Archive of Our Own ^beta

Oddly enough, the Apocalypse ended on Thanksgiving Day.

Very early in the morning, the sky still littered with stars, Dean stood in an empty warehouse in Detroit, flanked by Sam and Castiel, and let Michael possess his body just long enough to defeat Lucifer. It turned out there really wasn't any other way of ending it, but Michael never had any intention of burning the world. In fact, the end was oddly anticlimactic and the thing Dean remembered most from Michael wasn't the passion of battle, but the consuming sadness at finally losing his brother.

Dean could relate, but he wasn't sad to see the fucker gone.

Right before Michael vacated Dean's body, he gave Castiel an extra shot of ultra ramped up Grace and told him to heal Dean. Then he left for parts unknown and really, it didn't matter to Dean because once Castiel had brought him back to consciousness and healed his boiled insides, he was more than ready to be done with angels once and for all.

Well, most angels.

Castiel followed them back to the motel more out of habit than anything. They all three trudged into the room quietly and fell into chairs or beds, too exhausted to speak. But after having the whirling storm of an Archangel's thoughts and feelings inside his mind, the quiet was just far too quiet for Dean, so he gathered enough energy to tug the remote off the nightstand and flick on the television.

It was the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade of all things. As the familiar voices of Matt Lauer and Meredith Vieira floated into the room, discussing the height of the black and white float charging up 34th Street, Dean felt tension he didn't know he carried drain out of his shoulders.

"At least Lucifer didn’t make us miss Snoopy," he said.

It was the first thing anyone had said since they left Michael, the first statement of their new lives. He met Sam's eyes and for a moment, they just stared at each other. Then, Sam chuckled and his smile was so unexpected that Dean laughed too. It broke the dam. Two years worth of fear, anger and anticipation poured out laughter that only grew with each passing moment, until neither could breathe long enough to calm down.

Castiel watched with a worried expression, but he didn't say anything until the laughs were only escaping every few seconds instead of continuously.

"I don't understand what's funny," he told Dean.

"Nothing," Dean said and he dragged himself up from where he'd flopped back onto the bed. "It's just…I just let a fucking angel take over my body so he could kill the fucking devil," Dean said. Castiel looked like he wanted to say something, probably that he already knew it, but Dean beat him to the punch. "It was either laughter or screaming and crying, Cas. We chose laughter."

"I see," Castiel said and maybe it was three years in their company, but Dean thought he really meant it. "You need to deal with intense and frightening emotions in a safe manner."

"Whatever," Dean said, flopping back again. "You should try it. It'd do you some good."

"I am not amused," Castiel said. He sounded so bland, like stuffy royalty, that Dean nearly erupted into laughter again, but he managed to stave off the attack and instead turned on his side.

"So do the angel equivalent. Pray until your mouth hurts or fly until your wings fall off or something," Dean said, earning a helpless giggle from Sam, who was lying on his own bed and staring at the ceiling.

"Hmm," Castiel said in a thoughtful considering tone. Dean glanced at him, curious. "Maybe I should."

"Really?"

"Not until I cause myself pain, but…these years have been very difficult," Castiel allowed as if they hadn't literally been to hell and back in that time. "It'd be nice to fly freely without worries."

"Go for it," Dean said. Something occurred to him, a concern he'd been able to suppress until that very moment and Dean swung his legs over the side of the bed, launching himself to his feet. "You'll come back, right?"

Dean ignored the way Sam laid a pillow across his own face, presumably to block out the sounds of Dean being a total girl, and instead focused on the way Castiel's eyes gentled.

"Of course. If you'd like that. My Father has given me permission to choose my next duty." He paused as something shy and vulnerable crept into his face. "I was hoping that could be here, with you and Sam. Helping you."

Dean's god, yes, please got stuck in his throat, tangled up with overwhelming relief and something else he didn't want to name yet. Castiel waited patiently, not moving his gaze, not even blinking while Dean processed the feeling of getting this on top of defeating Lucifer and keeping Sammy intact. The moment stretched out and Dean wandered into his own mind, imagining spending every day and night with both Sam and Castiel, hunting bad guys and relearning how it felt to be unburdened by the world's problems.

He waited too long to answer.

"Yes, Cas," Sam finally said, voice muffled by the pillow he then lifted up. "I don't know about Dean, but I'd like to have you watching my back. Actually, I lie. I know all about Dean and he wants you watching his back too." He threw the pillow on his face again and Dean could have sworn he heard Sam add quietly Among other things.

"Yeah," Dean said, jerking his thumb towards Sam. "What he said."

The vulnerability slid out of Castiel's expression in favor of quiet pleasure. "In that case, I will return this evening. Enjoy your parade."

Dean listened for the rustling noise that always signaled Castiel's departures, but it was delayed. Instead, Castiel pinned Dean with a serious, almost reverent look and he walked to him, placing both hands on his shoulders.

"Thank you, Dean," Castiel said. He didn't know if the thanks was for wanting Castiel to stay or for letting Michael use his meat suit once Dean realized the archangel was kind of an okay guy or for the last three years of sticking together through everything, but it didn't matter because Dean knew he should be the one thanking Castiel. There were three people that kept Dean sane during the whole ordeal and Castiel was one of them.

"No, hey," Dean said, awkward and embarrassed. "We couldn't have done it without you," he said because it was easier to include Sam when saying shit like that. Castiel accepted his words with far more grace than Dean had.

"Even so, you have my thanks," he said before turning to where Sam was watching them curiously. "As do you, Sam."

"Um, you're welcome," Sam said and when his cheeks colored, Dean felt better about himself.

"I'll return later," Castiel promised and then Dean finally got to hear his wings shifting into flight. Between one blink of an eye and the next, he was gone. Dean watched the empty space where he’d stood until Sam cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow at him.

"What?" Dean growled, defensive. He threw himself onto the bed and pointed back to the television before Sam could answer. "Look, it's your favorite. Barbie."

"Right, because I'm the girl," Sam deadpanned.

Dean scowled at him, but couldn't find it in himself to really be annoyed. This was exactly how they were supposed to be, both alive and well and always ready to mock one another. And now they could add into the mix one straight-laced and oftentimes obnoxious angel that had somehow became as necessary to Dean as breathing. Things were good. Really good.

Too good to be true kinda good.

So when things went to pot two weeks later, Dean had been expecting it and actually felt rather relieved. Because the problem was stupid and annoying, but it wasn't deadly and that was all that mattered in the end.

It started when they stumbled across a demon named Alain who’d managed to escape being locked back in hell with his fellows. It wasn't the first demon they'd fought since Thanksgiving. A lot of the motherfuckers got out when Lucifer rose and it would be quite some time before they were all destroyed. Equipped with enough holy water to drown an elephant, Ruby's knife and some kick-ass angel mojo, the Winchesters and Castiel had found and killed nine demons in those two weeks before they met Alain.

It was surprisingly relaxing work. Hunting demons by day. Research mixed with movies and as much junk food as they could eat by night. After Sam and Dean fell asleep, Castiel returned to Heaven to commune around with his brothers and met them to start it all over the next morning.

Dean had never been happier.

They were in West Virginia when they caught wind of Alain's activities. A series of unexplained disappearances were reported in Charleston and while it wasn't explicitly supernatural, they were in the area anyway and decided to check it out. It took thirty-six hours, multiple trips to the victims’ homes and Castiel using his now fully restored angelic powers to read minds before they confirmed it was a demon and tracked the bastard down to the basement of a dilapidated apartment building on the outskirts of town.

If it had just been Alain, they would have had no problem ending him.

But he was holed up with witches.

Three witches.

More specifically, Dean spied two women and one dude through the opened crack of the door Alain had disappeared behind. They were gathered around an alter, their faces alight with twisted glee.

"So what, are they working together?" Dean whispered, exchanging a dark glance with Sam. This was just what they needed. Demons teaming up with witches and wreaking all kinds of shitty havoc across the state.

"Listen," Castiel murmured, laying a hand on Dean's arm. The touch reassured Dean far more than he'd have guessed.

They listened in growing horror as Alain explained to the witches that he'd disposed of the bodies as they’d asked. One of the chicks said they only needed two more kills before they had enough power to finish the ritual and then they'd be even.

Even for what, Dean didn't want to know. He'd heard enough. He itched to burst through the door and start taking them out, but before he could, Alain suddenly threw his head back and climbed out of his meat suit, black smog erupting from the mouth of the pudgy brown-haired host. Once Alain was out, he slipped around the edges of the small window set high on the wall and disappeared into the night. The host fell forward, choking and panicked and when the witches closed in on him, that's when Dean realized what was going on.

The demon was bringing them sacrifices.

He was through the door without a second thought.

The next five minutes were a blur. Dean caught sight of surprise on the witches' faces right before his fist slammed into the male's jaw. He felt Sam and Castiel crowd into the room. A brief flapping noise told Dean that Castiel had taken the poor host somewhere safe and then another announced his return. In that time, Dean earned himself a couple of bruised ribs and a nasty cut across the face, but he also managed to slide Ruby's knife through the guy's throat. He turned just in time to see Sam take out one of the women.

It was the other witch that was the problem.

Everything happened so fast. Dean saw her hands reach out towards Sam, felt Castiel rush past him, heard the witch’s voice rise to an ear-splitting shriek and then blinding white light filled the room. Dean was knocked back against the frigid concrete wall, his breath torn from his lungs as he clapped hands over his eyes. Then he fell hard on his ass.

It was very quiet after that.

There were spots hovering in Dean's vision when he finally managed to blink open his eyes. The first thing he saw was Castiel standing over the witch's dead body, a grim expression on his face.

The second thing he saw was a child.

He looked about three years old. His long floppy hair was brown, his enormous hazel eyes confused and he was standing naked in a pile of Sam's clothes.

