to kiss each of them on the forehead.

“Nah, you were sleeping too peacefully.”

“She’s messy,” Ben observed.

“Kiddo, your mom and I could show you some much more impressive messes you created when you were this size.  That’s just how it goes.”

“Nobody’s good at anything when they’re first learning it,” Cas said. “We all make messes while we learn how to do things.”

“How’d you get so smart?” Dean asked with a little smile.

“Missouri,” Cas replied with a shrug.

Dean nodded to himself. That did sound like something she’d say. Probably had said during one of their group meetings at some point. It just hadn’t stuck with Dean the way it clearly had with Cas.

That was fair enough. Cas was still doing a lot of brand new learning. Learning to be a parent, which he rocked at. Learning to be a working parent, something that he’d never even considered for his life. Learning to manage money, pay bills, use a computer, sign. Yeah. That is something that he’d hold onto.

“Trade places?” Cas asked. “I know you’ve got a breakfast tradition to uphold.”

“And so I do!” Dean set down the baby food jar and spoon and stood up, stretching as he did. He really was getting stiff with the weather these days.

“Waffles!” Ben cried.

Claire looked over at him, curious. Then turned her attention back to her breakfast.

“You betcha.” Dean started pulling out ingredients and setting up the waffle iron. It might be rainy and miserable out, but they were going to make this work.

Castiel appreciated that Ben was giving him a preview of what Claire might be like in a few years. He also appreciated that whenever he seemed bothered by Claire doing something baby-ish, Dean explained that Ben had done similar things at that age. The boy seemed to get it.

Mostly.

Ben had tried to feed her some of his bacon, which was a bit richer than anything she’d had yet. Yes, many one-year-olds might be up to cured meats, but she wasn’t. Fortunately, she just made a face and spat it out. Castiel wasn’t sure she’d have even been able to chew it properly. But just as Claire was only one, Ben was only four, and he did seem to be trying to make friends.

Once they’d cleaned up after breakfast, and everyone had gotten showered or bathed and dressed accordingly, they were all at a bit of a loss what to do. Castiel had been hoping they could take a walk down to the park. Claire always enjoyed walks, and Ben would be able to run around and burn off some energy. Unfortunately, it was raining, which put an end to that idea.

“Can we go to the mall, Dad? Please?” Ben asked.

“Why would we go to the mall?” Dean asked, clearly confused.

“They have, like, rides and toys and stuff.”

Castiel was sure they did. He was also pretty sure they’d want a fair bit of money for them. Dean earned a decent living as a nurse, but with child support for two kids, it went quickly.

“What, like McDonalds does?” Dean asked.

“Yes! Please, Dad?”

“I guess we can give it a try. Let me text your mother and find out which one has this stuff.”

Castiel wasn’t quite sure what that meant for him and Claire. While he wanted to spend time with Ben and get to know him, he deserved time alone with his father as well. Besides, the mall might have “rides and toys and stuff” but he was fairly certain none of it would be safe for a six-month-old.

Dean looked up from his phone. “Huh, guess it’s not far from your gallery, Cas.”

“You have a gall’ry?” Ben asked.

“Not exactly,” Castiel replied with a smile. “I work there. Do you know what a gallery is?”

“It’s where pirates eat!”

Castiel bit his lip. He could see that Dean was also choking back laughter.

“That’s … that’s a galley,” Dean finally said. “Sounds close. But a gallery is a place where you go to see art and maybe buy it.”

“Oh.” Ben slumped a bit, then straightened and said, “But we’re going to the mall?”

“Guess so, kiddo,” Dean said. He grabbed his jacket and tossed a smaller version of it to Ben. “Gotta try to stay dry on the way, though. Coming, Cas?”

“Will there be anything for Claire to do there?” he asked, shifting her from one hip to the other.

“I think maybe there’s baby rides,” Ben said.

“I have no idea,” Dean replied. “Might at least be a space she could run around a little.”

That was true, even if Castiel would probably be chasing her every step. Did malls really have places for little ones to shift and run around? What Ben had described sounded like it was more generally human-centric. Castiel would be content enough to stay home, where he knew exactly how safe she was in each room. But Dean looked so hopeful, Castiel found himself nodding and heading into the kids’ room, which still held most of her clothes, to get a hooded sweatshirt for her. Perhaps he should look to see if they had rain jackets for little ones. She’d outgrow it so quickly though, and he’d gotten her to and from the car in the rain before without getting too wet.

For now, he satisfied himself with the hooded sweatshirt and carried her on his hip while holding their umbrella in his other hand. Both Dean and Ben pulled their jackets up over their heads and made a run for the Impala. They were just so alike. Castiel couldn’t get over it.

When they found the mall, it looked like everybody else had the same idea. Apparently the mall was the place to be when it rained. Who knew?

Dean dropped Cas, Claire, and Ben off at the door with what looked like the best overhang for them to get under quickly. They dashed inside, hopefully not getting too wet, and Dean went off to find somewhere to park. Granted, he did usually park toward the edge of any parking lot, to avoid anybody dinging his Baby, but this lot was huge and the rain really was pouring down. He found a compromise spot, with several empty spaces between Baby and the next car, but not all the way to the end of the row. He pocketed his keys, running a thumb over the leather fob Cas had made for him, tooled with symbols meant to protect him, then he hitched his jacket up over his head and made a run for it.

When he got inside, he saw that Ben had Cas’ free hand and was trying to lead him somewhere.

“We need to wait for your father,” Cas said. “You need to show both of us where this is.”

“Cas is right, kiddo,” Dean said as he drew closer. “I mean, I’d find you eventually, but I’d be really worried if I came inside and you weren’t here.”

“I’m here,” Ben said. “You’re here. Let’s go!”

Ben grabbed hold of one of Dean’s hands, not letting go of Cas’, and he pulled at them both.

“Okay, enough with the pulling,” Dean said. “Do you want to make Cas and Claire fall?”

Obviously, Cas was not about to be pulled over by a four year-old, but just grabbing people to drag them places wasn’t really a habit Dean wanted Ben to have.

“Sorry, Mr. Cas,” Ben said, letting go of Cas’ hand like it had burned him.  He let go of Dean’s hand too. “But let’s go, Dad!”

“Show the way, kiddo!” Dean said. “Just stay where I can see you.”

He’d actually have preferred if Ben had kept holding <i> his </i> hand, just without the pulling, but a little independence was probably a good thing. And as crowded as the parking lot had been, the mall itself didn’t seem to be too crowded.

“Have you been here before?” Cas asked as they followed their little leader.

“Not really,” Dean said. “Not recently, anyway. Mostly, I hit up WalMart for stuff. One-stop shopping, you know?”

Cas nodded. That was where they’d gone to get Claire’s crib and bureau, after all, so no wonder he wasn’t surprised by that.

Soon enough, Ben led them to an area with a wall that came up to Dean’s waist surrounding a little play area with some playground-style bouncy horses, a small slide, and what looked like a giant three-dimensional puzzle. Ben loved slides, though Dean had a feeling he’d get bored of this little one pretty quickly. Nothing looked particularly Claire-safe though, other than maybe that puzzle.

Sure enough, that was what Cas made a beeline for with her while Ben ran for the slide. He saw Cas point at one of the pieces that was as large as Claire’s hand, sign “put,” and then point to the board that had various spaces for the pieces.

“Daddy, look at me, look at me!”

Dean whipped his head around. This was Ben’s one weekend a month with him. Dean didn’t want to miss a second of it. Sure enough, Ben was at the top of the little slide and, as soon as Dean’s eyes were on him, he pushed off and slid to the ground, laughing.  

“Great job, kiddo!” Dean said.

Ben ran around the slide to do it again. There were some twirly things on the landing at the top, probably to keep the kids busy while waiting their turn if there were a lot. Ben spun one as he went by, barely looking at it, then slid down again.

This went on for a few minutes, until Ben became as bored as Dean had predicted. The slide at the park was at least twice as tall as this one. What surprised him, though, was that, rather than running over to ride one of the horsies, Ben ran right to Claire, who was currently trying to fit a star-shaped piece into a half-circle shaped hole.

“That doesn’t go there,” Ben said.  “Look, here!”

A wail split the air as Ben took the piece from Claire and placed it in the star-shaped spot.

“Ben,” Dean said, internally counting to ten, “how would you feel if Claire took away your LeapFrog while you were trying to figure something out?”

Cas, already kneeling down next to his pup, made soothing noises at her and tried to cuddle her. She pushed away and pointed at Ben, flinging her fingers out in what Dean realized was her version of “put.”

“But I was just showing her where it goes,” Ben said, his lip starting to wobble.  He grabbed the star back, though, and handed it to the toddler. “I’m sorry. Here. You try it.”

Claire sniffled and hugged the star close, as if she was afraid to let it out of her clutches now.  Keeping a wary eye on Ben, she attempted to place the star-shaped piece in a square space, then put it back in the star-shaped space Ben had used.

Ben clapped and laughed.

“Ben, how about you ride one of the horsies for a bit,” Dean suggested. “Show Claire how that works, so she’ll know when she’s big enough.”

“Okay.” Ben ran over to one of the horses, a dappled roan with a large spring connecting it to the floor. It jiggled around and creaked a little as Ben climbed onto it, but he quickly scrambled into the saddle and grabbed the handles on either side of its head.

Apparently, the spring on this one was even tighter than the ones at the park, which tended to move a bit more, even if they were still safe enough for climbing onto. Dean supposed that between being indoors and probably being newer, that made sense.

“Cware, look!” Ben yelled. “This is how you ride the horsies when you’re bigger!”

Dean’s heart swelled. Ben seemed to be falling right into the role of big brother.

“You handle them beautifully,” a blonde woman said from the bench next to Cas’s where she was watching her daughter, who was taking her turn at the slide. “It’s wonderful that your Alpha is so involved, too.”

Dean thought about correcting her. He really did. But it was none of her damn business, and she was trying to be nice, so he just smiled and gave her a little nod.

“Thanks. Looks like you’re doing fine by your pup too.”

She smiled a little stiffly. Her scent was vaguely sweet, like some sort of dessert, marking her as an Omega like him. There was no Alpha around, though, and it looked like she wasn’t happy about that.

No matter. Dean turned his attention back to Ben.

“Ride ‘em, cowboy!”

Ben meant well, that was obvious enough. This play area was definitely meant for older pups, though Claire had taken to the shape puzzle.  She wasn’t very good at it, of course, and there was the mini-tantrum when Ben tried to “help” her, but once he was off playing with the other equipment, she very happily picked up piece after piece and attempted to shove them into spots that were, for the most part, completely different shapes.

Well, and then she kept trying to put them in her mouth.

He shouldn’t be so uptight. She probably did the same sort of thing at her daycare, too, but there were only a few children in the toddler room. Who knew how many kids played in this mall area? Or what germs they might have left on things, especially if they were pups who liked to put things in their mouths too?

“Don’t eat the toys, Claire,” he said for the eight hundred millionth time.

