An Unconventional Kind of Place : Christmas Special
PG
4,995 words
Dean/Castiel AU. Dean runs a day care center for human and angel kids, the first of its kind. Castiel is a parent.
This is set a few months after the latest part, chapter 9, after Dean and Cas has known each other just that little longer.
Merry Christmas and a great New Year to all of you, and I hope you enjoy!
An Unconventional Kind of Place : Christmas Special
In the weeks running up to Christmas, between shoveling his car out of feet of snow every morning, trying not to buy John every single toy and game Dean thinks he might like and arranging the day care's end of year party, it's something Dean thinks about a lot.
From John, who is slowly becoming an encyclopedia on angel stuff, he learns that angels only celebrate the holidays insofar as humanity does. Their representatives attend the celebrations of all the human religions they are invited to, and those involved in human affairs return to heaven where everyone is on vacation.
"Liwet says that angel-time works different," John says and he looks like he understands that about as much as Dean.
Uriel tells him, cryptically, "The birth of the son is remembered every day," then adds distastefully," angels have no need for the commercialism of your festivals."
But whatever, it all suggests to Dean that Cas and Liwet will be free on Christmas day, and it gives him ideas.
Usually they'd spend the day with Bobby and Sam, but this year Bobby's somehow ended up stranded in a remote hunting lodge with Rufus.
"We have supplies," Bobby had shouted down the crackling, hissing phone line. "We'll be fine. Hopefully it'll clear up enough to be back for New Year." Dean could've sworn he heard the clinking of bottles in the background.
And Sam has gone and gotten himself invited to dinner at the parents of his new, secret girlfriend.
"I'll tell them I can't make it," Sam had decided when he'd told Dean about it, except, well, his brother looked torn and that's when Dean had had his idea.
It had taken some doing, but Dean had finally convinced Sam he and John would be fine on their own. That it'd be awesome to have a quiet holiday together.
"Anyone'd think you were trying to get rid of me," Sam had scoffed.
"Never," Dean had replied truthfully before extracting a promise that Sam would be spending the New Year with them and not at some fancy lawyer champagne gig.
"You gonna invite Castiel for New Year?" Sam had asked, and Dean had replied, "Maybe," because Sam was a nosy asshole.
The last day of term is mayhem. For the first time since the day care opened all the human and angel parents manage to attend the kids' show and after party despite the bad weather.
It's been years since Dean has seen this much snow and it's a nightmare clearing the paths every day, twice a day, and making sure the heating is working properly. Even the angel kids arrive bundled up in coats and scarves even if their parents don't.
He asks Castiel about this one afternoon, eying his usual thin trench coat and seeming imperviousness to the chill in the air.
"The children have not yet learned to thermoregulate their bodies," he tells him, and Dean guesses that makes sense.
At the party Dean dresses as Santa, because Uriel refused, and hands out chocolate and sweets from a sack. The angel kids and their parents mostly look confused, but they all like the chocolate so it works out.
"Kit Kat?" Dean offers Castiel and enjoys the way the angel takes in his red suit and fake stomach with amusement.
"This is a new look for you," Cas says, and takes the candy.
"I've always thought red was my color," Dean grins, and is then whisked away by an over-excited Camael. Dean knew giving that kid sugar was a bad idea.
He doesn't get to talk to Cas again until the end of the day. He's exhausted and there's still a shitload of clearing up to do before he can go home but it's been an awesome day and Dean is happy to wish all the kids and their parents a great holiday.
Lee and Castiel are, as usual, the last to leave.
"Thank you for the party, Mr. Dean," Lee says, hugging Dean's legs. The kid has a bag of candy in his hand and is wearing a Santa hat and someone has hung an ornament from the tips of his left wing.
"Dude," Dean laughs. "I like the decoration."
"He insisted," Castiel says. He's standing behind Lee, shaking his head at the shiny ornament.
"I believe Liwet ate too much cake."
Dean sympathizes. He can see John running tirelessly from one side of the classroom to the other ferrying empty cups and paper plates and Dean is not looking forward to getting him to bed tonight.
"Sorry Cas," Dean commiserates. "It's kinds of tradition. Get the kids hyped up on unhealthy food. Regret it later."
Cas huffs a laugh. "We had a very good time, in any case," he says and Lee nods emphatically in agreement.
"Hey, so, are you guys busy on Christmas day?" Me and John are gonna be making dinner, maybe watching some TV. Nothing exciting, but we'd like to see you."
Cas looks surprised. "Is Christmas not a day you spend with family?" he asks, confused.
"Yeah, and friends. Bobby and Sam are away this year so me and John thought we'd see if you guys wanted to try out a human Christmas?"
It's not so hard to ask Cas things like this anymore, Dean realizes. It probably makes it easier that he never says no.
