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"Daaaaads!"
Dean winces at the shriek that pierces his eardrums, like they're about to bleed. It's impossible to not notice how much she sounds like Anna, but it doesn't make Dean's chest hurt like it did when she was younger, when Anna's death was fresher in their minds, and their shared mannerisms suddenly became more pronounced.
"In here, 'Strid!" he shouts back and he hears the front door shut and the thundering of a fourteen-year-old girl racing through the house in boots. She lurches to a stop in the kitchen doorway but is shoved through by Jesse who can't stop in time. Dean laughs and she scowls at him but it only makes him laugh harder. "How was school, baby girl?"
"Dad, don't call me that," Astrid whines, flopping dramatically onto a kitchen chair. Dean catches Jesse's eye, and Jesse rolls his eyes at Astrid. Dean smirks to himself.
"I'll call you what I wanna call you. What's up? You talk to Papa today?"
"No, I thought he'd be home by now," Astrid says.
"You know your father, kiddo," he says, getting the olive oil out of the cabinet and lighting the stove. "He'll be home soon, though."
"Me and Astrid wanna go to a book signing," Jesse chimes in. Dean glances at them.
"Oh yeah? Didn't think you were reading, 'Strid."
"I'm always reading, Dad," Astrid says, sounding very dignified.
"Wasn't what's-his-name not into smart girls, or something?" Dean says. "Andy, or something?"
"He's dating that Tessa chick or something," Jesse says. "She was talking about it in homeroom."
"Anyway, it's Carver Edlund. He writes those sci-fi novels? He's gonna be at Barnes and Noble this weekend. Can we go? Please?"
"My dad's already said he'd take us if you or Mr. Milton can't," Jesse says. Dean finally faces them, thinking. Astrid's making puppy-dog eyes that Sam totally taught her, the bastard, and Jesse just looks so damn hopeful.
"Lemme talk to Cas, okay?"
***
Cas is just thrilled that Astrid's actually reading again (nobody liked Andy) and agreed immediately. Dean told Paul that he didn't need to go, they'd take them. Sam somehow caught wind of their plans and jumped on board almost immediately. He was the one that first found Carver Edlund's books in the first place.
Dean and Cas sort of lurk behind the teenagers -- and Sam -- as they enter Barnes and Noble. The front three can't shut up, and won't shut up, about how excited they are. Dean doesn't really like to read too much and Cas picked up a couple of the novels, but never really found them to be anything special. Then again, Cas was never a fan of sci-fi.
"Do you think we'll be able to see him come in?" Astrid asks, standing on her tip-toes to try and look over the crowd.
"Does it matter? We're getting a book signed by him in front of us," Jesse replies, voice full of awe and Dean can't help but roll his eyes. Cas sees it, though, and swats at his stomach.
"Uncle Sam, do you think he's gonna announce the name of his new book today?" Astrid asks as Cas winds his fingers in Dean's. Sam shakes his head.
"Nah. The guy's got, like, extreme social anxiety, he's not about to make any huge announcements in front of big crowds."
"Then why sign books in public?" Dean wonders aloud, earning himself three dirty looks from his brother, daughter, and her best friend.
They wind their way into the crowd and Jesse, Astrid, and Sam each grab a copy of the latest book, even though Dean's almost positive at least one of them already owns it. He leans into Cas' shoulder, and Cas nudges him gently, and Dean smiles.
The smile disappears, though, as soon as Carver Edlund takes his seat at the table, in plain view of all of them.
Chuck Shurley is Carver Edlund.
How did Dean miss this? His picture's on every fucking book jacket of every book the guy's written. Sam's seen his picture a hundred times, how did he miss that? How did Dean miss that, having taken Astrid's book from off the table and set it on the counter before dinner countless times?
"Cas," Dean whispers, standing up stick-straight, glancing between Chuck and Astrid, who's blissfully unaware of the soon-to-be panic attack her father is having.
"No, Dean," Cas says, voice dangerous.
"Cas, it's him," Dean hisses through his teeth.
"I know, and you know, but Astrid doesn't know, and she doesn't need to know. He hasn't seen her in years, he won't even recognize her."
"But --"
"No, Dean," Cas repeats, and Dean inhales through his nose, exhales through his mouth, and prays Chuck doesn't recognize them.
***
They're about halfway up the line when Sam turns around and looks at Dean and Cas over Astrid and Jesse's heads, eyes huge. Dean gives him a half-glare and Cas nods once at the silent question. Astrid looks back at them and frowns a little.
