Chapter Text
Cassie's POV
I stood in front of the mirror as I redid my hair for the millionth time. I was wearing a small, black dress – smaller than I would've liked, but Lia has a way of persisting.
"You need to get out of the house. You haven't been on a date since Ashlyn was born." Ashlyn, my daughter, was almost three years old, and according to Sloane, "2 years, 9 months and 28 days, was far too long for no alone time ."
My gaze flicked back to the mirror as I grabbed my lipstick to apply another coat. I looked over myself one last time, smoothed my dress, and started to walk down the stairs.
"You ready, Cass," Dean hollered up the stairs, but the holler was more of a whisper because he was holding our daughter.
I stood on the stairs for a moment taking in the scene of Dean, the same person who, as a teenage boy thought he was a monster, incapable of love because of his father, now rocking our daughter.
"Hey, baby," I said, voice gentle, as Ashlyn grabbed for me.
"Mama, I's go too," she said as she rested her head on my chest.
My heart ached for her. Even though I had been away from her before – cases and such – I still hated leaving her. Ashlyn's small hands grabbed my dress as if she was begging me not to go.
"Come on, darling," Dean said, "Let's get in the car," as he took Ashlyn from me. I winced slightly, which reminded me I was getting older. I slipped on my high heels and walked out to the car where Dean was already strapping Ashlyn into her car seat.
"Mama, where we goin',"
"Mama and Dada are going to dinner and you are going to Aunt Francesca."
"Cesca? Who'd that?"
"She is my cousin and you will have so much fun, okay?"
"And Mama and Dada will be back after dinner. We always come back, remember?" Dean cut in. I gave him a soft smile and got in the car. After a few minutes of driving and countless glances from Dean, he broke the silence.
"You look good, Cass," Dean murmured, "really good."
"Keep your eyes on the road. We have a baby in the car."
"She's not really a baby anymore is she."
I gave him a small, sad smile and he squeezed my hand as we pulled into my cousin's driveway.
"Why no Ronnie Judd," Ashlyn suddenly asked. Both Veronica and Judd were busy as well as the other Naturals. I wished they were available, but my cousin would do just fine for one evening. My PTSD told me not to trust her, but the fear was irrational. Years in therapy helped a lot, but there were still underlying feelings in my gut.
"Okay!" Ashlyn responded to her father, and I realized I had missed an entire conversation.
Dean looked at me and said, "I'm going to take her inside. You wanna come?"
I realized he was already outside of the car holding Ashlyn. "Come Mama! Come!"
"Okay baby I'm coming," I said as I got out of the car, and Dean shifted Ashlyn over to me. We walked up to the front door, my heels clicking on the stone, Dean's cologne wafting in the air, and Ashlyn's warm breath on my neck. Dean rang the doorbell and after a few moments of silence Francesca opened the door.
"Cassie! Come in! Come in!" she said warmly. Ashlyn then took off running into the house, and Dean and I followed. Dean made conversation with Francesca while I watched Ashlyn; however, I couldn’t help but profile Francesca.
You are delighted to have Ashlyn here. Your husband left you a few years ago when you found out you couldn’t have kids. You take any chance to be around kids. It fills a space you don’t talk about.
After a few minutes Dean checked the time, and gestured to me that we should go.
“Ashlyn, darling,” Dean said, kneeling to her height.
“It’s time for us to go, baby,” I said.
“Okay! Bye-Bye!” she said, as she tried to go back to play. Dean scooped her up, as he spun her in the air. He kissed her forehead and gave her a hug.
“Go give your mama a hug, okay. She's going to miss you a lot,” he whispered in her ear when he thought I wasn't listening.
She ran up to me with her chubby arms wrapping around my neck as I caught her in my arms.
“Bye-Bye Mama,” she said, her bright red curls everywhere. I slowly put her down and my gaze lingered as she ran back to play as Dean and I headed toward the door.
“Come on, Cass. She’ll be okay,” Dean said, as he lightly grabbed my arm and guided me toward the door. We walked to the car, hands intertwined, his thumb rubbing small circles on my hand.
***
The car ride was quiet, just filled with small reassurances from Dean.
You know I’m paranoid. You know my history. You want me to have some peace of mind. A little bit of time where my mind quiets. You know my mind has been on high alert since Ashlyn was born.
