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The house was quiet as Castiel meandered around and tidied up, turning off lights and double-checking that all the doors were locked as he went. He stretched and ran a hand through his graying hair. He wasn't old, but parenthood, he thought wryly, was never as easy as it looked, and it looked pretty hard. A yawn wracked his body and he finally conceded it was time for bed; the other chores could wait until the morning, and Morning Cas will say they can wait till the afternoon. Problem solved.
Halfway up the stairs, he paused, cocking his head to listen carefully. The old bones of the house often creaked but this noise was new. The smooth snick of metal against metal came from the kid's room, so Castiel leapt up the remaining steps and pushed open the brightly painted door.
Both children were asleep, but Castiel's mouth dropped open as he watched silverware hover around Jack, bobbing as the toddler breathed slowly in and out. Cas backed out of the room and woke his husband to check if the boy he needed a CAT scan or an exorcist.
Dean rubbed his eyes and, while Castiel would normally find that endearing, he was a little preoccupied with the weird shit happening in the bedroom of his newly placed foster children. Cas gently shoved Dean ahead of himself, and he was relieved to see the dumbfounded look on his handsome face.
Dean crept forward and plucked a fork from the air.
"What the actual fuck, Cas?" Dean whispered, his eyes wide.
Castiel felt that was a bit of an understatement.
They scooped the cutlery together, getting no resistance from the levitating metal, and quietly left as the twins slept on.
Maybe Cas shouldn't leave the dishwashing for tomorrow; if he did, they wouldn't have any spoons for breakfast. He let out a little hysterical giggle and, with a distinct feeling that his brain had finally broken, Cas went to bed.
After the third instance of unruly utensils, Dean kept the sharper stuff in a childproof drawer.
A year or so later—unusual occurrences not so unusual anymore—Cas was kneeling in his flower beds when he heard Claire shout. He shot up as fast as a forty-five-year-old could and ran to where she sat under the jungle gym, prodding at a bloody gash on her elbow.
"Oh, Claire bear, let me see." Cas crooned, and she offered her arm to him. "That's a nasty one. C'mon." He led her to sit at their picnic table. "I'll grab the kit." With a quick kiss to her head he ran inside to find the first aid box.
"Okay, sweet pea, let's have a look at that graze." Castiel pulled out an antiseptic wipe and took hold of her arm gently. He dragged the cloth over the wound, but, after wiping it clean of blood, Cas could see that the skin was completely intact, with no trace of a wound.
Castiel wished he could say this sort of thing was surprising, but, with the twins, he'd learned to roll with the punches and shrug off the weirdness. If he was a whimsical person, he might think he'd adopted a couple of wizards but—after many, many playful debates—he'd decided to embrace Dean's (nerdy ass) theory that they were just the next step in human evolution, like the X-Men.
There's no way they were going to alert a doctor to their differences. Best case scenario would include a bunch of invasive testing and he wasn't going to subject them to that. They could decide for themselves when they were older.
A few years later…
"Dean, could you grab the cereal please? Claire, your job is milk and Jack…Jack?" Cas looked around to see Jack with his scrawny arms aloft, levitating a pack of oreos down from a high shelf. "Jack!" Cas hissed. "Knock it off!" The Oreos crash-landed into the cart and Jack looked at his feet.
"Just, not here, okay?" Castiel drew Jack into a hug and checked his watch. "Okay, let's find papa."
Castiel and Jack found Dean just standing still in the cereal aisle. When he spotted them approaching, Dean raised a finger to his lips and made the universal gesture for 'come eavesdrop with me'.
"Ma'am, you're certain you haven't seen two children: twins, a boy and a girl, around 12 years old?" a deep voice asked someone unknown.
"No, siree, I have not." That was definitely Pam, who ran the town's daycare. She'd known the kids for as long as Dean and Cas had.
"Thank you, ma'am."
Dean carefully moved a few things on the shelves so he could peer through. The man with the deep voice was dressed in a black wool suit, way too warm for Kansas in June, and built like the broad side of a barn. Dean dragged Cas and Jack to the end of the row and ducked behind a Pringles tower.