“Eat,” she said and signed. Her eyes lit up as if this was a new concept that had just occurred to her. “Eat, Daddy!”

She dropped the flower-shaped piece of plastic on the floor and clambered into his lap. Castiel brought her over to one of the benches, fished a bottle out of her bag, and handed it to her.

“No! Papa milk!”

Castiel groaned internally as he gently pulled her hands away from his shirt. Other than when he brought her to and from the daycare, Castiel didn’t really bring Claire out in public that often. Sure, there was grocery shopping, but he made sure she was well-fed before they left. She was fine about taking bottles from other people, but apparently if Papa was right here, then fresh from the source was all that would do.

“We’re not at home, Claire-bear,” he said. “This is Papa’s milk in the bottle. You know that, right?”

He wondered how different it seemed to her, other than the container and maybe the temperature.

“Papa milk!” she insisted, grabbing for his shirt again.

“Wait a minute,” he said. He looked around for any sorts of signs to indicate where he could bring her. Did they provide spaces for Omegas to nurse their pups? Clearly not every Omega stayed in the home. Far more than he had ever realized were out and about with their pups all the time.

The blonde woman next to Dean looked at him sharply, then over to Dean, and back again, a look of confusion on her face.

“There’s a lactation room right over there.” She pointed at a little hallway off to the side.

“Dean,” he called out.

Dean looked over.

“We’ll be back in a minute,” he said, tilting his head in the direction of the hallway the woman had pointed at. He didn’t dare let go of Claire’s hands or she’d be pulling open his shirt.  She was already whining a bit, and would cry any minute now.  He really should talk to her doctor about whether it was time to wean her.

“Okay, babe,” Dean replied, giving him a thumbs up before turning back to Ben.

The blonde woman pressed her lips tightly together. She got up, called her daughter to her, and left the play area just as Castiel was managing to shoulder Claire’s baby bag and shift her onto his hip. He shuddered. She reminded him of his mother somehow.

Once he and Claire were situated in the lactation room, which was surprisingly comfortable, he finally put her to breast and let her eat.  She settled in quickly, and that gave his mind time to wander.

Nobody in their immediate circle had any issue with Dean and him both being Omegas and being together. Of course, they were all Dean’s circle, who weren’t anything at all like the family Castiel came from. It hadn’t occurred to him that another Omega who was out and about with their pup might take offense at their relationship.  It should have. Life wasn’t as simple as either Dean’s family or his made it seem sometimes. Dean’s family, minus his father who was currently in prison for helping Dean’s ex-mate assault him, put less weight on designation than on who a person was. Castiel’s family was extremely traditional and would never have tolerated an Omega being outside the home at all. Life was more nuanced than those extremes, though. He heard enough at their weekly therapy group for traumatized Omegas to know better than that.  It was no surprise that nobody there seemed bothered either, though.This was the first time Castiel had really run into this sort of attitude since Bartholomew had abandoned them at the hospital, and it was coming from a fellow Omega who was out in public. That made his brain hurt a little.

It was probably for the best that he’d been largely sheltered in a bubble formed by Dean’s family and friends, as well as their mutual friends from Missouri’s group. Castiel had largely abandoned the spiral of worries he’d had early on that their relationship might actually be wrong, actually be a sin. Obviously. He and Claire wouldn’t have moved in with Dean if he’d still seriously considered that a possibility. Somehow, he’d never really thought about what anyone outside their bubble, other than his family, might think.

For the most part, it seemed he passed as a Beta. When he’d been given an emergency hysterectomy to remove his uterus after Claire’s birth, the change in his hormones had been dramatic, and his scent had mostly disappeared along with his ability to scent others.  No one seemed to read him as an Omega. What was left of his scent had also changed, if Bartholomew was to be believed. He had made a comment when they’d had to sign their divorce papers that Castiel smelled like something dead now. Perhaps that had just been his way of saying Castiel was now dead to him, though he wasn’t usually one for metaphor.

Having a pup demanding to nurse, of course, would make his designation abundantly clear. And that woman probably had gotten a fair whiff of Dean’s scent, which was muted because he’d had his mating gland removed, but was still distinctly Omega-sweet.  Perhaps he hadn’t thought all this through well enough.  What would this mean for Claire, growing up?  Would she be bullied at school?

She fussed a bit, and he switched her over to his other breast.

And then there was the fact she was still nursing.  That he was very clear on being controversial.  The books said everything from “stop at six months” to “the child will stop when they’re ready.”  Frankly, that seemed more natural to him, though he had seen on some of the Animal Planet shows that some lactating animals would start to nip or swat at their young when they’d decided they were old enough to stop.  Dean was both extremely supportive and no help at all.

Everybody does it different, Cas.  You can talk to a lactation consultant if you want, and they’ll either help you wean her or give you information on child-led weaning.

Dean was comfortable living in these sort of ambiguous areas, it seemed.  While from what he could tell, he and Sam had been brought up by a very strict, if clearly very troubled father, neither of them seemed to cling to the idea that there was only one answer to everything.  Even Sam, the lawyer, could talk for hours about how the same law could apply in different ways depending on what seemed to be the tiniest of details.

Castiel, on the other hand, was still struggling with the idea that the world wasn’t as clear-cut as his parents, particularly his mother, had made it out to be. It was certainly a more interesting place for all of that, but there were definitely times he wished for the comfortable certainty of knowing there was just one right answer.

Once Claire had finished eating, he checked her diaper and changed her. The changing table was in a separate little area of the lactation suite, which he appreciated. By the time they got back to the play area, it seemed that Ben had played with all of the things they had, and was now bored.

“I was thinking we could get some ice cream,” Dean said.

Castiel thought he could have guessed that from the fact Ben was softly chanting, “I scream. You scream. We all scream for ice cream.”

“That sounds lovely,” he said. “Do we know where they have it here?”

As it turned out, there was a large board with a listing of all the stores in this mall, color coded to go with a map of each level. The green section on the second floor apparently housed all of the restaurants, including at least one that looked like they served ice cream, if the name “Frosty Freeze” was anything to go by.

Sure enough, they had ice cream. It was a bit softer than Castiel was used to, and Ben seemed to end up wearing more of it than he ate, since he got his in a little cone. Castiel was glad he’d stuck with a cup, the better to share the occasional spoonful with Claire, who wasn’t particularly hungry but did love her vanilla ice cream.

Dean, on the other hand, who had gotten a half-vanilla, half-chocolate cone, was doing an impressive job of devouring it without wearing it. He was also playing havoc on Castiel’s composure.  He really, really didn’t need to be thinking about just how agile Dean’s tongue was or the things he could do with it. It was a good thing they were seated at a picnic-style table, from which Castiel would not be getting up any time soon. From the wicked glint in Dean’s eye, he knew exactly what he was doing, which only made Castiel’s face flame even hotter.

Eventually, it was time to go home. Dean went and got the Impala, driving it up to the same door they’d come in, so that the pups wouldn’t have to walk in the rain.  It might have actually done Ben a bit of good, Castiel though.  He was going to need a bath when they got back.  Dean had wiped him down a bit, and had given the boy stern instructions about not getting anything on “Baby’s” leather seats.  Ben was obviously used to this, as he nodded solemnly and proceeded to keep his hands on the armrests of his booster seat the whole ride home.

The boy also kept up a stream of conversation with Claire, who was obliviously drifting off to sleep.  Ben had apparently decided it would be his job to teach her how to be a big kid, and this was clearly a job he took very seriously. The fact that Claire was dozing off - and would understand less than half of what he was saying even if she were awake - was apparently no deterrent.

“I’m glad they seem to be getting along,” Castiel said.

“Me too.” Dean glanced into the rearview mirror at them. “Ben absolutely adores her.  I’m not entirely sure what she makes of him, but at least there’s only been one … whatever you’d call that.”

“True,” Castiel agreed. “It wasn’t quite a fight. Wasn’t quite a tantrum, though it was going to be. But once he gave the piece back to her, she calmed down.”

“I noticed she didn’t take long to put it back in the spot he’d picked, either,” Dean said. “I don’t know if that really means anything, but if Ben noticed, I’m sure that’ll just fire him up to teach her more ‘big kid stuff.’”

Ben was still prattling on at Claire, who was now definitely asleep.

They’d only see each other one weekend per month. Dean worked every other weekend, like most nurses, and since he had two pups with different Beta mothers, that meant Ben got one weekend, and Emma got the other.  Castiel wondered how well Ben’s enthusiasm would hold up over time.  He also wondered if things would go anywhere near as smoothly with Emma.

Chapter Text

Even when Claire didn’t go to Sam and Eileen’s for the night, Dean considered Friday night date night.  He was grateful that, barring the occasional call-out, he had Friday night as a regular night off. Most nurses worked the Friday of their off-weekend and had it off for their on-weekend. Because of his kids’ visits on his off-weekends, though, and working three twelve-hour shifts in a row was frowned upon, he’d managed to get Fridays off overall. So even though he had to share every other date night with one of his kids, they did always have at least one guaranteed night to spend together.

Tonight, Dean decided cheeseburgers on pretzel buns were the way to go. Cas loved them, they were quick to make, and the cleanup wasn’t too bad.  There’d been some pre-cut butternut squash at the grocery store, which would do nicely for a vegetable. Once he’d gotten it all steamed up, he could puree some of it for Claire before seasoning the rest for Cas and him. Fries, well, they were fries, and they were toasting up in the oven as he finished working the onions and peppers into the ground beef.

This was why he didn’t like the idea of having a meal schedule. What if they’d thought last week that tonight should be a lasagna night and now it felt like a burger night? Granted, the lasagna noodles would keep just fine if they hadn’t been cooked up yet, but the ricotta didn’t have an infinite shelf life. Of course, they could always make it a different night. He wasn’t sure why he was so resistant to the idea of planning out their meals in advance. He supposed it was something he sort of did in his head when he went grocery shopping.

It had been nice shopping together last week, but Claire had gotten pretty bored with it after awhile. So, rather than flexing his hours earlier, as he’d done last week, Cas had worked his regular shift and was walking home with Claire. That was going to have to change soon, though. It was starting to get darker earlier, and the evenings were getting chilly.

There was something very nice about coming home to smell dinner cooking, Castiel thought as he unbuckled Claire in her stroller. Clearly, she could smell it too, as she pinched her fingers together and tapped her mouth.

“Yes, Claire-bear, we’re going in for dinner,” he said as he picked her up.

With his free hand and a foot, he collapsed the stroller and set it aside. He entered the kitchen and went directly to Dean at the stove, who had already turned his head for a kiss. Claire patted Dean’s face, clearly wanting to participate in her own baby way. Both men chuckled.  Castiel took in a good lungful of Dean’s scent, hard to pick up over the also-delicious smells of dinner when he wasn’t right up close.

“Dinner’s almost ready, babe,” Dean said. “Get yourselves settled while I get it served up.”

Castiel fastened Claire into her high chair and went back downstairs after the stroller. Once he’d tucked that away in her room, he washed his hands and grabbed a cloth to wash hers as well. By the time he was done, Dean had plated up burgers for the both of them with oven-baked fries and cubes of squash dusted with cinnamon and nutmeg. A small dish of pureed squash without the seasonings sat just out of Claire’s reach.