When Dean had suggested this idea to John he'd been excited as hell so Dean hopes they can make it this time too.
Lee turns to Castiel and Dean can see he's got his most pleading expression on. "Can we go?" he asks solemnly.
There is no way Castiel is going to be able to deny that, and Dean wonders at how human and angel kids are as sneaky as each other.
Unsurprisingly, Castiel caves. "If we are welcome, of course," and that settles it.
They sit beside a real tree, the first Dean's ever bought, taking up half their front room but Dean can't regret buying it because it smells incredible and John loves it. Everyday when he comes down for breakfast he greets it with a "Hello, tree." He's so damned proud of the thing after all the hours he and Dean spent decorating it. Dean even got the log fire going because it's freezing outside, snow falling steadily. He has plans to roast things over it later, like marshmallows or other disgustingly sweet things.
Dean's surprised Sam's crappy car even started in this weather. But here he is, bright and early, because he knows John's awake pretty much at the crack of dawn on Christmas morning. He's smiling like a maniac and his arms are filled with expensive looking packages. Sometimes Dean kind of doesn't like how much Sam gives to them. He's too used to supporting his little brother and too proud for handouts, but it's for John so he can't complain. Sam spoils John something terrible sometimes.
He's only just managed to get John dressed and eating his breakfast and at the first knock on the door John knows who it is. Unsurprisingly, Sam has bought John books, but there's also video games, clothes, a new sports bag, and about a billion Lego sets. There's no mistaking that they're all Heaven Lego sets. John loves them.
"Funny," Dean tells Sam as they both watch John building up his first cloud from white blocks.
"I thought it was appropriate," Sam grins smugly.
They're drinking hot mugs of the expensive coffee Sam bought him and Dean's starting to wish he'd spat in Sam's.
"You hanging out till they arrive?" Dean asks. Not that there can be any doubt, what with Sam's weird angel expression.
Sam nods, unrepentant, and joins John on the floor to help him stick plastic wings onto the backs of Lego men.
"Yeah," Dean snorts, "that's what I thought."
"I like this one," John declares, holding up a Lego man. "He's got wings like Lee."
Smiling like an idiot and trying to hide it Dean retreats into the kitchen before Sam sees. He starts fussing with the preparation for dinner. He checks that he has everything five times over, rereads the recipe three times, and checks the messages on his cell every ten minutes or so, paranoid that Castiel is going to cancel on him at the last minute. But just before eleven the doorbell rings, and all three of them hurry to the door. If anyone had seen the way they all tripped over one another in the narrow hallway Dean would have died of shame.
As soon as the door is open John throws himself at Lee, hugging him and wishing him Merry Christmas and telling him he has a present for him inside and that their tree is awesome. Both Lee and Castiel look caught off guard by John's enthusiasm.
"Hi," Dean greets. He'd prefer they didn't scare the crap out of the angels before they'd even gotten through the door.
Castiel says, "Hello, Dean," and then they're staring at each other again, and Dean doesn't know why, but it's cool. He'd keep right on staring except it's frigging cold on the doorstep.
"Come on in," Dean offers, moving aside and shoving Sam out of the way.
Castiel brushes the snow off of Lee's wings, and then the kids are running inside, disappearing into the front room, John pulling Lee by the hand.
"Dean says you guys don't celebrate Christmas," Sam says, as they follow more slowly after them. Castiel is carrying a bottle shaped package in his hands. Dean knows he told him multiple times he didn't have to bring anything.
"Not on this day," Castiel replies.
In the front room John is pulling Lee down to sit beside him on the floor. Castiel holds out the bottle to Dean.
"I knew you said it was unnecessary, but I thought it polite.'
"I really did mean you guys only needed to bring yourselves," but Dean takes the gift, curious despite himself, "but thanks, man."
As he's unwrapping the paper Sam decides to tell Castiel, "Dean's been saying for weeks, all he wanted for Christmas was for you guys to turn up today."
The dick. Dean ignores Sam's shit-eating grin and Castiel's pleased smile. It's worse when he says "It's our pleasure."
They stand awkwardly between the hallway and the living room, and Dean totally blames Sam for it. He concentrates on his package and even the wrapping is worth attention. Intricately patterned paper coiled skilfully around the curves of the bottle. The paper itself is thin, but weirdly strong and soft as cotton.
"What is this stuff?" Dean asks.
"Liwet made it, from the pulp of the Eyre tree. In ancient times angels used this paper for books, it lasts for thousands of years."
"Wow," another thing that Dean's never heard of before, "Lee did a great job."
"He did," Castiel agrees.
The bottle too is a work of art, green glass that reflects as blue along the twists that encircle its surface. The contents are thicker than wine, more viscous.
"It's oil," Castiel explains at Dean's questioning look, "It can be used for cooking or salads, I am told."
