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Dean wishes he could forget what had happened.
He wants so desperately to pretend that everything is fine between him and Jack, but every time he looks at the kid, all he can see is his mother’s lifeless body in his arms.
But it hurts to see Jack’s face fall every time Dean instinctively lashes out. He hates the way the kid is walking on eggshells, trying so hard to win his approval--his trust--again.
He knows Jack feels bad for what he did, and seeing the grief and regret in Jack’s eyes every time he walks around the bunker, no doubt seeing the same shadows of Mary that Dean is, only makes Dean feel guiltier for the part of him that’s still mad.
And yet, he can’t get past it.
But he’s trying. And he’s going to keep trying.
He’d meant every word he’d said to Jack, locked in the dungeon. Deep down, a part of Dean will always be hurt by what happened, but in the end, the kid’s family, and he always will be, no matter how many mistakes he makes along the way.
So when Mrs. Butters says her goodbyes, much to Dean’s dismay--her grilled cheeses were almost as good as Bess’s--he decides that there’s one more holiday they should catch up on.
Sam walks in on him mid-decoration, but instead of the questioning or teasing Dean was expecting, he simply smiles lightly, hesitating slightly to give the cake a once-over before continuing his path to the fridge, grabbing a couple of beers and making his way back to the library.
When the cake is finally finished, Dean rifles through one of the drawers for a birthday candle before slipping the cover on top, following his brother’s path back to the library. He can hear Sam and Jack’s serious tones as he walks in, so he quickly tries to brighten the mood, adopting a grin as he speaks up.
“Alright alright,” he chants, electing to ignore the comment Sam makes about his apron, instead focusing on gently placing the cake on the table. “Boom.”
“Now,” he starts, addressing both parties. “Mrs. Butters was right, okay? We are busy. Sometimes, a little too busy. But right now…” He trails off, reaching forward and making a show of lifting the top off of the cake stand to reveal his creation. “Ta-da!” Jack stares down at the cake, then at him, seeming taken aback, but there’s definitely a smile forming on his face, so Dean continues.
“I made it myself,” he states, proudly, only to give it another look and backtrack slightly with an: “Obviously.” He hesitates briefly, momentarily doubting himself as it occurs to him that Jack may not even want it. “I mean, it’s, you know, not like Mrs. Butters makes it, but…”
“It’s great,” Jack interjects, and when Dean locks eyes with him, the shadow of a smile has turned into a full blown grin, and Dean’s heart warms, throwing him off. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed seeing genuine joy on his kid’s face.
Awkwardly, he turns away, attempting to mask his emotions as he reaches into his apron pocket for his lighter, prepping the candle and putting it on the cake. However, he can’t hide the fond smile that makes its way onto his face as he pushes the cake towards his son.
“Happy birthday, Jack,” he says, surprising himself with the affection in his voice. By the look on Jack’s face, it surprises him too, and his gaze stays on Dean for a second as if searching for something before his entire body visibly relaxes. When it does, something in Dean’s own body unclenches, and the slight tension in his shoulders slowly dissipates as Sam speaks up beside him.
“Alright,” he says, bringing Jack’s attention his way. “Make a wish.” Jack looks at Sam for a minute, then back up at Dean, and to Dean’s happy surprise, their echoing smiles hold more genuineness than they have in a long time.
And when Jack turns back to the cake, leaning closer to blow out the quickly waning candle, Dean exchanges a quick glance with his brother before turning back to Jack, finally realizing something.
He forgave the kid a long time ago.
All he needed to do was remind himself.
~
When Sam had walked in on Dean making Jack a birthday cake, he had been surprised, to say the least; more than anything, though, he had been relieved.
A part of Sam still hurts whenever he thinks about his Mom--how they’d gone through so much to finally have her in their lives, only to lose her all over again--but that hurt was nothing compared to the pain of watching the growing tension in his family in the wake of her death.
Being the mediator for someone as stubborn as his brother has always been impossible, and with Cas and Jack so clearly struggling to cope with their own emotions, that task is even harder. Add trying to fight God into the mix, and Sam pretty much considers it a win if any of them manage to tolerate each other for any extended period of time.
But now, it seems like things are finally looking up.