Dean blinked. "Please don't tell me…”

The child started sobbing and that's when Dean knew. He'd recognize that sound anywhere. Dean scrambled to his feet, ignoring his screaming ribs and flew across the room to Sam. He fell to his knees and picking up Sam's shirt, wrapped it around the child, the three year old Dean hadn't seen in twenty-five years.

"Hey, shhh, calm down," Dean soothed as he gathered Sam to his chest, turning wide eyes on Castiel. "What the hell happened?"

"It was the witch's spell," Castiel said with what Dean recognized as false calm. He didn't know when he'd gotten so good at reading the angel, but Dean sensed Castiel felt as freaked as he did and that helped calm him considerably. Not enough that Dean forgot his brother was now small enough to fit neatly into his arms, his tiny face buried in Dean's neck as he cried. But enough to make the situation manageable.

"I think she intended to drain his life force," Castiel explained, staring at the back of Sam's head. "I couldn't stop her. I could only modify her power into something less…life-threatening. I'm sorry."

He sounded truly sorry, maybe even a little pissed at himself. Dean stood up, groaning slightly against the effort of hauling Sammy up while his ribs hurt so much.

"Dude, it's not your fault," Dean said, hobbling towards him. Castiel met him halfway and carefully laid a hand on Dean's side, sending a warm jet of healing Grace through his body. Powerful relief coursed through Dean's veins and without thinking, he leaned into Castiel. "This is better than life-draining."

Sam's tears had slowed and he hiccupped wetly against Dean's collarbone.

"Um, but…you can fix it right? I mean, please tell me you can fix him," Dean said, suddenly afraid it'd be another twenty-five years before he saw Sam at his right age again.

"I don't know," Castiel said. The intensity of the gaze he directed at Sam increased till Dean felt as though Cas were trying to see through to the back of Sam's skull.

"Cas?"

"He's full of power," Castiel said uneasily.

"O-o-kay, I don't like the sound of that," Dean said as he started unconsciously bouncing a now sniffling Sam against his hip. "Sam and power don't have a good history."

"It's not power he can use," Castiel said. He stepped into their space and cautiously reached towards Sam. When neither Sam nor Dean protested, he laid his hand against Sam's dark curls and the touch seemed to help Castiel see even deeper, if the sudden dawning of understanding in his eyes was any indication.

"This is why the witches were killing people," Castiel said. "They were somehow increasing their magical powers by draining their victims of their life energies. They must have had to fill the humans with their own power first though because Sam is carrying her magic. The witch died before she could withdraw her power along with Sam’s life force."

Dean hugged Sam closer against his chest, but it only marginally helped melt the icy block formed there. If Castiel hadn't returned when he did or hell, if he'd gone back home after the last battle, Dean would be holding his brother's withered corpse instead of a warm breathing living child. Dean would take kid over dead any day.

"Can we get the power out of him?" Dean asked shakily.

"I'm not sure," Castiel confessed. He laid his other hand against Sam's back and despite himself, Dean smiled when Sam leaned into Castiel's touch and stared at him with his huge teary eyes. Dean had forgotten how big Sam's puppy-dog eyes used to be.

"I can't take it myself," Castiel said in frustration a moment later.

"Okay. It's okay," Dean said, even though he didn't much like that answer. It wasn't Castiel's fault. "We'll figure it out. You saved him. That's what important."

Sam patted the side of Dean's face and grinned, apparently over crying about scary witches.

"Dean," he said and suddenly lunged forward to twist his arms around Dean's neck in the kind of death grip only kids can manage.

"Yeah," Dean struggled to say. "It's me, Sammy. We'll get you through this. Don't you worry."

Judging by the way Sam squeezed Dean one last time and leaned back to plant a big wet kiss on his cheek, he wasn't worried one bit.

*********

The first order of business was finding Sam some clothes. The blue checkered shirt he'd been wearing when this happened was big enough to wrap around his three year old self twice. Which was good because Decembers in West Virginia were not mild. Dean also draped Sam’s leather coat around his shoulders so that only his head popped out of a mountain of material and gathered him into his arms again. He instructed Castiel to get the rest of Sam's stuff before they left to find the car.

"You're going to have to watch him," Dean said after he buckled Sam into the passenger seat. It wasn’t nearly near as safe as a baby’s car seat. It struck Dean with overwhelming clarity how much shit they'd need to buy if Sam was going to stay like this for any length of time.

"Watch him?" Castiel asked, bemused.

"While I get some stuff for him at the store," Dean explained, leaning over to swat Sam's hand as he tried to open the glove compartment.

"Stop that," Dean said automatically. And that was before he remembered the extra pistol in there. He swiped a hand over his face. "My god, we're going to be baby-proofing the motel room for hours," he said.

"Watch him?" Castiel repeated.

"I can't take a naked baby into a store to buy clothes," Dean snapped, rubbing his temples.

"Why not?" Castiel asked plaintively. He sounded as if he thought having a naked child was nothing more than acceptable evidence that they needed the clothes. Dean didn't feel like going on a rant about human customs, so he just started the car and threw it into reverse.

"Trust me, I just can't," Dean said with an explosive sigh. Sam had stopped trying to get into the glove compartment, but was now leaning forward as far as he could go and he was in real danger of flipping over his seat belt. "Damn it, Sammy, sit still."

Sam jerked back and turned offended eyes on Dean. Another thing Dean had forgotten. Sam's patented bitch-face had emerged at an early age. The big eyes and childishly unreserved emotions made it a thousand times worse. Dean resisted the very real urge to flip him off.

"Ok, let me think," Dean muttered as he steered the car back towards the motel. There were two choices here. Either Dean went shopping for Sammy while Castiel watched over him or Dean sent Castiel into the unpredictable wilds of an Earth mall. He glanced over at Sam, watched for a brief moment as Sam began biting one of his coat buttons and had a sudden vision of Castiel chasing Sammy around their motel room while Sam tried his very best to kill himself.

Technically speaking, Dean trusted Castiel to keep Sam alive. But Sam was a baby. A small defenseless, probably confused baby and if Dean left him to go shopping, he'd go crazy with worry.

"Alright, change of plans," he said. Castiel brightened with what was probably relief, the coward. "I'll watch the kid. You go shopping."

"Shopping?" Castiel asked in the exact same tone he'd used to question the babysitting orders.

"Dude, I can't do this whole thing by myself," Dean said with far more desperation leaking into his tone than he liked. It would just be too much to make it through hell and death and Lucifer only to have Castiel bail on him because of a frigging baby.

"No, of course not," Castiel said instantly and now determination pushed past his worry. "Forgive me. I just don't know what to get."

"Leave that to me," Dean said.

The rest of the ride lasted in silence. Dean tried not to think about how warm Castiel's support made him feel while Castiel stared at Dean in the rearview mirror and Sam fell asleep pressed forward into his seatbelt. When they got back to the motel, Dean transferred Sammy to one of the beds and then wrote out what turned into a lengthy list of stuff. Not just clothes, but little kid versions of all the junk people use to keep clean and healthy and some toys to keep Sam entertained. He handed the list to Castiel, who read it with widening eyes.

"This is quite a lot of items," Castiel said. The task of shopping was probably one of the more daunting of Castiel’s time spent on Earth. Castiel had never done any of these mundane human chores without Dean's help.

"If you get into trouble, just call me," Dean said and before he could add anything else, Castiel was gone. Dean blinked at the empty space he left behind. He hoped Castiel remembered to bring the faked ID and credit card they'd gotten for him under the name David Warren. If not, well, it wasn't like anyone could keep his ass in jail.

Dean resolved not to worry and instead called Bobby to let him know what was going on. Bobby laughed, of course, after Dean assured him that Sam was safe and mostly sound. But he also promised to research de-aging curses and mixing powers, so Dean forgave him.

After they hung up, Dean gathered all but one of the hidden knives and guns littered about the room and carted them to the Impala’s trunk. Ruby’s knife stayed in the room, but on a shelf high above Sam’s reach.

When he ran out of useful things to do, Dean threw himself down on the bed with Sammy and dozed lightly.

His nap lasted until his phone rang fifteen minutes later.

"Yeah?" Dean grunted into the receiver.

"I don't know where to begin," Castiel said. Dean heard the sounds of the mall in the background, throngs of shoppers talking and laughing overlaid with a soundtrack of Christmas carols. Dean imagined Castiel standing stock still at the center of a swirling mass of humanity.

"Where are you exactly?" Dean asked.

"I've just entered a store called 'Baby Gap'," Castiel explained. Dean frowned. That sounded expensive, but what the hell. It was only a few outfits and David Warren probably wouldn’t care. "There are far more clothes to choose from than I anticipated."

Dean sighed. He just never imagined they'd have a kid. That is, have a child travelling with them. Whatever.

"Um," Dean said, but before he could continue, a bright female voice filtered through the phone.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"Say yes," Dean told him.

"Yes, please," Castiel said. "I have this list of items I need to buy."

Presumably Castiel handed the paper to the woman because he heard her make a humming noise and then say, "Wow, this is a lot of stuff. Is this for your son or daughter?"

"Tell her son," Dean said because he didn't want to sit there and listen to Castiel explain it was for the de-aged brother of the human he was sent into hell to rescue. Luckily for Dean, Castiel had almost gotten used to lying in order to keep people from asking questions. He didn't like it, but he did it.

"My son," Castiel said. Dean mentally created the flicker of distaste crossing Castiel's face. The woman probably thought he was a bad father now. "I'm afraid I don't have much experience with purchasing clothing for children."

"It's ok. We'll get you sorted out. How old is your son?"

"I don't know," Castiel said calmly.

"That's great, Cas. Now she's going to overcharge you for being a deadbeat Dad," Dean told him, though he was secretly amused. Dean reckoned Castiel might not be such a bad father when it came to the whole emotional support thing, but keeping the kid clothed and healthy seemed a little beyond him.