"Y'okay, Daddy?" she asks.
"Fine, babe, fine," Dean mutters. Astrid gives him a look, but faces front and continues her conversation with Jesse.
They get to the front, and Chuck doesn't recognize Sam, chats amiably with him as he signs the book, and Sam steps aside for Astrid and Jesse. Jesse lets Astrid go in front of him, and Dean and Cas stay a little closer as she gets her book signed.
"Who'm I making this out to?" Chuck asks with a smile.
"Astrid," she says, and continues, "I just wanted to say that I really love Annie."
"Oh, really? Thanks. She's a favorite of mine. A-S-T-R-I-D, right?" he says.
"Yeah. She reminded me a lot of my mom. At least, the stories my dads told me about her. She died when I was six."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Chuck says, and he does sound sorry, which pisses Dean off just a little because he's supposed to hate this guy and he can't when he's genuinely sympathetic. "She's based on a friend of mine who died, too." He looks past her, sees Dean and Cas, and stares at Astrid for a second before remembering himself.
"Thank you," Astrid says as Chuck slides the book back to her.
"A-anytime," he stutters, and Dean doesn't make eye contact as he puts a hand on Astrid's shoulder and leads her away.
***
"Sam, how the hell did you not know?"
"Gee, I don't know, Dean, maybe it was the fact that I met the guy once for about ten seconds?" They're in Sam and Jess' house in Chelsea. Jesse, Astrid, and Emma are running after J and Mia in the backyard, giving Sam and Dean time to argue. Jess and Cas watch silently, back and forth, like a tennis match.
"He's gonna turn up at our door again! God knows what he'll want with her!"
"The last time she saw him was nine years ago, it's not the end of the world if he meets her. He legally can't do shit," Sam points out. "I looked into it, when Cas wanted to adopt her."
"Dean, if she wants to meet him, I see no problem with that. I'm sure she has questions for him that we can't answer," Cas says. "He can't legally stake any claims on her, but maybe it would benefit her if they had some semblance of a relationship, regardless of whether or not he knew she was alive until nine years ago."
"He ditched Anna, Cas. He didn't even stick around to find out she was pregnant," Dean says, half whining.
"I know that, but don't you remember Anna saying she forgave him? She never hated him for leaving her alone with Astrid. How could he have known about her? I say, if he contacts us, and Astrid wants to meet him, we let her."
***
It's a week before the phone rings and Astrid answers it before passing it off to Dean.
"It's some guy named Charles or something," she says. "Hey, can I go out with Jesse tonight? We wanna see that new Pixar movie."
"Yeah, sure, aren't you a little old for those?" he asks, taking the phone. She shrugs, and skips off. "Hello?"
"Dean Winchester?"
"Milton-Winchester, but yeah, who's this?"
"It's, uh, it's Chuck. Chuck Shurley?" Dean looks up, grimacing slightly.
"What do you want?"
"I realize it's been a while since we saw each other --"
"Nine years. Or, y'know, a week ago."
"Right," Chuck says, sounding embarrassed. "I was just wondering, the girl who was with you, whose book I signed, was that -- was that Astrid?" Dean doesn't answer for a moment.
"Yeah, it was," he says finally, and he hears Chuck exhale. Cas comes in, sees the phone and the look on Dean's face, and sits down next to him, leaning in to hear.
"She grew up a lot."
"Try living with her," Dean mutters.
"I wouldn't know," Chuck replies, and Dean's surprised by the bite behind it. Chuck's too timid to be snarky, isn't he?
"Was there a reason for you calling me, Chuck?" Dean asks, wanting this over like now.
"I was wondering if I could maybe talk to Astrid."
"You already did, she picked up."
"No, I mean, like, meet her, get to know her. She does know about me, right?"
"Well, kinda hard not to, she answered the door for you the first time you came around here, and she has a signed book by you."
"Dean, you know what I mean," Chuck says as Cas gives Dean one of his stop-spewing-bullshit looks.
"She knows your name and she knows that you haven't been around since her conception, yes," Dean says. "I’m not gonna answer for her now because I'm not that kind of dad. I'll ask her and let you know."
"Thanks, Dean."
"For the record? If Anna was alive, I'm pretty sure there'd be no way in hell you'd be meeting her. Just so you know."
"I know."
"You're welcome."
"Thank you, again, Dean."
Dean hangs up. Cas gives him a disapproving look.
"That was rude."
"So was knocking on our door nine years ago after his disappearing act, but that didn't stop him."