Once Dean sat down, Castiel took his hand and Claire’s and bowed his head. He wasn’t sure what he believed anymore, not really. But he still liked to take these moments to just be thankful for having Claire in his life, for having Dean in his life, and for the meal they were about to share. Whether those thanks were directed to any particular being was, for the moment, irrelevant.

When he raised his head again, Dean was smiling at him.

“What?” Castiel asked.

“I just love that you get us to all hold hands before dinner. I’m still not down for the praying part, but I like it anyway.”

Castiel filed that away for future discussion. If Dean liked this practice, would he be willing to extend it to include his children when they were here? It had felt odd skipping this step last weekend when Ben had been here. It was more like just being out to coffee at Benny’s. Not like a real family meal, at least for Castiel. For now, though, he was content to give Dean’s hand a firm squeeze before letting it go to pick up the bowl of squash, test its temperature, and give a bit to Claire.

Claire, for her part, was obviously fond of squash. She was relatively new to vegetables, but so far seemed to respond well to them. The only one she hadn’t cared for so far was broccoli, and when he’d tasted it, Castiel had to agree that broccoli just was not meant to be pureed and eaten cold or even after being microwaved. Perhaps he should try it again sometime, homemade and freshly warm.

That thought prompted a bit of worry. Dean was very possessive of his kitchen, for all that he told Castiel to use it as his own. Very rarely did Castiel have the opportunity to prepare anything other than a quick sandwich. Dean even packed Castiel’s lunch most days. While that was pleasant, it did leave Castiel feeling almost like a guest. If he mentioned to Dean that he wanted to try making and pureeing broccoli for Claire, Dean would just … do it. As much as he was clearly enjoying looking out for Castiel and Claire, at some point, if this kept up, he was going to get tired of hosting the two of them.

“So, did you decide which movie you want to watch tonight?” Dean asked around a mouthful of burger.

Castiel pasted a smile on his face. They could talk about the kitchen later. For now, it was date night, and he was determined to enjoy it.

Chapter Text

Dean should probably have expected that at eight, Emma was a whole other kettle of fish when it came to sharing her Dad weekend with other people.

Lydia was a lot less chill about the whole thing than Lisa had been. That was less surprising. She had insisted on meeting Cas and had spent an uncomfortable amount of time just staring at him and obviously scenting him.

“You’re no threat,” she’d finally said before turning back to Dean. “Make sure Emma’s ready to be picked up by five on Sunday.”

And that had been that.

Emma, though, was not doing a threat assessment. She just plain didn’t want to share her Dad time. Never mind that she’d just as soon play Animal Crossing the whole time. She’d gotten Dean to play, too, so that he could visit her island and she could visit his. Since Cas had never gotten into the game at all, and didn’t have his own computer to play on, she had no use for him.

She had less than no use for Claire.

Oh, she didn’t actually say anything. It was what she didn’t say, to either of them, which was much of anything at all.  Once she’d determined that Claire was too little to play video games, and Cas wasn’t going to join in either, she just tunnel-visioned into her island, mumbling about turnips.

After about an hour of that, Dean told her to go wash up for dinner while he ordered them all some pizza and set up the folding tables in the living room to eat. That was their thing: everything pizza on Friday night. He peeked in on Cas and Claire, who were in the bedroom, Cas reading one of her books to her as she followed his finger along the page. Between the way Cas was teaching her ASL and the way he was teaching her what reading even was, Dean thought she was probably going to be one smart kid.  Every kid had their thing, though. Emma did fine at school, but she was way more interested in soccer (and Animal Crossing) than reading.  Dean wasn’t sure what Ben’s thing was going to be once he hit elementary school. As far as kindergarten, though, it was definitely art.

“But she has to have the everything pizza. It’s Friday!”

“Emma, babies can’t eat all that stuff. She’d be up all night sick.”

Claire was chomping away on the crust from Castiel’s cheese pizza, which Dean supposed could have come off the everything pizza, but Cas had been been firm: the oils from the pepperoni, sausage, and bacon, not to mention the juices from the onions, peppers, and pineapples, would be in the crust, and while Claire might or might not like that, her digestive system almost certainly wouldn’t.

“Just because you’re a nurse, you think you know everything,” Emma said with a pout before taking another huge bite of her slice.

“Not everything,” Dean said, “but a lot about how babies work.”

After dinner, Emma wanted to get right back to her game.

“That’s probably enough Animal Crossing,” Dean said. Lydia had warned him that she’d been trying to push her limits of game time recently. “What if we watch a movie until it’s bedtime?”

“Can we watch Wonder Woman again?” Emma asked. “Please, Daddy?”

Figures she’d still be on that kick. At least it wasn’t Elsa anymore.

Cas stepped out to put Claire down for the night and joined them a few minutes later.

Dean scooched over on the couch to make room for him. Emma made a dissatisfied huff, but he wasn’t exactly squeezing her, so she didn’t outright complain. At first.

“What did I miss?” Cas asked.

“You haven’t seen this before?” Emma demanded. “Ugh, Da-ad, we’re going to have to start over!”

Dean hit pause. “We don’t have to start over. Cas, it’s World War I. This guy’s plane just crashed off the coast of the island of Theomyscira, home of the Amazons. No men allowed. Diana, there, just decided to rescue him and brought him into the healing pool to tend to his wounds. There. All caught up.”

Emma huffed again but held her peace. Eventually, she got drawn back into the movie and started saying some of the lines along with the characters.

Cas nestled against Dean’s side and grabbed a bit of popcorn from the bowl in Dean’s lap. Dean stretched his arm and put it around Cas’ shoulders, giving him a quick squeeze. His rich, leathery scent blended with the buttery popcorn, and it was heavenly. These moments could only be better if Ben and Claire were snuggled in with them too. Or maybe Ben would be down on the floor with Claire, showing her how to play with the trucks while Emma shushed them both so she could hear the movie. That might get a bit … cozy, but it also sounded like everything Dean wanted for his cobbled-together little family.

A cry came from the other room, and Cas pulled away to go see what Claire needed, and the moment was broken. Diana Prince stepped out onto the battleground called No Man’s Land, and Emma grinned. Dean sighed. Perfect moments couldn’t last forever. 

Lydia had been nothing like Lisa, but had also behaved rather more like Castiel had expected both Beta mothers to. Leaving her daughter in a home that was suddenly occupied by another adult obviously concerned her. How she’d come to her extremely blunt conclusion, he wasn’t sure. Nor was he sure how they’d have handled it if she’d decided otherwise. She’d had no more interest in Claire than her daughter did.

Fortunately, Claire was oblivious to the fact that the older girl was actively ignoring her. Where Ben had seemed all too eager to slip into the older brother role, Emma just wanted Dean all to herself. Again, Cas could relate. But one thing about Dean, he just managed to have enough love to go around. Even with two kids who were biologically his, he’d opened his heart to Claire pretty much as soon as he’d met her. Maybe Emma didn’t realize that about her dad yet. He hoped she’d figure it out soon.

Just as Diana and her love-interest were arguing over whether she could make it through “No Man’s Land”—Dean was grinning, clearly making the same connection Cas just had to that Lord of the Rings movie they’d watched a couple of months ago—Claire started to fuss. Cas quietly excused himself and went to tend to her.

Sure enough, she was wet, as he’d expected. He made short work of getting her changed and then stepped back out to rejoin Dean and Emma. When he got to the living room, though, he found that Emma had sprawled herself so that Dean had moved back over, leaving not quite enough room for Cas to rejoin them. She’d probably complain about having to catch him back up, too.

He couldn’t fault her. She was used to having Dean’s full attention when she visited for her weekends, and watching this movie together was clearly a thing they did often enough that she knew much of the dialog by heart. He could join them again another time, when she was more used to him being around.

Quietly, he eased back into the bedroom, changed into his bedclothes, and grabbed the book he’d been reading. The whole idea of heirloom tomatoes was fascinating, and while there was no room for a true garden here, he wondered if there would be a way to rig something on the railing of the landing at the door. It would be nice to eat food they had grown themselves.

After a few chapters, he felt himself dozing off and set the book down, using an old envelope for a bookmark.  Even though he was already practically asleep, it felt strange trying to fall asleep in Dean’s bed without Dean in it. He’d grown used to sleeping alone after his divorce, but that was in the subsidized housing for displaced Omegas that had become his temporary home. Once he and Dean had begun dating, any time he’d stayed here, it had been to spend the night with Dean.  Since he’d moved in, sure, Dean wasn’t here on the nights when he had to work, and Castiel slept uneasily then too, but this was stranger still. Dean was home, just a couple of rooms away, and yet not in the bed.

Castiel mentally shook himself. He was being ridiculous. Just moments ago, he’d barely been able to hold his eyes open. He practiced one of the breathing techniques Missouri had taught them in their group and soon found himself drifting off. Not so deeply, though, that he failed to register the dip in the bed when Dean joined him or the brief press of lips against his hair.

When he woke up, Dean was surprised to find both the bed and the crib empty and the aroma of coffee wafting through the air. He probably shouldn’t be. Cas had gone to bed first, after all. That had been disappointing, but he’d probably picked up on Emma wanting Dean’s full attention. Granted, hers was fully on the movie, but whatever. Kid logic.

Sure enough, when he got to the kitchen, Claire was in her highchair, green goo smeared everywhere, Cas trying to get at least some of it actually into her. The mug of coffee at his elbow was probably lukewarm at best, so Dean topped it off before filling his own.

“Dean, I didn’t hear you get up.” Cas turned and looked up at him. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah.” He leaned in and planted a kiss on Cas’s lips. “You?”

“Yeah.”

Something about that sounded off. Smelled a little off, like leather in need of a bit of oil. Before he could ask, the kid room door clicked open and Emma came rushing into the kitchen.

“Why’s he in my chair?” she demanded.

“Good morning to you, too,” Dean said. “And I don’t see your name on any of the chairs. There’s two more to choose from.”

How she managed to flounce in her Tweety Bird pajamas was beyond Dean, but flounce she did, as she chose the chair farthest from Cas, putting herself right next to Claire. Dean had a feeling she’d end up regretting that choice, but she was clearly not in a mood to be told that.

Did she really have a favorite chair? He couldn’t remember, but yeah, there probably was one she’d been used to. He always sat in the one nearest the stove, after all, which is probably why she’d skipped that one. Keeping Claire as far as possible from the stove was why her high chair had the spot that it did, and of course Cas was going to be in one of the chairs next to it.

“So, what’re you in the mood for?” he asked. “French toast? Pancakes?”

“French toast,” she muttered.

Dean decided that was going to come with extra cinnamon in hopes of improving her mood for the day. He opened the fridge and pulled out the eggs and milk and started mixing up the batter.

“Ew! Da-ad!”

He sighed and turned to see what had happened this time. Sure enough, Emma now had a gob of what was probably pureed spinach on her face. Cas was attempting to hand her a napkin, which she was studiously ignoring.