"Oh, well, is that your wife on the phone? Maybe she could tell me more," the woman said.

"No, this is Dean. He is…" Castiel faltered, probably because of Dean's change to their real story. Dean considered telling Cas to say he was a friend, but the whole concept of a guy calling his guy friend for baby advice seemed so weird in his mind that he paused. Paused long enough for Castiel to come up with his own lie.

"He is the child's other father," Castiel said politely. "He will probably know more."

Then suddenly Dean found himself on the phone with a chipper young saleswoman who introduced herself as Elle.

"Your partner seems a little lost," Elle said cheerfully.

"Yeah, he usually does," Dean growled, uncomfortable without knowing why. It wasn't like he cared if this random chick thought he was raising a kid with Castiel. But something about it made him feel exposed, like this girl now knew something about him that he wanted to hide. Which made no sense because what she believed was entirely untrue.

"I understand," Elle said. "My husband is the same way."

Dean winced. Great, now he was the wife in their non-existent relationship.

"How old is your son?"

They spent the next few moments discussing Sam. Going by Sam's size and his own memory, Dean guessed Sam was just over three and a half years old. He made up a story about their house flooding to explain why they needed three of everything. It made Elle fuss over him, but Dean barely heard her because he was too busy imagining having a real house out in the middle of nowhere with his own bedroom, safe in the knowledge that Sam and Castiel were there with him.

It took almost twenty minutes to pick everything out and then she handed the phone back to Castiel.

"Hi, honey," Dean said with enough sarcasm to cover how the joking words actually made his stomach flip.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel answered simply. "I'm going to buy the other items now. I will return shortly."

Then he hung up.

Dean lay back again, checked to make sure Sam was still sleeping peacefully and shut his eyes. He drifted lightly, nearly falling into a deeper sleep, but managed to stay alert enough to wake if Sam needed him. Strange how that habit returned so quickly. Not that Dean ever slept that deeply, but it'd been years since Dean knew he'd have to wake up when Sam did because Sam couldn't take care of himself.

"Dean?"

When he looked over, Dean saw Sam rubbing at his eyes with the backs of his hands. He sat up and his giant shirt fell around his waist in a pile. Dean tried and failed not to think words like 'cute' and 'adorable.' Between this and posing as Castiel's wife, Dean wasn't going to survive this ordeal with his masculinity intact.

"Where Cas go?" Sam asked as he peered around the motel room. His face abruptly filled with fear. "Did he go home?"

Sam sounded so traumatized about the idea of Castiel leaving them that Dean couldn't help sitting up and pulling Sam into his lap.

"No, no, he's just gone out to get you some stuff, ok? He's going to be back soon," Dean promised him as he brushed Sam's hair off his forehead. Tension drained out of Sam's body, leaving him a trembling mess against Dean's chest. He knew Sam cared about Castiel, but he had to admit, he was a little taken aback by this reaction.

"You ok, little man?" Dean asked Sam a moment later when he didn't hear anymore weird snuffling sounds out of him.

Sam nodded into Dean's collarbone and chose not to answer.

That's when Castiel appeared in the motel room, a collection of bags cluttered around his feet.

"I don't like shopping," Castiel announced.

"Cas!" Sam struggled in Dean's arms, so Dean deposited him in the floor and watched in fascination as Sam made a beeline for Castiel's legs and threw his arms around them, hugging him hard. Castiel managed to keep his balance, but the brief glance he gave Dean was panicked nonetheless.

"Hello, Sam," Castiel said.

Nothing in Dean's life had ever been as hilarious as the sight of his tiny naked brother hugging the stuffing out of a terrified Castiel. But they were in this together, so instead of rightfully laughing his ass off at Castiel, Dean pried Sam away from him.

"C'mon, dude, we seriously got to get you some clothes on," Dean said.

"I should go," Castiel said.

"What? Why?" So much for being in this together. Dean should have let Cas deal with grabby little kids on his own.

"We need to find that demon," Castiel explained, eyeing Sam with a trace of consternation. Obviously he didn't have experience with the innocent effusiveness of children. "He might be able to tell us more about this curse and how to lift it. And if he can't, he still needs to be destroyed."

He had a point. Dean knew he had a point. But Dean couldn't leave Sam and he hated the idea of Castiel out there by himself without their help. Castiel apparently sensed Dean's silent struggle because his expression softened and he lightly touched Dean's arm.

"With my powers fully restored, the demon won't be able to hurt me," Castiel assured him and even though Dean knew it was true, he couldn't help remembering how Alastair had nearly killed him all those years ago. Sure, Alastair was far more powerful than Alain, but still. Now Dean was going to worry as much about Castiel as he would have about leaving Sam.

But if they let the demon go free, he'd inevitably kill another person.

"Just be careful," Dean said thickly.

"I will," Castiel promised. He glanced down at Sam’s frowning face. “I’ll be back shortly,” he told Sam and then disappeared without another word.

Sam looked up at Dean and shrugged.

"That's easy for you to say," Dean mumbled.

Castiel didn't return for almost two hours. Dean nearly called him twenty-three times, but held off in case Castiel was actually with the demon and couldn't afford a distraction. He managed to get Sam cleaned up, dressed in a pair of green corduroy overalls and matching shirt and fed a reasonably healthy dinner of chicken and mashed potatoes from a local diner. He also experienced the joy of finding out that Sam was still potty trained. Dean didn't pray much, but he still thanked God for that.

Sam was playing with the toy train Castiel picked out for him at the mall and Dean was mindlessly watching a re-run of Dr. Sexy, M.D. when Cas showed his face.

"Dude, how long does it take to kill a demon?" Dean spat out as soon as Cas appeared.

"It took very little time to kill him," Castiel said. He bent down to receive another hug from Sam. "But it took some time to find and question him."

"What'd he say?"

"He knew nothing of their magic," Castiel said grimly, sitting in a chair beside the room's one table. "He only knew they'd agreed to help conceal his presence from the angels in exchange for human victims. Since the witches are dead, I could sense his presence today when I drew near him."

"Damn," Dean said softly, eyes trailing back to where Sam was busy crashing his train into the wall and giggling quietly to himself. "What the hell are we going to do, Cas?"

"We'll keep searching for an answer. Sam won't stay this way forever," Castiel said with such certainty that Dean felt his own flagging confidence perk up. "Did he like the clothes I brought him?"

Castiel really had come long way in understanding humans, Dean thought to himself as he smiled lightly at Castiel's obvious change of subject. He wasn't really becoming more human, especially since he recharged with Grace every night. But he was getting better at reading them. Or at least reading Dean since he still kinda sucked at talking to strangers.

"Yeah, I think he cares more about the toys," Dean said. They watched Sam drag the train across the floor, stopping it every few seconds to let imaginary passengers get on while bellowing 'all aboard' as loud as he could.

The rest of the night went by quietly. Dean and Castiel gathered in front of Dean's laptop, researching witches and curses, but couldn't find anything useful. A library was necessary and Dean knew that was going to be a barrel of laughs with a little kid, but still, necessary.

Sam occasionally interrupted them to ask for something to drink or to ask for hugs. He'd never been this clingy as a child, but maybe some of his years of experience were still present in his make-up. If all the shit they'd gone through was running through Sammy's little heart, he probably needed the hugs.

Bedtime was a problem. Sam didn't want to go to sleep, even though he was yawning and leaning heavily against Dean's leg. Now this was something Sam had always done. He'd always been afraid if he went to sleep that Dean or John would do or say something really interesting and he'd miss it. Dean assumed he felt the same fear now. He tried joking that Castiel was really boring, but that only earned him a pout from Sam and an offended glare from Castiel. In the end, Dean was forced to promise Sam he would go to bed too. Not a hardship really since Dean was pretty exhausted, but it meant Castiel had to leave and that, Dean didn't want.

It turned out, neither did Sam. When Castiel stood up and bid them goodnight, Sam lost it. He burst into tears and tugged at the edge of Castiel's coat, not talking, but staining the edge of the coat dark with snot and tears.

"Sam!" Once again, Dean found himself wrenching Sam away from a bewildered Castiel. "Calm down, Sammy. He goes home every night, remember? He'll be back."

But Sam was having none of it. He shook his head, choking on a sob. "No. Daddy and-" Hiccup. "Mommy went away."

Dean's heart twisted in his chest. He hadn't been sure until that moment if Sam remembered events from after his third year or not. Obviously, he did, but couldn't deal with the sorrow of an adult very well in his child's mind. All he knew was that a trusted adult was leaving them and he was scared. Dean didn't know what to do.

"It's not the same," Dean said, shooting Castiel a helpless look. "He really will come back. Remember he came back from hunting the demon?"

"Sam," Castiel said, stepping into Dean's space and to Dean's surprise, tugging Sam out of his arms. "I will always return to you and Dean. Nothing on Earth or in Heaven could prevent me."

And maybe he was saying it to reassure Sam, but for some reason, Dean felt a hard knot in his chest loosen at Castiel’s words.

"But if it would make you feel better, I'll stay," Castiel said.

"Yeah?" Sammy asked tiredly and Dean remembered belatedly that sleepy kids tend to cry more. This probably wasn’t a good time to try and reason with him anyway.

"Of course. But you must promise me you will go straight to sleep," Castiel said in a gentle tone that was another surprise. Maybe Dean had been right about Cas being pretty okay at the emotional support stuff. Sam nodded and rested his forehead on Castiel's shoulder. Castiel smiled over Sam's head at Dean and something warm flooded the area where the hard knot had been.

"Time for bed," he said softly to Dean.

"Yeah, ok," Dean said, dazed and feeling exposed again.

Together they got Sam into the dinosaur pajamas Elle had chosen, although there was an interruption for tickling that had Sam screaming with mirth and Castiel mystified. Then they settled Sam under the blankets. Dean left Castiel to deal with Sam's last second request for a cup of water while he changed into his own sleep clothes in the bathroom. When he got out, Castiel was taking the paper cup from Sam.

