Chapter Text
Castiel casts a glance around the vast fields. There’s a barn in the distance that’s still in working condition. It needs a fresh layer of paint, but the red wood and white trim are a picture-perfect reflection of the barns in the story books Jack likes so much. He looks back at the worn-down farmhouse that sits in the middle of the property—a shabby wooden house with large windows along the front. They’ll get a lot of sunlight. There’s a front porch that Castiel can imagine will be perfect for a swinging bench.
The late autumn air is cold and the grounds are barren for now, but Castiel can see the potential.
It’s perfect.
He grips Jack’s hand tightly, prompting the young god to look up at him.
“What do you think, Jack?” Castiel asks, kneeling down to meet his eyes. He points at a fenced portion of the front yard. “I think that part of the yard over there would be perfect for a small playground.”
Jack’s face lights up. “A playground? Just for me?”
Castiel nods with a gentle smile. “Yes. It’s perfect.”
*****
After Castiel was rescued from the Empty, he wasn’t sure what the next chapter in his life held. Despite his life-altering realization and confession, his relationship with Dean remained at a careful distance, with Dean seeming to keep him at arm’s length. Castiel figured that Dean was still processing Castiel’s confession, unsure of what the appropriate distance between them was, now that his feelings were out in the open. He won’t deny it was painful at first, but he was willing to give Dean the time and space he needed to work through his thoughts.
Castiel still found happiness in their daily interactions—small moments that signaled a sense of normalcy—but more and more, he found himself yearning for an answer that he never thought he needed, nor did he ever expect to receive. (He thought he would be in eternal darkness, after all.)
The Winchesters still hunted (small cases, now that order in the world seems to have been restored), but Castiel had to give up his grace to leave the Empty. While he’s grateful for this new chance at life, he no longer felt the hunt was where he was needed or most useful. The fighter within him was gone, and he wasn’t sure what to do next.
The answer came in the form of an unexpected visitor.
It was late spring—Castiel remembers how abnormally cold it was that day. Amara showed up unannounced, dressed impeccably as usual in a white suit, with her hair whipping in the wind. A young boy, who looked to be no older than five, clung to her. When Castiel stepped out of the Bunker and their blue eyes met, everything clicked into place.
Jack.
Until Jack came of age and was ready to lead, Castiel was to raise him and keep him safe—to guide him—so that he could be the best god he was able to be. It was an immense undertaking, but Castiel had once found his purpose in being a father. With Jack back with him, it all made sense. Jack gave Castiel’s aimless soul a direction.
Direction, which led him to their farm.
*****
“You did what?” Dean squawks.
“I bought a farm,” Castiel replies evenly.
Sam’s eyebrows look like they might pop right off his forehead, while Eileen just blinks at him, stunned.
“It’s so cool!” Jack pipes up from next to Castiel, flailing his arms wildly as he tries to explain how cool the farm is. He shows them the farm animal toys that Castiel got him the day they purchased the farm. “There’s a big barn! And we’ll have pigs! And horses! And cows! And Castiel says I can have a playground, just for me!” His eyes sparkle as the words stumble out of him.
“It isn’t very far from the Bunker, so I hope you will visit often.” Castiel can’t help how his glance darts to Dean. He makes a conscious effort to stay carefully neutral, addressing all three of them.
“But why?” Sam asks.
Castiel is prepared for the question. He holds Sam’s gaze and replies. “I’m not of much use here without my grace—”
“That’s bullshit, Cas, and you know it,” Dean interjects, but Castiel doesn’t let it faze him.
“It’s not. Of course there are ways I can still help, but when Amara showed up with Jack, I realized that my purpose lies beyond these walls. I want Jack to learn about the world—about life—beyond just monsters and hunting. I want him to learn of the beauty that the world has to offer. What better way to learn about life than through nurturing life itself?”
The library is silent aside from the sound of Jack playing with his farm animal toys.
“You don’t need me here anymore,” Castiel says gently.