“Sorry, kiddo. Babies are messy.”

“I was never messy!” she pouted. She finally, grudgingly, took the napkin from Cas.

“Pretty sure your mom and I both have pictures that say otherwise,” Dean retorted.

“Nuh-uh.”

Oh, yeah, this day was off to a great start.

None of Dean’s stories about his mini-golf excursions with Emma could’ve prepared Castiel for the reality. He’d said they were competitive. He’d said they got intense. Neither of those adjectives quite lived up to this.

They’d made it through the first five holes with just a bit of bragging at each other. “Talking smack” was, he believed, the correct phrase. This windmill, however, was taking things to another level.

“You’re never gonna get this one, Dad. You always miss this one!”

“You just watch yourself,” Dean shot back. “Maybe I’ve been practicing since last time.”

If he had, though, it hadn’t been enough to be able to hit the ball in such a way that it would go through the hole in the base of the windmill, out the other side, and bounce off the little wall at just the right angle to go in the hole.  In fact, he hit it hard enough that the ball bounced over the edge and went into the real grass alongside. Even Castiel knew that wasn’t good.

“Son of a … well, your turn, kiddo.” The way Dean stomped over to retrieve his golf ball was vaguely reminiscent of the way Emma had stalked over to her chair at breakfast.

So, that was where she’d inherited that then.

Of course, while being closer to the ground may have given Emma some advantage in terms of seeing through the bottom of the windmill, that was not enough for her to make the shot on her first try either. As far as Castiel could see, nobody could reasonably expect to make that particular hole in one shot. This particular hole was listed as “par three.” According to Dean’s thirty-second orientation at the start of all this, that meant one could, on average, expect it to take three attempts to sink the ball.

Neither of them appeared to believe this should apply to them.

“This is a stupid game,” Emma said, her brows scrunched together.  “Why do we always have to play it?”

“Because it’s the only thing you’re willing to do that isn’t on the computer!”

Claire was picking up on the energy between them. Going by Dean’s scent, he wasn’t actually upset. Emma still hadn’t presented, so her scent wasn’t much of an indicator of her emotional state. That was probably a good thing. Because while Castiel could tell (he thought) that neither of them was seriously angry at the other, Claire could not. He picked her up out of the stroller and bounced her on his hip to settle her, humming a tune that was probably way off key.

“Ugh, and now she’s going to start crying. Why’d they have to come, anyway?” Emma demanded.

Castiel drew in a sharp breath and forced himself to let it out slowly. He knew Dean wanted them all to get along, but Castiel really should have insisted on being dropped off at the park to take Claire for a walk. They wouldn’t have many more days warm enough for that, and this excursion was proving that old saying about golf (mini or otherwise) being a good walk ruined.

“Emma, kiddo, they’re part of our family now too. Tomorrow, you and I can …”

“They’re part of your family, not mine!” She turned her back and stalked over to the next hole.

She’d been saying as much in all but words since she’d arrived. The words still stung.

“Sorry,” Dean said softly. “I’d really hoped …”

“You’d best catch up with her, Dean,” Castiel said, “before she decides you’ve chosen us over her. I’ll take Claire for more of a walk. I think that’s what she’s in the mood for anyway.”

Claire patted her hands against Castiel’s shoulder, which he took as agreement.

After a moment, Dean nodded and went to join his daughter.

Once Claire was back in her stroller, Castiel said and signed, “You know, I’m the one walking. You’re in the stroller.”

She just giggled at him.

Clearly, both of their daughters had what they wanted: their fathers to themselves. Castiel wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that, but once they got past the parking lot and to the sidewalk running along the street, he was more focused on keeping the stroller near enough to the shop fronts to keep Claire interested in her surroundings while avoiding other pedestrians. That was enough to think about.

Chapter Text

Dean wasn’t sure what he wanted to say in group this time around. He felt like the weekend had been a disaster, even though he and Cas had managed to get through it without either of their daughters having a major meltdown. That was literally the only thing on his mind. It wasn’t exactly part of his post-traumatic stress. Just single-parent-blended-family drama.

It was eating away at him, though. Possibly literally. He might just have to get checked for an ulcer with the way his stomach had been gnawing away at him.

How could he have handled it better? Maybe he should’ve introduced Emma to them before Cas and Claire moved in? Would that have eased the transition rather than just, boom, new people living in Dad’s apartment? It had just never seemed to be the right time, however, and now he couldn’t go back and redo it.

There went his stomach again.

Fortunately, some of the other group members were eager to start things off. Sarah had managed to make some inroads in the art world that Dean would have to ask Cas to explain later. Garth had had a flashback and scared his pups, which he was feeling guilty about. And Hannah … Dean barely heard what Hannah was saying about her new job. He should be paying more attention. She was Cas’s family too, after all. And really, he should be listening, no matter who was talking. Especially when it turned out the person who was talking was Missouri.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” he asked.

“I said you look distracted,” the therapist said. “Obviously I was right. Got something to share with the class?”

Dean sighed. “I mean, it’s not really on topic. Things just didn’t go so great with Emma’s visit this weekend.”

Missouri waved a hand for him to continue.

“After having Ben’s visit go so well, I was really hoping hers would too,” he said. “She just really wanted me all to herself. I don’t know if it’s an age thing or just a personality thing or what.”

“Could be either,” Missouri said, “or both, or neither. Does it matter?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, if it’s an age thing, then I just wait for her to grow out of it and hope Ben doesn’t grow into it,” he said. “If it’s a personality thing, I just don’t even know.”

“Have you tried asking her?” Garth asked.  “Sometimes the twins have me completely mystified, but when I ask them what they want, they usually find a way to tell me.”

“Yeah, but do you always give them what they want?” Dean was kind of afraid of what Emma’s answer was going to be. No, he was sure what her answer would be, and giving up Cas just because she was feeling possessive wasn’t an option. It had to be possible to get them to at least coexist, right? People did that, right?

“Course not,” Garth said. “But at least then I know what I’m working with. It’s the guessing that’s stressful.”

“That’s a great point,” Missouri said. “That’s true for every parent, to be sure, but for someone who’s experienced trauma, and is worried about where the next danger is going to come from, that’s going to be cranked up a notch or three.”

Dean barely kept his jaw from dropping. Was that why his gut had felt like it was twisting in on itself ever since that little scene at the mini-golf course, Emma walking one way and Cas and Claire going the other? Would it be still bothering him this much so many days later if not for Alistair and his bullshit?

“I can see the wheels turning,” Missouri said. “Castiel? Anything you want to add to that?”

“It does feel a bit like walking on a tightrope,” he said thoughtfully. “I often felt that way with Bartholomew, though at the time I thought that was normal. I hadn’t made the connection.”

“Nothing about any of us is normal,” Gabriel said with a snort. “Kinda why we’re here.”

“No,” Missouri said, “what you’ve been through is not normal. There’s a difference.”

Dean thought that difference might be a lot more subtle than Missouri seemed to think, but she was the therapist, so he wasn’t going to argue. Not out loud, anyway.

“So,” Missouri asked, “what are you going to do about it, Dean?”

“I think I’m going to let it rest for the moment. I don’t think this is a conversation I want to have over text or over the phone, and I’m not going to see her again till it’s her weekend again.”

“And in the meantime? Don’t think I don’t see you looking like you need your appendix out. You may not be throwing off much in the way of stressed Omega pheromones, but you’re obviously having a hard time with this.”

“Just keep doing your breathing exercises and journaling, I guess,” Dean said. He didn’t add that it was less about “keep doing” them and more about “get back to doing” them.

Missouri’s little smile said she knew that anyway. She always seemed to know what was going on in Dean’s head. It was a little spooky sometimes, but he guessed that was what made her such a good therapist.

Castiel hadn’t really thought about the rollercoaster of the last few days in terms of his experiences with Bartholomew. It did make sense, though. Bartholomew had thrown Claire and him away, so of course, it made sense that hearing a member of Dean’s family say he was not part of her family hit those buttons.

Dean, however, was clearly feeling torn. That was the larger concern. He might want them all to be one big happy family, but that couldn’t work without everyone being on the same page. What call would he make if Emma didn’t come around?

How had Castiel allowed himself to be in this situation again? He’d known it was too soon for them to move in together. And now, once again, if his relationship failed, he and Claire would be homeless. The fact that his caseworker was Dean’s sister-in-law just made things all the more complicated. Well, had been his caseworker. He didn’t really have one now that he had a job and non-subsidized housing. Would she be allowed to be his caseworker again if he found himself in need of one? Or would he have to start over with someone new?

He took a deep breath and counted to five as he let it out slowly. Missouri caught his eye, and he realized she’d picked up on his distraction and his use of one of her breathing techniques to pull out of the spiral he’d been sliding into. Surprisingly, she didn’t ask him any further questions but moved on to Gabriel, who was being his usual outrageous self.

When the group finished up, most of them headed over to Benny’s coffee shop, per usual. Sarah took her coffee to go and told Castiel she’d see him later when he came in to work. Hannah similarly just grabbed a coffee and headed to her new job. He thought she would do well at Sam’s law firm. He was slightly concerned that this was another way he’d combined the two families, though he trusted that even if he and Dean didn’t work out, Sam would not hold that against Hannah.

Garth almost never came to coffee after group, so that left Gabriel, Dean, and Castiel. Benny brought over their coffees and ran down the list of pastries he’d made for the day. Dean, surprisingly, declined to have any pie, so Castiel did as well. Gabriel, far more predictable, got one of those cream-filled donuts dusted with sugar.

“Well, you two are a couple of downers today,” Gabriel said, mouth half-full of the sugary treat. “C’mon, you’ve got to have something good going on.”

“I’m just tired,” Dean said. “Long shift last night.”

Considering it had been twelve hours, the same as every other shift, Castiel didn’t know what to make of that. Dean hadn’t said anything over breakfast about any particular difficulties, but then, he didn’t often talk about his work. Had something gone wrong? Had someone lost their pup? He supposed he could ask later, but he wasn’t sure that was wise.

“I am looking forward to cataloging the new items arriving today for the next show at the gallery,” Castiel said. “Max and Alicia Banes do some very interesting things with natural materials.”

“Huh. When’s that one open? They have free wine and stuff at those openings, right?”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Yes, they do. That’ll be a week from Friday.”

“The ninth?” Dean asked. “Huh, I hadn’t realized that. I wonder if Ben would want to go. That’ll be the Friday of his weekend.”

Right, this would be the first opening that hit a weekend Dean wasn’t working, meaning one of his kids would be arriving for their time with him. Castiel knew it was unreasonable, and frankly a lot like Emma’s behavior last weekend, for him to see this as encroaching on time he usually spent with Dean one-on-one, even though he himself was technically at work at the time.

Actually running the openings was Sarah’s job, not Castiel’s. He just liked seeing the result of his work helping her catalog all the items and, for that matter, seeing a preview of the sales documentation and shipping he’d be helping to process the following week. And considering one of these openings had become his and Dean’s first date, well, yes, he did feel a bit jealous of that time.