"Dean? Sleepin' with me?" Sam asked as Dean crossed the room.

"Yeah," Dean said. When he got under the blankets, Sam pressed against his side and looked over his shoulder.

"Cas?"

Castiel looked up from the People magazine he'd been staring at in confusion. His eyebrows rose. "Yes?"

"C'mon, bedtime," Sam said insistently. A flash of something Dean couldn't read flickered through Castiel's eyes and was gone in an instant. Dean considered telling him he didn't have to join them, that Sam would fall asleep in mere minutes, but before he could, Castiel set the magazine aside and stood, removing his coat.

"Very well," he said.

Now it was Dean's turn to panic. Feeling warm at promises that Castiel would always stay and daydreaming about having a house together was all well and good, but now Castiel was toeing off his shoes and lifting the edge of the blanket. Sliding into the bed with Dean and Sam like he belonged there and when Sam curled his hand around Castiel's sleeve and fell asleep, Dean realized with a jolt that he did. He belonged with them right there, warm and safe on a cold night in December.

"Dean?" Castiel voice carried soft in the darkened room. "Are you alright?"

Dean could make out the light from the motel sign outside catching in Castiel's eyes.

"Yeah, I'm good," he said.

Looping an arm around Sam's waist, his hand close enough to touch Castiel’s stomach, Dean relaxed into the pillow and fell asleep faster than he had in ages.

**********

The next few days were uneventful by hunters' standards. Just library research, some phone calls to colleagues for information and nights spent in the motel eating take-out and watching TV.

By any other humans' standards, they were an adventure in chaos.

Dean had been afraid Sam would create a scene in the library by screaming and running through the stacks. He'd been worried Sam would be bored and whine while they did their research.

He was so very wrong.

Sam loved the library.

His eyes became round as saucers when they walked through the front door and saw a giant cut-out of Clifford the Big Red Dog fronting the children's section. Dean hadn't thought of those books in ages, but now faced with Sam's trembling excitement, Dean remembered how much Sam loved them. He refused to be led away from the picture, so Dean and Castiel agreed to split the workload. Dean took Sam into the children's section and read him a bunch of Clifford books while Castiel did research on local unexplained phenomena that might be connected to the witches.

Eventually, even Sam grew tired of Clifford, so Dean went to check on Castiel's progress. At which point, Dean and Castiel became so engrossed in discussing a series of deaths related to rapid aging that they lost track of Sam. Only for a moment, but long enough for Sam to disappear. Once Dean realized Sam was gone, panic gripped his mind as he jogged up and down the aisles, berating himself for losing track of Sam and cursing the stupid sigils Cas put on their ribs a few years back.

It was Castiel who found Sam tucked away in an alcove not ten feet from where they'd been researching, looking at a book of maps. Dean was so light-headed with relief, he had to collapse in a nearby chair. He didn't let Sam out of his reach for the rest of the day, which was surprisingly alright with Sam, who reveled in the attention.

It wasn't until that night when Sam was snoring lightly between Dean and Castiel that Dean felt truly relaxed. He didn't understand how his father had dealt with caring for two kids in this big scary world. How he could handle leaving them alone for any length of time. It was unimaginable.

The next day, Dean sent Castiel back to the library and he stayed at the motel room with Sam. It worked pretty well until early afternoon after Sam's nap when it became apparent they were both bored out of their skulls. All the shows on TV were too risqué for a three year-old, even one that was technically twenty-eight and Dean had read the stupid People magazine twice already.

He decided it was worth the risk to wander out, so he dressed Sam as warmly as possible and carried him down the street to the local movie theatre. Luckily for him, there was a kiddie cartoon showing, something about dogs that Dean figured would be short enough to keep Sam's attention. Which it did. Very well in fact. Especially the part where one of the animated dogs was hit by a car and even though it was obvious he'd be okay, Sam started wailing right there in the theatre. Dean eventually had to drag him out into the lobby and sit on a cushy bench to rock the tears out of him.

And there still wasn't any good information from Castiel when they got back.

They both stayed in the next day and just made a bunch of phone calls. That was actually sort of a fun day because whenever Sam got bored, Castiel would do something weird with his mojo to make Sam laugh. Things like make tiny lights dance around the room like fireflies or pick Sam up and turn him upside without touching him or produce glowing pictures in the air that matched the music playing on Dean's laptop. Things that made Dean feel a bit of wonder himself. He'd never seen Castiel use his angel powers for anything frivolous or beautiful. He didn't know Castiel was creative.

After they all got into bed that night, when Dean confessed to Castiel that he couldn't sleep, Cas filled the ceiling with what looked like very real stars. Dean lost himself in watching them wink and sparkle and didn't realize he'd fallen asleep until he woke up the next morning.

That was when they got their first real breakthrough since Sam became a three year-old.

Castiel had already gone and returned with breakfast by the time Dean had woken up and trudged into the bathroom. When he got out of the shower and walked back into the main room, drawn to the smell of eggs and pancakes, Sam was still a small lump curled in the middle of the bed until the blankets.

"Wake up, Sammy," Dean called to him as he served himself the friggin' awesome breakfast his friggin' awesome angel had brought him. "Dude, you're awesome," Dean told Castiel, who beamed at him. It made Dean want to keep looking at Castiel's face and so he did. Until he realized what he was doing and quickly looked away, towards the bed where Sam was finally stirring.

"I'm going to eat it all," Dean warned Sam, partly because he wanted to say something unrelated to staring at Castiel over the breakfast table. "It's really…"

Dean trailed off when Sam finally sat up and yawned.

"Sam?"

The disbelief in Dean's voice made Castiel's eyes snap to the bed and they both stared in shock as Sam threw off the blanket. His pajamas pants were now several inches too short and his shirt rode up his middle, exposing his belly.

He wasn't three anymore.

Somehow, in the middle of the night, Sam had aged at least two years. Instead of the mostly uncoordinated movements he'd used the previous day, Sam now climbed off the bed with relative ease and frowned down at himself.

"Dean?" he asked, confused. "What's goin' on?"

"I have no idea." Dean turned to Castiel. "Cas?"

Castiel peered at Sam, eyes slitted, expression intense. Looking below the surface. Dean waited impatiently for the verdict. He didn't expect Castiel to chuckle.

"It's leaving," he said with a relieved smile. "The power. It's fading."

It took Dean a moment to process what this meant and when he did, he snorted. "You're telling me we just wasted three days researching, aren't you."

"We couldn't have known," Castiel said reasonably.

"Great, now we're going to have to go shopping again," Dean said because it was easier to bitch than cry at his relief that they might get through this alright. "And none of this Baby Gap shit anymore. From now on, we shop at thrift stores."

Which was exactly what he did. Now that Castiel had a little more practice with children, Dean felt almost comfortable leaving him with Sam while he bought enough clothes to match Sam's various growth spurts. Just a couple of outfits for each stage because it looked like Sam would grow every three or so days. So it'd only be a few weeks until Sam could fit into his real clothes again. He called Bobby while he was checking out and was told in no uncertain terms that they were to bring themselves to South Dakota as soon as they were certain Sam was out of danger.

When he got back with Sammy's new clothes, Castiel and Sam were sitting cross-legged on the floor. Castiel was telling Sam a story that sounded suspiciously like a Bible story, but he was making it really accessible for a little kid. He even had some sound effects like a whooshing noise when one of the characters cast fishing nets into the ocean. Sam made Dean join them and refused to dress himself until Castiel finished telling the story.

"You're like C-3PO," Dean informed him while he struggled to get Sam into a pair of blue jeans and a turtle neck.

"I don't know what that means," Castiel said. He caught one of Sam's flailing arms and expertly pulled it through the sleeve.

"You know, he was all uptight, but it turned out, he could tell a badass story," Dean said absently as he tugged on the collar. "If we were captured by Ewoks, you could make them think you were their god."

"I would never pretend to be God," Castiel said, offended by the notion.

"Yeah, that's what Threepio said,” Dean said. Sam's head finally popped through the shirt opening, causing his hair to stand out in a static-filled halo. "But he did it for Luke and Han and everyone. You'd do it to save our lives," he said confidently.

"I suppose," Castiel said. When Dean raised an eyebrow at him, he added, "Yes, of course, but I would be very uncomfortable."

"I'm telling you," Dean said. "You're Threepio."

"Do you…is Threepio an interesting character?" Castiel asked, too casual.

"Um," Dean said.

"Threepio is really annoying," Sam said helpfully.

Castiel scowled at Dean and stood up. "I must return home for a time. I'll be back shortly," he said to Sam and then disappeared.

"Thanks a lot, Sam," Dean muttered.

"What?" Sam's expression was so honestly confused that Dean didn’t have it in him to scold the kid.

"Nothing. Never mind."

They spent the morning watching cartoons and playing a bunch of age appropriate knowledge games Dean found on the internet when Sam got tired of Scooby-Doo. He couldn't tell if Sam remembered how to use computers or if he just learned quickly, but he aced those games one right after the other. Dean suspected Sam just learned that quickly. His mind and skill levels seemed to be in line with his body's age. Dean always knew the kid was too smart for his own good, but watching Sam solve problems for kids three and four years older than him helped drive the point home. His pride was almost enough to make Dean forget how upset Cas looked when he left.

Castiel’s face was expressionless when he returned just as Dean and Sam were sitting down to lunch. Before he could say anything, Dean jumped out of his seat to face him.

"You're not annoying," Dean blurted.

Castiel gave no visible reaction.

"Yeah, Threepio is annoying, but you know, they kept him around anyway," Dean said. Which helped in no way and in fact made things worse because Castiel's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"That's not what I meant," Dean said hurriedly. "I meant you're not really like him. I mean, yeah, he didn't want to trick the Ewoks, but it was because of his programming and you wouldn't trick people, I don't know, because you're an angel and anyway, Threepio would never make stars for someone," he finished, feeling like a total idiot.