***
They go out to dinner at their favorite pizza place. Emma's at Sam and Jess' and it's just a little bit strange, but it feels like old times. Astrid knows something's up. Dean can tell from the way she keeps looking at them.
"What is it?" she asks as soon as their order's placed and they're sitting in the booth. Dean and Cas are on one side and she's on the other. "You two have news. Are you pregnant or something?"
"Please don't make us explain basic anatomy to you, Astrid," Cas says, and Dean rolls his eyes.
"She's joking, Cas," he says. "No, we're not having another kid. We wanna talk to you about your dad."
"Which one, you or him?" Astrid asks, and it makes Dean feel a little better about this conversation.
"No, your birth father," Cas says. "Chuck Shurley." Astrid's face falls a little.
"Oh, him."
"What?"
"Nothing. What about him?"
"He would like to meet you," Cas says. Astrid's eyes go huge.
"What?"
"It's entirely up to you, sweetheart," Dean says quickly. "He called, earlier this week, and asked if you'd be interested in meeting him. I told him we'd ask you. He understands if you say no, but if you ever want to, he'd be happy to." Astrid looks at the table.
"He left Mom, right?" Astrid says quietly. Dean and Cas exchange a look. "Back, before she knew she was having me, he left."
"Yes," Cas confirms.
"Did he ever know?"
"When you were six, he came looking for your mother," Dean says. "It was when Cas was teaching in San Diego. He and I had a conversation --"
"If you can call it that," Cas interjects. Dean shoots him a look.
"We had a conversation, about Anna and about you, and he decided it'd be best if he disappeared for a while."
"He's not asking to be your father, 'Strid," Cas says. "He knows you already have two. He just wants to meet you."
***
Astrid tells Jesse the whole story that night, over the phone. He's the only person she knows who she can really relate to about the whole birth-parent, adopted-parent thing. She loves her dads, she does, but sometimes she really wishes her mom was still alive to talk to about all this.
"I don't know, 'Strid, if my birth parents turned up out of effing nowhere, I don't know if I'd wanna meet up with them."
"Yeah, but for all you know, your birth mom was a fifteen-year-old who made a mistake. My birth dad ditched my mom without so much as a 'you're SOL' note and all of a sudden wants to meet me. My dads said he didn't even know I existed until I was six!"
"At least you know they loved each other," Jesse sighs. "Or at least liked."
"I guess," she mumbles, picking at a loose thread on the comforter. "Do you think I should?"
"He might have cool stories about your mom. Maybe you should, and if he turns out to be an asshole, don't agree to see him again," Astrid looks up, through her window. The streetlight's casting an orangey glow over the street and she can just make out Jesse in his room, pacing because that's what he does on the phone.
"Thanks, Jesse," she says, watching him. "You're the best." In his room, he visibly preens.
***
Dean sets up the meeting and they agree to meet at the Starbucks a few blocks away. Dean and Cas set themselves up away from Astrid's table, and Astrid waits, peppermint mocha in hand, for her birth father.
"Astrid Milton-Winchester?" She turns.
Carver Fucking Edlund is approaching her.
"Y-yeah?" she squeaks, standing up. He holds out a hand, awkwardly.
"Hi, I'm Chuck," he says. She takes it, staring at him in awe. He slips into the seat across the table from her.
"You're my birth dad?"
"Surprise," he shrugs, looking terrified.
"I didn't expect -- anything, I guess," she realizes. "But -- you're really him?"
"Last time I saw you, you didn't have any front teeth," Chuck says, smiling slightly.
"I don't think I remember that," Astrid says, crossing her legs under the table.
"You were young. I wouldn't expect you to."
"I don't even know where to begin asking," Astrid says, staring at her coffee cup. "How did you meet my mom?"
"Anna had a friend in college, Pamela Barnes, who introduced us during her freshman year."
"What happened to her?"
"She became a street artist, went blind and missing," Chuck says casually. When he notices the look on her face he quickly tries to explain. "It was common, for us. We were artists. Artists' lives are messy."
"So why'd you leave?" Astrid asks. "And why didn't you tell her you were leaving?"
"If I'd known that she was -- we weren't serious, Astrid, you have to know that. We just -- we were never an item. We were friends, sure, and we might have done things, but she wasn't my girlfriend."
"You were friends," Astrid says flatly.
"Yes…?"
"If you were her friend, why didn't you tell her you were leaving?" she asks. "If I was moving halfway across the country, I'd tell my friends."