At least Dean was hoping to involve Ben, not to skip it. That was encouraging.

“I’m not sure that will be his ‘cup of tea,’” Castiel said. “However, it would be nice if he was interested in coming.”

The smile Dean flashed said he’d been thinking along similar lines. It would likely be an earlier than usual night, at least for Dean and Ben. Castiel might stay to help out, or he might not. Perhaps he should, giving them a bit more time one-on-one, since Claire would be with Sam and Eileen.

Oh.

They usually watched Claire on gallery opening nights so that Dean and Castiel could have the evening to themselves, and they would pick her up the next morning. Except this timing meant they wouldn’t have the evening to themselves after all. That meant it would be at least a month until they had an evening for just them, and that would depend on whether the gallery opening night hit one of Dean’s work weekends or one of his kid weekends. It seemed they’d just been lucky so far.

They really needed to start planning these things out.

“I guess you’re right,” Dean said with a sigh as he pulled the Impala to a stop in front of the gallery.  “Damn, we’ve been lucky not to have these intersect so far. Hopefully, that won’t happen too often, but it’s bound to happen again.”

He wasn’t sure why the idea of setting up a calendar to plan when his kids’ weekends would line up with Cas’s gallery openings bugged him. His work schedule versus the kids’ weekends? That he could hold in his head. Every other weekend, he worked Saturday-Sunday. Every other weekend he had either Ben or Emma Friday-Sunday. But it wasn’t like the gallery openings were always on the first Friday night or the second. That, he was never going to be able to just remember.

“It’s all right, Dean. We’ll figure it out.” Cas leaned over and gave him a quick kiss before ducking out of the car and into the gallery.

Dean watched him go. How was it that Cas was able to have that kind of certainty? At what point was he going to realize that dealing with Dean and his baggage was too much work and just … move on, like everyone else did.

Everyone else except Alistair. At least he and John were behind bars. Silver ones, too. Whatever pull she had with the prosecutor, Jody had made sure of it.

So, okay. He’d go with what Cas said. They’d figure it out. He stopped to pick up a calendar at the drugstore on the way back to Bobby’s. They actually had some that went through the end of next year, which was cool. He chose one with flowers and bees. He didn’t really get Cas’s fascination with them, but he didn’t have to get it to go along with it.

When he got to Bobby’s, Dean took the calendar upstairs first and spent a few minutes filling in his work weekends (W) and then which of his free weekends were Ben’s (B) versus Emma’s (E). That done, he realized he now needed to be down to the garage, so he left it on the kitchen table. He could figure out where to hang it up later.

Once he had Claire settled in her stroller, Castiel said a quick thank-you and goodbye to Krissy, the daycare teacher in charge of the infant room and set out for home. The late-September evening air was a little crisper than usual, and although sunset was still a good hour away, the change in light was getting noticeable. He was going to have to learn to drive or something for at least the winter months. Walking Claire home wouldn’t be viable soon.

What would he drive, though? He made little enough at the gallery. It was enough that he could contribute something towards the expenses of the apartment, and clearly enough to mean he and Claire no longer qualified for subsidized housing, though thankfully the daycare voucher was still in place. But it wasn’t enough to buy a car. Not even one of Bobby’s fixer-uppers.

These were not things Castiel had ever expected to need to worry about. He’d been brought up to believe that his Alpha would handle all of these things, and he would only need to worry about birthing and raising their pups. He thought he was adjusting reasonably well to holding down a job, even if it was only part-time. There was just so very much to think about.

By the time he reached home, his thoughts had been circling through the same things to the point he was glad to focus his attention on wrangling Claire out of her stroller, folding it up, and heading up the back stairs to the apartment. He left the stroller at the bottom of the stairs for now, rather than risk juggling both it and Claire. Once she was securely in her high chair, he could go back down for it.

For her part, Claire had lots to say about her day, with both hands and mouth. He couldn’t understand the sounds she was trying to combine, but he managed to make out from her signs that she’d had a good day. She really did seem to take to Krissy. That had bothered him at first, but the young Beta took care of more infants than just Claire, and it could only be a good thing for the pups to like her. So long as Claire still reached for him when he came to get her, he was happy.

He got Claire buckled into her high chair and handed her one of her favorite toys. That’s when he noticed the calendar on the table. He flipped through it and saw that Dean had gone through making note of his work weekends and which weekends the kids would be coming. That would be helpful. One thing that was painfully obvious, though, was that with all those boxes filled, there was little to no room to put any “C’s.”

It was a silly, selfish thing to think. They had plenty of time during the week. Even on the days when Dean picked up a per diem shift at one of the schools, they still had dinner and the evening together. When he worked at Bobby’s, same thing, plus he was right downstairs.

Castiel headed back downstairs to get the stroller to put it away.

His mother would say he had been getting above himself anyway, what with the job and all. So, naturally, he would become increasingly selfish, since he was no longer truly an Omega.  Hell, he was still even toying with the idea of legally changing his status to Beta once he managed to save enough to get his mating gland removed. All of this was far more than he had ever believed could be his, never mind a romantic, even sexual relationship with a fellow Omega. Where did he get off wanting more?

“Hey, forget something?”

He looked up guiltily to see Dean standing in the kitchen doorway holding the stroller.  Apparently, Castiel had not even closed the door behind him, as he hadn’t heard it open.

“Sorry.” He reached for the stroller to set it into its spot in Claire’s … in the children’s room. “I was going to go back down for it after I got Claire settled, but then I got distracted.”

“Oh, yeah.  After our conversation this morning, it seemed like a good idea so we can plan better. Whenever Sarah tells you the openings are going to be, could you maybe add those too?”

Castiel came back into the kitchen. “Of course, Dean.”

He thought for a moment, then added. “Are you sure you want to bring Ben to the opening? You don’t think he’ll find it boring?”

“I mean, if these artists’ stuff is a bunch of people boning, then maybe not, but he’s really into art. You saw how into his drawings he got the last time he was here. I don’t know if he’s going to stay super into art as he gets older, but for now anyway, he might find it cool to see other people’s art.”

“Nothing I have seen so far suggests that the Banes twins create sexually themed art,” Castiel said. “But considering last month’s artist, that is a valid concern.

The artwork had been beautiful, to be sure, and had undoubtedly contributed to the very … energetic evening they’d had once they’d gotten to Castiel’s apartment. (How strange to think that had been only a few weeks ago.) In any case, though, it was not a show that would have been appropriate for a four year-old pup.

“Ooh, they’re twins? He’s going to think that’s cool too. I think it’s a great way to start off his birthday weekend,” Dean said.

“Will Sam and Eileen still be available to watch Claire?” Castiel asked. “Or would it make sense to ask if Joanna could watch her here, since we won’t be alone anyway?”

“That’s a good question.” Dean ran his fingers through his hair. “We don’t have to decide right away. We could maybe even bring her this time?”

Castiel forced a smile. “Maybe.”

It was fine. It was all going to be fine.

Chapter Text

Cas had seemed off since group the other day, so Dean felt an unusual sort of pressure to make tonight a particularly enjoyable one. It was getting chilly these days, so he decided on a nice hearty stew, which he left simmering away in the slow-cooker while he stopped off at Benny’s to pick up dessert on the way to get Cas from work.

“You sure about this, brother?” Benny asked. “Honey buns are more of a breakfast thing.”

“Have you seen him when he gets one, though?” Dean asked. “Personally, I still think your pie is better, but these are what he goes nuts for.”

In hopes of keeping it a surprise, at least until they got home, Dean tucked the telltale box under his jacket on the floor of the backseat, well out of reach from Claire’s baby seat.

When Dean pulled up in front of the gallery, Cas was just inside the door. That was unusual. He usually had to go in to pry Cas from his work. Dean glanced at the clock. Shit. That extra stop had made him a little late. Dean left the engine running and reached across to open the door for him.

Cas slid in and leaned over to give Dean a brief kiss before buckling his seat belt.

“How was your day?” Dean asked. Cas’s scent radiated contentment, so Dean guessed it had been a good one.

“Interesting,” Cas replied. “This is the first time since I’ve been at Blake’s that we’ve done a show with more than one artist. That doesn’t change things a lot, but it does change how I have to enter them into the database.”

“Huh. I guess that makes sense. So, like, are some of the pieces by one and some by the other?”

“And some by both,” Cas agreed. “I look forward to when Sarah starts getting the pieces actually set up next week, to see which ones are which. The pictures we put in the database never tell the whole story.”

“No, I guess they wouldn’t.”

They pulled up to the daycare and Cas got out to collect Claire.  Dean opened the back door on the passenger side and opened the trunk to stow the stroller. As he came back around to the driver’s side, he saw Claire predictably reaching for his jacket, even though it was well out of her reach. Something about the texture of the leather fascinated her. He’d have to see about finding her a toy that would have the same effect.

From there on out, Claire carried the weight of the conversation, babbling about her day with the occasional sign to clarify what she meant. Dean only caught a little of that when he checked the rearview, but Castiel made encouraging noises at what Claire apparently accepted as appropriate points in the “conversation.” By the time they got back to the apartment, she was winding down a bit. Thank goodness for that, as it would make dinner slightly less chaotic.

Cas carried Claire up the stairs and Dean followed with the stroller, the honey buns, and his jacket slung over his arm. Once he stowed the stroller and hung the jacket, though, there was no more hiding it. He set the box down next to the slow cooker and lifted the lid to give the stew a stir. Rich, meaty scent filled the room. He turned the heat back on under the double-boiler that held some carrot, some sweet potato, and some squash to warm it back up before sticking it in the blender for Claire.

“Smells good,” Cas said, coming up behind Dean to peer over his shoulder.  “And what’s that? You stopped at Benny’s?”

“Thought it’d be nice to have a special dessert,” Dean said. “No peeking till after dinner though.”

Cas gave Dean a little squeeze around the waist.  “I’m looking forward to it.”

Honey buns. The box might not be labelled, and clearly Dean intended them to be a surprise, but Castiel could smell them, even though the scent was mixed in with both Dean’s scent and the smell of dinner.

Dean had gone to Benny’s to get honey buns for dessert. So that was why he had been late! Castiel had been worried that he’d gotten caught up in one of his projects in Bobby’s garage and lost track of time. That was not something he’d ever done, so there was no reason to think that. No rational reason, anyway.

There were so many thoughtful things that Dean did, both for Castiel and for Claire. Picking up his favorite pastry for dessert. Making a separate set of the vegetables for Claire so she could eat at least some of what they were having. Looking at the calendar, which now had a C marking next Friday as an art show night, alongside the B marking it as the start of Ben’s weekend, it was clear that Dean was trying to find a way to blend the two families.

What was Castiel doing?

He had absolutely no idea. For now, once he’d said his silent prayer of gratitude holding both their hands, he decided to focus on feeding Claire alternately with eating Dean’s delicious stew himself. This was their night together, once they’d gotten Claire to sleep, so it was time to focus on the present.