*****
They move out less than a week later. Thankfully the move isn’t too difficult; Castiel never had much in terms of personal belongings in the Bunker, and they’ve only managed to gather the bare necessities for Jack during the few months since he started living with them.
Still, Dean insists on driving them out to the farm to check it out.
Castiel doesn’t say anything as he fastens Jack into the booster seat in the back. Jack’s used to the routine by now, but his excited wiggling makes the process challenging.
“Can Sam and Eileen visit us soon? Will Dean stay with us too? What animals will we get first? Can we get a dog? Can we bring Miracle?” He rattles off questions without waiting for an answer, but Castiel still tries to answer them all patiently. (“Of course.” “No he isn’t staying.” “Perhaps some chickens.” “Maybe.” “Just to visit.”)
Dean watches them through the rearview mirror with those piercing green eyes. Castiel wishes he would say something.
Sam and Eileen were quick to understand and lend their support. They helped Castiel research the basics of farming, and helped him order some essentials online so that the house would be stocked by the time they move in. They also promised to visit during the next month to help them settle in.
Dean, on the other hand, hasn’t warmed up to the idea at all. He spent the whole week brooding and giving Castiel the cold shoulder. When Castiel tried to explain himself further, he was quickly shut down by a curt “I get it,” and nothing more. Sam tried to talk to him as well, to no avail. But when Castiel needed a ride on moving day (his truck at the farm still doesn’t have a booster seat installed), Dean surprised everyone by volunteering to be the one to drive Castiel and Jack to their new home.
Most of the drive is occupied by Jack chattering from the backseat. He asks a barrage of questions (he retained his innate curiosity, even as a child), but eventually gets bored and quiets down, staring out the windows.
Before Castiel can fill the silence by speaking, Dean turns on the radio.
Silence it is, then. Castiel sighs as he, too, gazes out the window.
Soon, townscapes turn into landscapes, houses become few and far between, and Dean’s pulling into the long driveway that will lead up to their new home.
Dean leans over the steering wheel, taking in the view as he slows down to drive over the unavoidable potholes. “Damn. It’s an actual farm, huh.”
“That’s what I told you.” Castiel squints over at Dean.
“Yeah, I guess I didn’t realize how… farm-ey it would be.” There’s a hint of emotion in the voice that Castiel can’t place. It doesn’t sound angry, which Castiel takes as a win.
He nods. “Well, it’s a farm. I’ve gotten in touch with another local farmer who’s willing to sell us some chickens. The coop needs a few repairs, but I hope to get to those this weekend.”
Dean hums in acknowledgement and parks next to Castiel’s small pickup truck.
“We’re here!” Jack announces from the back, making a decent attempt to shake the Impala with his enthusiastic bouncing.
“Yeah, yeah, calm your butt, kid!” Dean laughs over his shoulder. “Let’s get you out of that thing.” He gets out and rounds the car to let Jack out.
Castiel collects their luggage as Dean does that. He looks up just as he’s finishing up, and his heart clenches in his chest.
Dean is lifting Jack out of his seat. The two of them are sporting matching grins, looking carefree and happy in front of their brand new home. This life, with Jack and Dean—it’s everything Castiel could ever want.
He quickly shakes his head to dispel the thought. This move from the Bunker was supposed to distract Castiel from his yearning.
“Thank you, Dean,” he says, pulling out the last of their luggage out of the trunk.
Dean looks over, placing Jack onto the ground. Jack goes running up to the front porch. “You need help with that?”
“If you could just help bring it to the door, I’ve got it from there.”
Dean looks like he wants to say something, brows furrowing for a moment, but he seems to think better of it and nods.
When all their luggage is at the door, Dean takes a look around the entryway and cocks his head. “You and Jack will be safe here?”
Castiel chuckles. “We’ll be sure to keep all the wards up to date.”
Dean lingers awkwardly, like he’s unsure of what to do next.
“I’ll call you once we’re settled. I hope you’ll visit—I know Sam and Eileen are planning on coming soon. I hope you will, too.” He doesn’t tell Dean that he daydreams of Dean’s visits turning into something more permanent.