Sam butts in gleefully, "Or massages, maybe?"
Dean glares at his very obviously demonic brother. Jesus. The way Cas just nods in agreement makes it all so much worse.
Valiantly, Dean tries to steer the conversation away from Sam's disturbing brand of humor.
"Where's it from?" Dean asks. The workmanship is exquisite, angelic Dean would bet.
"From Heaven," Castiel confirms. "My guardian makes it. He likes human food very much."
"That's- That's awesome, man," Dean tells him. And it really is. This stuff would probably cost a fortune if you could buy it in a shop, and Dean's fairly certain you can't from the way Sam is eying up the bottle enviously. Dean's going to have to lock it away whenever his little brother comes to visit to keep his celestial salad dressing safe from Sam's sticky fingers. "I haven't made the salad, yet, so we can try it out."
Cas looks pleased and nods, doing that almost-smiling thing he does that Dean loves every time he sees it.
"So," Dean admits. "I kind of have something for you and Lee too."
"You do?" Sam looks betrayed, like Dean has kept some hideous secret from him or something.
"Don't you have some fake girlfriend to meet?" Dean retorts.
"She's not fake," Sam, predictably, pouts. "I don't need to be there until lunch."
"Then go make yourself useful and fix some of that fancy-ass coffee for Cas."
Sam snorts. "You like it," but he does as he's told and wanders off into the kitchen.
"You didn't need to get us anything," Castiel says. He follows Dean into the front room and they pass the kids who are making a mess on the floor, Lego blocks and men and unlikely heavenly wheels spread all across the rug. John is showing Lee how to make a car, and Lee looks mostly confused.
"But I wanted to," Dean smiles back at Cas. He shrugs, picking out two packages from under the tree, holding out the larger one.
Castiel takes the gift reverently. "Thank you, Dean," he says, looking at the ugly wrapping paper like it's gold or something. Dean finds himself feeling suddenly embarrassed.
"It's not much," he says. It's so wrong, he thinks, how much he feels like he's 10 years old again and giving Emma Monroe the candy out of his own lunch.
"I have never received a gift before," Castiel tells him. He turns the package over in his hands with curious fascination.
That surprises Dean.
"Never?"
"We have no possessions, so angels rarely give physical gifts."
For several minutes Dean watches Castiel examine his gift, but makes no move to open it, and it occurs to Dean then that maybe Castiel doesn't know that that's what he's supposed to do and is currently wondering what the hell weird thing Dean's given him.
He can't help himself from grinning. "You need to unwrap it," he tells Cas.
Cas looks up blankly, and it makes Dean's grin widen even more. "Rip off the paper and find out what's inside."
"Ah," Castiel says. "That makes more sense."
"Yeah, I bet," Dean laughs, and Cas shoots him an amused look. The angel is relaxed, Dean realizes, his shoulders lose and a content, peaceful expression on his face as he carefully peels back the paper. Dean shifts nervously from foot to foot.
Inside is a thick, knitted blue scarf and Castiel runs his hands over the soft wool. He's smiling, pleased, his expression open and honest.
Maybe it would've been a lame present, for a human, but Dean had seen Castiel's interest in the scarves of the human children.
With the heating on and the fire burning the room is almost too warm, but still Castiel wraps the scarf around his neck.
"I like it very much," he says, making no move to take the scarf off.
"Dude," Dean smiles, "You don't have to wear it now."
Cas plays with the edge of the scarf, frowning. "Is it impolite to wear these indoors?" he asks. He seems genuinely saddened by this, so Dean assures him, "No. Not rude. Just. For most people it'd be too warm. But if you wanna wear it, go right ahead."
He nods, winds the long wool once more around his neck.
Dean has a scarf for Lee too, one that matches Castiel's because they seem like the kind of people to wear matching things. Lee loves it, putting it on in exactly the same way as Castiel, and he plays on the floor with John like that. It's crazy, Dean thinks. He has two angel in his house wearing scarves like they're the most awesome thing in the world. From the way Sam smirks in the corner with his coffee and his cell phone, Dean suspects he's taking photos and texting them to his imaginary girlfriend.
As morning turns to afternoon, and Sam's stomach takes over from his amusement and endless need to laugh at Dean, they say their goodbyes.
"Don't drive like a dick," Dean tells him sternly.
"Don't drool too much over your angel crush," Sam teases back.
It's not a crush. It's Sam projecting.
With Sam gone away to places unknown and meeting the parents and other weird normal things Dean's not convinced he'd be able to deal with, he gets to work finishing cooking dinner. Still in his scarf, he puts Castiel to work cutting up salad. They talk about stupid things like why humans put trees in their homes at Christmas, and how scarves are made- and if Cas takes up knitting Dean knows he's going to regret giving him the scarf for the rest of his days- and in turn Castiel tells him that angels rarely celebrate anything, but when they do the cupids always manage to break things. He admits he doesn't like parties, because they're loud and people- human or angel- never make any sense.
