Cheeseburgers and Pie (Chapter 8)
Days pass easily into one another. The boys spend most of their time lounging around the house playing video games and generally being unproductive. They fall into a routine together. Whoever gets up first starts coffee, and if it’s Dean or Castiel, breakfast is made. If Sam gets up first he isn’t allowed to cook, not since he gave Dean food poisoning from undercooked eggs the second morning. Gabriel usually makes his way over by noon, if he hadn’t crashed on their couch the night before. Occasionally they will get a call from John, letting them know how things are going. Dean and Castiel take to walking around the town, wandering around with no real direction until it got too cold and they had to head home. Dean hadn’t had another dream about Castiel since the first one, but his mind kept drifting back to it every now and then. He wasn’t quite sure what it really meant. Of course he thought Castiel was attractive, anyone could admit to that, Castiel’s face was deceptively handsome. At first glance he didn’t seem like much more than your average nineteen year old, but the more time Dean spent alone with him, the more he came to appreciate his friend’s charm. His dark hair constantly disheveled in a carelessly cool way, just long enough to frame his sharp features, the ridiculously blue eyes that could bore holes in Dean’s soul and make all his secrets spill out, his mouth that had an elegant bow in the top lip, but the bottom was chapped from Castiel chewing on it when he concentrated. In a few stray thoughts Dean let himself wonder how Castiel’s long nimble fingers might feel curled around his body like they had been in the dream, but he quickly shook them away. He may have an appreciation for the way Castiel was put together, but that didn’t mean he wanted anything more from Castiel. That’s what he told himself, yet as the days grew shorter and he spent more of his time with Castiel, the more he realized that his dream had kick started feelings for his friend that he hadn’t known he was harboring. Every touch or glance that passed between them sent electric shocks through Dean’s spine, but he ignored them, not willing to entertain the idea that they were anything but innocent signs of friendship. After all, he’d never had the discussion with Castiel about their sexuality, but he was fairly sure Castiel wasn’t interested in anyone, let alone Dean Winchester.
As Christmas snuck up on everyone, the boys quickly snapped out of their relaxed haze and busied themselves with preparations for the holidays. Dean and Gabriel took turns driving to the mall, carting around first Sam, then Castiel in an arrangement that Sam organized so as to keep the presents top secret from one another.
During Sam and Dean’s trip to the Lawrence Shopping Plaza, Sam cornered his brother in the bookstore as Dean was contemplating a vintage copy of Dante’s Divine Comedy for Castiel. “Dude, are you gonna talk about how you legitimately have a gynormous crush on Castiel?” Dean scoffed and turned the leather bound book over in his hands. “No, Dean, seriously. The nightly walks? The staring? The not so innocent bumps in the hallway? Everytime you think no one's watching you give Castiel this look, like he holds all the secrets in the world and you just want to get in there and unlock the puzzle.” Dean looked up then to shoot Sam a steely glare. “Admit it or not, I don’t care, but you should at least let him know why you’re drooling over him.”
“I am not drooling, goddamnit!” Dean scowled as he stalked off towards the register. Sam following closely at his heels.
“Dean!” Sam grabbed his shoulder and whipped him around. “Just, promise me you’ll think about it. I don’t want to see you lose him because you were too afraid to at least try.” Dean sighed, conceding to Sam because, as annoying as it was, Sam had a point.
“Yeah, Sam, okay.” Dean tried to shrug his brother’s hand off his shoulder but Sam gripped him tighter, a look on his face that was clearly disbelief. “Sam. I promise. I’ll try when the time is right.”
They finished up their shopping and headed home to pick up the other boys. It was a tradition that the Winchester men would go out on December 21st, the first day of winter, and pick out which lucky tree would grace the Winchester living room. Castiel spent the whole drive there asking ridiculous questions about how to pick out a tree. He rattled off question after question, making Dean set his jaw and grind his teeth until finally he turned to Castiel and snapped that when they saw the perfect tree they would feel it in their bones. Castiel seemed to take this as a good enough answer and was silent the last couple miles to the lot. Once there they went their separate ways, Castiel practically running into the field of trees. Dean shook his head and walked calmly to the first line to start scanning for The One. Half an hour later Dean toppled over as Castiel came barreling into him from the opposite side of the tree line. “Woah, Cas. You need to calm down.” Castiel had him pinned to the ground by the shoulders, cheeks flushed with exercise and eyes impossibly bright with excitement. It made a knot in Dean’s stomach grow impossible tight to look up into them.
“I apologize. But Dean, I found it.” Castiel was beaming now, proud smile carving into his face from ear to ear. “The One, as you say.” Castiel didn’t wait for an answer, just took Dean’s hand in his and pulled him up to his feet. He lead Dean enthusiastically through the maze of trees until they stopped in front of the most impressive tree Dean had ever seen. They stood together gazing up at it for a while. Castiel was right, this was definitely The One. He looked over at Castiel who was beaming with pride back at Dean, he realized then that Castiel hadn’t let his hand go and blushed slightly as he quickly dropped his friend’s hand before awkwardly patting Castiel on the shoulder.
“It’s a beaut, Cas.” Dean whistled long and low then, signaling Sam to come meet them so they could haul the tree out to the car. The high pitched answer wasn’t far off and in no time they had paid the lot owner and wrestled the tree on top of the Impala. Gabriel lead an enthusiastic round of caroling on the drive home, with everyone but Dean joining in. His mind was still thinking about his promise to Sam earlier. When the hell would be the right time? He couldn’t just blurt it out one day over breakfast, and he certainly didn’t want to say anything until he thought Castiel might feel similarly back. Up until that moment, Dean hadn’t paid enough attention to Castiel’s actions towards him to even guess at how his friend felt. He was more worried about hiding his growing crush, than finding out if Castiel felt the same. He resolved to put the matter to rest before they went back for the school year, solidifying the resolution in his mind as he threw the Impala into park on the drive way.
After wrangling the tree into the house and setting it just so in the living room, Gabriel called it a night and plopped himself on the couch to enjoy ABC Family’s twenty five days of Christmas. Everyone else agreed and arranged themselves around the living room, deciding that tomorrow they would decorate. Dean drifted to sleep in the armchair, comforted by the sound of claymation Rudolph and the intoxicating aroma of pine. He awoke with a start, discovering that everyone had cleared out of the living room. Everything was silent in the house as Dean carefully picked his way up the stairs, avoiding the spots that creaked. He was busy trying to make his way back to bed when he bumped straight into a solid mass. Staggering backwards, he was caught by a firm hand to the bicep, looking up he recognized the blue gleam of Castiel’s eyes in the darkness.
“Dean?” Castiel whispered.
“Yeah, Cas. What are you doing up?” Dean whispered back, righting himself under Castiel’s firm grip.
“I was coming to check on you. I woke up and noticed you still hadn’t made it to bed.” Dean’s throat grew dry. Castiel didn’t usually wake up. Dean would know as he’d spent long nights up, contemplating the conflicting feelings Castiel brought up in him. Not once had Castiel stirred from his slumber, not even to go to the bathroom.
“Are you okay?” Dean stepped forward and placed a hand on Castiel’s chest. His shirt was cold with sweat and Dean noticed that Castiel was looking especially pale in the darkness. “You’re freezing.”
“I, I had a disturbing dream.” Castiel breathes, falling forward into the press of Dean’s hand. Dean shifts his grip and pulls Castiel into his arm, guiding him back towards the bedroom while rubbing soft circles into the dip of Castiel’s back. Silently, Dean gently lowered Castiel into a sitting position on his bed.
“Cas,” Dean tips his friends head so that their eyes can meet, “what happened?”
“It was nothing, a distorted memory.” Castiel tenses under Dean’s hold. Dean doesn’t say anything, knowing that if Castiel wanted to talk about it, he would. Sure enough, moments later Castiel lets out a ragged sigh and begins, “I dreamed about my home life. Not the one with my parents, but when I was raised by my uncle.” Dean stays silent, absorbing the new information. “My uncle was, strict. He held me back from many opportunities growing up. Raphael's ideas for my future varied greatly with my father’s. I struggled under his guardianship.” Castiel’s eyes glazed over, lost in memory. Dean reached over with his free hand and gave Castiel’s a light squeeze, effectively snapping Castiel out of his trance. “My father tried very hard to raise me after my mother died. But, his job made it impossible for him to stay home at all times. I was sent to live with my uncle six months after my mother’s funeral.” Castiel’s voice was shaking and he looked on the verge of tears. Dean brought the arm that was rubbing circles into Castiel’s back up and around his shoulder into a tight embrace.