That is, until he noticed a smile quivering at the corner of Castiel’s mouth, just out of reach.

"I see," Castiel said, his body relaxing and instead of feeling like an idiot, Dean felt proud again, only this time for himself. Which reminded him of Sam's accomplishments and so he spent the entire lunch telling Castiel about all the clever and amazing things Sam had figured out all by himself.

After some discussion, Dean and Castiel decided they would wait until Sam was 11 or 12 till they made the lengthy car trip to South Dakota. Not only because that was a good age for Sam to keep himself entertained in the backseat, but because it would put them at Bobby's the night before Christmas. Bobby didn't usually do much for Christmas, but Dean thought this would be a good year to do the whole tree and decorations thing. They so rarely got to have that when they were children. Now that Sam was one again, Dean decided they might as well make up for it while they had the chance.

But first they had to get through the next week and a half or in Sam's case, the next seven years.

His time as a five year-old went by in much the same manner as his time as a three year-old. For the most part, they just stayed in the motel room and played together. At one point, Sammy declared that he wanted to tell a story and he made Dean and Castiel sit cross-legged on the bed across from him as he spun his tale. It took a few moments of false starts and strange sidebars before Dean realized Sam was telling them about the time they got stuck in Gabriel's magical TV world.

"Then they was back to normal and it turned out he wasn't a tricker, but he was an angel!" Sam revealed, hands thrown to either side to emphasize his point. Dean let his lips part in an appropriate amount of surprise and when Castiel didn't, he elbowed him and nodded meaningfully at Sam.

"Oh," Castiel said and then he covered his mouth. Sam glowed with happiness.

"They was angry at him," Sam said with a hell of a lot of dramatic flair for a five year old. "But Dean was maddest 'cause the tricker took Cas away and Dean loves Cas very much."

Dean flushed red and tried not to look at Castiel. Fucking kids and the fucking words coming out of their mouths.

"So he said the tricker had to bring him back or they was going to pound him," Sam continued, oblivious to Dean's sudden discomfort. "Then he came back. Where'd you go anyway?" Sam asked, finally breaking his style of telling the story as if it had happened to someone else. Dean chanced looking at Castiel. He was curious about that himself.

"Away from you," Castiel answered. "I was very happy to be back."

Sam seemed satisfied with the answer, but Dean found himself gazing at Castiel, remembering how he'd been beaten up and bloody when he found his way back to their side. All that pain and grief he'd gone through for their sake and he never complained. He just kept returning to Dean's side. Castiel must have felt Dean's eyes on his face because he looked to him and once again, they were staring at each other.

"I'm hungry," Sam said, interrupting their moment. Dean didn't know if he felt relieved or not.

The only time that wasn't fun came when they were having dinner at Pizza Hut one night. They had one of those stupid machines with the claw thing that supposedly grabbed toys. Halfway through the meal, Sam decided he had to have a toy.

"Dean, can I have some quarters?"

"What for?" Dean asked, distracted by the way Castiel was trying to separate the cheese on his slice of pizza from the cheese in his mouth.

"I wanna toy!" Sam bounced lightly in his seat and pointed to the machine. Dean followed his hand and grimaced when he saw it.

"No way, man. Those things are a rip-off," Dean said. Sam frowned at him.

"I wanna try it," he said again slowly, as if Dean had just misunderstood him.

"Too bad," Dean said sternly. "I'm not giving you any money for it."

Sam crossed his arms over his chest and worked up a really first-rate version of the bitch-face. "You're mean," he said in scathing tones. It secretly made Dean want to laugh, especially when he considered recalling this event once Sam was back to his old self, but he managed to keep his amusement off his face.

"That's what they tell me," Dean said. It was their dad’s typical answer whenever Sam told John the same thing when he really was five.

To his surprise, Sam obviously remembered that too.

"You're not Daddy," Sam said, glaring and rigid in his seat.

"Well, Dad wouldn't let you have it either," Dean reminded him because it was true. John Winchester hated wasting money and crappy plastic toys you couldn’t even capture were definitely a waste of money. Sam didn't like that either. He huffed and turned away from them, pouting and ignoring his food. Dean ignored him ignoring his food in favor of discussing with the Castiel the basketball game playing on the TV bolted high on the wall. When he noticed Sam was shooting him spiteful glances and still refusing to eat, he sighed.

"Finish your dinner, Sam," Dean said. He knew this wasn't about the stupid toy. Sam never liked being told what he could and couldn't do. It was hard enough making him do things when they both lived under John's rules. Now that Sam probably remembered he could do whatever he wanted, it was even more difficult to make him see reason.

"I don't like it. It's gross," Sam declared. "You can't make me."

Dean rolled his eyes. He intended let it go and have Sam's lesson be learned when he was hungry that night, but to his surprise, Castiel spoke up.

"Stop being disrespectful and eat your food, Sam," Castiel said so firmly that Dean felt the urge to obey the order himself. Sam's mouth fell open and he stared at him.

"Cas?"

"Dean has taken very good care of you and he deserves your respect," Castiel said. Dean didn't know how Sam hadn’t wilted under the intensity of his gaze. "You don't need that toy. Now eat your food or we will go back to the motel and you will go to bed early."

Now Dean was staring at him. Castiel had effectively threatened to send Sam to his room and he'd done it with such calm command. It was…well, it was just like a real parent.

"Okay," Sam murmured, eyes down as he reached for his small slice of pizza. Castiel caught Dean's eyes and tilted his head in a silent question.

"Nothing," Dean said with awe. "Just…that was kinda awesome."

He couldn't be sure, but he thought Castiel preened slightly at the praise.

Whatever anger Sam had at them was erased later that night when Castiel rewarded him for finishing his meal by lifting him into the air and flying him across the room. Dean nearly had a few heart attacks, but it was worth it to see the expression of joyful glee in Sammy's eyes.

By the next day's noon, Sam had grown into his seven year-old clothes.

"This is freaking me out," Dean commented as he bagged Sam's five year-old clothes for St. Vincent De Paul. "I thought you grew like a weed the first time around."

Sam shrugged. "It doesn’t hurt, at least," he said, which made Dean glad. The rapid growth could have caused Sam pain, but instead, he reported feeling only heavy warmth flooding his chest and limbs when he lost power and his body grew. "Can we go to the library today?"

Not Dean's favorite pastime, but he agreed anyway and they set off. Sam disappeared into the young readers' section while Dean grabbed a bunch of car magazines and settled at one of the empty tables. Actually, it was kind of nice to just relax and catch up on a hobby. Sam joined him awhile later with a foot high stack of books. He set it aside and selected the top one to read. It was quiet and comfortable. Castiel found them there after he returned from visiting his brothers. He chose a book on the history of West Virginia that interested him for unknown reasons and the three of them read silently for nearly an hour.

That was when Dean noticed the pretty brunette eyeing him.

She was standing down a nearby aisle with a book in her hand, but her face was turned towards their table and when Dean saw her, she gave him a sultry smile. Oddly enough, his first reaction was merely faint surprise. He never really thought of the library as a good place to pick up girls. But the way the woman was batting her eyes at him seemed to prove him wrong.

Still, it was hard to drudge up the interest. Sure, she was gorgeous and curvy and all good things Dean liked. But he couldn't bring a girl home while Sam was a kid. Not when it would mess up their pattern of sleeping all three curled up in the same bed, a pattern Dean feared would soon end.

"What are you looking at?" Sam whispered, ever the well-behaved library patron.

"Hot chick down there checking me out," Dean said, nodding in her direction. "Hey, you want to pretend to be my kid and go over there with me? Women love single dads."

It was just a stupid joke and Dean didn't mean it anyway. But apparently Sam took him very seriously and did not like what he heard. His eyebrows drew together to form a dark worried line across his forehead and his face filled with distress.

"You can't," he hissed.

"Why not?" Dean asked, honestly confused.

Sam's eyes flickered to Castiel, who was watching with a cheerless expression. "Because you just can't, Dean," Sam stated with absolute conviction. Dean looked to Castiel, but all he got was an unconvincing smile.

"I can watch him if you like," Castiel offered. Something very like guilt curled Dean's insides and he hadn't even done anything. It was just the thought of Castiel babysitting while Dean went out with some random chick shamed him. He couldn't believe Castiel even said it.

"I wouldn't do that," Dean said heatedly, angry without knowing why. "I'm not like that," he added and maybe that was a hint. He didn't like Castiel or Sam thinking he'd just leave them for someone else, even for a night.

"Okay, good," Sam said with heartfelt relief. Castiel said nothing and when Dean didn't either, Sam noticed the tension between them. He slipped out of his seat. "I'm going to the bathroom."

After he was gone, Dean leaned forward and glared at Castiel.

"You're not my slave, you know," Dean said. "I told you before, I can't do this alone. I'm not going to turn around and make you do it alone."

"I thought you might be uncomfortable with what Sam was implying," Castiel said and his hand flickered in an aborted movement, as if he wanted to fidget, but realized at the last minute that angels don't do that sort of thing.

"I am," Dean snapped. "I wouldn't leave you guys."

Castiel frowned. "That's not what I meant," he said.

"Then what?"

"I think Sam thinks of us…we're like parents to him," Castiel said. He sounded uncertain, like he always did when he wasn't sure if he had something human figured out or not. "I think he's afraid of losing a certain amount of stability if you were to spend time with someone else."

"Stability," Dean said blankly.

"That if you were with someone else, it would…it would break apart our family unit," Castiel explained, unable to meet Dean’s eyes.

Dean suddenly got it.

"Oh," he said stupidly.

In other words, Sam didn't want Dean and Castiel to get divorced.

