Work Text:
“So that’s it?” Dean asks incredulously.
They had just spent the last two hours watching a preview screening of the Supernatural finale. Nearly seven years after they’d defeated Chuck and they finally gained free will, the TV show based on his shitty, shitty story was coming to an end. It was the final cut; they didn’t have any chance to make last-minute notes or anything. Sam had convinced Dean that it could be fun to see how someone interpreted Chuck’s stories of their lives. Especially since their lives looked very different from the ending Chuck wanted for them. Dean didn’t know what he expected, but it definitely wasn’t whatever the fuck that was.
The executive in the corner nods, a smile on his face. “Yep. Give the fans what they want. Good, old-fashioned monster hunting with TV’s favorite brothers.”
Sam looks at the executive, confused. “Are you sure that’s what they want?”
“Of course!” The executive says. “And if it ends up being controversial, then it’ll generate even more buzz. And honestly, ratings are ratings no matter what they think about the ending.”
Dean looks down and fiddles with his wedding ring. “I guess that means you have absolutely no problem killing off your main character twenty minutes into the last episode in the stupidest way possible?”
The executive’s face drops. “I’m sorry?”
“You should be sorry,” Dean says, moving to stand up and walk towards the executive. “You should be very sorry.”
Sam’s eyes widen and he moves to possibly restrain his brother from physically assaulting a TV executive. “Dean…”
“First off, where’s my husband? Probably better known to you as the sacrificial lamb Castiel!” Dean shouts. “The minute we were given free will, I practically dove head first into the Empty to save his beautiful, stupid angel ass. I pulled him out of there the same way he pulled me out of Hell and he became human! We had fantastic sex and a beautiful wedding and all he got were a couple of name drops? You think that I would just go to a pie festival happily while knowing that the love of my life was still dead? Are you out of your fucking mind?”
Sam puts a hand on Dean’s shoulder and starts steering him out of the room. “Alright, Dean. It’s not worth it.”
“Sam! I’m not done!” Dean exclaims, wriggling out of Sam’s grasp and walking back over to the now terrified executive. “And where was Jack during the last half of that shit show? Because, while it is true that he is busy rebuilding Heaven, he still comes over for Sunday dinner and family game night and any other time he feels like dropping by. Because he’s a part of our family! Sam isn’t the only family I have anymore! There are other people that I love that are just as, if not more important than my brother!”
Sam pulls Dean back again and steps in front of him towards the executive. “Dean, allow me,” he says before turning to the executive, clearing his throat, and turning on Samuel Winchester, Esquire. “Sir, are you aware of the potential negative ramifications of this episode on the mental health of your viewers?”
The executive blinks. “What?”
“I said, are you aware of the potential negative ramifications of this episode on the mental health of your viewers?” Sam replies, repeating his sentence slightly slower this time.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the executive says, looking dumbly at Sam.
“Alright. Let’s look at the character of Dean Winchester for a moment, shall we?” Sam starts with a smug smile, one he usually saves for defendants he knows are guilty.
~~~
“I’m sorry I made you watch that,” Sam says to Dean in the car ride back after spending a solid hour tearing that executive a new one.
Dean shakes his head and shrugs. “I mean, what did we really expect? It was Chuck’s ending; it was always going to be disappointing.”
“I know, but I didn’t think that they’d just kill off Cas and never talk about it,” Sam says. “And that’s not even getting started on how you died of tetanus in a barn in Ohio while we were fighting vampires?”
“That was so fucking stupid,” Dean grumbles. “I’ve killed Hitler and they think they can take me out with a goddamn fucking rusty fucking nail. And then you lived the rest of your life looking like a Halloween store version of Mr. Rogers.”
Sam shrugs. “The wig wasn’t that bad.”
“Oh, no. The wig was that bad,” Dean says. “And the only reason you’re not angrier is that they actually got your life right for the most part.”
Sam shakes his head. “No, it’s not. I’m still plenty angry. They didn’t even think I wouldn’t miss Eileen. Love of my life, like what you said about Cas.”
“Yeah? Well, let’s look at it this way, shall we?” Dean starts, tapping on the steering wheel of the Impala. “Cas gets killed off. I get killed off. Jack disappears. And you get the apple pie life that you were always destined to have. Whether or not that’s with Eileen, kinda up to interpretation. But that doesn’t change the fact that you do, in fact, have a son named Dean. And I know that it’s just his middle name and that you also have a daughter, but that still counts!”
Sam sighs. “I know.”
“I can’t believe they think I love my car more than my husband,” Dean says under his breath. “I can’t believe they think I care more about a stupid dog than my husband.”
“I’m starting to think you just like calling Cas your husband,” Sam says, grinning.
Dean glares at Sam for a moment before turning his eyes back on the road. “I’m making up for lost time; we could have been together for years.”
“Man, I already told you this. Don’t feel guilty. You couldn’t have known.”
“I thought you said you knew we liked each other years ago and hated being the third wheel,” Dean says.
Sam shakes his head. “That has nothing to do with the fact that you still wouldn’t have believed me even if I told you and you know it.”