He’d been so relieved when Dean and Cas got on good terms again, but the tension between his brother and Jack had only seemed to keep growing. So when he sees Dean making their son a birthday cake--not even on his actual birthday, but as a last little part of their holiday catch-up--he feels as if a huge weight is lifted from his shoulders, and he exits the kitchen smiling, lightweight.
But when he crosses back to the table to see Jack, head resting on his hand, fingers tapping lightly, his smile turns to a frown at realizing something still isn’t sitting right with the youngest Winchester. He hesitates briefly, wheels turning, before crossing to the table completely, sitting down across from his son, prepared to take the new problem in stride. He slides the second beer to him, but Jack barely acknowledges it, eyes flicking up briefly at the movement before his gaze returns to the table in front of him.
Sam takes a quick swig from his own beer before leaning back, giving Jack the chance to open up first. After several minutes of silence, however, he finally makes the first move, leaning forward again.
“Are you, uh…” he starts, trying to convey the trust and understanding that he knows Jack so desperately needs. “You know, if--if there’s anything you wanna talk about…”
“I know,” Jack says simply, but doesn’t go on, and Sam resists the urge to frown. Instead, he nods slightly in response, but inside, his heart breaks.
He just wants him to feel comfortable opening up to them again, like he used to. A part of him still feels like Jack is hiding something, and he doesn’t want his own son to think that he can’t trust him--that he won’t be there for him, whatever it is.
Thankfully, Jack eventually does sigh a little.
“It’s just…” he starts, trailing off as he sits up slightly. “I’m supposed to kill God, and I got…” he trails off again, looking up at Sam, frustration mixing with something else in his eyes. “She got me. Because, I was stupid, and…”
Sam’s heart clenches a little at that. They’d all fallen for it. Jack already has way too much responsibility resting on his shoulders--he shouldn’t have to shoulder that too. Before he can say that, though, Jack continues.
“Sam,” he starts, looking directly at him. As they lock eyes, Sam can see the various emotions flitting behind his gaze--confusion, anger, frustration, self-doubt and something else he can’t quite place--and his heart clenches again. “Do you really think I can do this?”
Sam looks at him briefly before moving his gaze away as he debates.
To be perfectly honest, Sam has no idea. He believes in Jack, just like always, but this...fighting God...it’s a big fight, even for the Winchesters, and it’s one that he knows won’t be easy.
But he also knows that Jack is capable of anything he puts his mind to, and he knows that Jack, more than anyone else, is the one person that can do this.
“Jack, you’re the only one who can,” he admits. But as he watches Jack’s eyebrows furrow a little in concern, he tacks on a smile, reminding Jack that he’ll always have faith in him.
He just hopes Jack is able to find the faith in himself.
Luckily for both of them, Dean picks the perfect time to walk in with his creation for Jack, and Sam uses the transition to help brighten the energy in the room.
“He loves that apron,” he mumbles to Jack as Dean places the stand on the table. Jack is clearly confused as Dean sets up the reveal, but Sam can’t help the sly smile making its way onto his face. He hadn’t gotten to see the finished product, but he has a feeling Jack will love it, if only just because Dean made it.
When Dean finally unveils the cake, Sam’s smile grows at seeing the “Happy Birthday Jack” written across the top, and he looks at Jack expectantly for a reaction. To his absolute delight, the kid’s face immediately lights up, growing more and more as Dean continues.
“It’s great,” he finally says, cutting off Dean’s rambling, and as Dean preps the candle and pushes the cake towards him, Jack’s face holds more joy than Sam had seen in...a really long time, and he can feel his own grin growing at the sight.
“Alright,” Sam finally says, getting Jack’s attention in the process. “Make a wish.” And as Jack takes another look at Dean, Sam does the same, eventually locking eyes with his brother as Jack turns away, probably debating his wish.
Their non-verbal exchange is brief, but the few seconds is just enough for Sam to see just how much Dean really does care about their son, no matter what mistakes he’s made in the past.
And the smile on Jack’s face as the candle goes out fills his eyes with a joyous hope that makes Sam’s own heart soar with optimism and delight.
Dean may not be over everything that’s happened just yet, and Jack might still be plagued with guilt and uncertainty, but they’re all making steps in the right direction.
And Sam couldn’t be prouder of them.
~
The weight of it all is too much for Jack.
He killed Mary, who was like a second mom to him, hurting Sam and Dean in the process, and no matter what he does, he knows they’ll never trust him again. Not in the same way.
