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The toddler stumbled happily into the room, struggling a little before managing to get into bed with them; jumping excitedly over the soft, bouncy mattress. Startling them both.
“Daddy! Dada! Wake uuuup!” She squealed, dragging the last word in a long, high pitched sound. Bending down just enough to shake Dean’s shoulders with enthusiasm.
He groaned, “Cas, your daughter is awake.” He then proceeded to hide his face under the pillow, hoping to cast out as much noise as possible.
It was pointless, though, because he still managed to hear Castiel’s grumpy reply, “before sunrise, she’s your daughter.” Dean felt the covers shift and the bed dip further from himself, indicating that Cas had simply given his back to all the chaos.
Oblivious to their exchange, little Jo was still nudging and poking at Dean, trying desperately to get his attention, calling out for him louder every time.
Accepting defeat, Dean removed the pillow from his face, rubbing his palms over his tired eyes. Hell, Cas was right, it was still dark outside, why on earth was Jo awake? Though, the clear singing of blackbirds indicated it wasn’t much left for the sun to come out. Thank god.
He sat up, throwing his legs to the side of the bed, one hand still over his eyes, rubbing them before sliding down over his jaw. He had to shave soon, no matter what Cas said.
Little hands wrapped themselves around his shoulders, making him smile.
“Hi, daddy.” She said softly, kissing his cheek lightly.
“Hey, little one.” Dean greeted her, turning his head just so to give her a tender kiss on her forehead. “What has you up so early?” He asked in between a yawn, smiling wider in amusement when she yawned too.
“I heard the birds! And thought of blackbirds.” She whispered as if the statement made all the sense in the world. But after a moment of I’m Not Following silence and raised eyebrow from Dean, she just sighed dramatically and glared at him -which was all kinds of scary because she was way too young to be giving the stink eye just as Cas-, and said in slow, measured words, “I remembered that song about blackbirds and I wanted to listen to it.”
And really, Dean should have seen it coming. The day before they had gone through Dean’s old tapes and had found one labeled “Beatles” in neat, delicate letters. He had thought it would be a good idea to introduce Jo to good music as soon as possible, making sure she’d have a good taste growing up. After all, Dean was in no way convinced he would tolerate Justin Beiber posters over his daughter’s room, no matter how much he loved her.
So this was the price he had to pay. Every time Jo discovered a song she liked she would listen to it 24/7 for at least three weeks, if they were lucky. Dean was sure he didn’t want to listen to Sweet Child O’ Mine ever again in what was left of his life.
Sighing, he stood up, turning around just in time for Jo to extend her little arms towards him. “Alright, let’s go, flea.” He said as he picked her up, minding the movement as to not disturb Cas any further.
“Why do you call me that?” She asked once she was secure in his arms.
“You don’t like it?” He replied distractedly, watching his steps as he made his way towards the garage. Jo was lucky she decided to make this stunt in the middle of June, otherwise he wouldn’t even consider getting out of bed. But the weather was warm enough to make a trip to the garage bearable at five in the morning.
“I do, but it’s weird.”
He hummed in response as he clicked the switch for the garage door to open. He waited as it did so, cringing a little as the door disturbed the silence that accompanied dawn. Stepping inside and walking the few steps to the car, he set Jo on the hood while he got inside and turned the car on. It purred to life, sending pleasant vibrations all over his body.
He got out to pic up Jo, only to discover that she was sprawled over the hood laughing quietly.
“What’s so funny, flea?” He asked her as he touched her little foot to get her attention.
“It tickles!” She said in between laughs, getting up to reach Dean.
He lifted her and carried her inside, setting her on the passenger seat, leaving his door open and one foot out of the car. He fumbled with the radio and the cassette. The music started to fill the air around them not long afterwards. He decided to let the tape run it’s course, meaning Blackbird wouldn’t start right away, allowing him a bit of time to enjoy her company.
That was the thing with cassette tapes, they could only listen to them in the impala. But Jo seemed to enjoy it a lot, it was the only time she was allowed to sit in the front seat and it thrilled her. She liked to open the drawer in front of her and inspect all of its contains, asking Dean with curious reverence what was each thing, then putting it back in, leaving the drawer in the same state as she found it. After she was done with the drawer, she moved into his lap, struggling to get past the hand brake. She leaned forward, looking at screen behind the steering wheel, pointing at it with her little, chubby hand.
“What do those clocks mean?” She asked, looking back at him over her shoulder to make sure she had his attention.
Dean shifted a bit so he could point at the screen too, he explained her that each ‘clock’ meant something different: the little one, for example, showed how much gas they had left, the big one on the right showed the speed the car was in when they drove (“that’s why it’s at zero right now, we’re not moving”). She listened with rapt attention to very word he said. Nodding once in a while, asking more and more questions, that Dean answered happily.
When he was about to finish his explanation on how to get the car started, Blackbird started playing, earning and eager shriek from Jo, who started jumping excitedly on Dean’s lap. Wincing when her foot stood where it shouldn’t, he lifted her and put her in the passenger seat again. Unfazed by the action, she sang -as loud as she could- the lyrics of the song, swaying from side to side in perfect rhythm, smiling from ear to ear while she looked at him. Dean smiled back at her, leaning back on his chair without taking his eyes off her. He felt so happy right then, not even her loud, high pitched voice could make him feel any less contempt.
The song ended and, sure enough, she demanded to listen to it again. Dean was happy to oblige, pressing the button for the song to get back to the beginning, he saw her jump on her place again.
Then he felt a hand on the back of his head. Surprised, he turned around only to find Cas leaning besides the car, bending a little to look at the both of them with warmth in his eyes. A quiet, small smile dancing on his lips. His hand was now resting where Dean’s shoulder and neck met.
"Did we wake you?" Dean whispered in question, concern in his voice.
Cas shook his head, “I couldn’t go back to sleep.” He murmured back, glancing behind Dean and smiling wider at the sight of their daughter. “She’s having the time of her life.” He commented, looking back at Dean, caressing his chin with his thump. Dean just smiled back t him.
"Yeah, we are" Dean said, including himself in the statement. He titled his head so his cheek was pressed to Cas’s hand. Turning his face a bit to kiss it.
Cas nodded, leaning inside the car to give Dean a light kiss to his lips, “I’m going to make coffee, do you want some?” He asked after he parted, his lips still close enough Dean could feel them over his own. Cas touched his forehead with Dean’s and closed his eyes, bringing up his other hand to cup Dean’s face, kissing him again, slow and deep.
"Yeah." Dean said after Cas moved away to look him in the eye.
Smiling once again, Cas straightened and turned around, slowly walking the few steps to the door, running a hand through his hair and yawning.
Dean watched him go, noticing how low on his hips his pajama pants hung, how tousled his hair was, how he was wearing one of Dean’s shirts again, it being quite large for him, almost exposing one shoulder. A strong wave of warmth and affection washed over him, and it took every ounce of will power for Dean not to run after him.
The song ended and he didn’t even realise, noticing it had changed when Jo’s little arms wrapped around his neck again.
"Dada’s awake." She said, as a matter of fact, resting her chin on Dean’s shoulder.
He nodded, “he is,” lifting his hand to rest over hers, caressing her litre fingers with his thump. He smiled again, this time to no one in particular. He thought of the day ahead of him, and in that moment he couldn’t ask more he had a wonderful family he loved, a family that loved him and made him stupidly happy.
And he was going to spend the rest of his Sunday with them. Life wouldn’t be more perfect than it was.