Dean rolls his eyes. “Doesn’t mean that I wish that we could have had more time. And that I didn’t figure it all out right when he was taken by the Empty.”
“I know,” Sam says tiredly. They’ve had this conversation a million times before; it never got any easier. “But you have him now and that’s what matters.”
Dean is quiet for a moment as they drive back towards their neighborhood. “I killed Hitler. I killed Death twice. And what does me in is a stupid fucking nail.”
And that’s when Sam starts laughing.
~~~
Dean parks Baby in the garage after dropping Sam off at his and Eileen’s place and walks into the house. Four bedrooms, three and a half bath, a big backyard with a garden, an attached garage, and a white picket fence. But Dean thinks that the best part of their house is how much it feels like a home. No lifeless motel art on the walls or unoffensive wallpaper that was peeling in the corners. Instead, there are crayon drawings hung on the refrigerator, a small bi pride flag in the pencil can on Dean’s desk with a matching rainbow one on Cas’s. Dean can’t help but smile every time he saw Cas’s trench coat hanging in the mudroom. He takes off his own coat, hangs it next to the trench coat, and toes off his shoes before walking into the kitchen.
He remembers that when they first bought the place, and he and Cas pretended to be impressed with the granite countertops and the crown molding. But now Dean’s just grateful that the island is big enough to seat five people comfortably so they don’t have to worry about space when Jack is over for breakfast. Plus, Cas looks spectacular in their kitchen (though Dean has come to discover that Cas looks spectacular in pretty much every situation).
“Hello, Dean,” Cas says from behind him in that wonderful gravely, almost illegally sexy voice. “How was the screening?”
Dean turns around and pulls Cas into a tight embrace and passionate kiss, taking Cas completely by surprise but he quickly melted into the kiss. It has been so good. Every single time was magical in ways that Dean couldn’t have even dreamt of all those years ago. Though, he supposed, they did have twelve years to make up for, which meant that they had to make every moment count.
When they finally break apart, panting and foreheads touching, Cas looks up at Dean with those blue eyes. “I really appreciate the gesture, darling, but you didn’t answer my question.”
Dean grins and shakes his head, the use of the pet name making his heart skip a beat. “It was the worst fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
Cas’s eyes narrow. “Do I even want to know what happened?”
“No.” Dean shakes his head again and steals another kiss.
Cas lets out a small laugh. “Are you going to tell me anyway?”
Dean laughs and kisses Cas’s cheek. “You know me too well,” he says before letting go of Cas and walking around the kitchen. “I assume you haven’t started dinner?”
“I’d never take that pleasure away from you,” Cas replies.
“Jesus, Cas, we’re talking about making dinner for four-year-olds,” Dean jokes. “You could’ve just thrown in some of those dinosaur chicken nuggets that they like and called it a day.”
“True, but I also know that there’s some ground beef in the fridge that’s about to go bad and that I don’t trust myself to make a famous Winchester burger,” Cas replies. “And I had a feeling that you’d want to cook when you got home to remedy whatever stupid ending that TV show decided to pair with Chuck’s endings.”
Dean pauses for a moment and looks at Cas as a warmth rushes through his body and makes his stomach swoop. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Cas says, smiling softly. “So, what happened?”
And so, Dean regales in excruciating detail the absolutely terrible two hours he spent with Sam in that cramped screening room with the slimy executive. He tries to keep his language as PG as possible, considering that the twins could come running in at any minute. But, alas, Dean can’t help but drop a few f-bombs when describing the inexplicable absence of Cas, his own ridiculous death, and Sam’s Party City old man outfit.
Around when Dean is wrapping up the story (and cooking dinner), Jack pops in.
“So you watched the end of the show, huh?” He asks.
Cas turns to Jack and smiles. “You joining us for dinner?”
Jack shrugs. “I heard Dean was making burgers. Nothing better than a fresh bacon cheeseburger, am I right?”
Dean beams and walks over to ruffle Jack’s hair. “That’s my boy!”
At that moment, the twins bound down the stairs with all the energy of the rambunctious four-year-olds they were quickly becoming. Dean had quietly come to the conclusion that he was never going to have children when he was in his twenties. Even after he and Cas finally got their act together, Dean didn’t actually think that they’d ever have kids. And then they found the twins on a hunt, only a few hours old and impossibly tiny. When the dust settled, Dean surprised himself when he asks Cas if they could take in the newborns. They settled on the names Caroline Miriam for the girl (Sam and Eileen had already taken Mary) and Robert James for the boy. But everyone knew the twins as little Carrie and Bobby Winchester.
Jack immediately kneels to the ground to scoop up both kids into a hug. “Jack!” They squeal as they hug him back.
“Hey, guys!” Jack says with a grin. “I missed you. I hope you don’t mind me joining you for dinner tonight.”