Eventually, they did get dinner finished and Claire to bed, saving the treats to go with their show. Castiel didn’t understand why Dean enjoyed watching this medical drama so much, considering the amount of time he spent pointing out everything they got wrong, but it was a joy to watch him do it anyway. By the end of Dr. Sexy, Dean’s honey bun was long gone, but Castiel was still picking at his, making it last through his show as well.

Tonight, that show was Treehouse Masters. He liked the idea of making an actual house in a tree for the pups to play in someday. Someday when they had a home with a tree to build such a thing.

“That actually looks pretty doable,” Dean said. “Done right, we could even make it work for all three kids.”

“I do not think Claire will be climbing trees before she walks,” Castiel pointed out. His heart swelled in his chest, though. Dean was looking to the future and seeing them all still together.

“No, but she’ll want to get up there if she sees the other kids up there. We’d have to carry her up. I mean, if we had a place like that.” Dean’s voice trailed off.

Castiel hadn’t wanted to broach the subject. He and Claire had only moved in a few weeks ago, and it had been not-quite-sudden but not particularly well-planned. So suggesting that this home might not be large enough was not his place. Was he trying to push Dean to make that leap on his own, selecting this show? Honestly, it had just looked interesting when they’d pulled up Animal Planet’s listings, even though his usual go-to was Crikey! It’s the Irwins.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Dean asked.

Damn his ability to scent even Castiel’s damaged pheromones.

“Nothing,” he said, rather than try to explain it all. He snuggled under Dean’s arm and took a deep breath.

Dean gave his shoulders a squeeze and picked a piece off of Castiel’s honey bun, feeding it to him. Castiel accepted the sugary treat and kissed Dean’s fingers for good measure. Dean wasn’t going to throw them away. That was obvious. He just needed to stop being such an irrational Omega.

Chapter Text

Fortunately, Sam and Eileen had been happy to take Claire for the night. In fact, they’d found Castiel’s concerns somewhat mystifying, it seemed.

“You think I’m going to take a pass on a slumber party just because you two aren’t going to have the place to yourselves?” Eileen asked as Sam bounced Claire in his arms.  She turned to Claire and signed, “We’re going to have so much fun!”

“You know,” Sam said, “if the two of you want us to take her again next week so you can have the night to yourself, I don’t think Auntie Eileen would complain.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Going for extra practice? We might just take you up on that.”

Castiel found himself bristling at that, and he wasn’t sure why. Dean wasn’t speaking for him. He hadn’t given a definitive yes, just as he hadn’t with Lisa. The answer to both probably would be yes, but he was leaving room for discussion between them. So what was wrong? The possibility of another evening without Claire?

“Why can’t Claire come to the art party?” Ben demanded.

“Claire’s too little, buddy,” Dean said. “She’d get bored pretty quickly.”

Castiel wasn’t so sure that was a given. She loved looking at all the trees and things when they took walks at the park. She might appreciate the Banes’s work. The problem, he thought, was that she was likely to try to grab onto pieces of the sculptures, some of which were quite fragile.

The show, as it turned out, was definitely something Ben enjoyed. He chatted up the Banes twins, demanding to know how they were twins since they didn’t look exactly alike. Fortunately, they seemed charmed rather than annoyed by a question they’d probably heard far too often in their lives. Alicia, in particular, seemed to take to him, talking at length about the twigs and branches she’d gathered for one of her pieces.

“We’re in trouble now,” Dean said. “He’s not going to settle for coloring after this.”

“Perhaps he’ll be showing his art here someday,” Castiel said. He rather liked the idea of potentially nurturing this pup into a grown artist someday.

Assuming you’d be there to see it.

He shook his head to clear the thought away. Things were going well. No need to borrow trouble.

Dean hadn’t been to Lisa’s house in months, as she preferred to drop Ben off directly after picking him up from school on his Fridays. It was a nice little ranch with a backyard, where she had a bouncy house set up for the kids.

Being surrounded by all these four- and five-year-olds was enough to make Dean grateful that the schools where he sometimes subbed tended to have older kids. There was still chaos, but the pitch was slightly lower. Ben seemed to be having a good time, though, and he should be good and worn out by the time he went to bed.

Cas was rocking Claire gently in her baby seat. She very obviously wanted to get out and play with the kids, but she also seemed fine with watching them and babbling.

“It’s not too much for her, looks like,” Lisa said with a smile, offering Claire a finger to grab at.

“It’s probably not that different from the daycare,” Cas replied. “They have older kids, after all. Possibly even some of the same ones, though I don’t know any of the children outside her age group.”

Dean thought that was less likely, though perhaps some folks from this town did commute to Lawrence. It wasn’t that far, after all.

Clearly, some of the other parents had taken notice of the fact that Dean had arrived with a fellow Omega. Most didn’t make anything of it. Most save one blonde Omega woman, who waited until he’d gone to grab a beer for himself and a soda for Cas, who was still nursing Claire at least once or twice a day.

“So, you got yourself an Omega,” she said, reaching for and opening a wine cooler.  “First a Beta and now an Omega. Couldn’t catch yourself an Alpha?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dean said firmly. “Also, it’s none of your business.”

“I’m just saying.” She shrugged. “Might not be setting the best example for your son.”

“Again, none of your business, Karen, so back off.” Dean let a hint of a growl out with that. Not that it was easy for one Omega to intimidate another, and not that he was about to start something with one of Lisa’s guests. But if she didn’t back off soon, something inside him was going to snap.

“The name’s Becky,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder and clearly not understanding him. “And anything that affects Lisa is my business. She’s my friend.”

“I’m glad she’s got friends looking out for her,” Dean said, sincerely. Then he shifted back to being annoyed. “Clearly she’s not worried about it, so I suggest you back. The fuck. Off.”

Becky pulled back as if she’d been slapped, then turned and stalked back over to a squirrelly bearded man, who looked very unlikely to be an Alpha. So, projecting, he guessed. The man glared at Dean, who just went back to Cas and handed him his soda.

“What was that all about?” Cas asked.

“Nosy neighbor,” Dean said with a shrug. He sought out Ben in the bouncy house, surrounded by a bunch of pups too young to know or care about secondary genders. He let his free hand drift to the small of Cas’s back and focused on the warmed leather scent of him, letting that ground him. He wasn’t about to let some Karen named Becky start him questioning something that felt so right. It couldn’t be bad for Ben, or Emma for that matter, to see their parents in loving relationships, even if not with each other.

Castiel should have expected that some of Lisa’s friends might be less open-minded than she. While Dean had downplayed that little interaction, his scent had gone fiery hot, a sure sign he was angry. It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes, any of the versions Dean had introduced him to, to deduce what the problem had been.

Several of the parental pairs here were traditional Alpha-Omega pairings. A few were Beta-Beta. Interestingly, the nosy blonde Omega seemed to be with someone who was either a Beta or a very atypical Alpha. Either way, that made the whole thing even more odd, and if anything, even more disconcerting.

Claire seemed to pick up on his discomfort and started to fuss a bit. He rocked her seat gently and made soothing noises at her. The various parenting books were conflicted over the extent to which pups could scent their parents’ emotional shifts and whether that had any relationship to how they would eventually present. The one thing they did agree on, though, was that they definitely could sense their parents’ emotional states and would respond to them, so best to keep them reined in.

Dean’s hand was warm against the small of Castiel’s back. Reassuring. Grounding.

“What did Lisa have to say?” Dean asked.

Ah, now there was the place it would make more sense for Castiel to feel jealous. Their relationship was still cordial. If Dean were going to go back to one of his children’s mothers, surely it would be Lisa. Had he had any concerns in that area, though, they had been laid well and truly to rest.

“She was happy to see we’d brought Claire,” he replied. “Had nothing but good things to say about you, don’t worry.”

Concerned things, to be sure. It was almost like the sort of talk he’d expected to have with Sam. Except Sam knew how they’d met. Knew that Castiel probably knew more about what Dean had been through than even Sam did. Knew that Castiel had stood with Dean against both John and Alastair when they’d tried to take him away. Castiel didn’t know how much Lisa knew about what Dean had gone through when John had essentially sold Dean off to Alastair, what kind of hell that Alpha had put him through. But clearly, she knew something.

”Let me be blunt. Dean clearly dotes on you both. He’s had a rough go of it. I’m not going to say ‘don’t hurt him’ because we always hurt the ones we love, whether we mean to or not. Just, whatever happens, please be gentle with him.”

“That sounds like her,” Dean said. “She’s a good friend and a good mom to Ben.”

The warmth in Dean’s scent was calming. Reassuring. He spoke of her almost the same way he spoke about Joanna. Not quite as brotherly, to be sure. But there was something reassuring about it, as there had been, oddly enough, with the friction that clearly existed between Dean and Lydia. Because despite that, they still managed to deal with each other.

That might, however, be down to the pups. Of course, Dean would maintain cordial relationships with the mothers of his pups. He might “dote on” Claire, as Lisa had said, but Dean was a labor and delivery nurse. He loved babies generally. And however much he loved Claire, she wasn’t his. When this ended, Castiel was far less certain they’d be able to maintain that sort of relationship.

Chapter Text

Dean’s next weekend with Emma started out slightly better than the last one had, in that Lydia barely glanced at Cas before reminding Dean, for the eight-millionth time, to have Emma ready to be picked up at 5 on Sunday. It wasn’t like that ever varied. All just part of the routine.

Emma once again ignored Cas and Claire, giving Dean a big hug and telling him all about her intramural soccer team and how her team had crushed the (only) other elementary team at Lawrence Elementary. As usual, she swore she had no homework, and Dean took her at her word. Maybe she did, maybe she didn’t, but she’d be getting home early enough on Sunday to take care of it if she did.

Dinner was uneventful. Emma wrinkled her nose at the small cheese pizza that Cas had so that he could share the crusts with. Considering her attitude, he and Cas had agreed that introducing her to their little dinner ritual could wait until she’d mellowed out a bit.

After dinner, she wanted to play Animal Crossing, which Dean did while Cas got Claire ready for bed. It was actually more fun to play together when they weren’t in the same space. It was a little weird to be snuggled up to her on the couch playing together as opposed to grabbing a few minutes here and there to visit her island or create something for her to discover on his. But this was part of their Friday ritual.

She was wrinkling her nose every so often and scrunching up her forehead. What could possibly be bugging her that much.

“Stuck on something?” he asked.

“Everything smells like them now,” she said. “Especially him. Why do they have to live here?”

Shit, this was going to be a minefield of a conversation. Just how much could she smell?  She should be a couple of years away from presenting, so her sense of smell shouldn’t be that keen yet. Obviously, however, it was keen enough.

“Your mother dates people,” Dean said cautiously. “I know none of them have moved in, but someday she may decide she wants them to.”

“No, she won’t,” Emma said with a level of certainty that only an eight-year old could achieve. “And she won’t go live with them either.”

“Well, sometimes when grown-ups love each other …”

“Ew! Don’t talk about that part!”

Okay, well, at least Lydia had had The Talk with her.