Dean scratches at his neck. “Yeah, sure thing, Cas.”
“Well, then…” Castiel looks around, failing to think of another reason to keep Dean here any longer. “Jack, come say bye to Dean,” he calls out to the second floor.
“Wait wait wait wait wait!” Jack shouts from upstairs and comes stomping down the stairs as quickly as he can. He runs up to Dean and wraps his tiny arms around Dean’s legs. “Bye Dean!”
Dean laughs and ruffles Jack’s fluffy hair. (There’s that clench in Castiel’s chest again.)
“I’ll see you soon, buddy.”
“Will you bring Miracle with you when you visit next time?” Jack asks, looking up at Dean with his best puppy-dog eyes.
“Oh is that all you want from me? My dog?” He tickles Jack’s waist, and the child squeals gleefully.
“Stoooooop,” he shrieks, wiggling away.
“I’ll bring Miracle, don’t you worry.” Dean winks at Jack, and after sparing one final glance and a two-fingered salute at Castiel, he walks out to the driveway.
Castiel wishes he would have asked him to stay for dinner.
“That was reckless and you know it, Dean.” Sam throws his hands up with an exasperated huff.
Dean grunts as he rinses off his fresh cut. “We ganked the thing, didn’t we?” His quip doesn’t seem to entertain Sam, whose frown just grows deeper. With a sigh, Dean tries again. “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”
“So you’ve said,” Sam says, rolling his eyes. “Dean. It’s been a month.”
A month.
Miracle runs over to Dean’s feet, tail wagging. Dean scratches at his floppy ears, pointedly ignoring Sam’s accusatory stare. It’s been a month since Cas and Jack left the Bunker. Dean still remembers the moment Cas sat them down to tell them that he’d gone out and purchased a fucking farm, of all things. He remembers the shock he felt (the betrayal), the anger (the fear)—they had just gotten Cas back, and now they were losing him again.
He was supposed to stay. (Dean was supposed to ask him to stay.)
When Dean rescued Cas from the Empty, he thought it meant they had time. Time to figure out whatever the fuck they were doing. Whatever the fuck they meant to each other. Cas had said he loved him—Dean was supposed to have the rest of his life to show Cas that he could be worthy of that love.
Then Jack happened, and it felt like one final puzzle piece falling into place. The makeshift family they had built, back together with another chance to make things better.
But Cas got a farm. A fucking farm in the middle of nowhere.
Dean thinks he gets it, wanting to show Jack something other than hunting. Something wholesome, nurturing, and loving. Hell, Dean knows better than anyone what growing up around the hunt can do to a kid. Still, there’s a dark whisper in his ear that keeps telling him that it wasn’t for Jack.
What if Cas changed his mind?
What if he doesn’t want to be around you anymore?
Dean can’t shake the devil in his ear.
“Listen, I know I’ve been… distracted.” He sighs. “But they’re simple hunts. I’ve got this.”
Sam shakes his head. “Maybe they’re simple, but if you keep making stupid moves like that, you could still get hurt.” His voice softens as he continues. “Is this about Cas?”
Dean barely manages not to flinch at the mention of Cas’ name. “What about him?”
“They’re doing fine, Dean. They seem happy, even,” Sam says, gently.
Shockingly, that doesn’t ease the pain.
“They miss you,” Sam adds. “And I don’t care what you say, I know you miss them, too.”
The veiled accusation stings. Sam and Eileen have gone to visit Cas and Jack at the farm a few times over the past month, but Dean hasn’t been able to bring himself to do so. He knows he’s being stubborn—cowardly, even.
“Yeah, well, they left.” He crosses his arms and sinks into his chair.
Sam hesitates before he starts again. “What if—”
“What, Sammy?” Dean cuts him off, frustration seeping through his voice.
“Do you think it might be time? I mean, you talked about it. Before it all went down.”
Dean stills. Sam’s words are delivered carefully, as if he’s worried he might spook Dean if he approaches him too quickly. Clearly he’s given this plenty of thought.