“Shh, it’s okay, Cas.” Dean whispered into his friend’s ear. “You don’t have to talk about it.”
“I do.” Castiel pulled back, blue eyes fierce with determination. Dean nodded and shifted so that he was cross legged on the bed, facing Castiel as the other boy pulled his feet from the floor and wrapped his arms around his knees. “My father was a doctor as well. He’s where Ana and I got our inspiration from. He signed up for Doctors without Borders not long after Michael died. Claiming that he’d received a sign, that he was needed. I thought he was a hero. Now, I’m not sure if he was doing the right thing or just running away from the pain. He came home when he could, but he never stayed for long. My mother’s deteriorating condition and the absence of most of his children drove him out of the house. I didn’t blame him. Not one bit, I saw the pain written across both of my parents faces, a pain that never went away after Ana. I was so young, I didn’t know what to do. When my mother passed, my father came home for a while. He made his new project researching the disease that had taken his beloved away from him. He obsessed over it, passing the obsession onto me. We worked together for months, I was only eight, I dove head first into the research, even though I didn’t understand half of what I was reading. We couldn’t come up with anything, and after six months my father went back to the program and left me with my uncle. He fully intended for me to continue my studies, but Raphael had other ideas.” Castiel’s voice had gone from sorrowful to heated at the last statement. He clenched his knees tighter to himself and chewed on his lip forcefully. Dean couldn’t help but stare, thinking about how he wanted to comfort Castiel, give in and take all this pain away one kiss at a time. So not the time Winchester. Shaking off the traitorous thoughts, Dean put a hand out to Castiel’s shoulder. Castiel was tense, but melted slightly into Dean’s grasp. “Raphael didn’t send me to school, or hire a tutor. He fully intended on ignoring my existence upon my arrival. I was okay with that. I spent most of my time wandering his large home, or in the library, reading every book I could get my hands on. When I was thirteen I received a letter from Tibet. It stated simply that my father had caught a disease while helping a small village in the forests of Zayul and had passed. Raphael didn’t even bother bringing his body home.” Castiel’s voice and shoulders were shaking violently and Dean reached over to rub comforting circles again. After a few moments Castiel took a deep breath and continued, “my father’s death and the treatment I receive at the hands of my uncle were both catalysts for my education. I sought out my own tutor, and earned my high school diploma, determined to send myself to medical school. My uncle fought me at every opportunity, but eventually he lost. He was a very old man by the time I came of age and not long after I received my diploma did he pass away. I was relieved at first, happy to gain my inheritance and head out on my own and make my own future, but then I realized that I was truly alone. With the passing of my uncle, I lost the last family member I had.” Dean’s heart clenched tightly, Castiel had been through too much. He had no idea what to say, John had always taught the boys that family was everything. How do you comfort someone who had lost everything?
Dean shifted closer to Castiel, wrapping his arms around his friend and letting Castiel break apart in his embrace. Slowly they shifted in the bed and Dean brought Castiel down to lay next to him, humming softly and rubbing up and down Castiel’s spine, like he used to do to Sam when he’d crawled into Dean’s bed late at night after waking up from a nightmare. At that moment Dean knew how he felt about Castiel would never matter. Castiel needed a friend and Dean wouldn’t mess that up. Sam would have to deal with it. Castiel’s breathing stilled under Dean’s comfort and slowly, they drifted off to sleep. Just before Dean fell from consciousness, Castiel whispered a soft thank you into his shoulder, which Dean answered with a gentle hug.
The next morning Dean awoke to an empty bed, he wandered down the stairs and had half convinced himself that last night's events has been a dream when he saw Castiel perched on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, eyes still puffy and red from crying. Definitely not a dream. He looked up at Dean’s entry and gave a small, weak smile. Dean nodded and went to the kitchen, pouring a mug of coffee for both him and Castiel. Strolling back out into the living room, he passed a mug to Castiel, who gladly accepted, slowly closing his eyes and taking a long deep sip. Dean settled himself on the couch next to Castiel and put his feet up on the coffee table.
“Where’s Sam and Gabe?” Dean inquired between sips.
“I believe they’re out buying decorations.” Castiel answered calmly.
“We have a whole box downstairs.” Dean grumbled.
“I also believe Gabriel dropped it this morning.” Dean groaned and took a deep drink of coffee. Castiel smiles softly, “if I am guessing correctly, they were hoping to replace them before you found out.”
“Too bad for Sammy, I find out everything.” Dean winked at Castiel before he could stop himself. Castiel held his gaze calmly for what felt like an eternity before dropping his eyes and staring at the dark liquid in the mug.
“Dean, last night,” Castiel started, Dean nearly choked on his coffee. He wasn’t expecting to discuss the topic further, especially not in full daylight where Castiel could see Dean undress him with his eyes. “I just wanted to thank you again. I haven’t really allowed myself to form relationships since my uncle passed. You’re an amazing friend. I am truly grateful that you’ve allowed me here, it meant more to me than you could possibly know that you invited me for the holidays.”
“Well, I couldn’t just leave you there alone for Christmas!” Dean exclaimed, trying to break up the tension that had built again. “What are friends for?” He flashed Castiel his most charming smile before rising to stretch. “Hey, what do you say to a big ol’ stack of hotcakes drowned in syrup?” Castiel’s eyes brightened and he nodded vigorously. “Great! Let’s get going before the breakfast rush starts at the diner.”
Castiel frowned, “Dean, I am still in my pajamas.” Dean allowed himself to runs his eyes up and down Castiel’s form, rarely seeing him straight out of bed, even when they’d been at the dorms. Castiel’s well worn flannel pants hung off his hips, dependant on the sharp outlines of his hip bones to keep them from slipping down. His shirt was tighter than Dean had ever seen, which wasn’t saying much since Castiel’s t-shirts usually hung off of his smaller frame. This one clung to his upper body, shoulders and biceps framed nicely in heather grey cotton. It must have been from years ago because it was a little too small, revealing a sliver of skin between the edge of the shirt and the very tops of Castiel’s underwear waistband.
Dean took it all in one final time before smiling mischievously at Castiel, “you look great, now let’s go.” Before Castiel had a chance to protest, Dean was steering him towards the door and forcing his coat and shoes on him. Castiel grumbled the entire time about indecency of going out in bed clothes but Dean paid him no mind, directing Castiel swiftly into the passenger seat of the Impala. They each ordered two stacks of pancakes and cleared them with little trouble, all the while Dean doing his best to make Castiel laugh. At one point he even got Castiel to laugh so hard juice came out of his nose, which made them both laugh even harder. When the bill came Dean gave an extra tip due to the disturbance they had made, but couldn’t muster up enough energy to feel sorry about it. Castiel was no longer worrying about wearing his pajamas in public and was far from upset over his confession last night. As they stepped through the entrance back at the house, they could hear Sam and Gabriel rustling around in the living room. They rushed in to see what they were up to and stopped in shock at the threshold, the living room had been transformed. The tree was decorated in gold orbs with silver tinsel artfully strewn across the branches. On top sat their mother’s old brass star that glittered in the light reflected off the other ornaments from the small twinkling white lights strung over the branches. Sam and Gabriel were busy over at the fireplace, setting out stockings when the other two entered.
“Dude, Sam.” Sam turned around to face his brother, registering the awe on Dean’s face and smiling with pride at the tree himself.
“I know right? It’s awesome!” Sam exclaimed. “Hey, Cas!” Castiel turned to look at the youngest Winchester. “We got you a stocking too!” He held up a white stocking that had a kitten embroidered on it with the soft blue eyes and a candy cane in its mouth, across the top was written “Cassie” in pastel pink. Castiel pulled a face which made Sam laugh, but then Castiel’s eyes softened and Dean remembered what Castiel had said this morning. It meant more to me than you could possibly know that you invited me for the holidays.
Dean slung an arm around Castiel’s shoulder and squeezed quickly, “welcome to the family, Cas.” Castiel looked up at him, eyes glassy and a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Team Holidays, as Gabriel dubbed them, spent the next couple of days decorating the house inside and out. Sam insisted that they have the house in full holiday swing for when John came back on Christmas Eve. While Gabriel and Sam decorated the living room the night before John came home, Castiel and Dean were given the duty of cookie baking. Dean was shocked to find that Castiel was a skilled baker. He knew the kid could cook, whenever it was Castiel’s turn to make breakfast they all feasted like kings on near gourmet food. Baking was another thing though. It didn’t seem to bother Castiel, whirling around the kitchen, gathering up ingredients and throwing together dough without a recipe. With sugar cookies in the oven, gingerbread cooling on the rack and Castiel’s hands in a bowl of shortbread batter, Dean snickered as he whipped the frosting. “What is it Dean?” Castiel looked up from where he was kneading the dough together. Dean looked at him and smiled.