"Cas, you need to take Jack and leave. I'll find Claire and we'll check out. If we separate they might not figure out we're a family. Heteronormativity for the win, huh?" Dean grinned. "Meet you at the house, okay? Pack some stuff, just in case. Love you.
Castiel and Jack made their way to the exit, carefully avoiding the man in black, and walked briskly home.
Once there, Castiel threw some toiletries and clothes for all of them into a couple of bags and put them in the back of their minivan. Jack watched wide-eyed as Cas stuffed a couple of kitchen knives, wrapped in newspaper, into a duffle and put the bundle carefully under the front seat.
By the time he was finished, Dean and Claire were pulling up in the Impala. Dean's face was grim and Claire looked upset. She pulled open the door before they'd even fully stopped and threw herself at Cas, her arms going tight around his middle.
"Are you okay? What happened?" Cas asked as soon as Dean was near enough.
"That guy stopped us on the way out. Asked Claire if there were any twins at her school. She's a smart cookie. Put him off our trail. Said that there were identical twin boys." He ruffled her hair and, cheered by a hug from her dad, she swatted at him fondly. "Okay, all packed?"
Castiel swallowed and nodded. "Ready to go."
About an hour in, Jack complained he was hungry so Dean pulled into a gas station. Cas went inside for snacks while Dean topped off the tank. The stuff they'd gotten at the store was in the van, so with the cereal and road food, they had a pretty good feast going.
Unfortunately, the peace—broken occasionally by good-natured bickering—didn't last long. Another hour on the road and Dean noticed the same car had been behind them since the gas station. The highway didn't have many exits but Dean still thought it was a bit too much of a coincidence so he pulled off at the next junction.
"Dean?" Cas asked, when he noticed the exit.
"I think someone's tailin' us." Dean murmured. Cas immediately looked out the back window in time to catch a black sedan make a last minute turn onto the same off road they had.
"I think you might be right. Turn a few times to make sure." Cas whispered.
Dean took a windy route through a quiet suburban neighbourhood, and the car confirmed their suspicions when it followed them every turn, then back on to the highway.
"If they're the gov'ment, why don't they just pull us over?" Claire wondered aloud.
"Where did you hear that, Claire?" Cas sighed. He suspected she'd been listening to Bobby after he'd had a couple of whiskeys. "Nevermind. The Government," He enunciated the word so Claire wouldn't make that mistake again, "need a reason to pull us over. So far, your dad has driven well within the law and he keeps the van in perfect condition." Cas pecked him on the cheek proudly.
"Thanks, Cas, but the hands-off approach won't work forever and we'll need to stop for gas again at one point. At least the van is squeaky clean, right?" Dean glanced over when Cas didn't answer. "Right?"
"Um, well, there may or may not be a pair of kitchen knives under my seat." Cas said to his lap where his hands were twisting anxiously. "I'm sorry, I was freaked out by that guy at the store and we don't exactly have any weapons in the house!"
"It's fine, Cas. I get it, I do. We'll burn that bridge when we get to it."
"Cross it."
"Huh?"
"We'll, cross that bridge when we come to it. Not burn it." Cas said with wide eyes.
"Yeah, 'course. S'what I meant." Dean shrugged.
The van was silent for a moment, only the rhythmic thump as they ran over the patches of tarmac from years of repair and the hum of the air conditioning.
Jack started to fidget, opening his mouth only to close it again.
"What is it, Jack?" Cas asked gently.
"Where are we going?"
Cas and Dean shared a look before finally answering. "We're going to head to Uncle Bobby's, then see where to go from there.”
"What about the people following us?" Claire asked.
"Well, we're going to try and lose them in the hills. Dean knows those woods like the back of his hand. It might get bumpy but we'll manage." Cas smiled through his own fear of not knowing why their kids were being targeted by a shady agency, whether they could get away, or even if they should be running in the first place. Cas knew in his gut that he would do anything to keep his family safe.
A few miles found them in a densely wooded area, the odd offshoot of dirt road winding its way into the wilderness. Dean picked one that led behind Bobby's cabin by a mile or two. He figured he could hide the van and they could walk the rest.