"I was young and stupid and I didn't realize --"
"Didn't realize what? That she might wanna know?"
"If I could do it all again, I would do it differently, but I can't," he says, trying to make her understand. "And I'm sorry. To you, to her, to your dads. I wish I'd known. This'd be a lot different."
"Would you have stayed with her?" Astrid asks, not meeting his eyes. "Would you have married her?"
"If that's what she wanted."
"Then you didn't know her," Astrid says, finally looking at him.
"Astrid, you were barely six when she died. How could you remember what she would, or wouldn't've wanted?"
"I just do, okay? You wanna know how much different my life would've been if you hadn't been an asshole and skipped out on my mom before she even knew?" Astrid says. "Here's what I figure: you two would've tried a relationship. You probably would've moved in with her and my then-uncle. You would've gone to the doctor's appointments, went to the store when she had really weird cravings, which she did, my dads tell me all the time about them, and you would've tried to coach her through my birth, and she would've told you to shut the hell up and get her the drugs." Chuck is frozen to her seat. "And then here's what would've happened after I was born. Your cowardly instincts, which had steadily been ringing in the back of your head throughout those nine months, would be screaming every time I woke you guys up. You wouldn't be able to handle my uncle, his best friends, my mother, and everyone cooing about how cute I was and how lucky you were, because you didn't feel lucky. So you'd leave. Out of nowhere. Go to wherever you went. And then I'd grow up exactly as if all of that had never happened, except you would've known. So don't tell me things would've been different. You're a goddamn coward, Carver Edlund, or whatever your name is, and I don't need you in my life."
***
Jesse trips up the stairs to Astrid's bedroom, and finds her pulling books off her bookshelf in stacks, separating them into two piles. It seems all the Carver Edlund books are in one and everything else is in another.
"You okay, Strid?" he asks warily, leaning against the doorframe.
"Met my dad today," she says.
"How'd it go?"
"How does it look?" she snaps, stacking the Carver Edlund books -- in chronological order, he notices -- and shoving them towards him.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asks, coming into her room a little bit and sitting down, crisscrossed, diagonal to her.
"I don't know," she says, and it's the first sentence he's gotten out of her that doesn't sound angry. She stops stacking books, gets up on her knees and turns herself around before plopping back down and facing him.
"How bad was it?"
"You know how, when we talk about our birth dads, I always pictured him as being this guy that'd be a perfect father, but he's never had kids so he can't be?"
"Yeah?"
"Chuck Shurley is a coward who'd run at the first sign of commitment."
"Is that fair?"
"I don't care, it's the truth. He and my mom weren't even a thing, he said. They were just fooling around."
"He said what?"
"I know."
"But that can't be true! Strid, you and I both know that's not true," he says. "Your dads always said that they were dating, and then they broke up because he left."
"I wish my mom were here," Astrid mumbles. Jesse gets up on his knees and walks over to her, wrapping her in an awkward hug, since she's taller than him still.
"You don't actually have to see him again, you know," Jesse reminds her. "It was a taste test, remember?"
"He tastes like ass," she mumbles into his sweater. He laughs.
***
"I don't wanna see him again," Astrid says at dinner that night. Emma looks over at her, one eyebrow raised. Dean frowns slightly.
"What happened?"
"We didn't really get along," Astrid says.
"What did you not get along about?" Cas asks.
"Nothing, we just -- we weren't compatible people," Astrid says. "And I don't need him, do I?"
"No, of course not," Cas says immediately. "But what happened?"
"I don't wanna talk about it, okay? I just -- I don't wanna see him again." Dean looks over her head at Cas, who shrugs minutely. Dean nods at her.
"Okay, kiddo, sure."
***
Christmas this year is in Brooklyn and the day school lets out for Astrid and Emma, they come home to find Gabriel and Balthazar sprawled out on the couch, flipping through channels that blare Christmas cheer.
"Hey!" Gabe sits up suddenly, wearing this grin that Astrid's come to know as ‘shit's about to go down that your dads won't approve of but I don't care’ and she can't help but smile back. "It's my two favorite nieces!"
"They're your only nieces, Gabriel," Balthazar says breezily, but he sits up too.
"So, what have we missed? Tell us everything. How many hearts broken?" Gabe says as Astrid and Emma settle between him and Balthazar.
"Uncle Gabe," Emma says, rocking back and looking up at the ceiling. "I'm twelve."