Like they were really married. Dean swallowed hard and tried to suppress the shot of uncharacteristic pleasure the idea gave him. He'd never given marriage much thought because he never expected to live long enough to have one. And he certainly didn't expect to be contemplating one with his very own personal angel.

But wasn't that what they'd been doing this whole time? Playing house and raising a kid? Dean didn't know if marriage felt the same way. He just knew he enjoyed it and he didn't like the idea of ending it anymore than Sam did.

"I'm back," Sam announced a moment later. He studied them both. "Did you make up?"

"We were never fighting," Castiel said.

"Oh okay. I just didn't want you to get mad 'cause Dean's a jerk. He wouldn't cheat though," Sam said in a reassuring tone as if he expected Castiel to be worried about it. Dean jerked back in surprise.

"Sam…what exactly do you think is going on between me and Cas?"

Sam frowned at him, then looked to Castiel for help. When none arrived, he shrugged and sat down again.

"Um, I don't know," Sam said. "You're together, I guess. Are you married?" he asked curiously.

Holy crap, it was worse than Dean thought.

"No, we're not married. Sam, we're not even dating," Dean said, flabbergasted. "Why'd you think that?"

"You're not?" The distress Sam felt earlier began to flood back into his expression. "But you sleep together," he spluttered. "You love each other. Why not? Why aren't you together?" he demanded.

Dean's mouth opened and closed a few times. He could give any number of answers. I'm not gay. Cas doesn't feel that way about me. I don't want to settle down. We're not allowed.

But he couldn't say any of them because he wasn't sure if they were true or not. He wasn't sure hewanted them to be true and as he sat there, staring at Sam, he realized his only answer to that question was I don't know.

"You'll understand when you get older," Castiel said. He probably didn't mean to echo the age-old excuse children had hated for generations, but it still made Dean laugh. Which was good because the tension had grown so thick around him, he could hardly breathe through it. Sam scowled at Cas and turned back to his book. He, in particular, had always loathed that phrase.

No one mentioned Dean and Castiel's relationship or lack thereof again for several days. Sometimes Dean caught Sam watching them closely as they sat talking and at night, after they climbed into bed, Sam threaded his arms through both of theirs and tugged hard, forcing them to crowd closer to each other. But he didn't say anything and age seven passed without further incident.

Nine year-old Sam wasn't so easy to deal with.

It started the first morning after Sam grew again. Sometime during the night, Sam crawled out from between them in bed and when he returned, he climbed onto Castiel's other side so that Castiel was now in the middle of Sam and Dean.

Dean woke up pressed lengthwise against Castiel, his face against Castiel's neck and his arms around Castiel's waist. The strangeness of that position didn’t hit Dean for far too long. All that mattered was that he was being held close against a warm solid body and he felt utterly safe and comfortable. He couldn't remember the last time he actually felt protected or if he ever had since his mom died, but that was exactly how he felt then.

Until he finally shook off his sleep-fog enough to remember the only person he could possibly be laying on was Castiel.

Dean tore himself out of Castiel's arms and flailed backwards, his heart pounding against his ribcage. Terrible cold struck his body and his first impulse was to instantly return to Castiel's embrace, but Castiel was watching him carefully and then Dean remembered that angels don't sleep. Which meant Castiel had lain awake for hours with Dean cradled in his arms.

"Um…what?" Dean stuttered. "What?"

"We…seem to have shifted during the night," Castiel said with astonishing diplomacy.

"But I was…" He gestured helplessly between them to indicate their previous arrangement. Even though they'd been sleeping together for nearly a week, this was different. They'd always had Sam between them as a barrier and an excuse.

"Yes," Castiel said in measured tones. "I wasn't sure what you wanted me to do," he confessed. "You seemed very determined to insinuate yourself into my space."

Heat erupted across Dean's face and raced down his body. Great, he'd molested an angel in his sleep and that angel was too cautious or too dumb to force him away. It was worse than embarrassment because his humiliation came on the heels of such sweet security.

"You should've pushed me off," Dean mumbled, looking down at the blanket covering the morning erection he'd just noticed. The humiliation grew as Dean realized he'd probably rubbed himself on Castiel in his sleep.

"I didn't mind," Castiel said so softly that Dean couldn't help looking up to see his face. But Castiel was looking away too. He was smoothing down the wrinkled edges of his white dress shirt. Dean had probably clutched the material in his fingers during the night. Castiel needed actual pajamas, Dean thought distractedly. If they were going to keep sleeping together.

Dean shook himself. Sleeping together anymore wasn't a good idea. Not if Sam didn't need them and besides, he was getting too big for all three of them to fit in one bed.

"Well, sorry about that anyway," Dean said gruffly. He desperately wanted to get up and escape into the bathroom, but he also didn't want Castiel to see the physical evidence of what having him close did to Dean. They sat together in awkward silence. Dean noticed Sam was nowhere to be found. The little brat had set them up and then fled the scene of the crime.

"I should go," Castiel finally said. Dean tried not to wince, but didn't quite manage it. They’d gotten all the stress of a morning after and none of the pleasure.

Well, not none, Dean thought as he watched Castiel climb out from under the covers, taking most of the bed's comfortable warmth with him.

"We'll see you later, right?" He had to check, just to make sure. Castiel's perplexed expression went a long way towards calming Dean's nerves.

"Yes, of course," he said. The 'duh' was implied. Dean almost defended himself because it wasn't like he had a guide on dealing with accidental angelic cuddling, but Castiel disappeared on him before he could say anything, which was totally an unfair advantage. One of the downsides of a relationship with an angel.

Not that they were in a relationship.

"Sam!" Dean yelled. "Get your scrawny ass out here!"

The bathroom door creaked open and Sam stepped out wearing an eager smile that quickly faded when he saw Castiel had gone. His hands curled into fists and he planted them on his hips, glaring at Dean.

"What didja do to Cas?" Sam asked in an accusing tone.

Dean didn't bother answering. Instead, he flopped on his back and stared at the ceiling. Just what Dean needed.

Sam Winchester, tiny Yenta extraordinaire.

When Castiel joined them for lunch and had a normal argument with Dean about the benefits of alcohol, Dean thought they would be alright. They could just pretend everything was normal and once Sam grew up fully, everything would be normal. They'd carry on hunting and sleeping in their own beds and everything would be just fine.

Dean really believed it.

Which was pretty stupid of him.

Sam's second plan of attack took shape that same night. When dinnertime rolled around, Sam begged Dean to let him choose where they ate. Since they always ate the same crap anyway, Dean agreed without complaint. It wasn't until after they climbed into the Impala and Sam guided Dean towards the fancier section of town that Dean began to suspect something was up. Sam must have done some internet research because he knew exactly where he wanted to go and Dean found himself pulling into the parking lot of an expensive Italian restaurant.

"What is this, Sammy?" Dean asked warily.

"Bella Notte," Sam said, pointing to the sign.

"Yeah, I got that, but this place looks kinda pricey," he said, keeping his tone neutral. He didn't want to crush Sam's obvious happiness just yet. After all, it wasn't like they didn't deserve a nice meal out every now and then.

"Please, Dean?" Sam asked and even though his pleading look was totally obvious, Dean felt his objections dwindling. "It'll be fun and besides, we got the money."

Dean sighed. "Fine. You win." As if there was ever any doubt. It was almost completely impossible for Dean to say no to the kid. No matter how old he was.

"Yes!" Sam pumped his fist and jumped out the car, running towards the entrance.

They actually had to wait to be seated. Dean couldn't remember the last time he had to wait at a restaurant. The concept of paying extra to wait longer gave him heartburn, but Sam shone with such excitement that Dean kept his trap shut. There were a couple of cute girls that kept staring over at him with that face girls wear when they think something's adorable, like say a handsome man and his young son.

Dean, however, had learned his lesson. He resolutely ignored them. It was just too bad Castiel wasn't there to see how well Dean ignored them. He'd returned back home for a little while for some kind of meeting or something. Dean wasn't clear on the details beyond the fact that Castiel wasn't with them and that sucked.

Finally, an eternity later, a slim blond waitress led them to their table and handed them menus. Sam talked a mile a minute, babbling to the waitress about how 'awesomely cool' the place was and how Dean was his brother and that he was really hungry for spaghetti. She took it in stride, gracing Sam with an indulgent smile and Dean a flirtatious one before finally escaping with their drink orders.

"What's gotten into you tonight?" Dean asked over the top of his menu. Sam was fairly thrumming with enthusiasm.

"Nothing," he squeaked. Then he jumped up from his chair. "I gotta use the bathroom. I'll be back."

Dean watched him zoom away and shook his head. Seriously, the kid was messed up.

The menu beckoned, so Dean dismissed Sam's insanity and contemplated choosing between lasagna and shrimp alfredo. He'd almost given the edge to lasagna when a familiar shadow fell across the table, snagging his attention from the food.

"Cas?"

As awkward as Dean felt in this fancy ass restaurant, he thought Castiel looked even more out of place with his rumpled trench coat and rigid posture. He stood beside the table, arms stiff as his side, and frowned down at Dean in apparent confusion.

"What are you doing here? I thought you'd gone back home," Dean said.

"Sam called me," Castiel explained, his brow furrowed. "He said you wanted to see me."

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna have to kill him eventually," he muttered to himself. Castiel cocked his head.

"Dean?"

"Nothing. Look, you don't have to stay if you have somewhere you need to be," Dean said. He didn't want Cas to go, not really, but he also didn't want to be struck by lightning for keeping an angel from his brethren for the sake of a snooty Italian dinner.

Castiel looked at the small table with its two chairs. "I don't…my appointment is concluded, but I don't want to interrupt-"

"You’re not," Dean cut him off. "We can just…hold on," he said, standing up to grab and drag another chair to their table. The waitress showed up as he was setting the chair down. "We're three now," he told her.

It felt nice to say it.

