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“Sam! Dean! Cas! It snowed! It snowed! It snowed!”
Castiel had been sitting at the little table in the cabin they were staying at, reading. Sam and Dean had been sleeping, but now Dean was grumbling. Sam was shifting in his bed.
Jack, excited (especially with the snow out the window), went to Sam and started shaking him, having ahold of his shoulder.
Sam rolled over onto his side, and blinked open his eyes. With one hand, he started rubbing the sleep out of the corners of them.
“Jack, it’s too early,” Sam complained.
“Actually, the sun has risen,” Castiel pointed out.
Dean groaned. “Fuck you.”
“Hey, language!” Cas reprimanded.
Jack didn’t know what the supposed bad word meant, but he didn’t care at the moment. There was snow outside! He’d seen it falling out the window.
“Okay, well, we have work to do today,” Sam said. “That’s why we’re in New York.”
“The roads aren’t looking too good,” Castiel pointed out, not even looking away from his book, or getting up from his seat.
Jack grinned as Sam got on his back, and then relented, “Fine. But we have to grab something to eat first.”
“Deal,” Jack said with a nod.
Dean just put his pillow over his head.
They ate a hearty breakfast at a restaurant that served solely breakfast: eggs, bacon, and giant waffles with a ton of whipped cream, and then they were heading back to the cabin. The cabin itself was nestled up against one of the multitude of mountains in the rural area, and trees dotted the landscape here and there before the cabin. Though, mostly it was a large, empty field.
Sam and Dean said they’d just go out in their jeans, flannel, coats, and gloves, which Cas didn’t fully approve of, but Jack was the one they focused on the most. They gave him some thermal pants they’d packed, made him wear jeans over it, had him wear two pairs of socks, and the winter boots they’d bought for him a few weeks ago. Then they gave him mittens because they were “warmer than gloves,” and to finish it up, Castiel put a scarf around him. The scarf was so soft that Jack buried his face into its sky blue wool. In fact, he decided to wrap it around his mouth and nose.
Dean smiled, and teased, “What, are we on Hoth?”
Jack laughed at the joke, sound muffled by the scarf.
The four of them headed outside.
Dean still complained that he didn’t want to do it. Cas just squeezed his hand.
An hour later, giant snow forts had been set up, one on either side, positioned across from each other. Snowballs were flying back and forth.
Jack poked his head out over the top of the fort he’d made with his father, and he threw it particularly hard. It soared through the air, and arced downward, landing inside Sam and Dean’s defenses.
“Son of a bitch!”
Cas and Jack giggled, but Cas made his own snowball, and aimed. Seeing as he was an angel, his aim was almost perfect. Just as he’d planned, it had hit Dean.
Before Dean could sputter or spout anger, Cas yelled across the field, “No swearing!”
Sam’s laugh soon followed.
Sam had good aim, and managed to hit Castiel and Jack many times. Jack ended up holding his scarf up, hoping his dads would recognize this as a sign of truce. It wasn’t white, but it’d still do, right?
No. A snowball came and landed right in the scarf, which pushed it back into his face. He fell on his butt and started laughing.
“I win!” Dean declared all of a sudden, standing and raising his arms in the air as he danced. “Take that!”
Jack saw Sam’s hand come up and it was desperately tugging on Dean’s coat.
Castiel threw a snowball at Dean, and it hit him right in the chest. Dean looked down at it, dumbfounded.
Castiel stood, “Actually, I like to think Jack and I won.”
Dean opened his mouth to argue, and Sam came up. They heard him say, “Just let them have this one.”
Later, dressed in warm, dry clothes, they sat before the fire. Cas was kissing a grumbling Dean on the cheek, seeming amused that his boyfriend was upset about being declared the loser.
Jack ignored it for the most part, just focusing on his scarf as it dried before the fire.