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At Lawrence Kindergarten, the young students were allowed to pick the colour of their book bag on their first day. Dean picked blue because it was his favourite colour. There were six other children in his class that also picked blue book bags. Though most of the children had their parents write their names on their bags, Dean wanted his to be kept clean and tidy.
Lots of other children wrote on their bags and drew pictures and stuck colourful stickers on them to personalise them, Dean’s remained spotless. Dean’s best friend, Castiel, also had a really clean book bag. His mother didn’t let him write over what she deemed school property, saying “Things like this must be looked after, Castiel, or you won’t be able to have new things.” He listened and kept his bag clean, too.
On one particular day, Dean and Castiel had been doing different activities. Dean chose to play with the Lego that his teacher had spread out on the floor in one corner of the classroom, and Castiel chose to do some art with the paint that his teacher had placed on a table off to the side.
Dean made a car out of the Lego. “Look Miss Harvelle! It’s my daddy’s car!” He exclaimed excitedly.
“Oh, wow, look at that!” His teacher praised.
“Can… Can I take it home?”
“Sure, honey. Put it in your book bag. Just remember to bring it back tomorrow so that the other children can play with the Lego.”
“Thanks!” Dean scuttled off to the back of the classroom and put it in his book bag, careful not to break his precious creation.
-x-
Over in the other corner of the classroom, Castiel had been busy with every colour paint available. There were a variety of handprints and fingerprints, smudges and smears all over the paper… and his hands, and his face, too.
“Finished!” Castiel called, looking up from where his nose had been practically touching the paint covered paper in concentration. Mr. Fitzgerald, or as the children called him, Mr. Fitz, was the teaching assistant and came over to have a look at Castiel’s work.
“That’s great, Castiel.” He praised.
“Would you like me to pin it up to dry?” Castiel nodded enthusiastically.
“Okay, then we can get you washed up. You’ve got paint everywhere!” He chuckled as Castiel held out his hands in front of him to inspect the painted mess that covered both the back and front of his hands. Castiel passed the wet painting to Mr. Fitz and then watched as the man hung it up to dry next to another child’s painting.
“Come on, Castiel, let’s get you washed up.”
The little boy followed the assistant teacher out to the boy’s bathroom where he helped him in removing all the paint from his hands, and then he made sure to wipe his face with a baby wipe to remove the colourful blotches off his face, too.
“There we go! Good as new!” Mr Fitz commented with a kind smile.
“Good as new.” Castiel repeated, imitating the smile. “Can I go and play now?”
“Of course.”
Castiel all but ran from the bathroom to go and find Dean.
-x-
Near the end of the day, when they begin packing up, Mr. Fitzgerald called Castiel over to collect his dry painting.
“Go put it in your book bag. Then, you can show your mom and dad when you get home.” Castiel did as he was told and then went back to sit down on the carpet in front of Miss Harvelle for their end of the day talk.
“Did we all have a good day?” She asked, receiving excited yes’s in return.
“Wonderful, and what have we all done today?” Several small hands shot up into the air including Dean and Castiel’s.
Her gaze fell to green eyes and spiky brown-blonde hair. “Dean, what did you do?”
“I build a car outta Lego and it looks like my daddy’s car.”
“Well done, Dean. It was a very good car!” She encouraged. Dean grinned and looked over to his best friend who still had his hand up, straining to get it the highest.
“Okay…” Miss Harvelle smiled at Castiel’s effort. “Castiel? What did you do?”
“I made a painting, but I didn’t use a brush. I used my hands and put different colour hands on my paper and a big red one in the middle!” He burst out excitedly, taking a few calming breaths afterwards.
“Wow! That sounds very impressive, Castiel!” She asked a couple more children how their day went before concluding with asking them to go and put their coats on and collect their book bags.
It was a mad scramble to get at the book bags; they were piled at the back of the classroom. Dean grabbed his clean blue one and Castiel grabbed his. Once all the children were ready to go, Miss Harvelle took them outside to meet their parents with Mr. Fitzgerald taking up the back of the group to make sure no-one was left behind.
Few by few, the children spotted their parents. Castiel caught sight of his mom stood by the gate, too.
“Miss Harvelle, there’s my mommy!”
“Off you go then. See you tomorrow, Castiel.” She waved him off cheerfully. He paused halfway across the playground to turn around and wave back, and then wave especially at Dean.
The green-eyed boy stood, waiting patiently, with the last three children, and when parents began to disappear with their kids into cars and walking down the road, he saw his dad waiting with a pram in front of him.
“Miss! There’s my daddy and my brother Sammy!”
“Okay, Dean. See you tomorrow. Remember to bring the Lego back.” She reminded and let him run off to his dad and brother, following the line of little sprinting legs to make sure he reached them safely.
-x-
Later that evening, after they had their dinner and little Sammy was sleeping, Dean asked if he could show his parents what he made today.
“Of course, sweetie. Your bag is by the door.” Mary said. Dean jumped up and went to get it, opening the bag up as he came back into the living room, eager to get the Lego structure out.
There was a quiet pause in the ruffling before Dean’s smile crumpled. “Mommy! It’s gone! I built a car that looks like daddy’s car and it’s gone!” He cried, bag falling to his side, tears threatening to make an appearance.