“Nothing, you just remind me of my mom when she baked.” Dean smirked again and went back to mixing. “She never really made cookies though, just pie. But God, could that woman make a pie.”
“The housekeepers usually baked for the holidays. But I used to make them teach me. I always loved baking and cooking. It took my mind off of things around me, plus I got to use my energy to create something delicious.” Castiel was smirking back at Dean, and Dean chuckled, reaching over to rub a streak of flour from Castiel’s cheek.
“You’re something else, Castiel.” Castiel pursed his lips and wrinkled his brow in confusion at the statement, causing Dean to laugh again and nearly spill frosting over the edge of the bowl. Once the shortbread was in the oven and Castiel had exchanged the still hot sugar cookies for the cooled gingerbread, they started to decorate the tiny sugary men. Castiel showed Dean how to use a plastic sandwich bag as a makeshift piping bag and together they created an army of sweet little soldiers. They repeated the steps for the variously shaped sugar cookies, decorating stars and snowmen and other shapes with the remaining frosting, mixing food coloring together “for accuracy,” as Dean stated. When the shortbread had cooled Dean reached around to place them in the decorating zone, but Castiel quickly batted his hands away, claiming that if Dean put even a speck of icing on a shortbread cookie Castiel would skin him alive and use his blood as food coloring. Dean laughed in his face, but obeyed, secretly terrified that Castiel might actually make good on his threat.
The rest of the night passed quickly and by the time both sections of Team Holidays had completed their assigned missions, the house was a vision of cheer and smelled deliciously of cookies and sticky sweet pine needles. They congratulated each other on a job well done and turned into bed, Dean didn’t even have the energy to protest as Gabriel followed Sam up the stairs and into his bedroom.
Dean woke up to shouting from the kitchen the next morning. He scrambled out of bed and hurtled down the stairs, skidding to a stop just as Sam slammed the phone down on the receiver. “Dad can’t make it,” was all Sam said as he stomped out of the house, grabbing his jacket and slipping on his shoes in one motion.
“I’ll get him,” Gabriel volunteered, hurriedly slinging on his own coat and following his boyfriend out the door.
Dean sank onto one of the stools at the breakfast island with a frustrated sigh. He buried his face in his hands, rubbing circles around his eyeballs with the heels of his palms. He felt a warmth on his back and realized that Castiel was rubbing his back between his shoulder blades in the same way that Dean had done for Castiel a few nights ago. It calmed him down and he slowly pulled his face from his hands. “Dean?” Castiel’s voice brought him back to himself. He twirled around on the stool and faced Castiel.
“We go on like nothing happened. My dad said he would make it for Christmas, so that gives him about twenty hours to get his ass back here or we start Christmas without him. Sam’s going to be heated for a while, but Gabriel will calm him down and he’ll be back soon enough. For now, let’s just start cooking for tomorrow.” Castiel looked down into Dean’s eyes for a moment, studying his face carefully before nodding and turning to the kitchen cabinets to bring out the pots and pans.
They cooked together for hours. Castiel holding his patience with Dean, and Dean admiring the way Castiel gracefully worked his way through the dishes, checking and double checking up on Dean’s progress. They barely noticed Gabriel dragging Sam through the door. Dean dropped everything and grabbed his little brother from Gabriel’s arms. Sam looked down at Dean, eyes bloodshot and still glossy with tears, hair sticking to the wet spots on his cheeks. Dean gave him a warm hug, and sent him upstairs with Gabriel to rest. He returned to find Castiel chopping celery for the stuffing.
“How is he?” Castiel asked, not looking up from the task at hand.
“He’ll live.” Dean answered, popping a hunk of bread into his mouth. “I think he just needs to sleep it off. Him and Dad, they always managed to fight about something. Sammy takes it a lot harder when Dad doesn’t pull through like he says he will.” Dean reached across the counter for another scoop of bread when Castiel smacked his hand with the flat edge of the blade.
“Dean Winchester,” Castiel’s eyes grew dark as he pointed the knife inches from Dean’s nose, “if you do not stop eating the ingredients, I will cook you up instead of the turkey.” Dean smiled at that, and for a brief moment, thought about how far he could push Castiel before he actually tried to go through with any of his threats. Deciding that it was worth the risk, as soon as Castiel turned his back, Dean grabbed another handful of bread. With Castiel’s super senses, he whipped around and stared directly at Dean, who was caught red handed, mouth full of dry stuffing. He smiled around the lump of food in his cheek but the damage was done. Castiel was around the counter and chasing Dean into the living room before Dean could register what happened. Castiel tackled him to the floor, nearly knocking both of their heads against the coffee table in the process. Castiel rolled them over so he was straddling Dean’s chest, trying to pry his fingers into Dean’s palms to retrieve the stolen bread. Dean was busy laughing as Castiel’s knee pushed up into his armpit, tickling him and sending him squirming into a fit of laughter. As Castiel realized what was happening, he pushed his other knee into the opposite arm pit and had Dean crying and wriggling violently underneath him in no time. Castiel apparently found this helpless restrained version of Dean to be equally hilarious, giving up his quest to retrieve the bread in order to use his hands to attack Dean even more. Dean gave a final violent jerk and threw Castiel halfway off of his chest, breathing heavily as his laughter died down. He rolled his head to the side to meet Castiel’s gaze, his blue eyes sparkling with joy, cheeks flushed from laughter. He looked incredible, and Dean felt a familiar heat pool in his stomach as he watched Castiel slowly pull himself up from the floor, following the line of his body as it unfolded itself. Castiel stared down at Dean for another long moment, before offering his friend a hand in getting up. Dean accepted and let his hand linger in Castiel’s just a moment when he’d straightened out. With a mischievous look, Dean popped the last of the stolen bread into his mouth and Castiel rolled his eyes and shoved him backwards, sending Dean sprawling out on his ass on the floor, laughing like a madman. Dean scrambled up to follow Castiel back into the kitchen, where he was given the job of dishwasher, so as to keep his hands out of as much food as possible.
Sam slept for the rest of the night and Gabriel left at around eleven thirty, claiming that his parents were going to try and drag him to church in the morning so he’d better head in for the night. They said their goodbyes and Dean and Castiel curled up on the couch together as they waited for the last of the food to finish cooking. Dean turned on twenty four hours of A Christmas Story and they watched it twice before turning all the appliances off and calling it a night. Dean just settled into bed and closed his eyes when he heard the door open and moments later felt the bed dip. He turned and met his brother’s gaze with soft affection. He gathered Sam into his arms and whispered, “Merry Christmas, Sammy,” into his little brother’s hairline before settling down and promptly passing out.
“Dean! Dean, come on wake up.” Sam’s hissing whisper cut through Dean’s sleep like a knife. Groaning wearily he pushed himself up out of bed to rub the sleep from his eyes.
“What is it, Sammy?” Slowly opening his eyes to adjust them to the early morning light.
“You’re just gonna have to come see for yourself.” Sam said as he tugged his brother all the way out of bed and towards the door. “Come on, Dean!”
Dean made his way downstairs slowly Sam trailing behind him, but somewhere in between the top and bottom step his brain became suddenly aware that a heavenly smell was wafting from the kitchen. Pie! Dean shuffled into the kitchen eagerly, following the scent as his mouth dripped drool slightly from the corners. His jaw dropped, taking in the sight before him. Castiel was hovering over the stove that already had two pies on it. Even more surprising was the figure seated on the island, recounting Christmas stories from years ago. “Dad?”
John Winchester turned slowly to face his two sons, a smile creeping across his face, “Hey there, Dean. Sammy.” He stood and both boys rushed to embrace their father.
“But Sam said - “ Dean started, burying his face in his father’s worn leather jacket.
“Yeah, I know. I called yesterday to say I wouldn’t be home. But then I got a call late last night from your friend over here,” John nudged his head towards Castiel, who blushed and turned back to the pies. “He told me I better get my sorry ass back here if I knew what was good for me.” Dean laughed at that, pulling away from the hug.
“Castiel, you didn’t!” Sam’s face a mixture of shock and deep gratitude.
