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Dean and Cas had faced a lot of horrors in their lives, but absolutely nothing could have prepared them for their three-year-old’s temper tantrum. Jack had woken up from his nap, taken a short toddle around the bunker, then plopped down on the floor and started sobbing without warning.
Jack’s wails echoed through the bunker, a high-pitched, heart-wrenching cry that seemed to go on forever. It was the kind of cry that made Dean’s chest tighten with helplessness and Cas’s stomach churn with worry. Dean paced the kitchen, his fingers rubbing his temples while Cas knelt in front of their son, speaking in that calm, low tone that usually worked wonders.
“Jack,” Cas said gently, his hands resting lightly on Jack’s tiny shoulders. “Can you please tell Papa what’s wrong?”
Jack screamed louder in response, his little fists clenched at his sides as tears streamed down his reddened cheeks. His face was a deep shade of crimson, and his whole body seemed to shake with the force of his emotions. He kicked his feet, his movements wild and uncoordinated as his legs flailed frustration, his cries turning into breathless sobs.
“Come on, bud,” Dean tried, crouching next to Cas. “What is it? You hungry? Thirsty? Need to use the potty?”
But Jack’s only answer was more crying. He flipped over onto his belly, pounding his little fists against the cold concrete. Dean’s jaw clenched as he fought to keep his frustration in check. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand down his face. “He’s crying for no reason.”
“Dean,” Cas warned softly, his blue eyes flicking up to meet his husband’s. “He’s overwhelmed. We need to be patient.”
“Yeah, well, patience isn’t exactly my strong suit,” Dean shot back, though he immediately regretted the sharpness in his tone. Taking a deep breath, he knelt again, reaching out to touch Jack’s arm. “Hey, buddy, it’s okay. Whatever’s wrong, we’ll fix it, alright?”
Jack’s sobs didn’t lessen. If anything, they grew louder, and Dean felt his temper flare. He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly through his nose. He wasn’t going to yell. He wasn’t going to let this get to him. He wasn’t going to be like his dad and lash out or give Jack a complex that it wasn’t okay to cry.
Cas, meanwhile, looked as calm as ever on the outside, but Dean could see the faint crease between his brows, the way his shoulders were just a little too stiff. Cas reached out again, trying to smooth Jack’s tousled hair, but Jack twisted away, his cries turning into a distressed scream.
“Dean,” Cas said softly, rising to his feet. “Perhaps we should—”
The sound of the bunker door creaking open interrupted him. Both men turned to see Sam step inside, a duffel slung over his shoulder. His eyes widened at the sight of Jack on the floor, screaming his little lungs out, with his parents looking thoroughly defeated.
“What’s going on here?” Sam asked, setting his bag down.
“What’s it look like?” Dean grumbled, crossing his arms. “Jack’s having a meltdown, and we can’t figure out why.”
Sam raised an eyebrow, then crouched down next to Jack, reaching out to rest a hand on his back. As he did, Jack’s tear-filled eyes snapped up, and with a hiccupping gasp, he scrambled to his feet and ran straight into Sam’s arms.
“Uncle Sammy!” Jack sobbed, wrapping his little arms around Sam’s neck and holding on as if his life depended on it. Sam caught him easily, his big hands supporting Jack’s trembling body.
“Hey, buddy. What’s the matter?” Sam asked, his voice warm and soothing.
To Dean and Cas’s astonishment, Jack’s cries began to subside almost immediately. The little boy sniffled, burying his tear-streaked face against Sam’s chest. Within moments, Jack’s sobs turned to soft hiccups, and then he let out a contented sigh, nuzzling against Sam like a kitten.
“M-missed y-you,” he whimpered.
Dean stared, his mouth hanging open. “Are you kidding me? That’s all it took?”
Cas tilted his head, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Jack, honeybee, we could’ve called him for you.”
“N-not the same,” Jack pouted, hugging Sam tighter.
Sam brushed his hand through Jack’s curls. “I’ll always come back, bud. I promise.”
Jack clung to Sam like a koala, his big wet eyes looking up at him as his breathing evened out. “Stay with you,” Jack said quietly, not wanting to let go anytime soon.
“How about a story and some cuddles? I bet you’re a little sleepy after being so worked up, huh?” When Jack nodded, Sam looked over at Dean and Cas. “You two look like you could use a break. I’ve got him. Why don’t you two go out for dinner or something?”
Dean exchanged a look with Cas, who nodded. “That sounds like a good idea,” Cas said.
As Sam carried Jack off to the library, murmuring soft reassurances and rubbing Jack’s back, Dean let out a long breath and slumped into one of the kitchen chairs. He stared at the table for a moment, then let out a low chuckle. "Well, that was something," he muttered.
Cas sat beside him, his hand finding Dean’s and squeezing gently. "We did our best," he said quietly, his thumb brushing over Dean’s knuckles. "And Jack is safe and happy now."
Dean nodded, his expression softening as the tension began to fade. "Parenting’s a whole different kind of hard, isn’t it? But man, I wouldn’t trade it for the world."
Cas tilted his head, his lips curving into a small smile. "Neither would I. He’s worth every moment."
Dean smiled and leaned back in his chair. After a beat, he reached for Cas’s hand, tugging him up. "Alright, let’s not waste this golden opportunity. Burgers and pie?"
Cas chuckled softly, standing with him. "Lead the way."
As they walked toward the garage, Dean glanced over his shoulder, hearing the faint sound of Sam’s voice reading aloud. “You know,” he said, his voice softer now, “I never thought we’d be the kind of guys figuring out tantrums instead of salt lines.”
Cas gave him a small smile, his blue eyes warm. “And yet, here we are.”
As they climbed into the car and started to drive, Dean’s hand slipped across the bench and onto Cas’s thigh. “You ever think about how we got here? Like, this life, this kid... it’s not exactly what we planned, but it’s everything I didn’t know I needed.”
Cas paused, looking at Dean thoughtfully. “I think that’s what makes it so extraordinary. It wasn’t in the plan, but it became our purpose. He’s helping us heal and we’re giving him the life he deserves.”
Dean pulled into a nearby diner a few minutes later. “Alright, time recharge. Our own mini apocalypse might start again tomorrow if Sam so much as runs to the grocery store.”
“And we’ll face it together, just like we always do,” Cas said softly leaning over to kiss him tenderly.
“I never thought I’d get to live this life,” Dean said looking up at the stars as they headed toward the diner. “It’s so… simple.”
“Simplicity is a beautiful thing,” Cas agreed.
And as they stepped into the warmth of the diner, with its familiar smells and the soft hum of conversation, Dean knew that no matter what domestic chaos the future held, they would tackle it together and enjoy every second.