“Not that,” he said. “Although that’s part of it. But sometimes they decide to live together because they want to be together all the time.”

“You and Mom never did,” Emma pointed out.

“We were very young,” Dean said, “which is why it’s a good idea to wait until you’re older for these things.”

She scowled at that. Fair enough. That was pretty close to, “You’ll understand when you’re older,” which he’d never liked being told. She did, however, lean into him again and rest her head on his shoulder.

They went back to the game. He wondered what was going on in her mind.

When Cas came out to the living room to join them, she sat up straight and glared at him.

“I’m going to bed,” she announced.

“At seven?” Dean asked.

She went into the kid room and slammed the door.

“What was that about?” Cas asked.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Dean admitted.

Castiel thought he might have some idea what Emma’s problem was. For one thing, him being here clearly bothered her. For another, the fact that he had brought another little girl into Emma’s father’s home was also something that clearly bothered her.

Perhaps they had moved in together too quickly. Letting outside circumstances dictate when that happened was something that concerned Castiel, but as Dean had said, they would likely reach this point eventually anyway.

The simple solution for easing Emma into this change in her father’s life would be for Castiel and Claire to go away on a couple of her weekends. Or for at least part of them. The problem was, they had nowhere else to go. It was one thing for Eileen and Sam to take Claire every so often, but even then, it was just for the night. Castiel couldn’t ask them to host both of them for the whole weekend.

Castiel’s family was out. As far as they were concerned, both Castiel and Claire effectively died during her birth. In their eyes, as in his ex-mate’s, she had ruined him as an Omega by rendering him unable to bear any future pups.

So this was it. This was his home now. He and Emma and Claire were just going to have to figure out how to deal with one another when she was here. He wished he could find something they were both interested in, but that appeared to be a lost cause. Her interests were pretty much sports, that animal video game, and Dean. They did share a (very different) interest in Dean, but that was the root of the problem.

He supposed he could learn that game of hers. It did involve nature and animals, so perhaps he could even become interested in it. He got Claire up and changed and settled her in to nurse while Dean was cooking breakfast. Taking out his phone, he one-handedly looked up “Animal Crossing” on his phone. The number of things that came up was confusing, but the one called “Pocket Camp” looked to be the game she and Dean played, from what he’d seen.

He switched Claire to his other breast and started the game, which apparently involved “conversing” with a guitar-playing dog. By the time she was done, he was being told to go get materials to build a campsite, which he supposed was progress. He ended the game, put his phone away, and went to join them.

The kitchen was filled with the scents of Dean, coffee, bacon, and eggs, in that order. Apparently today it was going to be omelets. Considering those were one of the few ways to get vegetables into Dean, Castiel was not surprised the same was true for Emma.

“Can we play mini-golf again?” Emma asked.

“Sure, kiddo,” Dean said, ruffling her hair. He turned and looked to Castiel.

“Could you please drop Claire and me off at the park on the way?” Castiel asked. That seemed a better option than a replay of last week.

“Sure, if that’s what you want.” Dean’s eyes said he had his doubts but was willing to go along with it so long as Castiel was sure.

Castiel nodded. Keeping the peace was his goal today.

Emma definitely seemed more like her usual self once they got settled in at mini golf. Dean supposed that made sense, since that made it more like one of their regular weekends with just the two of them. Maybe this was the way to get her used to Cas and Claire being part of her life, having them there but not always there? That didn’t feel right to Dean, but this was about Emma.

They did two sets of eighteen holes and then headed back to pick up Cas and Claire, with a promise of ice cream if the cart was there.

“It’s getting pretty late in the season, kiddo,” Dean warned as they got into the Impala. “They may not be there.”

“Nuh-uh,” Emma insisted. “They’re always there until Halloween. Always.”

Dean wasn’t sure that was true, but then again, she probably paid more attention to that sort of thing than he did. He hoped she was right, because that meant this would be the last chance until next spring.

He texted Cas to meet them at the ice cream cart, got a prompt “ok,” and hit the road.  It took circling the park a couple of times to find a parking spot, but once he did, Dean got out and followed as Emma made a beeline to the ice cream cart.

“What’ll it be, young lady?” the ice cream man asked.

“I want the one with the chocolate and the nuts!” she announced.

The vendor looked to Dean who nodded. It was this same ritual any time they came here.

“You got any plain vanilla?” Dean asked.

The man handed him a little paper cup with a pull top and a wooden spoon. Dean hadn’t realized they even still made these. He handed it to Cas, who looked befuddled until Dean took it back, pulled off the top, and scraped a little bit onto the “spoon” to give Claire a taste.

“Why’s she always get the boring stuff?” Emma asked.

“Babies have sensitive stomachs,” Dean said as he watched Claire’s startled reaction to the cold treat. She opened her mouth for more, though, and he handed the cup back to Cas.

He got a strawberry shortcake-on-a-stick thing for himself and paid the guy. It was definitely getting a bit chilly for ice cream, but it was still good. They wandered over to a nearby bench. Dean sat and Cas followed. Emma stayed standing, eating her nut-covered treat with alarming speed.

“Hey, hey! Slow down, kiddo. Don’t you want to take the time to enjoy it? It’s not like it’s July and it’s gonna melt on you.”

“Wanna play on the swings,” she said. “Soon as you guys finish, you’re gonna wanna go home.”

Dean rolled his eyes.  “We can do both, kiddo. Don’t make yourself sick just to fit everything in.”

She gave him a weird look but slowed down to a pace less likely to result in choking on those nuts.

Dean wondered exactly what went on in that head of hers sometimes. Now was definitely one of those times.

Chapter Text

Castiel had one large spoonful for every little bit he gave her. It was probably still a little rich for a pup her age.

In between, he watched Emma doing some rather impressive moves on the monkey bars. He wondered if that would be Claire in a few years, hanging from her knees and then kicking forward to dismount, landing on her feet.

“Does she take acrobatics?” he asked.

“Nah,” Dean said. “She’s more about her soccer. This year, anyway. Last year it was softball. Maybe she’s working up to acrobatics for next year.”

“Is that usual?” Castiel asked. “To change interests so frequently, I mean?”

“I think it depends on the kid. So far Ben seems pretty set on art, but he’s only four. I think some of them know their thing right away, some need to try lots of things, you know?”

Castiel didn’t know. Not quite in the way Dean meant. He’d tried a number of hobbies as a child, but only leather tooling was allowed to “stick,” as it was seen as a useful skill he could bring to his Alpha mate when he grew up. Of course, he didn’t really remember much of his life before he had presented as Omega. Perhaps he’d been more interested in trying different things before then. And possibly even allowed to.

By the time he and Claire had finished their cup of ice cream with the oddly flat spoon, Emma seemed to have tired herself out and was working her way back to them. Dean took the empty cup and spoon and tossed them in the trash can with the stick from his own treat.

“We good to go?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” Emma agreed. “Can I help make dinner?”

Dean looked startled, eyes open wide.

“You,” he said, “want to help with dinner.”

She shrugged.

“Okay. Let’s make lasagna. That’ll be a fun one.”

By the time they got back to the apartment, Claire was good and tired. She’d had a bit of a nap during their walk in the park, but not a long one. The trick now was going to be to keep her up through dinner so that she slept the night, or at least most of it. Emma was helping Dean make dinner (which was apparently unusual), so Castiel focused on reading Claire one of her favorite stories. She loved the book with the textured animals and took great joy in “petting” each animal in turn.

“Hey, dinner’s just about ready,” Dean said, poking his head into the bedroom. He noticed what book they were into and smiled. “Claire-bear, the animals will still be there after dinner.”

She tapped her fingers to her mouth and looked up at Castiel.

“Yes, dinner-time. Let’s go. We can pet the rest of the animals before bed.”

She babbled away as they went into the kitchen and got her situated in her high chair. The portion in her little dish was a distinctly unappetizing shade of brown. Castiel darted a look at Dean questioningly.

“Spinach with a little tomato. Kinda did the opposite of brightening it up. But I figured those were the parts of the lasagna she’d be up for.”

Castiel turned to Emma, who had claimed Dean’s seat at the table. “You made a spinach lasagna? That sounds delicious.”

She just shrugged and squirmed a little.

Castiel reminded himself to be patient with her. He focused on feeding Claire and eating his own portion of dinner. And when they were done, he decided to try a slightly different approach in order to avoid making Emma uncomfortable.

“That was wonderful,” he said to Dean. “You and Emma make a great team.”

Dean, clearly catching on, grinned and ruffled Emma’s hair. “Yeah, we do.”

The rest of the evening seemed to go smoothly enough, as both pups were tired out enough to go to bed early. Neither Castiel nor Dean were quite as tired, though, and so they watched an episode of Dean’s medical show once they’d gotten the kitchen sufficiently cleaned up and ready for the morning. Eventually, though, they too went to bed.

“I thought today went a bit better,” Castiel said.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “I think it’ll just take time.”

And space, Castiel thought, but didn’t say it. Much as this apartment was roomier than his subsidized one had been, there was still not quite enough room for three pups. When Claire got a bit older, moving her bed every other weekend was going to be impossible, unlike moving her crib.

When Cas slid under the covers, Dean pulled him in for a kiss, though he kept it chaste. With Claire in the room and Emma down the hall, it really wasn’t the right time for anything more. As lovely as it was to tangle their legs together as Cas put an arm around Dean and kissed him back, this couldn’t turn into a serious make-out session. Reluctantly, he pulled back.

“Thanks for trying with Emma,” he said. “It means a lot to me.”

“She means a lot to you,” Cas replied, “so she means a lot to me, too. And I can relate to her wanting you all to herself.”

“Yeah,” Dean sighed. “We’re going to have to get a little more creative making sure we have some ‘just us’ time.”

“The calendar’s a start,” Cas said. “Missouri would be proud. Will be, when I bring it up this week.”

Dean traced a finger along Cas’s cheekbone and then back along his jawline. “You’ve decided that’s on-topic?”

“It’s not a thing Bartholomew would’ve done,” Cas said. “If he had set up a calendar like that, it would be to keep me in my place, not to make space for time with me. Something like that might be helpful for someone else in the group, too.”

Most in the group weren’t currently in relationships, some having sworn off them entirely, as Dean once had. They might even be the ones who’d find an idea like this most useful, though. That there could be a relationship where both people worked at it, instead of some knothead making all the decisions.

“That calendar needs more you,” Dean said, threading his fingers through Cas’s hair. Cas snuggled in closer. “Part of it was just so we could see when gallery openings would coincide with kid visits, but …”

The door burst open and Emma ran in, tears streaming down her face. She launched herself onto the bed.

“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” she yelled. “Don’t let him take you away! I’ll be good, I promise, just don’t let him take you away!”

She shoved at Cas, which Dean would normally correct her for, but he was already getting up to see to Claire, who’d woken up and was fussing.

“Shh,” he soothed. “I’m not going anywhere. Nobody’s taking me anywhere, baby girl.”

Normally, that endearment would get him a glare or even a raspberry. It was a measure of just how upset she was that instead, she burrowed in next to him in the bed, something she hadn’t done in over a year.