“I simply informed your father of how important his presence was today.” Castiel stated, still hovering over the pie. “It was nothing.”
“Nothing my ass, Cas.” Dean snapped playfully, turning back to his father. “What time did you get in?”
“Uh, ‘bout four. I found your friend here in the kitchen setting up for what I’m guessing will be a pie marathon.” Castiel turned around and smiled sheepishly at Dean.
“I found your mother’s cookbook, I wasn’t sure if your father would make it on time and I just, I wanted to do something special for you.” He was looking straight in Dean’s eyes as he said this and Dean was transfixed, frozen in a pleasant shock that Castiel would do so much for him and Sam. “For all of you.” Castiel’s gaze scanned the room, landing on each Winchester so they felt the impact of this gesture of kindness.
John stepped up and pulled Castiel into a tight embrace, catching Castiel off guard and shaking him around in a rough hug that left him looking like an oversized rag doll. “You’re alright, you know that?” John pulled back and reached a hand up to pat Castiel’s face gently. “If these pies taste half as good as your cookies, then I’m sure we’re all in for a treat.”
Castiel blushed at this and gave a small nod. John retreated to his room to change out of his road-worn clothing and the boys left Castiel in the kitchen to arrange presents under the tree. Castiel had already brought his impeccably wrapped packages down and laid them out in an arrangement that reminded Dean of the catalogues that stores sent out for the holidays. Dean placed his newspaper wrapped gifts around Castiel’s and Sam laughed at him for still using newspaper. Dean shoved him back, in mock annoyance, smiling down proudly at his presents. Sam arranged his around Dean’s, keeping a small package to himself, for later, he explained, when Gabriel came over.
By the time the boys had finished arranging the tree, John made his way downstairs, arms full of store wrapped boxes. “Couldn’t come home empty handed now, could I?” John teased as he let his sons take the gifts from his hands and set them around the already full tree. Then they all settled into their usual spots, John in the armchair, Sam on the couch, and Dean on the floor in front of the fireplace.
“Cas!” Dean called. “Come on, man. Present time!”
Castiel emerged, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel, eyes wide with delight. “Presents?”
“Yeah, dude. It is Christmas after all.” Dean beamed up at him from his spot on the floor. Castiel smiled wide, flinging the towel behind him and scurrying over to settle down next to Dean.
“Castiel, why don’t you play Santa?” John offered. Castiel looked up at him in confusion.
“He means pass the presents out.” Dean provided. Castiel nodded and went about distributing the gifts. By the time he’d finished each Winchester had a decent sized pile in front of them and Castiel settled in front of his own pile, staring at it in awe. “Okay, so, Cas, here’s how this goes. Youngest goes first, which is Sammy. Then you, then me, then Dad. After we go through one round, it’s free for all!” Castiel pried his eyes off his presents to give Dean a quick nod. All eyes turned to Sam as he ripped open his first gift. It was a briefcase from the second hand store at the mall. Sam held it over his head in victory. “For when you ship off to Stanford!” Dean exclaimed, Sam’s infectious energy spreading to him.
“It’s perfect, Dean!” Castiel’s turn came next, he gingerly unwrapped the newspaper and stared down at the book in his lap.
“I, uh, I didn’t know if you’d read it but, I thought it might be your thing.” Dean explained, Castiel looked up at him, eyes soft and mouth quirked up slightly. Dean melted a little, unable to control himself.
“Thank you.” Castiel whispered as he turned the book over in his hands. Dean nodded and turned his attention to the large box sitting in front of him. He eyed his father suspiciously before tearing into it, revealing a new record player.
“I know you broke your old one. You can’t hide anything from me.” John teased as Dean turned it over in his hands. John opened his gift from his sons, a new pocket watch with a picture compartment. John turned it over and read the inscription outloud. “Produce great men, the rest follows - Whitman. Love, Sam and Dean” John looked up at his two boys with misty eyes.
“I looked up the quote, but Dean engraved it the other day over at Bobby’s.” Sam supplied. John turned the watch over in his hands, smiling down at it.
“It’s wonderful.” John said, not taking his eyes off the watch. After that, everyone tore into their presents. Sam’s consisted of mostly college related items, which was to be expected seeing as he would be graduating in less than six months. Castiel unwrapped Thoreau's Walden from John and a fine leather bound journal from Sam. Dean received a year’s subscription to Classic Cars from Sam and a box of gently used tapes from Castiel. John was the last to open his presents, busy watching the three young men in front of him turn into eight year olds again as they unwrapped each of their presents. Quietly, while the excitement was concentrated on other gifts, John unwrapped another bundle from his sons, a number one dad mug and some office supplies, smiling nostalgically he placed it aside to turn the the last present. It was marked from Castiel and John tilted his head up to watch his son’s friend interact with Sam, reading a passage out of The Divine Comedy and discussing basic principles of theology. John smiled softly at the boy who’d found his own way into the family so quickly. He looked down at the gift and gently unwrapped it, revealing a handmade book. John flicked through the pages, each one containing a handwritten recipe. Most he recognized as Mary’s own creations, which Castiel must have gathered up from their scattered places in the kitchen. Others were foreign to him, but Castiel had written small notes on each describing their significance. In the very back John found a note, it read:
“Dear John, the more I spend time with your family the more I feel a connection to both you and your sons. Dean has welcomed me with open arms at a time in my life when I had let myself believe that I was destined to walk my life’s journey alone. I may not have known you for very long, but the stories that Dean tells me have supplied enough information that I believe this gift will benefit you, and in turn, your family. I thank you humbly for your efforts in welcoming me, and your efforts in raising such fine children. Sam is exceptionally bright and Dean has become the closest friend I’ve ever had.
Merry Christmas,
Castiel Novak”
A tear rolled down John’s cheek and he wiped it away quickly. He looked up to find Castiel staring at him, shoulders tense and waiting. John gave the boy a small smile and appreciative nod and Castiel’s body relaxed, giving John a smile in return before turning his attention back to Dean who was showing him something in the first issue of the magazine.
The rest of the night passed calmly, Gabriel came over just in time for dinner and they all ate until they were groaning in pain. Then they piled into the living room to watch National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, each with a hearty portion of Castiel’s pie, which everyone claimed was the most delicious pie they’d ever tasted. By the time the movie ended, everyone had fallen asleep besides Castiel. He looked around and gently removed himself from the spot on the couch between Dean and Gabriel. Pulling on his coat he shuffled in stocking feet outside to sit on the porch swing. Castiel sat in silence, folding one leg up onto the bench of the swing and leaving one down to gently rock himself back and forth. Eventually he grew cold, but then only wrapped his coat around himself tighter, refusing to break the serenity of the night.
“Cas?” Castiel turned to find Dean, wrapped in a blanket from the couch, hovering by the doorway. Dean gave him a hesitant look, “what are you doing out here?”
“I just needed a moment.” Castiel said, tilting his head towards the open spot on the bench in invitation. Dean accepted and scurried over to sit down, bare feet padding across the cold wood.
They sat together, staring at the stars for a while. “Are you okay, Cas?” Dean asked setting both of his feet down to rock them. Castiel lifted his leg up to join the other as he wrapped his arms around his knees.
“Yes, Dean.” Castiel said, staring at the moon and absorbing the silver light it cast over his face. Dean stared at his friend’s profile in return, worry etched over his features. Castiel finally turned his head to face Dean and gave him a small smile that was entirely genuine. As Dean relaxed, Castiel’s smile grew wider. He turned back to face the moon, studying it with joy brightening his entire face, “tonight was the first time in a very long time that I felt like I was part of a family. It was nice.” Castiel dropped his gaze to the tops of his knees. “I want to thank you.”
Dean scooted closer so he could place an arm around Castiel’s shoulder. “Don’t mention it, man.” He had just settled next to Castiel when the other boy turned his head, bringing their faces inches from each other. Dean’s breathing hitched as Castiel fixed his brilliant blue gaze on Dean’s features. Castiel leaned in and Dean shut his eyes, unwilling to believe what was happening. Waiting for the impact, his entire body braced for the moment of contact. Castiel moved closer, Dean could feel the his friend’s breathing ghosting over his face, the warmth of him radiating through the centimeters between them. But then the moment faded just as quickly as it had come, Castiel pressing his face to the side of Dean’s neck in an awkward hug. Dean let out a breath and wrapped his arms around his friend. Castiel started shaking and Dean pulled back quickly to study his face. There were tears in his eyes, but Castiel hadn’t stopped smiling. He let out a strangled laugh and took Dean’s hands from his shoulders gently.
