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Dean was surprisingly good at the dance pad game. Sam couldn’t stop staring. “Dude,” he kept saying.
His older brother stepped down, panting a little. “What? It’s just fighting in time to music. I always have a song running through my head when I fight anyway.”
“It’s not fighting. It’s dancing.”
Dean shrugged. “Not really. The screen tells you when to stomp on what. It’s using most of the same reflexes as a fight.”
“That does not explain your hips.”
Dean looked down and shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Fighting. Not dancing.”
The man was legendary at Dance, Dance Revolution. It blew Sam’s mind. To no one’s surprise, Sam was terrible at it. It only made it worse when Dean tried to coach him through it.
“No, left! Left, when the color-Sam, you gotta-“
“Stop talking to me!”
Castiel was worse than terrible. He simply stared at the screen for several seconds and then stepped off the pad. “No.”
Jack threw his hands up with a laugh. “No? What do you mean, no?”
“No,” Castiel reiterated with lifted eyebrows, and the discussion was over.
Dean and Jack dominated at Mario Kart. The entire time, Dean was cackling that Jack was so good because of his influence, and Sam and Castiel barely had a chance. It took some time, but Sam nearly caught up with the other two in rank. Castiel was dead last nearly every race, and Dean razzed him mercilessly and said that it only reinforced his decision to never allow Castiel behind the wheel of the Impala.
Sam finally had his moment during Wii Boxing. Even Dean had to concede that no one could touch his little brother’s skill. After the ninth time Sam came out on top, Dean sighed and stepped down. “That’s why I use a gun,” he muttered, and they all laughed.
Dean took back the spotlight when it came to Guitar Hero. As the only Winchester who had ever had even a modicum of musical training, Dean also had the advantage of knowing every single song they played already. Once he had learned the basics of the game, his scores were far higher than anyone else’s. Yet again, Castiel’s scores were at the bottom, every time.
“I suppose I am not equipped for any of these games,” he said to Jack in a quiet, apologetic tone. “I’m sorry if I haven’t been able to meet the expectations.”
Jack laughed. “Cas, I’m just so happy that you’re playing! That’s all I care about! This has been the best weekend of my life!”
Castiel gave him a doubtful expression. “Jack, you’re only just three years old, and most of your life has been spent in abject violence. Simply not being pursued by Heaven and Hell and every hunter on Earth makes it a good weekend.”
The boy shrugged. “But look at this! We’ve got pie and cookies and Sam even let me make marshmallow cereal treats, and we’re all playing games all day and all night! You guys agreed that for my birthday this weekend, you would play any game I could conjure up, so I spent days researching all the best party games! And every one of them has been amazing!”
“All the same, I am sorry I’m so bad at them all. Angels…we aren’t really made for play. Perhaps board games are more my speed.”
Jack patted his arm. “I’m just glad you’re playing with me, Cas,” he said again, and then he went back to setting up the next game while Sam and Dean finished another round of Mortal Kombat, breaking into laughter between them.
Sam caught Castiel smiling to himself when they were done, and he slipped an arm around the angel’s waist. “What are you smiling about?” he murmured.
Castiel turned his bright eyes on him then. “I’m just so pleased that you and Dean and Jack are enjoying yourselves so much. When I suggested that we let Jack conjure up some games for us to play, Dean rolled his eyes, and I got the impression you were just agreeing to it because it made Jack so excited. But you two really seem to be enjoying the games yourselves.”
He snickered and ducked his head a little sheepishly. “I don’t know. Dean and I never really got to do any of this stuff when we were kids. I mean, most of these games came out long after we were grown, but…but we would have liked them back then. And we never had any time to just…do kid stuff. So this is kind of fun for us too. I’m glad you thought of it. And I’m glad Jack found these games for it. They’re fun.”
“They’re complicated,” Castiel sighed. “I didn’t realize how bad at them I would be. But Jack says he doesn’t mind.”
Sam laughed and kissed his cheek. “You have many fine qualities. Mario Kart doesn’t have to be one of them.”
“Good thing, because he sucks,” Dean called. “Come on. Kid’s got something new over here.”
Jack was wearing a white virtual reality headset, and he was swatting at something only he could see with his hand controllers. There was music playing as well.
Sam’s eyes lit with interest. “Oh! I wanted to try one of those! What’s the game, Jack?”
The boy laughed and shook his head, taking off the headset. “It’s called Beat Saber. The colored boxes come at you and you have to slice at them with your sabers.”
Castiel lifted a brow. “You don’t have a saber. I have my angel blade, if that will help.”
He giggled. “No, Cas, these hand controls are what you use. The headset will show you what you need to see. Virtual reality.”
He sighed and turned to Dean. “I have enough trouble with real reality.”
Dean smirked at him. “Cutting things up? I got this. Show me, kid.”
It turned out that Dean was the one who had the most trouble with the virtual reality, which amused his brother to no end, and caused Castiel some sincere concern that Dean might hurt himself. Once the headset was on, Dean was stumbling about clumsily and swiping with his hands. He pulled it off almost immediately.