Jack and Claire had been whispering to each other for a while now and Cas' curiosity got the better of him. "Something you can share?"
"When the time comes." Jack entoned seriously and Claire giggled. She slapped him with the back of her hand.
"You don't need to be so dramatic, Jack! We're trying to figure out if we can help. You'll see." She said with a twinkle in her eye that Cas wasn't sure he trusted. As she said though, he would just have to wait and see.
Cas discovered he didn't have to wait long as, a mile or so later, Claire asked Dean to slow down a bit. He did so (reluctantly) and instinctively tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
"This could get bumpy." Claire parroted Cas with a grin. "Hold onto your butts!"
Jack planted his hands firmly on the table and closed his eyes. The air began to hum and a purple glow overtook the now floating van. Everything rattled violently, sending junk food and travel bowls flying. Then, with a loud sucking noise and a pop, the van dropped to the ground.
Cas looked up. They were outside Bobby's cabin. The man himself stood on his porch, eyes wide and jaw dropped.
"HeyBobbygoodtoseeyoucouldyougrabthetarpplease?" Dean said in one go as he grabbed the bags. Cas ushered Claire in front of him and scooped up an exhausted Jack. Bobby visibly shook himself, pulled a large leafy tarpaulin out from under the deck, and dragged it over the bright yellow van.
Dean shakily poured himself a whiskey and downed it in one. Cas had to lay a hand on his arm to keep him from chasing that with another. Dean pulled him in and kissed him on the temple gratefully.
"Okay, Dean. What in Sam Hill is going on?" Bobby growled. "Skip the magic camper part and tell me what the damn rush is."
"It started nearly ten years ago." Cas began and Bobby raised his eyebrows. "Trust me, Bobby, this is important. I'll be as brief as I can." Bobby nodded and Cas took a deep breath. "Weird stuff started happening a month or so after we fostered the kids. We think that this might be why they had such a hard time being placed."
Dean squeezed Cas' shoulder and took over. "Claire started adopting pets. Not ladybugs and stick insects but wild rabbits, mice, oh hey, remember when that owl lived on her windowsill, damn thing wouldn't shut up?" Dean chuckled. "Jack used to collect things, bottle caps, pins, anything metal and he'd…" Dean paused and searched Bobby's face for any inkling of scepticism. "he'd make them float. He did it in his sleep a few times but then started to use this…" Dean waved a hand "...gift with purpose."
"The healing comes in handy." Cas piped up. Bobby just closed his eyes and rubbed them, so Dean skipped ahead.
"Anyway, now there are scary looking men after us. They look like feds." Dean finished.
Jack chose this moment to awaken, shooting up to a sitting position on the sofa where Cas had laid him. "We have to go. Now."
Bobby moved first, pulling his keys off the hook on the wall. He tossed them to Dean.
"Take my jeep. Go."
"Thanks, Bobby."
Jack yelled out directions from the passenger seat as Dean drove. Nobody knew where they were headed but Jack sure knew which way to go.
"Stop!"
The jeep stopped before Dean could even hit the break and Jack stumbled out, looking around.
Dean could only see so far as night had fallen. Dark shapes loomed in the distance and the sliver of moon highlighted the swaying edge of a cornfield. The sounds of the night halted, and only the cooling of the jeep's engine made any noise. The pings of hot metal soon slowed and died out as silence settled over the wide open space.
"Jack?" Claire's voice shook. "Do you hear that?" Cas could see Jack nod.
"Hear what?" Dean asked.
"The whispering."
All the hair on Cas' arms stood on end as he watched his children stand, heads cocked, listening to the dark.
"Dad? Papa? They want us to go with them." Jack said sadly. "Our…family."
A fat tear rolled down Dean's cheek. Cas could see it glinting in the moonlight. His own face just as damp, he held Dean's hand and squeezed gently. Dean nodded, ever so slightly. They knew they had to let the kids rejoin their real family. Whatever they were.
"We…" Cas' voice caught in his throat and Dean took over.
"We love you. We'll miss you. But, if that's what you want—what will make you happy—then you can go." Dean finished with a sob. It was unlikely he'd be able to add anything so Cas nodded and held out his arms. Claire and Jack huddled in close and Dean surrounded them all in a family cuddle.