A soft click told Dean that Cas had taken Claire out of the room to soothe her back to sleep.

“Did you have a nightmare, kiddo?” he asked.

Emma nodded against his shoulder.

“Want to tell me about it?”

“He … he took you away, just like the other one. And this time, you didn’t come back!”

Dean squeezed his daughter to him. He should’ve realized that was how it would look from her perspective. He and Lydia had agreed upon an explanation for her when he’d first returned from being mated to Alastair. It had been enough for a six-year-old. It seemed like he was going to have to explain a little more to her now.

“Nobody’s taking me away,” Dean said. “Not ever again. The Alpha who took me away before is in jail now. Cas helped stop him from taking me away again.”

“Even though he’s not an Alpha like Mom?”

“Alphas are generally stronger than Betas and Omegas,” Dean said, “but physical strength isn’t everything.”

He proceeded to tell her, in somewhat sanitized terms, about how Alistair had crashed his and Cas’s first date, determined to take Dean back, even though Dean had broken the mating bond. He showed her the scar from having his mating gland removed, proof that Alistair no longer had a claim on him. That, he had shown her before, and she’d always found it reassuring.

“But then, how’re you and Cas mates?” she asked.

“We’re not, in that sense,” Dean said. “But we’re scent-bonded, and we love each other.” He paused. “And we love each other’s pups.”

“He’s just trying to be nice to me so he gets to keep you,” she said. “Then he’ll take you away too.”

“You want to hear what he said to me just a little while before you came in here? He said, ‘She means a lot to you, so she means a lot to me, too.’ He hasn’t had very long to get to know you, but he cares about you. And he’s not taking me away from you, just like I’m not taking him away from Claire.”

“But she gets to live with you,” Emma said. “Does she go to her other dad on weekends sometimes too?”

“No,” Dean said. “She does go to Uncle Sam’s and Auntie Eileen’s sometimes though.”

“Is that why she signs?” Emma asked. She had picked up a couple of signs from Eileen in the few times they’d met.

“Partly.”

“She’s not very good at it.”

“She’s a baby,” Dean pointed out. “She’s not very good at a lot of things. She hasn’t had eight years to practice stuff.”

Emma made a humming noise. Her breathing had evened out. She wasn’t ready to fall back to sleep yet but would be soon. For now, Dean could practically see the gears in her little brain turning. He wondered what she was thinking, but decided to wait and see what she chose to share.

Dean’s phone lit up, just at the edge of his peripheral vision. He grabbed it, hoping like hell it wasn’t an emergency call-in to work tomorrow. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it was a text from Cas. He sent a quick reply and set the phone back down on the nightstand.

“You can stay here if you need to,” Dean said. “But Cas sleeps here too, so we might need to rearrange a bit to make that work.”

Emma looked up at him, then crawled over him to the other side of the bed just as the bedroom door clicked open. Cas set Claire in her crib and then turned to raise a questioning eyebrow at Dean. Dean patted Cas’s side of the bed, and Cas climbed under the covers.

It took a minute or two of shuffling around, but ultimately Dean curled protectively around Emma, and Cas semi-spooned behind Dean, hugging a pillow instead of Dean, but tangling their feet together.  It was a good compromise.

“I didn’t realize your schedule was that tight,” Sarah said. “Cas, you should’ve said something. Openings happen when we schedule them. We can make sure they fall on a week when Dean’s pups aren’t visiting.”

“That is very thoughtful,” Castiel said. “But honestly, Ben enjoyed attending the last opening, and for all we know, Emma might too. Our scheduling isn’t your problem to worry about.”

The last thing he wanted was to become a burden at work. It was his first job ever, and even though Sarah was a fellow Omega and knew some of his past, it was her father who owned the gallery. And the artists probably had their own scheduling issues. Castiel didn’t want to become a complication.

“I like that you’re making sure to schedule in time for each other,” Missouri put in. “Many couples with pups, blended family or not, forget how important that is.”

“And some alone time,” Garth added. “Bess has been good about making sure I get some time to work by myself on my puppets, and I try to make sure she has time to go to the coffee shop and do some writing. We don’t really have a built-in babysitter for couple time, though.”

“This is great and all,” Gabe said, “but I didn’t think this was family counseling.”

“I decided it was relevant,” Castiel said, “because it’s something Bartholomew would never have done. If he had set up a calendar like this, it would’ve been to make sure I knew how unimportant I was.”

Dean had added Castiel’s workdays onto the schedule, even though (gallery openings aside) they were unchanging. Seeing how they sometimes intersected with Dean’s weekday shifts had even convinced him of the value of meal planning, though Castiel’s agreement that they could change things up if the mood struck had been a factor there as well.

“My alpha used to keep a calendar of my heats and his ruts,” Hannah said. “He did it so I could order supplies, which were never right, even when they were exactly what he’d requested.”

That this had resulted in beatings went unspoken. She’d talked about that on other occasions.

“I like the idea of using one like you have,” Hannah continued. “Balancing things between you. Do you think that only works because you’re both Omegas?”

“It’s possible,” Castiel replied. “But it could be worth trying if you find another partner someday. One you trust not to use it to control you.”

“There’s some truth to the belief that Omegas are naturally more nurturing,” Dean said. “It makes some biological sense. I work with some pretty amazing Betas and even Alphas at the hospital, though. They nurture patients just fine. We’re not just our biology.”

Castiel smiled proudly. He knew that was something Dean had believed for a long time, but it meant a lot that he’d become able to voice it.

“And that’s time for this week,” Missouri said. “Everybody’s homework is to come up with some kind of a tool for making sure your needs are met. Get creative.”

As they filed out of Missouri’s office, Dean took Castiel’s hand and led him to the Impala.

“We’re skipping Benny’s?” Castiel asked.

“I got something to show you,” Dean said with a grin. “We’ll hit up Benny’s for dessert later this week.”

Dean drove them back home, which was odd. What could he possibly have to show Castiel at home that couldn’t wait until after work? And now Dean was going to have to drive Castiel all the way back into town to work, as there wouldn’t be enough time to walk, and anyway, the skies were looking pretty threatening. Getting caught walking in a late October rainfall was not on Castiel’s list of favorite things.

“This way,” Dean said as they got out of the Impala. He started toward the ground-level floor leading into Bobby’s shop. Once inside, he stopped by a large golden car. “I want to show you the project I’ve been working on. It’s done.”

Castiel smiled. Dean was always proud of his work, and of course, if it was finished, the owner was probably coming to pick it up sometime today. “It looks like another classic. This is what you’ve been restoring, then?”

“I mean, it’s not as classic as Baby,” Dean said, “but yeah. It’s a 1978 Lincoln Continental. Come on, check out some of the detailing.”

Castiel wasn’t sure he knew which details he was supposed to notice, but he did admire the chrome accents, which was apparently part of it. As he peered inside, he noticed there was a car seat base in the back seat. It was the same brand as Claire’s, even. He supposed it was a popular one.

“The owners have a pup?” he asked.

“You could say that.”

When Castiel looked back up at Dean, he was grinning wildly.

“What does that mean?” Castiel asked cautiously.

“It means you idjits aren’t going to make it through a Kansas winter splitting a car,” Bobby said from behind him.

Castiel stared blankly.

“Dean’s been restoring this car from the salvage pile since before you moved in,” Bobby said.

“It’s yours, babe,” Dean said.

“It’s … but I don’t know how to drive. I don’t have a license.”

“We’ll work on that,” Dean said.

“It’s … it’s too much! I can’t …”

Dean pulled him into a hug. Castiel went willingly, letting Dean’s warmth and his cinnamony scent ground him. A car? Dean had built him a car?

“Yes you can. And before you start talking about repaying anything, remember, you saved my life. And now I know you also saved Emma from some kind of breakdown. I never knew she took it that hard when I was … when I was gone.”

Emma had been pretty distraught the other night. And, whatever Dean had told her, she’d looked at Castiel differently the next day, not that she’d said anything.

The full weight of what Bobby had said sank in. Dean had been working on this car since before Castiel and Claire had moved in. He’d been all in all along.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything,” Dean said. He pulled back a little and pressed a kiss to Castiel’s forehead, then leaned in to plant a quick kiss on his lips as well. “We’ll get working on driving lessons tomorrow. For now, let’s get you to work.”

Chapter Text

Castiel pulled up just as Dean was unloading groceries from the trunk of the Impala. It was almost comical to watch him hurrying up to get up the stairs of their front porch first, juggle everything while he unlocked the door, and dash inside. It looked like the groceries were leading the way, and Dean was rushing to keep up before they fell.

Castiel took his time getting Claire out of the Lincoln, settling her on his hip and slinging her bag over his shoulder before locking up the car and heading inside.

“You realize you could have set those down the porch,” he said, as he shut the door, cutting off the early December chill that had come in with them. He hung his keys up and glanced at the calendar, even though he knew what was planned for tonight.

The porch had been one of the big selling points for the house. Clearly Dean wasn’t used to it yet, but it had been only a week. Truly, it still felt as though they were on some sort of a vacation. Castiel had never lived in a place that felt simultaneously so spacious and so warm.

The biggest selling point, however, had been the bedrooms. There were enough for each of the children to have a room that was entirely their own, whether they lived there full-time or part-time. Claire would no longer have to move rooms when Ben or Emma came for their weekend, and Dean’s children could arrange their rooms to their taste. Within reason.

Ben would be the first to have that opportunity when he arrived later that evening. According to Dean, Lisa had sounded very happy about sending some of his toys with him to stay. Castiel had a feeling they might be the toys that were the loudest, but he hoped he was wrong about that. Ah well. One weekend a month for them versus the rest of the month for Lisa. That was probably fair.

As Dean put away the groceries, Castiel got Claire settled into her playpen in the living room. When he came back into the kitchen, his eyes were drawn immediately to a gardening magazine in the middle of the table.

“What’s this?

“Just thought maybe we should start planning what we’re going to do with that patch out back come spring,” Dean said. “We’ve got time, but it never hurts to plan.”

Castiel grinned. “Yes, we could perhaps grow our own tomatoes and spinach for that lasagna of yours.”

Dean smiled and nodded.

Castiel looked over toward the door where his keys hung under the calendar.

“Hey, where are your keys?” Castiel asked.

“Oh yeah, gotta get in that habit.” Dean fished in his pocket and pulled out his keys. He rubbed his thumb over the leather key fob Castiel had made for him months ago. He retraced his steps and placed them on their hook next to Castiel’s, then ran his fingers over the calendar, stopping with a finger on the box representing today. Unlike most days that had specific dinners written in, today said, “Ben’s choice.”

“What do you think Ben will pick for dinner tonight?” Dean asked.

“Does it matter?” Castiel shrugged.  “But also, probably burgers.”

Dean came over and gave him a kiss. Castiel leaned into it, letting his arms slip around Dean’s waist, then rested his head on Dean’s shoulder. He inhaled deeply, Dean’s sweet cinnamon spice making him smile. Dean smelled like home. Yes, he was home.