“I am not sad, Dean.” Castiel said, wiping the stray drops from his cheeks. “In actuality, I am the happiest that I can ever remember being.” Castiel smiled so wide then that Dean’s mind shut down. The look on his face was stunning. His eyes were bright from both tears and joy, smile open all the way, letting the moonlight reflect off of his pearly teeth. There were tiny smile lines in the crinkles of his nose and corners of his eyes. Dean was enamored with it, with seeing Castiel this way. His heart ached at the fact that he had brought this on Castiel. He closed the distance again with a firm hug. He unwrapped the blanket from around himself and offered half of it to Castiel. They huddled close and watched the stars, Castiel pointing out different constellations and recounting the myths that went along with them.
After Castiel had run out of stories, Dean hooked an arm around his friend’s shoulder. Castiel settled into it lazily and rested his head against Dean’s arm. “Merry Christmas, Cas.”
“Merry Christmas, Dean.”
Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Epilogue |
As Christmas snuck up on everyone, the boys quickly snapped out of their relaxed haze and busied themselves with preparations for the holidays. Dean and Gabriel took turns driving to the mall, carting around first Sam, then Castiel in an arrangement that Sam organized so as to keep the presents top secret from one another.
During Sam and Dean’s trip to the Lawrence Shopping Plaza, Sam cornered his brother in the bookstore as Dean was contemplating a vintage copy of Dante’s Divine Comedy for Castiel. “Dude, are you gonna talk about how you legitimately have a gynormous crush on Castiel?” Dean scoffed and turned the leather bound book over in his hands. “No, Dean, seriously. The nightly walks? The staring? The not so innocent bumps in the hallway? Everytime you think no one's watching you give Castiel this look, like he holds all the secrets in the world and you just want to get in there and unlock the puzzle.” Dean looked up then to shoot Sam a steely glare. “Admit it or not, I don’t care, but you should at least let him know why you’re drooling over him.”
“I am not drooling, goddamnit!” Dean scowled as he stalked off towards the register. Sam following closely at his heels.
“Dean!” Sam grabbed his shoulder and whipped him around. “Just, promise me you’ll think about it. I don’t want to see you lose him because you were too afraid to at least try.” Dean sighed, conceding to Sam because, as annoying as it was, Sam had a point.
“Yeah, Sam, okay.” Dean tried to shrug his brother’s hand off his shoulder but Sam gripped him tighter, a look on his face that was clearly disbelief. “Sam. I promise. I’ll try when the time is right.”
They finished up their shopping and headed home to pick up the other boys. It was a tradition that the Winchester men would go out on December 21st, the first day of winter, and pick out which lucky tree would grace the Winchester living room. Castiel spent the whole drive there asking ridiculous questions about how to pick out a tree. He rattled off question after question, making Dean set his jaw and grind his teeth until finally he turned to Castiel and snapped that when they saw the perfect tree they would feel it in their bones. Castiel seemed to take this as a good enough answer and was silent the last couple miles to the lot. Once there they went their separate ways, Castiel practically running into the field of trees. Dean shook his head and walked calmly to the first line to start scanning for The One. Half an hour later Dean toppled over as Castiel came barreling into him from the opposite side of the tree line. “Woah, Cas. You need to calm down.” Castiel had him pinned to the ground by the shoulders, cheeks flushed with exercise and eyes impossibly bright with excitement. It made a knot in Dean’s stomach grow impossible tight to look up into them.
“I apologize. But Dean, I found it.” Castiel was beaming now, proud smile carving into his face from ear to ear. “The One, as you say.” Castiel didn’t wait for an answer, just took Dean’s hand in his and pulled him up to his feet. He lead Dean enthusiastically through the maze of trees until they stopped in front of the most impressive tree Dean had ever seen. They stood together gazing up at it for a while. Castiel was right, this was definitely The One. He looked over at Castiel who was beaming with pride back at Dean, he realized then that Castiel hadn’t let his hand go and blushed slightly as he quickly dropped his friend’s hand before awkwardly patting Castiel on the shoulder.
“It’s a beaut, Cas.” Dean whistled long and low then, signaling Sam to come meet them so they could haul the tree out to the car. The high pitched answer wasn’t far off and in no time they had paid the lot owner and wrestled the tree on top of the Impala. Gabriel lead an enthusiastic round of caroling on the drive home, with everyone but Dean joining in. His mind was still thinking about his promise to Sam earlier. When the hell would be the right time? He couldn’t just blurt it out one day over breakfast, and he certainly didn’t want to say anything until he thought Castiel might feel similarly back. Up until that moment, Dean hadn’t paid enough attention to Castiel’s actions towards him to even guess at how his friend felt. He was more worried about hiding his growing crush, than finding out if Castiel felt the same. He resolved to put the matter to rest before they went back for the school year, solidifying the resolution in his mind as he threw the Impala into park on the drive way.
After wrangling the tree into the house and setting it just so in the living room, Gabriel called it a night and plopped himself on the couch to enjoy ABC Family’s twenty five days of Christmas. Everyone else agreed and arranged themselves around the living room, deciding that tomorrow they would decorate. Dean drifted to sleep in the armchair, comforted by the sound of claymation Rudolph and the intoxicating aroma of pine. He awoke with a start, discovering that everyone had cleared out of the living room. Everything was silent in the house as Dean carefully picked his way up the stairs, avoiding the spots that creaked. He was busy trying to make his way back to bed when he bumped straight into a solid mass. Staggering backwards, he was caught by a firm hand to the bicep, looking up he recognized the blue gleam of Castiel’s eyes in the darkness.
“Dean?” Castiel whispered.
“Yeah, Cas. What are you doing up?” Dean whispered back, righting himself under Castiel’s firm grip.
“I was coming to check on you. I woke up and noticed you still hadn’t made it to bed.” Dean’s throat grew dry. Castiel didn’t usually wake up. Dean would know as he’d spent long nights up, contemplating the conflicting feelings Castiel brought up in him. Not once had Castiel stirred from his slumber, not even to go to the bathroom.
“Are you okay?” Dean stepped forward and placed a hand on Castiel’s chest. His shirt was cold with sweat and Dean noticed that Castiel was looking especially pale in the darkness. “You’re freezing.”
“I, I had a disturbing dream.” Castiel breathes, falling forward into the press of Dean’s hand. Dean shifts his grip and pulls Castiel into his arm, guiding him back towards the bedroom while rubbing soft circles into the dip of Castiel’s back. Silently, Dean gently lowered Castiel into a sitting position on his bed.
“Cas,” Dean tips his friends head so that their eyes can meet, “what happened?”
“It was nothing, a distorted memory.” Castiel tenses under Dean’s hold. Dean doesn’t say anything, knowing that if Castiel wanted to talk about it, he would. Sure enough, moments later Castiel lets out a ragged sigh and begins, “I dreamed about my home life. Not the one with my parents, but when I was raised by my uncle.” Dean stays silent, absorbing the new information. “My uncle was, strict. He held me back from many opportunities growing up. Raphael's ideas for my future varied greatly with my father’s. I struggled under his guardianship.” Castiel’s eyes glazed over, lost in memory. Dean reached over with his free hand and gave Castiel’s a light squeeze, effectively snapping Castiel out of his trance. “My father tried very hard to raise me after my mother died. But, his job made it impossible for him to stay home at all times. I was sent to live with my uncle six months after my mother’s funeral.” Castiel’s voice was shaking and he looked on the verge of tears. Dean brought the arm that was rubbing circles into Castiel’s back up and around his shoulder into a tight embrace.
“Shh, it’s okay, Cas.” Dean whispered into his friend’s ear. “You don’t have to talk about it.”