“You’re still coming to dinner at Uncle Sam and Auntie Eileen's tomorrow, right?” Carrie asks. Even when she was a baby, Cas and Dean knew that Carrie was going to be a very curious and opinionated person. Once she figured out how to string together sentences, she was always asking questions about anything and everything. She’d even ask questions about movies she’d already seen a million times (When she asked why they were clapping at the end of the original Star Wars, Dean jokingly told her that it was because the Empire won. Boy, did Carrie let him have it.). If she wasn’t so damn cute, with her big brown eyes and pigtails, Dean probably would have ripped his hair out by now. But she reminds him a little bit of Sam. But loud. Which probably is his fault, if he was being honest with himself.
Jack lets go of the twins to look Carrie in the eye. “Of course! I never miss Sunday dinner!”
Carrie grins and runs over to Cas, making grabby hands. “Papa! Papa! We’re gonna have dinner with Jack two days in a row!”
Cas scoops Carrie up and lets her rest on his hip. “I know. It’s exciting,” he says, planting a kiss on the top of her head.
Bobby looks at Jack and tilts his head, a very serious expression on his face. With his blue eyes and untameable poof of dark hair, everyone thought he was related to Castiel to the point where they almost couldn’t believe he was adopted. But that didn’t stop Bobby from being an actual mini-Cas: following Cas around in the garden, not quite understanding the things that Dean talks about (granted, he’s four), and that infuriatingly adorable head tilt. Bobby even has a little tan trench coat that Sam got him when he and Eileen took the twins and Mary out for the day.
“Jack?” Bobby asks.
“Bobby?” Jack replies, still smiling.
“Did you know that bees help plants make more plants?” He asks, his eyes lighting up as he got increasingly excited. “Papa told me that bees are important and we shouldn’t be scared of them even though they have stingers. The stingers are just to protect themselves.”
Dean knew that Jack already knows this, but that doesn’t stop Jack from pretending he didn’t know and straight up making Bobby’s day. Who knew God would have been such a good big brother? (Cas knew. One of the first things he said when they adopted the twins was that Jack would be excited to have two new siblings to look after and adore. Dean didn’t doubt him.)
Jack helps set the table while Cas wrangles the twins and Dean finishes up dinner. When they sit down to eat, they joke and tell stories and argue about silly little things that don’t matter. It’s all so warm and domestic. It warms Dean’s heart to no end that he gets to live this life when he thought he’d never live past forty-five, let alone settle down, get married, have kids, and not worry about possibly dying on a piece of rusty rebar in a barn in Ohio.
He and Cas even retired from hunting for the time being, with Dean getting a job at the local mechanic and Cas working part-time at a local greenhouse while looking after the twins. Not that they abandoned the world of hunting; their guest bedroom is a landing pad for hunters needing a place to crash and are always willing to teach those just starting out. It’s a good life.
After dinner, Jack and the twins go out into the backyard to play while Cas and Dean wash the dishes and watch their kids through the window.
“I’m so happy,” Dean says, unprompted while drying a plate.
Cas stops scrubbing and looks over at Dean. “You’re talking about your feelings.”
Dean rolls his eyes and hip checks Cas lightly. “I am. Because I’m happy. I didn’t think I’d ever get to feel this happy. Even when I was a kid and decided to tempt fate by thinking about what my life could look like if I wanted to go on and live an apple pie life, I just thought I’d be miserable. But I never could have imagined this life. Sam’s down the road, kids that call me 'dad' running around the backyard, falling in love with my best friend and marrying him with our whole lives ahead of us. I never thought I’d ever end up here.”
“I’m happy, too,” Cas replies softly, shyly looking over at Dean from the dishes in the sink. “You, the kids, Sunday dinners at Sam and Eileen’s. It makes me feel like I made the right choice.”
“Being human?” Dean asks.
Cas nods. “I know it means I can’t save you if you’re ever impaled by rusty metal objects, but it means I get to experience growing old with you.”
Dean snorts. “I don’t think I’m ever gonna get over that. Stupidest fucking way to go out.”
“I don’t know,” Cas said, scrubbing a pan. “Didn’t Sam say you once died by poisoned tacos?”
“That doesn’t count. That was during a time loop,” Dean said. “I died very dumb deaths on that Tuesday that don’t count because the day got reset whenever I died.”
Cas shrugs. “Whatever you say. We’re all going to get tetanus shots tomorrow.”
Dean blinks and shakes his head. “Angel, what’re the chances that I’m actually going to get impaled? It’s not like we’re going hunting again until the kids are teenagers. At least.”
“I don’t care. I want you sticking around for as long as you can,” Cas says. “And you probably work around more rusty metal as a mechanic than you ever were hunting, so excuse me for wanting to keep my husband safe. And alive. Which I realize is a huge thing to ask of you.”
“Cas, don’t worry,” Dean says, moving to wrap his arms around Cas’s waist and resting his chin on his shoulder. “I had to get a tetanus shot when I started working as a mechanic and you only have to get one every ten years. And the kids are up to date on all their shots. We’re gonna be fine.”
Cas sighs and leans his head against Dean’s as they watch their kids run around the backyard. “We’re gonna be fine,” Cas echoes.