And then, after everything, he’d let Mrs. Butters get the jump on him, and Sam and Dean had almost paid the price.
Now he doesn’t even know if he can trust himself.
His fingers tap nervously on the table in front of him, uncertainty running through his mind as he thinks about Billie’s plan.
He can tell Sam knows he’s hiding something, but he can’t bring himself to tell them. He can’t decide if it’s because he’s worried they won’t let him do it, or because he’s worried they will.
He knows it’s what he has to do. It’s the only way to save his family, to save the world. But as much as he hates to admit it to himself...he’s scared. Scared of losing the people he loves, scared of messing up again...scared of dying.
What if he can’t pull it off?
He hears Sam walk back into the room, but he avoids eye contact, opting to continue staring at the table. A beer makes its way into his line of vision, and there’s silence between the two of them for several minutes before Sam finally speaks up.
“Are you, uh...you know, if--if there’s anything you wanna talk about…”
“I know,” Jack responds simply as Sam trails off. His insecurities get the better of him, though, and words leave his lips before he can stop them.
“It’s just…” he starts. “I’m supposed to kill God, and I got...she got me. Because I was stupid, and…” He manages to stop himself before he gets carried away, finally working up the courage to look Sam in the eyes.
And his dad is sitting there, so openly listening, and so clearly wanting to help, but not knowing how.
And Jack wants to tell him.
He almost does, right then and there.
“Sam,” he starts.
But then Mary’s face flashes in his mind--her body lying limp on the ground after his failed spell, Dean’s anger as he stared at him from the end of a gun, Mary’s obvious worry and concern right before...
He can’t do it.
He deserves this.
It’s what he has to do, for both of them.
“Do you really think I can do this?” he asks instead, though honestly, he isn’t sure what answer he’s expecting.
And Sam looks at him for a minute, sighing a little, clearly debating his answer, but when he finally speaks up, there’s an openness and a trust in his gaze that Jack wasn’t expecting.
“Jack you’re the only one who can.”
And the statement is filled with weight, and it should probably make Jack feel worse about the whole situation.
But somehow, when Sam says it, it doesn’t seem so bad.
“Alright alright,” Dean says from the other room, and Jack turns to look at him instinctively.
“He loves that apron,” he hears Sam scoff, and Jack smiles a little to himself, though his face quickly morphs to confusion as Dean sets a platter in front of him.
“Now,” Dean starts, and Jack listens expectantly. “Mrs. Butters was right, okay? We are busy. Sometimes, a little too busy. But right now…ta-da!”
When Dean takes off the top to reveal a cake, the words “Happy Birthday Jack” scrawled across it in icing, Jack looks up at his dad in surprise. After everything the two of them have been through, and the tension they’ve had with each other, this is the last thing Jack would’ve expected.
“I made it myself, obviously,” Dean continues, and Jack continues to stare at him, a natural smile slowly building on his face. “I mean, it’s, you know, not like Mrs. Butters makes it, but…”
“It’s great,” Jack says instinctively, and Dean looks over at him, smiling a little before turning away, seemingly awkward at the interaction. Jack watches as he sets up the candle and cake before pushing it over to him with a final: “Happy Birthday, Jack”.
This time, when the two of them lock eyes, Dean’s smile is completely genuine, and filled with so much fondness and affection that it throws Jack off, but in the best way. He smiles back, some of his tension from earlier slowly loosening at the way Dean’s looking at him.
“Alright,” Sam then says, and when Jack turns to look at him, his other dad is smiling just as brightly as Dean. “Make a wish.”
He looks back and forth between both of them, and his smile grows.
The tension Jack had been feeling for so long is momentarily gone. Instead, he swears Sam and Dean’s gazes hold only affection and love, and maybe even a hint of pride.
Maybe he was wrong.
Maybe they do still trust him after all.
Maybe they can learn to forgive him.
He looks down at the cake, smiling to himself.
This doesn’t change anything. He’s still the only one that can defeat God.
But if this is the only way, so be it.
Of course he’s scared.
But if it means preserving this, saving Sam and Dean and Cas, protecting his family…
Then he’ll do it.
He’ll do it in a heartbeat.
As he stares at the cake, he smiles lightly as he finally blows out the candle.
I wish for exactly this.