"So? Your papa had already annihilated the hopes and dreams of -- what was her name? Something with an H, I'll remember at three a.m. tonight and rush to tell you. Anyway, she tried to kiss him under the mistletoe that some brilliant person had put over the door of an eighth grade homeroom --"
"I believe that was you," Balthazar interjects.
"As I said, a genius," Gabe continues without a beat. "And he ran away and that was the first time we had any inclination that Cassie didn't like girls." Gabe makes a humming sound that reminds Astrid of TV mothers when they tell embarrassing stories about their children.
"That didn't happen," Emma says.
"It's true, Em. Ask him about it when he gets home. Hester! That was her name. Hester."
"Does Daddy know?" Emma says, sounding appropriately mischievous. Sometimes Astrid wonders if she's really adopted. She's basically Uncle Gabe, after all.
"He will tonight," Balthazar says, slouching back and turning his attention to the TV.
***
"So, kiddo," Gabe settles at the foot of her bed that night. Astrid's wearing the absurd pajamas Balthazar brought back from Italy, the one she suspects are custom-made. She looks at him over her laptop, where she's chatting with Jesse. She can see, across into his window, that he's perched at the backless couch that sits under the windowsill. He looks up, at her, sees Gabe, and quickly turns back to his laptop. He's probably opening a minecraft window or something. What a weenie.
"Yeah?" Astrid says, closing her laptop and setting it next to her.
"Your dads tell me you met Chuck."
"And?"
"And you won't talk about what happened," Gabe says. "So, what's wrong with him? Is he a creepy-ass agoraphobic nerd? Does he blink three times at the end of every sentence? Does he describe in great detail the exact nature of the stains on a table?" Gabe leans in, eyes tightening slightly.
"We didn't get along, I don't know why everyone's making a big deal out of this," Astrid says, reaching back for her laptop, since this conversation's one she's got memorized.
"Aw, c'mon, 'Strid, at least give me something to tell them. They think I can pry it outta you, for some reason."
"If I wanted to talk about it, I would've, already, why do they keep pushing the topic?"
"They worry, kiddo. It's their job." Astrid lowers her screen, just slightly.
"They don't need to."
"Well, regardless of that, they're gonna. So, what's up? Tell Uncle Gabey."
"If I do, you have to promise me you'll never call yourself that again," She closes her laptop and sits up a little bit. "I met him."
"I know."
"He was really nice at first. He seemed a little scared of me, but I think that's just because I'm a teenager and teenagers scare everyone." Gabe chuckles. "And then he started talking about my mom."
"What'd he say?"
"He -- he didn't think they were ever serious," she says, starting to frown without realizing it. "I didn't think that --" She cuts off, takes a breath, and looks up at him. Her eyes are a little bright. "When -- she never brought him home, right?"
"'Strid, there wasn't a home to go to," Gabe says. "Our parents, once she graduated -- they sold the house, went on an extended vacation. Even now we're not totally sure where they are. Why does that matter?"
"He said they weren't ever a thing." Gabe makes this face: his lips are pressed into a tight line, he's frowning slightly, and it just doesn't suit him.
"What do you mean?"
"He -- he said that he and my mom weren't -- they were just messing around. He didn't think it was serious, which is why when he left, he didn't tell her where he was going. But -- even if they weren't serious, they had to have been friends, right? You'd tell your friends if you were moving halfway across the country, wouldn't you?"
"Is that why you're upset?"
"I'm upset because he seems to think he's a lot better than he actually is," Astrid says, drawing her knees into her chest. "He just -- he kept trying to tell me that he would've stayed if he knew, and I can't believe him, Uncle Gabe. I just can't."
"Listen, Astrid, and I'm only gonna say this once because you and I both know I don't do sappy," he says, scooting in a little bit. "From the day Anna told us she was pregnant, I knew you were gonna be special. I knew because your mom was special, and she wasn't sipping the Kool-Aid our parents had been force-feeding us. The fact that she was living with your dads and uncle when you were born just made you all the more likely to be this awesome.
"Anna knew that your bio dad wasn't anything special, once she was a few months out of that fling and had you to look forward to. Sure, she was ass over teakettle for him in the moment, but if you asked her in February that year she would've laughed at you. She knew you wouldn't need him so she didn't bother looking for him. And you know what, Astrid Marie? You don't need that guy. The only thing he's responsible for is half of your chromosomes and if you ask me, the only thing he won out was your hair color because Anna sure as hell wasn't walking around with a dark hair gene, and if you want, pretend you take after Cas, for all we care. So don't think about him anymore. He's not worth your brainwaves."