“I do.” Castiel pulled back, blue eyes fierce with determination. Dean nodded and shifted so that he was cross legged on the bed, facing Castiel as the other boy pulled his feet from the floor and wrapped his arms around his knees. “My father was a doctor as well. He’s where Ana and I got our inspiration from. He signed up for Doctors without Borders not long after Michael died. Claiming that he’d received a sign, that he was needed. I thought he was a hero. Now, I’m not sure if he was doing the right thing or just running away from the pain. He came home when he could, but he never stayed for long. My mother’s deteriorating condition and the absence of most of his children drove him out of the house. I didn’t blame him. Not one bit, I saw the pain written across both of my parents faces, a pain that never went away after Ana. I was so young, I didn’t know what to do. When my mother passed, my father came home for a while. He made his new project researching the disease that had taken his beloved away from him. He obsessed over it, passing the obsession onto me. We worked together for months, I was only eight, I dove head first into the research, even though I didn’t understand half of what I was reading. We couldn’t come up with anything, and after six months my father went back to the program and left me with my uncle. He fully intended for me to continue my studies, but Raphael had other ideas.” Castiel’s voice had gone from sorrowful to heated at the last statement. He clenched his knees tighter to himself and chewed on his lip forcefully. Dean couldn’t help but stare, thinking about how he wanted to comfort Castiel, give in and take all this pain away one kiss at a time. So not the time Winchester. Shaking off the traitorous thoughts, Dean put a hand out to Castiel’s shoulder. Castiel was tense, but melted slightly into Dean’s grasp. “Raphael didn’t send me to school, or hire a tutor. He fully intended on ignoring my existence upon my arrival. I was okay with that. I spent most of my time wandering his large home, or in the library, reading every book I could get my hands on. When I was thirteen I received a letter from Tibet. It stated simply that my father had caught a disease while helping a small village in the forests of Zayul and had passed. Raphael didn’t even bother bringing his body home.” Castiel’s voice and shoulders were shaking violently and Dean reached over to rub comforting circles again. After a few moments Castiel took a deep breath and continued, “my father’s death and the treatment I receive at the hands of my uncle were both catalysts for my education. I sought out my own tutor, and earned my high school diploma, determined to send myself to medical school. My uncle fought me at every opportunity, but eventually he lost. He was a very old man by the time I came of age and not long after I received my diploma did he pass away. I was relieved at first, happy to gain my inheritance and head out on my own and make my own future, but then I realized that I was truly alone. With the passing of my uncle, I lost the last family member I had.” Dean’s heart clenched tightly, Castiel had been through too much. He had no idea what to say, John had always taught the boys that family was everything. How do you comfort someone who had lost everything?
Dean shifted closer to Castiel, wrapping his arms around his friend and letting Castiel break apart in his embrace. Slowly they shifted in the bed and Dean brought Castiel down to lay next to him, humming softly and rubbing up and down Castiel’s spine, like he used to do to Sam when he’d crawled into Dean’s bed late at night after waking up from a nightmare. At that moment Dean knew how he felt about Castiel would never matter. Castiel needed a friend and Dean wouldn’t mess that up. Sam would have to deal with it. Castiel’s breathing stilled under Dean’s comfort and slowly, they drifted off to sleep. Just before Dean fell from consciousness, Castiel whispered a soft thank you into his shoulder, which Dean answered with a gentle hug.
The next morning Dean awoke to an empty bed, he wandered down the stairs and had half convinced himself that last night's events has been a dream when he saw Castiel perched on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, eyes still puffy and red from crying. Definitely not a dream. He looked up at Dean’s entry and gave a small, weak smile. Dean nodded and went to the kitchen, pouring a mug of coffee for both him and Castiel. Strolling back out into the living room, he passed a mug to Castiel, who gladly accepted, slowly closing his eyes and taking a long deep sip. Dean settled himself on the couch next to Castiel and put his feet up on the coffee table.
“Where’s Sam and Gabe?” Dean inquired between sips.
“I believe they’re out buying decorations.” Castiel answered calmly.
“We have a whole box downstairs.” Dean grumbled.
“I also believe Gabriel dropped it this morning.” Dean groaned and took a deep drink of coffee. Castiel smiles softly, “if I am guessing correctly, they were hoping to replace them before you found out.”
“Too bad for Sammy, I find out everything.” Dean winked at Castiel before he could stop himself. Castiel held his gaze calmly for what felt like an eternity before dropping his eyes and staring at the dark liquid in the mug.
“Dean, last night,” Castiel started, Dean nearly choked on his coffee. He wasn’t expecting to discuss the topic further, especially not in full daylight where Castiel could see Dean undress him with his eyes. “I just wanted to thank you again. I haven’t really allowed myself to form relationships since my uncle passed. You’re an amazing friend. I am truly grateful that you’ve allowed me here, it meant more to me than you could possibly know that you invited me for the holidays.”
“Well, I couldn’t just leave you there alone for Christmas!” Dean exclaimed, trying to break up the tension that had built again. “What are friends for?” He flashed Castiel his most charming smile before rising to stretch. “Hey, what do you say to a big ol’ stack of hotcakes drowned in syrup?” Castiel’s eyes brightened and he nodded vigorously. “Great! Let’s get going before the breakfast rush starts at the diner.”
Castiel frowned, “Dean, I am still in my pajamas.” Dean allowed himself to runs his eyes up and down Castiel’s form, rarely seeing him straight out of bed, even when they’d been at the dorms. Castiel’s well worn flannel pants hung off his hips, dependant on the sharp outlines of his hip bones to keep them from slipping down. His shirt was tighter than Dean had ever seen, which wasn’t saying much since Castiel’s t-shirts usually hung off of his smaller frame. This one clung to his upper body, shoulders and biceps framed nicely in heather grey cotton. It must have been from years ago because it was a little too small, revealing a sliver of skin between the edge of the shirt and the very tops of Castiel’s underwear waistband.
Dean took it all in one final time before smiling mischievously at Castiel, “you look great, now let’s go.” Before Castiel had a chance to protest, Dean was steering him towards the door and forcing his coat and shoes on him. Castiel grumbled the entire time about indecency of going out in bed clothes but Dean paid him no mind, directing Castiel swiftly into the passenger seat of the Impala. They each ordered two stacks of pancakes and cleared them with little trouble, all the while Dean doing his best to make Castiel laugh. At one point he even got Castiel to laugh so hard juice came out of his nose, which made them both laugh even harder. When the bill came Dean gave an extra tip due to the disturbance they had made, but couldn’t muster up enough energy to feel sorry about it. Castiel was no longer worrying about wearing his pajamas in public and was far from upset over his confession last night. As they stepped through the entrance back at the house, they could hear Sam and Gabriel rustling around in the living room. They rushed in to see what they were up to and stopped in shock at the threshold, the living room had been transformed. The tree was decorated in gold orbs with silver tinsel artfully strewn across the branches. On top sat their mother’s old brass star that glittered in the light reflected off the other ornaments from the small twinkling white lights strung over the branches. Sam and Gabriel were busy over at the fireplace, setting out stockings when the other two entered.
“Dude, Sam.” Sam turned around to face his brother, registering the awe on Dean’s face and smiling with pride at the tree himself.
“I know right? It’s awesome!” Sam exclaimed. “Hey, Cas!” Castiel turned to look at the youngest Winchester. “We got you a stocking too!” He held up a white stocking that had a kitten embroidered on it with the soft blue eyes and a candy cane in its mouth, across the top was written “Cassie” in pastel pink. Castiel pulled a face which made Sam laugh, but then Castiel’s eyes softened and Dean remembered what Castiel had said this morning. It meant more to me than you could possibly know that you invited me for the holidays.
Dean slung an arm around Castiel’s shoulder and squeezed quickly, “welcome to the family, Cas.” Castiel looked up at him, eyes glassy and a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Team Holidays, as Gabriel dubbed them, spent the next couple of days decorating the house inside and out. Sam insisted that they have the house in full holiday swing for when John came back on Christmas Eve. While Gabriel and Sam decorated the living room the night before John came home, Castiel and Dean were given the duty of cookie baking. Dean was shocked to find that Castiel was a skilled baker. He knew the kid could cook, whenever it was Castiel’s turn to make breakfast they all feasted like kings on near gourmet food. Baking was another thing though. It didn’t seem to bother Castiel, whirling around the kitchen, gathering up ingredients and throwing together dough without a recipe. With sugar cookies in the oven, gingerbread cooling on the rack and Castiel’s hands in a bowl of shortbread batter, Dean snickered as he whipped the frosting. “What is it Dean?” Castiel looked up from where he was kneading the dough together. Dean looked at him and smiled.
“Nothing, you just remind me of my mom when she baked.” Dean smirked again and went back to mixing. “She never really made cookies though, just pie. But God, could that woman make a pie.”
“The housekeepers usually baked for the holidays. But I used to make them teach me. I always loved baking and cooking. It took my mind off of things around me, plus I got to use my energy to create something delicious.” Castiel was smirking back at Dean, and Dean chuckled, reaching over to rub a streak of flour from Castiel’s cheek.