“Cass. Cassie. Cassandra.” Dean said, as he snapped me out of my trance.
“We’re here,” he said gently.
I looked at the restaurant and said, “Dean, this is too much. This place is really nice”
“You deserve it, Cass,” he said as we walked inside. We greeted the hostess and she led us to our table. Dean pulled my chair out for me.
“Always with the southern hospitality,” I said, and he just kissed my forehead.
I opened the menu and visibly cringed at the prices, which he of course noticed.
“Hey, it’s okay. We have enough savings. You can take sometimes, Cass. You just give and give all the time.”
I rolled my eyes at him, trying to brush off what he said and he kissed my hand in response. A few moments later the waitress came to take our order.
“I’ll have the caesar salad please.”
“And for a drink?” She asked.
“Water will be fine,” I replied.
“What she means is she’ll have the steak and a glass of Cabernet ”
“Dean,” I hissed as I slapped his arm, “I don’t need all that.”
The waitress was getting noticeably confused, so I gave in and accepted that Dean would make me indulge for once.
After the waitress left, I gave him a look that had made serial killers flinch, and he just smiled.
“One glass of wine is 28 dollars. We’re spending 28 dollars for 5 ounces of wine,” I said completely serious. He, however, did not return the seriousness.
“Where did you get that statistic,” he said, biting back a laugh, “Sloane?”
“Stop laughing at me,” I said, cheeks red with embarrassment, “I’m trying to be a responsible parent like the adult I am.”
He didn't answer me, he just grabbed my hand from across the table and kissed it once again.
My gaze got far away as I started to think about when Dean and I first started to date.
“What’s going on in that pretty mind of yours,” he interrupted.
“Nothing,” I said, resolute, but he gave me a look.
“Okay, I was just thinking about when we were teenagers, and you were so closed off and you would just punch holes in the wall and make your knuckles bleed. Or after the Masters case and I was mentally wrecked and you were always there,” I reminisced, and he returned it with a nostalgic look. He slowly cupped my face with his hands and kissed me. A gentle kiss, the one I longed for at 17 and get every morning now. Soon after our food arrived, and the conversation slowed as we ate.
***
“This is the same person who wanted a salad," Dean remarked, smirking, as I devoured my food.
“Okay you were right,” I said, and I continued to eat my food, until I noticed Dean glancing at his phone.
You miss her. You’re worried about her. You keep checking your phone expecting an update.
It was my turn to take his hand now.
“It will be okay. I trust Francesca, and Ashlyn’s a smart girl.”
“Okay, you’re right,” he said, “We really need to stop thinking about the worst case scenario."
“Yeah,” I laughed, “what happened to the carefree teenagers who were chasing killers.”
“Hey, I never wanted to chase the killers. That's all you and the others,” he said, defending himself.
“Yeah? What about the time you threatened 30 law enforcement officers to get into an active crime scene.”
“And what was the reason for that?” he questioned, smirking like he was aware he'd already won.
“Me. It’s always me,” I said.
“Who said anything about you? I’m talking about my other girlfriend.”
“Wow, your jokes really have gotten worse as a dad”
“I’m wounded, Cassie. Really.”
I then checked the time.
9:00 P.M.
“We should go,” I said, “Ashlyn’s probably getting restless.”
“Okay. You can go wait in the car while I pay the check.”
***
The entire drive I had a gut feeling that something was wrong, but I blamed my trauma on it and moved on, and then I saw my cousin’s house with all the lights off. Dean and I stood by the front door, I watched as he rang the doorbell for what felt like the thousandth time. I gave up on ringing the doorbell and knocked on the door loudly, with the authority of an FBI agent who knew what she was doing.
“Dean,” I said sharply, “can you kick the door open.”
“Cass…”
“Kick the door open. Dean, no one is answering. I would do it but I’m wearing heels.”
“Fine,” he said, as I drew my gun.
The door opened with a bang, and I looked around, nothing. The room was demolished, things thrown everywhere. Dean was looking through one side of the house, while I was looking through the other, but he noticed when I suddenly froze at the sight of blood on Ashlyn’s destroyed stuffed animal.
“Cassie, what did you find?”
I was unable to speak, but he figured it out soon enough.
Ashlyn wasn’t here and I wasn’t going to stop until I found out who took her.