Sniffling, Jack pulled away and shook his head.
"I don't want to go." Jack whispered as a bright light was thrown across his face. Headlights from an incoming black sedan flooded over them.
"They'll leave Dad and Papa alone if we go, Jack." Claire reasoned.
Before either Dean or Cas could object, she grabbed Jack and, with one last look over her shoulder, dragged him into the shadows.
Cas' legs gave out and he sat abruptly in the dirt. Dean knelt next to him and Cas sobbed into his shoulder.
Dean ran a hand through Cas' hair and, rocking them both gently, soothed his husband. The bright lights flickered as the occupants of the car walked towards them.
"They're gone. Leave us alone. They've gone…" Dean's voice cracked "...home."
The man from the store looked at his partner (a stern woman in a grey pantsuit) who nodded and, after a long look into the corn, they turned to leave.
The headlights receded with the crunch of dirt and gravel as the car left, leaving Cas and Dean sitting on the ground among the cicadas that had started chirping again.
Kansas was full of cornfields. It was pretty much all the eye could see in some parts. Cas liked to walk along the perimeter of them and Dean preferred to avoid them.
It was May again and it had been nearly a year since the kids had run out of their lives.
Cas missed them terribly. They'd been great kids, a true blessing. As they'd gotten older, they'd only gotten more interesting by becoming their own people. Claire had started to get snarky which always amused Dean. He thought he hid it well but Cas could tell every time he was fighting a laugh. Jack was just so kind. He would give you the shirt off his back if you needed it. All of his clothes as a matter of fact; he was a bit of a nudist, that one. Cas chuckled to himself, glad Jack had grown out of that.
Cas knew that Dean missed them too. They didn't talk about it, but he knew. Jack used to help Dean with the car, handing him wrenches and whatever else you use on a car. Dean would let Jack slide under on the creeper, then drag him out by his ankles. It always made the kid giggle like a maniac.
Cas turned his face up to the sun and smiled. He liked to feel the warmth on his skin and he would often lose himself in it. He could almost hear them yelling at him for not paying attention.
"Dad!" Jack would sound excited. Claire could sometimes sound really exasperated, her voice the vocal embodiment of an eyeroll. "Daaaad!"
Wait.
Cas' head shot down as Claire burst out of the cornfield ahead of him, Jack close behind.
"Whuh?" Cas said intelligently. Not exactly the poetry he'd often imagined saying if he ever got to see his children again. Claire slammed into him, knocking him over while Jack piled on, too, crushing the breath out of him. Cas squeezed back and buried his face in Jack's hair.
Eventually, the twins sat back, beaming at their dad.
"Look!" Jack held his hand out. There was a rusted bottle cap sitting in the centre of his palm. Cas squinted at it.
"Um, what am I looking at, Jack?"
The kid had the nerve to giggle at him. "It's not moving!" He laughed and nudged Claire. She held up her hand. It had been grazed when they fell, but it was still bleeding. Cas immediately pulled a tissue from his pocket and pressed it to her palm.
"It's fine, dad. Well, it's not healed but that's the point! We gave up our powers." She grinned and hugged him again. "It was the only way we could come back."
"Yeah, we had a trial and everything. Our biological parents left us here to get away from the bad people back there." Jack gestured casually over his shoulder at the cornfield. "Then they overthrew them and called us back. Time's a bit weird there."
"Yeah, we've only been gone a month but we missed you too much. We came home." She grinned again.
"It's been nearly a year. We missed you too. Papa's gonna freak. I don't know whether to warn him or surprise him!"
"Surprise him!" Jack shouted gleefully.
"Okay, let's go."
Hand in hand the three Winchesters walked home.
Papa was certainly surprised. He cried again, which Claire teased him for, and then he made them all hamburgers. Jack tried to tell them about where they came from but something—magic maybe— made it come out all twisted, so they did what they had been doing for nearly thirteen years and shrugged it off.
Cas looked around at his family and, despite never knowing what really happened to his kids, he considered himself the luckiest man in the world.