“That’s just messed up. I don’t like hearing things around me and not being able to see them, and seeing things that aren’t actually there. That’s…that’s disturbing. Give me something real to slice up, and I’m there. You can have your fake boxes.”
Sam just laughed at him and took the headset. “Okay, Jack. Show me how.”
The hunter had to admit that he agreed with his brother about virtual reality. For his part, it was more about constantly worrying that he was going to hit someone or trip over something. So he too gave up quickly.
“Sorry, Jack. I guess we’re not good with having our senses messed with. Our brains are rejecting it. Dean and I have had our reality screwed with too many times. We’re too paranoid to be good at this.”
Jack sighed. “That’s too bad. Cas?”
The angel shrugged. “I’m sure I will fail,” he began, but when he saw Jack’s face fall, he continued quickly, “but I would be happy to try. Success is not the point. The point is to have fun.”
His reward was a beaming nephilim.
He leaned in to Sam. “I suppose him being so happy is worth any humiliation related to failing comically at yet another of these party games. At least you all can enjoy my clumsy attempts at fun.”
Sam smiled sympathetic encouragement at him. “Go on.”
Jack explained again how to play, and Castiel shrugged. “I understand the concept. It’s the implementation that I will surely miscarry.”
Sam smirked. “Stop whining, angel,” he teased. He helped Castiel put on the headset.
Jack watched on the television screen. “Okay, Cas. Choose a song.”
“Does the song make a difference?”
“I mean…sort of. Just…choose one you might like.”
Castiel nodded, then had to pause to adjust the headset again when it slipped off. Then he went back to the song list. It took some navigating on Jack’s part to help him make his selection, and in the meantime, Dean helped himself to some pie and sat back on the couch to put his feet up. Sam noted his brother’s amused smirk, and nudged him. “Give him a chance.”
Dean simply snorted and said nothing, and prepared quite obviously for entertainment.
Castiel watched the red and blue blocks come at him while he stood completely still, until the words “Level Failed!” erupted on the screen.
“No, Cas, you have to-“
But Castiel cut off Jack’s instructions. “Thank you,” he said in a quiet tone. “I think I’ve figured it out now. I’d like it to play again. How do I make the blocks go?”
Dean was snickering into his pie.
Sam tried to pat Castiel on the shoulder, but the angel shook his head. “Sam, please stand back.”
They watched on their screen as Castiel toggled the game settings.
“No, Cas, that’s expert level,” Sam laughed. “I think we want easy mode.”
“Thank you, Sam,” he said in that same quiet tone, but he simply started the game again.
The opening notes of “Natural” by Imagine Dragons came blaring into the room Dean proudly called his Man Cave, and they all watched as Castiel dropped into a fight stance.
Sam’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, and even Dean sat up and leaned forward.
The cubes began sliding toward Castiel, who sliced through them one after another, at one point even turning all the way around like a dancer, and carving his way through the attacking squares like a horde of enemies on the battlefield. The others in the room stopped breathing as they watched, perfect incisions every time, and very slowly, all three turned from the screen to stare at Castiel himself.
His hands flew in the song’s rhythm, and Sam found himself watching those strong hands, the way he gripped the controller, and imagined an angel blade in each hand instead. He was abruptly reminded how very, very old Castiel was, how very, very long he had wielded a blade in defense and glory of Heaven.
Sam felt himself begin to smile softly.
Castiel was simply beautiful in a fight. Angels weren’t meant for play. They were meant for this.
He suddenly didn’t want Castiel to ever have to fight again. Let him use what he knew, what he excelled at, in harmless games, against faceless colored shapes. Let him show off for his son his many amazing talents, but in the safety of Dean’s room. Let him be the lethal thing he was always meant to be, but let him do it for the sake of fun and not to save the world.
Angels weren’t meant for play. But this angel had earned it, a thousand times.
Sam heard the song ending, heard Jack and Dean erupting with hoots and cheers of praise, and when the headset came off, leaving a sweaty red mark across the angel’s forehead, Sam basked in the pleased, crooked smile.
“I believe I did it correctly,” his lover announced coyly.
Sam pulled him by the hand into the hall and kissed him on the lips.
Castiel blinked up at him with surprise. “What was that for?”
“For playing,” Sam sighed. “For being yourself, and for playing.”
There was confusion on his face, but pleasure too. Castiel gazed up at him happily. “I’m only good at one thing, Sam. I’m just lucky that one of the games let me use that one thing.”
“You’re good at a lot more than that,” Sam promised, and kissed him again gently. “I hope we always make time to play.”
“For Jack,” Castiel clarified.
“For Jack. And for ourselves too.” He squeezed Castiel’s hand. “Come on. Dean and Jack can play their racing game, and you can do the saber game.”
“And what about you?”
He smiled. “I think I’ll have the most fun sitting back and watching you play.”
This seemed to fill Castiel with utter pleasure, and he grabbed Sam’s hand to pull him back into the room excitedly.
Sam laughed.