“Oh honey, it’s okay.” Mary knelt down in front of her son and had looked through the bag methodically, until she pulled out a painting with handprints all over it.
“Is this yours Dean?” She asked, a little confused herself. Dean shook his head. She turned over the painting to see the letters C A S written on the back in big, dark letters.
“Oh look! Here’s why. You’ve brought Castiel’s bag home instead.” She smiled at him, putting the painting back into the bag, sealing the Velcro back up and wiping away her son’s tears.
“But I wanted to show you my car.” Dean protested, crossing his arms, a scowl appearing on his face.
“I know, sweetheart, tomorrow morning when we see Cas’ mom, we can swap your bags back over and then you can show me the car before you go into school. Does that sound okay?” Dean nodded reluctantly and Mary pulled him in for a big hug.
“Alright, now why don’t you run upstairs and get your pyjamas on, then we can get you to bed, huh?”
“’kay. Can I say goodnight to Sammy?” He asked, perking up a bit.
“Once your pyjamas are on you can.” Dean smiled and ran up the stairs to his bedroom to get his pyjamas on.
-x-
The next morning had Dean waiting eagerly by the door, holding the edge of Sammy’s pram with the one-year-old babbling to himself inside.
“We’re going in soon, Sammy, and I can get my car back from Cas and show mommy what I made. I can show you too, Sammy!” Sam just gurgled and smiled as Dean spoke.
“Let’s go then, Dean.” Mary pushed the pram out of the door and they made their way to Lawrence Kindergarten.
Once they were there, Mary saw Amelia – Castiel’ mother – just as she was arriving and called her over to swap the book bags.
“Morning, Amelia.” She greeted. “It appears that Dean and Castiel got their book bags mixed up yesterday.”
“Yeah, Castiel was in tears last night thinking someone had taken his painting.” She told her. Mary hummed in agreement.
“We had the same, tears over the Lego car Dean built.”
“Ah, yes, the car, it was very good. Castiel told me that it looks like John’s car.”
“Supposedly.” She laughed. “Here.” Mary handed over Castiel’s book bag to Amelia who passed it along to Castiel.
Castiel opened it up. “MY PAINTING!” He shouted, grinning giddily. Mary handed Dean his book bag and he also wasted no time opening it up and reaching inside for the Lego car.
“DADDY’S CAR!” he exclaimed, happiness evident in his expression.
The two boys grinned at each other.
“Mommy, look, see it’s daddy’s car.”
“Wow! It’s great, Dean!” She told him. Sammy squealed in agreement from the pram.
Dean crouched down a little, facing his brother. “Look, Sammy, it’s our daddy’s car!” A simple gurgle and a smile in response was all Dean needed and he was grinning again.
“Dean? You can have this.” Castiel said, holding out the painting.
“Thank you, Cas.” He took the painting from Castiel and turned to his mom. “Look what Cas gave me! I’m gonna paint Cas a picture today, too!”
“That sounds wonderful, Dean, shall I take this back home?” Dean nodded and handed the picture to his mom.
“C’mon Cas. Let’s go!” Dean cheered. He held out his hand to his best friend, who took it, and they wandered into the school together.
-x-
23 years later.
“Hey, Cas?” Dean shouted standing on the ladder and sticking his head into the loft.
“Yeah?” Castiel responded, coming up the stairs of their new house, their first proper house together. Dean ducked his head out the space and passed a box back down to Castiel.
It had been opened.
“So, I got a bit nostalgic when I saw the label on the box and had a look through.” Dean half smiled watching from the ladder as Castiel set the box on the floor carefully and opened it back up. Inside was a clean blue book bag.
“Oh! This is your book bag from kindergarten. You still have it!” Castiel smiled and looked up at Dean.
“Yeah, even better, look inside.” He encouraged, and grinned as he watched him open it and pull out the contents. Various pictures, drawings and notes came out, along with one painting. One with a red handprint in the middle. Dean heard Castiel gasp.
“You… You kept this?” He questioned, looking up with wide blue eyes.
“Course I did, you painted it for me, right?” Castiel just nodded, running his fingers over the old paint wistfully.
“My hands were so small.” He remarked, placing a hand over the red handprint.
“Cas, you were like six.” Dean reminded him and climbed down, stepping off the bottom rung carefully.
“Have I told you how much I love you?” Castiel stood up from the floor so they were face-to-face.
“Well, you did marry me a month ago.”
“Twenty-seven days, actually.”
“Mmm.” Dean cut off his correction and kissed him, one hand snaking round the back of Castiel’s neck and the other settling around his back.
“I’m counting, Dean.” Castiel said when they pulled back a little.
“Of course you are.” Dean replied teasingly before Castiel kissed him again, letting his hands cup Dean’s face as Dean’s hands made their way up Castiel’s t-shirt.
“Your hands are cold.” Castiel mumbled.
“Best leave them here then to warm them up.” Dean mumbled back, lips catching against Castiel’s.
“Fine.” Castiel pulled back a little to scowl at him.
Dean couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lips. “That scowl’s not changed in the 25 years I’ve known you.”
“Shut up and keep kissing me.”
“I can definitely do that.” Dean dived back in, kissing Castiel gently while walking him to their bedroom, careful of Dean’s old book bag on the floor.