“You’re something else, Castiel.” Castiel pursed his lips and wrinkled his brow in confusion at the statement, causing Dean to laugh again and nearly spill frosting over the edge of the bowl. Once the shortbread was in the oven and Castiel had exchanged the still hot sugar cookies for the cooled gingerbread, they started to decorate the tiny sugary men. Castiel showed Dean how to use a plastic sandwich bag as a makeshift piping bag and together they created an army of sweet little soldiers. They repeated the steps for the variously shaped sugar cookies, decorating stars and snowmen and other shapes with the remaining frosting, mixing food coloring together “for accuracy,” as Dean stated. When the shortbread had cooled Dean reached around to place them in the decorating zone, but Castiel quickly batted his hands away, claiming that if Dean put even a speck of icing on a shortbread cookie Castiel would skin him alive and use his blood as food coloring. Dean laughed in his face, but obeyed, secretly terrified that Castiel might actually make good on his threat.
The rest of the night passed quickly and by the time both sections of Team Holidays had completed their assigned missions, the house was a vision of cheer and smelled deliciously of cookies and sticky sweet pine needles. They congratulated each other on a job well done and turned into bed, Dean didn’t even have the energy to protest as Gabriel followed Sam up the stairs and into his bedroom.
Dean woke up to shouting from the kitchen the next morning. He scrambled out of bed and hurtled down the stairs, skidding to a stop just as Sam slammed the phone down on the receiver. “Dad can’t make it,” was all Sam said as he stomped out of the house, grabbing his jacket and slipping on his shoes in one motion.
“I’ll get him,” Gabriel volunteered, hurriedly slinging on his own coat and following his boyfriend out the door.
Dean sank onto one of the stools at the breakfast island with a frustrated sigh. He buried his face in his hands, rubbing circles around his eyeballs with the heels of his palms. He felt a warmth on his back and realized that Castiel was rubbing his back between his shoulder blades in the same way that Dean had done for Castiel a few nights ago. It calmed him down and he slowly pulled his face from his hands. “Dean?” Castiel’s voice brought him back to himself. He twirled around on the stool and faced Castiel.
“We go on like nothing happened. My dad said he would make it for Christmas, so that gives him about twenty hours to get his ass back here or we start Christmas without him. Sam’s going to be heated for a while, but Gabriel will calm him down and he’ll be back soon enough. For now, let’s just start cooking for tomorrow.” Castiel looked down into Dean’s eyes for a moment, studying his face carefully before nodding and turning to the kitchen cabinets to bring out the pots and pans.
They cooked together for hours. Castiel holding his patience with Dean, and Dean admiring the way Castiel gracefully worked his way through the dishes, checking and double checking up on Dean’s progress. They barely noticed Gabriel dragging Sam through the door. Dean dropped everything and grabbed his little brother from Gabriel’s arms. Sam looked down at Dean, eyes bloodshot and still glossy with tears, hair sticking to the wet spots on his cheeks. Dean gave him a warm hug, and sent him upstairs with Gabriel to rest. He returned to find Castiel chopping celery for the stuffing.
“How is he?” Castiel asked, not looking up from the task at hand.
“He’ll live.” Dean answered, popping a hunk of bread into his mouth. “I think he just needs to sleep it off. Him and Dad, they always managed to fight about something. Sammy takes it a lot harder when Dad doesn’t pull through like he says he will.” Dean reached across the counter for another scoop of bread when Castiel smacked his hand with the flat edge of the blade.
“Dean Winchester,” Castiel’s eyes grew dark as he pointed the knife inches from Dean’s nose, “if you do not stop eating the ingredients, I will cook you up instead of the turkey.” Dean smiled at that, and for a brief moment, thought about how far he could push Castiel before he actually tried to go through with any of his threats. Deciding that it was worth the risk, as soon as Castiel turned his back, Dean grabbed another handful of bread. With Castiel’s super senses, he whipped around and stared directly at Dean, who was caught red handed, mouth full of dry stuffing. He smiled around the lump of food in his cheek but the damage was done. Castiel was around the counter and chasing Dean into the living room before Dean could register what happened. Castiel tackled him to the floor, nearly knocking both of their heads against the coffee table in the process. Castiel rolled them over so he was straddling Dean’s chest, trying to pry his fingers into Dean’s palms to retrieve the stolen bread. Dean was busy laughing as Castiel’s knee pushed up into his armpit, tickling him and sending him squirming into a fit of laughter. As Castiel realized what was happening, he pushed his other knee into the opposite arm pit and had Dean crying and wriggling violently underneath him in no time. Castiel apparently found this helpless restrained version of Dean to be equally hilarious, giving up his quest to retrieve the bread in order to use his hands to attack Dean even more. Dean gave a final violent jerk and threw Castiel halfway off of his chest, breathing heavily as his laughter died down. He rolled his head to the side to meet Castiel’s gaze, his blue eyes sparkling with joy, cheeks flushed from laughter. He looked incredible, and Dean felt a familiar heat pool in his stomach as he watched Castiel slowly pull himself up from the floor, following the line of his body as it unfolded itself. Castiel stared down at Dean for another long moment, before offering his friend a hand in getting up. Dean accepted and let his hand linger in Castiel’s just a moment when he’d straightened out. With a mischievous look, Dean popped the last of the stolen bread into his mouth and Castiel rolled his eyes and shoved him backwards, sending Dean sprawling out on his ass on the floor, laughing like a madman. Dean scrambled up to follow Castiel back into the kitchen, where he was given the job of dishwasher, so as to keep his hands out of as much food as possible.
Sam slept for the rest of the night and Gabriel left at around eleven thirty, claiming that his parents were going to try and drag him to church in the morning so he’d better head in for the night. They said their goodbyes and Dean and Castiel curled up on the couch together as they waited for the last of the food to finish cooking. Dean turned on twenty four hours of A Christmas Story and they watched it twice before turning all the appliances off and calling it a night. Dean just settled into bed and closed his eyes when he heard the door open and moments later felt the bed dip. He turned and met his brother’s gaze with soft affection. He gathered Sam into his arms and whispered, “Merry Christmas, Sammy,” into his little brother’s hairline before settling down and promptly passing out.
“Dean! Dean, come on wake up.” Sam’s hissing whisper cut through Dean’s sleep like a knife. Groaning wearily he pushed himself up out of bed to rub the sleep from his eyes.
“What is it, Sammy?” Slowly opening his eyes to adjust them to the early morning light.
“You’re just gonna have to come see for yourself.” Sam said as he tugged his brother all the way out of bed and towards the door. “Come on, Dean!”
Dean made his way downstairs slowly Sam trailing behind him, but somewhere in between the top and bottom step his brain became suddenly aware that a heavenly smell was wafting from the kitchen. Pie! Dean shuffled into the kitchen eagerly, following the scent as his mouth dripped drool slightly from the corners. His jaw dropped, taking in the sight before him. Castiel was hovering over the stove that already had two pies on it. Even more surprising was the figure seated on the island, recounting Christmas stories from years ago. “Dad?”
John Winchester turned slowly to face his two sons, a smile creeping across his face, “Hey there, Dean. Sammy.” He stood and both boys rushed to embrace their father.
“But Sam said - “ Dean started, burying his face in his father’s worn leather jacket.
“Yeah, I know. I called yesterday to say I wouldn’t be home. But then I got a call late last night from your friend over here,” John nudged his head towards Castiel, who blushed and turned back to the pies. “He told me I better get my sorry ass back here if I knew what was good for me.” Dean laughed at that, pulling away from the hug.
“Castiel, you didn’t!” Sam’s face a mixture of shock and deep gratitude.
“I simply informed your father of how important his presence was today.” Castiel stated, still hovering over the pie. “It was nothing.”
“Nothing my ass, Cas.” Dean snapped playfully, turning back to his father. “What time did you get in?”
“Uh, ‘bout four. I found your friend here in the kitchen setting up for what I’m guessing will be a pie marathon.” Castiel turned around and smiled sheepishly at Dean.
“I found your mother’s cookbook, I wasn’t sure if your father would make it on time and I just, I wanted to do something special for you.” He was looking straight in Dean’s eyes as he said this and Dean was transfixed, frozen in a pleasant shock that Castiel would do so much for him and Sam. “For all of you.” Castiel’s gaze scanned the room, landing on each Winchester so they felt the impact of this gesture of kindness.
John stepped up and pulled Castiel into a tight embrace, catching Castiel off guard and shaking him around in a rough hug that left him looking like an oversized rag doll. “You’re alright, you know that?” John pulled back and reached a hand up to pat Castiel’s face gently. “If these pies taste half as good as your cookies, then I’m sure we’re all in for a treat.”