Sam takes Dean’s silence as a cue to keep talking. “It might not be the ocean, there’s no sand to sink your toes into, but you could live with them on the farm—”
“Why would they want me?” Dean grits out. He hates how bitter he sounds.
“What?” Sam asks, clearly surprised. (To be fair, the honesty surprises even Dean.)
“They could’ve stayed. They didn’t want this, Sam.” Dean waves his hand around, gesturing vaguely at everything around them. “They didn’t want us.”
Sam’s brows furrow. “You can’t possibly believe that.”
Dean shrugs. He doesn’t know what else to say.
“Dean. It isn’t about us, it’s about raising Jack away from the hunt.” Sam’s voice is firm, but not unkind.
“Okay, and if I go there, I bring the hunt to them.” Dean rolls his eyes.
“Not if you retire,” Sam says with conviction this time.
“Reti—I don’t—” Dean stutters. He knew this was where Sam was taking it. Still, the words leave his brain coming up short.
“There’s a new generation of hunters now, and not as many complex cases. If anything large comes up, Eileen and I can triage from the Bunker. You’ve more than earned it, Dean,” Sam explains. He grips at Dean’s shoulder. “If your heart’s not in it anymore—if you know where you really want to be—then maybe it’s time.”
If you know where you really want to be.
Dean’s shock morphs into a frustrated knot in his stomach.
A pained grimace spreads across his face. “What good would I be, Sam? After a life like ours? How am I supposed to help raise a fucking god?”
Sam scoffs. “Seriously? You practically raised me. I may not be perfect, but I’d say I turned out okay.” He shoots Dean a crooked grin.
Dean can’t help the huff of laughter that escapes him. “Well you made it easy.”
Sam smiles, but doesn’t respond. The “So?” is obvious in his stare.
Dean groans. “What even makes you think he wants me there, Sam? He left. He didn’t ask any of us to go with him.”
“Maybe he doesn’t know you’d want to be there with him. Does he know how you feel?” Sam challenges.
Of course he does.
The words are on the tip of Dean’s tongue. He saved Cas from the Empty, didn’t he? He wanted him around. He tried to show him how valued he was. Cas has got to know.
Dean stills, recalling every time he channeled his feelings (his love) into his actions.
He has to know.
Sam stands up, sensing the end of the conversation. He pats Dean on the shoulder a few times. “You might want to try using your words for a change.”
He earns a smack to the head for that one.
*****
Baby’s parked at the start of the long dirt driveway that still has as many potholes as the first day he drove Cas and Jack here. Dean leans against the steering wheel, leg jiggling, unable to find it in him to finish driving the final stretch.
Miracle sits in the passenger seat. His tail wags as he watches Dean expectantly, like he knows they’re in for a treat once Dean gets his shit together and takes them there. Dean reaches out to scratch him behind his ear. Miracle’s tail does an excited flip.
“What do you think, buddy? You think they’ll be happy to see us?” Dean asks. Miracle just burrows into Dean’s side, eliciting a huff of laughter. “Alright, alright. Worst case I’ll say we brought you to see Jack, how about that?”
Miracle barks once as if to respond. It’s all the nudging Dean needs, and he puts the car into drive.
Cas must have heard them coming.
By the time Dean pulls up to the old farmhouse, next to the tiny pickup truck, Cas is standing on the front porch. Jack is next to him, holding his hand and looking like he’s about ready to burst out of his skin. He sports a wide grin on his face, which only spreads further when he sees Miracle’s shadow in the passenger seat. Dean sees him ask Cas, “Can I go now?” before Cas finally lets go, and Jack comes darting up to the car.
Cas stays put, tilting his head at him. There’s an unreadable question in his sky-blue eyes.
This is it. The moment of truth. Cas will know, when Dean tells him why he’s here. (How could he not?)
He’s done with the hunt, letting it all go, because this—watching Jack grow up in a house (hopefully) full of life, with Cas by his side—it’s what he wants.
And he hopes with everything in him that Cas wants it, too.
Here goes nothing. Dean steels himself before stepping out of the car.
“Hey, Cas.”