Castiel sat in Sam's abandoned seat across from Dean and ordered a lemonade. The waitress was polite, but Dean noticed she didn't bother flirting with him anymore. He tried not to think about it too hard as he complained to Castiel about the prices and the annoyingly screechy opera music playing over the speakers. Castiel listened carefully, but without much sympathy since, as he put it, they weren't spending their own money anyway and besides, Castiel liked opera music. It just figured. They got into a lively argument over it and Dean was enjoying himself so thoroughly, it took the waitress returning for their dinner orders before he noticed that Sam hadn't come back from the bathroom.

"Excuse me, I gotta go scrounge up my scheming brat of a brother," Dean said, shocking the waitress, but earning a fond smile from Castiel.

Dean found Sam sitting on a bench outside the bathroom, swinging his legs and munching on a breadstick he got from who knows where.

"Hey," Sam said with a grin. "Howsit goin'?"

Dean blew out a sigh as he joined Sam on the bench.

"Sam," he started, then paused. He didn't have a guide for this either. Sam was still Sam, but he was just so young. Dean wasn't sure how to explain that his efforts were in vain without hurting his feelings.

"Did Castiel show up?" Sam asked. "Are you having fun?"

"Yeah, he did," Dean said and because it was true, he added, "And yeah, we are. But Sam…you have to stop this."

"Stop what?"

"Trying to set me and Cas up!" Dean exclaimed. "I know you mean well, but it's just making things weird."

Sam tilted his head, accepting this news with calm Dean didn't expect. He didn't seem upset, but rather just puzzled.

"Why?"

Of course. Kids and their questions. Dean drew a deep breath and thought a moment, trying to choose his words with care.

"Because it's not so easy with adults," he said, not bothering to add it was even less easy when one of those adults was actually an angel. "You can't just make two people go on a date and have everything fall into place. It’s way more complicated than that."

"No, it's not," Sam said bluntly.

"Sam-"

"It's not!" Sam hopped up from the bench and turned on Dean, arms folded over his chest. "It's hard for me to remember everything, but I remember you and Castiel. I remember you belong together," he said, growing visibly upset. "I feel it, right here," he said, tapping his chest, his eyes wide and troubled. "You need him and you won't do anything, Dean. I don't remember why, but I think it has to do with me or something. Like you're afraid I won't be happy if you're happy, like we can't be happy at the same time, but it's not true. I'm happy because you're happy or I would be and it is that easy."

"Sam," Dean said weakly, overwhelmed by Sam's sudden passion. Sam’s small hands curled over his shoulders and squeezed.

"Do you love him?" Sam asked very seriously.

"Sure, yeah," Dean said because this question was easy to answer. But Sam wasn't going to let up.

"Are you in love with him?"

"I…" Hell, Dean didn't even know if he understood what that felt like. He’d thought he was in love with Cassie, but it'd been far too easy to let her go. That, at least, was something Castiel had over her. Dean didn't think he could let go now if he tried, but was that really love? Was it love when he felt safe in Castiel's arms or was that just because Castiel could protect him from just about anything? The way Dean thought about Castiel as a partner when Sam was cursed, the way he depended on his support; was that love or just friendship? Dean honestly didn't know.

"Sam, I don't really know what that means," Dean said, feeling suddenly weary.

"I do," Sam said, his forehead wrinkled with deep thought. "I think anyway. I think I had it, Dean, with Jess." Dean swallowed past the lump in his throat. There was something terrible and sad about listening to his nine year-old brother talk about the lost love of his life. "That's how it feels in my head; it's all the same category. Me and Jess. You and Cas. It's all the same."

Dean couldn't answer. His mind was too full to produce words. Sam sat on the bench again and smiled at him, pushing at his arm.

"So go have fun with him," he said. Dean just shook his head and stared at the wall for a long time, trying to process what he was feeling.

"Dean?" Sam asked a moment later. Dean took a great cleansing breath and hooked an arm around Sam's neck, pulling him in without warning and rubbing his knuckles hard into Sam's skull. Sam had the appropriate reaction, which was to shriek like a girl and flail in his arms.

"I'm not to go eat with Cas and leave you by the bathroom," Dean said when he was done torturing Sam. "C'mon."

Sam looked to protest, but their age difference meant Dean was infinitely stronger than him, so he had no choice but to let Dean drag him back to their table. Castiel looked relieved when they appeared again. He never did well alone in public.

"Is everything ok?" he asked, rising to stand when Dean and Sam joined him. Dean smiled. He never thought of Castiel as the gentlemanly type.

"It's fine," Dean assured him.

They finished the rest of the meal together. Sam was the motor mouth Dean remembered, which freed him up to watch Castiel and think about what Sam had said. He'd never had the chance to see Sam with Jess, not really. But he remembered the way Sam looked at her during their one meeting. Like his world started and ended with her. And he remembered the anguish in Sam's scream when he saw her pinned to their bedroom ceiling, fire exploding around her body. Sam had never been the same after that. Even all these years later, even with the other women he'd met and loved, he'd never really gotten over Jess' death.

Dean had lost Castiel once. Or so he'd been told and yet, he’d never believed it. Castiel was an angel. A powerful creature and even though his logic said Castiel was gone, Dean knew he'd never really believed it in his heart.

But then he'd seen a bleak and dreadful future, a place where Dean carried too much grief to feel anything else. The Castiel of that time had lost his family and his faith and yet, still he stayed by Dean's side. Without any hope of love or affection and that hurt.

His eyes snapped to the Castiel of his present and to the tenderness in the smile he was giving an excitedly babbling Sam. That hopeless future was worse than death for Castiel. A far worse fate than he deserved and Dean would do anything to prevent it. Teaming up with Michael had guaranteed Castiel’s return to his brothers. Castiel's own successful hunt for God meant he could keep his faith in his Father. But that was only part of it because now Castiel was back at Dean’s side, yet again without hope of the love and affection he deserved.

Dean really didn't want that future to happen.

It shouldn't have been a significant moment. Sam made Castiel try his spaghetti and as Dean watched Castiel struggle miserably with the noodles, the answer to Sam's question struck him hard in the chest.

Yes, he was in love with Castiel.

God, yes, he was in love with Cas, this brusque irritating angel who smiled without smiling, who lived through his expressive eyes and held Dean close through a sleepless night. Who always listened to everything Dean said, even if he didn't agree and made Dean feel important just by sitting beside him. This amazing being who chose Dean out of all the humans in the world, chose to stay with Dean even if he had to share Dean's heart with Sam and helped Dean save the world and made stars twinkle for him and survived the mall just because Dean needed him.

"Dean?" Castiel raised an eyebrow at Dean. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Dean said, turning away to study his congealing lasagna. Okay, so this was supposed to be a good moment, except sure it was nice to know he was in love with Castiel, but it didn't follow Cas was in love with him back. If Dean hadn't really understood being in love, there was a pretty good chance an angel wouldn't either.

"Are you sure?" Castiel asked worriedly.

Dean met his eyes, saw the concern there and felt his heart squeeze in his chest. Alright, so he couldn't live without this. Not after realizing what he wanted. And if Castiel didn't understand being in love, well, Dean would just have to teach him.

"Oh, I'm sure," he said, his quiet caution exchanged for steely determination.

If the way Dean thoroughly enjoyed how Castiel's eyes widened and his throat moved around a hard swallow was any indication, this 'being in love' thing would be a lot of fun.

*******

Since their plans now happened to coincide, Dean got some unexpected help from Sam that night. When it came time for them to sleep, Sam pulled back the covers of the room's other bed that hadn't been used since the curse.

"I'm going to sleep on this bed tonight," Sam announced to them both. "But I don't want you to go, Cas."

"Alright," Castiel agreed and he sat in a dining chair. "I'll watch over you from here."

"No, don't," Sam protested as he punched his pillow into shape. "You should lie down 'cause I know you think it’s comfortable, but you don't say."

The vaguely guilty look on Castiel's face confirmed Sam's suspicions.

"But there isn't really a place for me," Castiel said, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on Sam.

"Um, there was a whole other free bed yesterday and you still slept with us," Sam reminded him. He snuggled down into the pillow and stretched his legs out, effectively taking up the entire bed. Just in case Castiel got any ideas of sleeping with him, Dean assumed as he bit on his bottom lip to keep from smiling. Had he thought Sam was a scheming brat? The kid was a genius.

"Just sleep with Dean," Sam ordered him drowsily. "Dean doesn't mind."

Castiel still wouldn't look at him, so Dean laid a hand on his shoulder, forcing his gaze upwards. It felt so good and so right to touch Castiel and to hold his gaze. Dean didn't know how he'd misunderstood his feelings for so long.

"I really don't," Dean said gently, quiet enough to stay just between them.

"You don't?" Castiel sounded incredulous, even astounded and it occurred to Dean that Castiel might have read the situation that morning in a completely different way. Instead of feeling trapped by Dean's unconscious advances, maybe Castiel had been embarrassed to be caught enjoying them. Dean certainly hoped so. It'd make things a lot easier.

"Yeah, I think I'm going to have to insist," Dean said boldly, surprising himself. Cas seemed to respond well to the demand because he nodded, a smile playing across his lips and he stood to shrug out of his jacket.

"And you need better pajamas," Dean said. He dug through his bag till he found a pair of extra sleep pants and a t-shirt for Castiel to wear. They took turns changing in the bathroom and Dean waited until Castiel got comfortable on the bed before flipping off the lights. It already felt like a furnace under the blankets when Dean joined Castiel a moment later.

"Dude, what's with the heat? Is it your Grace?"

"I believe so," Castiel answered, turning on his side. "Is it unpleasant?"

"No," Dean said and actually he was having trouble not shifting closer to him. He didn't want to push it. "No, it's nice."

"Good."

Laying in bed with someone and staring at them through the darkness was weird, but what was even weirder was being so relaxed by it that you fell asleep after only a few moments.