Castiel blushed at this and gave a small nod. John retreated to his room to change out of his road-worn clothing and the boys left Castiel in the kitchen to arrange presents under the tree. Castiel had already brought his impeccably wrapped packages down and laid them out in an arrangement that reminded Dean of the catalogues that stores sent out for the holidays. Dean placed his newspaper wrapped gifts around Castiel’s and Sam laughed at him for still using newspaper. Dean shoved him back, in mock annoyance, smiling down proudly at his presents. Sam arranged his around Dean’s, keeping a small package to himself, for later, he explained, when Gabriel came over.
By the time the boys had finished arranging the tree, John made his way downstairs, arms full of store wrapped boxes. “Couldn’t come home empty handed now, could I?” John teased as he let his sons take the gifts from his hands and set them around the already full tree. Then they all settled into their usual spots, John in the armchair, Sam on the couch, and Dean on the floor in front of the fireplace.
“Cas!” Dean called. “Come on, man. Present time!”
Castiel emerged, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel, eyes wide with delight. “Presents?”
“Yeah, dude. It is Christmas after all.” Dean beamed up at him from his spot on the floor. Castiel smiled wide, flinging the towel behind him and scurrying over to settle down next to Dean.
“Castiel, why don’t you play Santa?” John offered. Castiel looked up at him in confusion.
“He means pass the presents out.” Dean provided. Castiel nodded and went about distributing the gifts. By the time he’d finished each Winchester had a decent sized pile in front of them and Castiel settled in front of his own pile, staring at it in awe. “Okay, so, Cas, here’s how this goes. Youngest goes first, which is Sammy. Then you, then me, then Dad. After we go through one round, it’s free for all!” Castiel pried his eyes off his presents to give Dean a quick nod. All eyes turned to Sam as he ripped open his first gift. It was a briefcase from the second hand store at the mall. Sam held it over his head in victory. “For when you ship off to Stanford!” Dean exclaimed, Sam’s infectious energy spreading to him.
“It’s perfect, Dean!” Castiel’s turn came next, he gingerly unwrapped the newspaper and stared down at the book in his lap.
“I, uh, I didn’t know if you’d read it but, I thought it might be your thing.” Dean explained, Castiel looked up at him, eyes soft and mouth quirked up slightly. Dean melted a little, unable to control himself.
“Thank you.” Castiel whispered as he turned the book over in his hands. Dean nodded and turned his attention to the large box sitting in front of him. He eyed his father suspiciously before tearing into it, revealing a new record player.
“I know you broke your old one. You can’t hide anything from me.” John teased as Dean turned it over in his hands. John opened his gift from his sons, a new pocket watch with a picture compartment. John turned it over and read the inscription outloud. “Produce great men, the rest follows - Whitman. Love, Sam and Dean” John looked up at his two boys with misty eyes.
“I looked up the quote, but Dean engraved it the other day over at Bobby’s.” Sam supplied. John turned the watch over in his hands, smiling down at it.
“It’s wonderful.” John said, not taking his eyes off the watch. After that, everyone tore into their presents. Sam’s consisted of mostly college related items, which was to be expected seeing as he would be graduating in less than six months. Castiel unwrapped Thoreau's Walden from John and a fine leather bound journal from Sam. Dean received a year’s subscription to Classic Cars from Sam and a box of gently used tapes from Castiel. John was the last to open his presents, busy watching the three young men in front of him turn into eight year olds again as they unwrapped each of their presents. Quietly, while the excitement was concentrated on other gifts, John unwrapped another bundle from his sons, a number one dad mug and some office supplies, smiling nostalgically he placed it aside to turn the the last present. It was marked from Castiel and John tilted his head up to watch his son’s friend interact with Sam, reading a passage out of The Divine Comedy and discussing basic principles of theology. John smiled softly at the boy who’d found his own way into the family so quickly. He looked down at the gift and gently unwrapped it, revealing a handmade book. John flicked through the pages, each one containing a handwritten recipe. Most he recognized as Mary’s own creations, which Castiel must have gathered up from their scattered places in the kitchen. Others were foreign to him, but Castiel had written small notes on each describing their significance. In the very back John found a note, it read:
“Dear John, the more I spend time with your family the more I feel a connection to both you and your sons. Dean has welcomed me with open arms at a time in my life when I had let myself believe that I was destined to walk my life’s journey alone. I may not have known you for very long, but the stories that Dean tells me have supplied enough information that I believe this gift will benefit you, and in turn, your family. I thank you humbly for your efforts in welcoming me, and your efforts in raising such fine children. Sam is exceptionally bright and Dean has become the closest friend I’ve ever had.
Merry Christmas,
Castiel Novak”
A tear rolled down John’s cheek and he wiped it away quickly. He looked up to find Castiel staring at him, shoulders tense and waiting. John gave the boy a small smile and appreciative nod and Castiel’s body relaxed, giving John a smile in return before turning his attention back to Dean who was showing him something in the first issue of the magazine.
The rest of the night passed calmly, Gabriel came over just in time for dinner and they all ate until they were groaning in pain. Then they piled into the living room to watch National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, each with a hearty portion of Castiel’s pie, which everyone claimed was the most delicious pie they’d ever tasted. By the time the movie ended, everyone had fallen asleep besides Castiel. He looked around and gently removed himself from the spot on the couch between Dean and Gabriel. Pulling on his coat he shuffled in stocking feet outside to sit on the porch swing. Castiel sat in silence, folding one leg up onto the bench of the swing and leaving one down to gently rock himself back and forth. Eventually he grew cold, but then only wrapped his coat around himself tighter, refusing to break the serenity of the night.
“Cas?” Castiel turned to find Dean, wrapped in a blanket from the couch, hovering by the doorway. Dean gave him a hesitant look, “what are you doing out here?”
“I just needed a moment.” Castiel said, tilting his head towards the open spot on the bench in invitation. Dean accepted and scurried over to sit down, bare feet padding across the cold wood.
They sat together, staring at the stars for a while. “Are you okay, Cas?” Dean asked setting both of his feet down to rock them. Castiel lifted his leg up to join the other as he wrapped his arms around his knees.
“Yes, Dean.” Castiel said, staring at the moon and absorbing the silver light it cast over his face. Dean stared at his friend’s profile in return, worry etched over his features. Castiel finally turned his head to face Dean and gave him a small smile that was entirely genuine. As Dean relaxed, Castiel’s smile grew wider. He turned back to face the moon, studying it with joy brightening his entire face, “tonight was the first time in a very long time that I felt like I was part of a family. It was nice.” Castiel dropped his gaze to the tops of his knees. “I want to thank you.”
Dean scooted closer so he could place an arm around Castiel’s shoulder. “Don’t mention it, man.” He had just settled next to Castiel when the other boy turned his head, bringing their faces inches from each other. Dean’s breathing hitched as Castiel fixed his brilliant blue gaze on Dean’s features. Castiel leaned in and Dean shut his eyes, unwilling to believe what was happening. Waiting for the impact, his entire body braced for the moment of contact. Castiel moved closer, Dean could feel the his friend’s breathing ghosting over his face, the warmth of him radiating through the centimeters between them. But then the moment faded just as quickly as it had come, Castiel pressing his face to the side of Dean’s neck in an awkward hug. Dean let out a breath and wrapped his arms around his friend. Castiel started shaking and Dean pulled back quickly to study his face. There were tears in his eyes, but Castiel hadn’t stopped smiling. He let out a strangled laugh and took Dean’s hands from his shoulders gently.
“I am not sad, Dean.” Castiel said, wiping the stray drops from his cheeks. “In actuality, I am the happiest that I can ever remember being.” Castiel smiled so wide then that Dean’s mind shut down. The look on his face was stunning. His eyes were bright from both tears and joy, smile open all the way, letting the moonlight reflect off of his pearly teeth. There were tiny smile lines in the crinkles of his nose and corners of his eyes. Dean was enamored with it, with seeing Castiel this way. His heart ached at the fact that he had brought this on Castiel. He closed the distance again with a firm hug. He unwrapped the blanket from around himself and offered half of it to Castiel. They huddled close and watched the stars, Castiel pointing out different constellations and recounting the myths that went along with them.
After Castiel had run out of stories, Dean hooked an arm around his friend’s shoulder. Castiel settled into it lazily and rested his head against Dean’s arm. “Merry Christmas, Cas.”
“Merry Christmas, Dean.”
Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Epilogue |