When Dean woke up with his body facing towards Sam's bed and Castiel curled up at his back, arms flung around Dean’s waist, it was just more proof that Dean was right about being in love. He liked this just as much as waking up with his face hidden in Castiel's neck. More actually because he wasn't embarrassed this time. Maybe a little freaked out, but happy and relaxed. He slid the tips of his fingers down Castiel's arm till he found Castiel's hand, which he took in his own. Cas stiffened lightly behind him.

"Hey," he said hoarsely, threading their fingers together. "Relax."

Castiel didn't answer in words, but he did release the tension from his body and melted against Dean, pressing one foot between both of Dean's. Now that was good. Surrounded by Castiel, by his arms and his legs and his weird hot Grace. In fact, it was so good it lulled Dean back to sleep and he didn't wake again until he heard Sam cackling at some cartoon and felt nothing at his back. He didn’t mind though because Castiel was just sitting beside Sam and watching the screen with purpose as if he were determined to discover why it was funny.

Dean continued on the slow path over the next few days so he wouldn’t scare Castiel.

The first thing he did was take back his ban on invading personal space. No matter what they were doing, Dean made sure he was never far from Castiel. When they ate, he sat next to Cas. When they watched TV, Dean leaned against Castiel's side. When they walked down the street to the movie theatre, Dean let his hand brush along Castiel's.

Every time Cas felt Dean touch him, Dean swore he saw tiny bursts of joy light in Castiel's eyes. They made Dean all the more confident and when they sat to watch the movie, Dean chanced taking Castiel's hand and holding it like he had while they were in bed. Hand holding had never been Dean's thing, but that's because it was surprisingly intimate. But now he wanted the connection and so when Castiel willingly gave his hand, Dean grinned and lost track of the movie for nearly twenty minutes.

Sam didn't miss this change in Dean and so Dean found himself with a little partner in crime. Sam found every excuse in the book to give Dean and Castiel a few moments alone. He escaped into bathrooms, disappeared to the lobby for towels, wandered off in stores in search of whatever nine year-olds thought they needed.

Dean never actually made a move on Castiel, but he appreciated the extra time alone, the ability to focus solely on Castiel. Castiel seemed to enjoy it too because he kept getting puffed up with some kind of overwhelming satisfaction when they enjoyed Sam's gift of time together.

By the time they were supposed to leave for Bobby's, Dean had Castiel used to the touching. In fact, Castiel looked troubled if Dean didn't take his hand when they were sitting beside each other. It made driving a little difficult, but Castiel asked so little of him, Dean couldn’t refuse.

"Dean, are we going to have Christmas?"

Sam sat in the backseat amid the large collection of toys and books they'd amassed since he became a kid. It was good thing Dean hadn't been solely in charge of raising Sam because he'd have been spoiled rotten.

"Yeah, I thought we'd get a tree and all that," Dean answered, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. "That sound good?"

Sam nodded happily. "What do you want?"

"Me?" Dean flicked his eyes towards Castiel and shrugged. "Nothing really."

"I want a model train," Sam said decidedly. All those years he'd grown in such a short time and that silly train Castiel got him at the mall remained his favorite present.

"Okay," Dean said because that was the kind of gift adult Sam could enjoy too.

"What do you want, Cas?" Sam said, kicking at the back of Castiel's seat.

"Oh," Castiel said, surprised. "I didn't realize I was to be included."

"God, Cas," Sam said in the kind of long-suffering disgust only children can produce. "Do we have to send you an invitation in blood or something? You freaking live with us and you're like married to my brother."

"Hey, be nice," Dean scolded him, though he privately cheered for Sam. Castiel didn't seem to understand that they were all in the same family now, even if he did have two of them. "But yeah, he's got a point. Of course you're included. What do you want?"

"I don't know," Castiel hedged, looking away at the passing fields. "Nothing, I suppose."

Sam kicked the back of his chair again.

"Stop that," Dean said.

They got to Bobby's not a moment too soon. Sam was tired and cranky and Dean was holding on by a thread. Seeing Bobby perked Sam right up though. He stumbled out of the car and flew up onto the porch, throwing himself into Bobby's arms.

"Uncle Bobby!" He exclaimed, unconsciously falling back on their old form of address for Bobby. "Hi!"

"Hey, kid," Bobby said, grunting with the effort of not falling under Sam's onslaught. "My god, boy, I never thought I'd see you like this again."

"I know, it's weird," Sam said, grabbing Bobby's hand and tugging him into the house. "You're a lot taller than normal. Hey, listen to what we've been doing."

Dean walked slower so he didn't have to hear Sam explain to Bobby that he'd been kinda dating Castiel for the last few days. Castiel helped him gather their bags, smiling at him and they didn't need words. That was one of the best parts really. Dean could talk Castiel's ear off, but he didn't have to and that was a relief. They packed all the stuff inside and Dean interrupted Sam's monologue long enough to explain that he and Castiel were going to go 'get Christmas.'

There weren't many decorations or trees available on Christmas Eve. Just a couple of three foot plastic trees that would have to do. The decorations were even less desirable.

"Ugh, what the fuck." Dean picked up a box of those ball ornaments that were a horrendous neon pink. "Why does this exist?"

"I don't know," Castiel said. His attention was caught on a package of shiny white tinsel icicles. "These are lovely."

Dean made a face. "They're messy, Cas. They get everywhere."

"But they are beautiful," Castiel said again, looking to Dean with an expression that was familiar, but out of place on Castiel's face. It took Dean a few moments of trying to decide where he'd seen it before he realized Castiel was giving him the puppy-dog look. The pleading 'please feed me and give me Christmas icicles' look.

It was bad enough when Sam did it. Dean didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell of refusing Castiel.

"Fine, but you clean them up," Dean said, grabbing a couple of packages and tossing them in the cart. Like that would be hard anyway. He could probably mojo them away in seconds. Another unfair advantage. Castiel would never have to do the dishes or take out the trash like normal people.

Thinking about splitting chores with Castiel was weird.

But not bad weird.

They found a box of ornaments that were an inoffensive red and green and a package of lights. At the end of the aisle, there were two more racks, one of stars and the other of angels.

"What'd you think?" Dean asked, smirking. "You want a star or an angel on the tree?"

Castiel glared at him.

"Star it is," Dean said through his laughter.

There was only one toy store open that late and they didn't have a model train, but they had a model ship and Dean figured that was close enough. They picked a bottle of scotch for Bobby before heading back towards his place.

Sam was so excited by the tiny tree that he was beside himself with joy and proceeded to hop around the living room. Dean made a mental note to do this again next year, adulthood or not.

"Here," Dean said, handing Sam a package of the icicles. "Go crazy."

The other package went to Castiel and Dean watched in amusement as Sam flung handfuls of the icicles at the tree while Castiel carefully separated each individual icicle and laid them over the tree's branches. Dean added the ornaments and Bobby made sure the lights were spread evenly. They let Sam finish the thing by placing the star at the top of the tree.

"Well, it's not quite Charlie Brown, but it’s close," Bobby commented when they stood back to admire their work.

"No, it's not," Sam protested heatedly. Dean just shrugged.

"It's very nice," Castiel added.

"Whatever, I want hot chocolate," Sam declared, grabbing Dean's hand and tugging him towards the kitchen. Together, they taught Castiel how to make hot chocolate from scratch. And of course, as Dean told Castiel, the best way to drink hot chocolate on Christmas Eve was while watching A Christmas Carol.

"It's a Christmas movie with ghosts, so of course, it's our favorite," Dean explained to a bemused Castiel.

But Castiel enjoyed it because it featured a heavy emphasis on the 'saving power of love.' Dean snorted and squeezed his hand. Just like an angel.

"Speaking of angel stuff," Dean said once the credits were rolling. Sam was lying sideways on the couch, head in Dean's lap as he snored lightly. Bobby had gone to bed, effectively leaving Dean alone with Castiel. "Are they expecting you or anything? I mean, isn't this your big night?"

Castiel laughed softly and the sound climbed right into Dean's heart. "Angels don't need a particular day to celebrate Christ's birth. Time is an invention for humans."

"Right," Dean said, surprisingly at ease with Castiel's innate otherness. Dean liked that Castiel was different. "Humans need time to remind us to live, I guess."

"Yes," Castiel said thoughtfully. "But angels could do with a reminder as well," he said, reaching over to place his hand over the one Dean had been using to stroke Sam's hair. "I'm afraid I lied earlier. I don't want to lose time. Especially not when we have so little."

Dean's heart leapt.

"Lied?"

"There is something I want for Christmas," Castiel confessed. "I didn't know I wanted it and I don't really know how to have it, but I wanted to say, Dean." He paused and Dean admired the way the Christmas lights colored his skin red and green and gold. "I wanted to tell you that I love you."

"Oh," Dean said, shocked into apparent stupidity. Hearing those words was a lot more overwhelming than he imagined. "Um, me too. Love you, that is."

"That's good. I thought, if you'd like, I thought we'd kiss," Castiel said, businesslike and so very him that Dean's heart skipped a beat or three.

"Yeah, ok," Dean rasped. Castiel brought his free hand to Dean's face, cupped his cheek and gave him an odd friendly smile before pressing his mouth to Dean's. It wasn't much, just a soft touch of lips, but it meant more, so much more than a hundred other nights with other people who weren't his own Castiel.

"Ew, gross."

Dean laughed into the kiss, then broke it off to look down at Sam.

"I thought you wanted us to do this?"

"Not on top of me," Sam grumbled, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes. "You're so sick. I'm going to bed."

They watched Sam stomp out of the room and up the stairs. Castiel started to say something, but Dean held up a finger. He waited a moment more until he heard the door to Sam's guest room slam shut, then he grinned and turned back to Castiel.

"Serves him right," he said happily, pulling Castiel into another and far deeper kiss.

He'd thank Sam later.