"Never much of a party guy myself," Dean shrugs. He's made a corn pudding from scratch because he's too scared to put meat on a table half-occupied by vegetarian angels. There's mashed potato too, and some random vegetable dishes Sam found for him, and he hopes to hell it tastes at least vaguely edible.
"It smells wonderful," Castiel tells him, sitting at the kitchen table, examining Dean's handiwork and it hits Dean right then how domestic all this is. Not because he's cooked dinner or is wearing a really ugly apron or is fretting over the number of pots and pans he's getting dirty- because he's a dad and domestic comes with the territory- but because being here in the kitchen with Castiel comes with the relaxed atmosphere Dean's only ever felt with family before.
When they sit down to eat, Castiel insists on thanking Dean again. "You went to so much trouble for us," he says, and Jesus Christ but Dean thinks John has been taking lessons from Sam because the kid says, "Dad wanted everything to be perfect for you guys." It isn't a lie, but Dean would really like everyone to shut up about it.
Cas even politely takes off his scarf to eat.
The food goes down well and Dean is relieved. It's also kind of amazing, he observes, how much angels can eat when they want to. He swears Castiel goes for fourths when no one is looking.
Dean leaves the washing up, ignores the mess he's made of his kitchen. He'll deal with it tomorrow when he doesn't have visitors and they sit in the front room with the lights on the tree and the glow of the open fire making Dean feel like he's stepped into some cliche Christmas special on TV or something.
The kids content themselves playing with the Lego, and with reading the insect book John picked out for Lee and presented to him shyly after dinner. Dean's just glad John didn't add any surprise insects to the gift. They talk, and Dean opens a bottle of wine which he pretty much never drinks and never has, but it seemed like the occasion. It's difficult to tell if Cas likes it any more or less than the beers he's drunk a few times with Dean in the past. They talk some more, listen to John and Lee discussing how Heaven isn't like a Lego set at all, eat pie Dean has made- and it's frigging amazing if he does say so himself- and before he knows it, it's getting late. Which sucks, because he'd kind of like the day to never end. John is drooping though, and even Lee is rubbing at his eyes tiredly.
Outside, snow is still falling, but inside Castiel's eyes are bright, lit orange and red by the fire, kind of pretty when he thinks about it. And, Dean decides, he is maybe a little drunk. He really has turned into a cheap date in his old age.
It's then, just when Dean is thinking of putting John to bed, asking if Castiel and Lee might want to stay the night- and no, not like that- when the lights suddenly cut out around them. There's a weird silence in the house, the sounds of the heating and the refrigerator and the million other electrical appliances in the house suddenly quiet. It would be creepy if it wasn't for the crackle of the fire, it's warm light still filling the room, and Castiel's calm interest.
"Is this normal?" he asks.
"All the electricity cutting out? No." He pulls back the curtain, looking out onto the street but there's only darkness. No light in any of the other homes on the block and no street lamps lighting the sidewalk.
"It's gotta be the snow, breaking the power lines," Dean guesses.
When he turns back to the room, closing the curtains tightly, he sees that John has inched his way closer to Lee.
"What's wrong?" Lee asks.
John looks half-ashamed and half-scared. "I don't like the dark," he tells him.
He doesn't think he's even got any candles anywhere. There are flashlights out in the garage, but there's no way he's going out into a snowstorm for them.
Lee takes John's hand. "It's okay. Angels can see in the dark."
Shit, Dean thinks. John is going to freak out if Lee and Castiel leave now, but he can't ask them to stay. They've got the fire and enough fuel for the night, and there are blankets, but the house is going to get cold fast with no heating and sub-zero temperatures outside.
But Castiel moves to sit in front of the two children, offering them comfort with his arms open. They crawl into his lap. "It's true," Cas tells John. "We can see, and there is nothing to fear in this house."
Dean joins them. "I don't know how long it'll be until the electricity comes back, but it's not going to be warm in here for long." John has curled himself up against Cas's side, clinging to that damned coat of his like it alone can protect him. Dean sighs, because can tell John isn't going to want to let go. "I was going to ask you guys to stay, but-"
"We will stay," Castiel interrupts. He looks thoughtful for a moment, looking at Dean as though he's studying him. At Castiel's side, John seems determined to bury himself in Castiel's jacket. It's kind of amazing, because John has only ever trusted him and Sam and Bobby before. He's always been wary of other adults. It's easy to trust Cas though, with his earnest expressions and his quiet determination.
"It won't exactly be comfortable," Dean argues. He has to make sure Cas knows exactly what he's letting himself in for.
Angels never talk about it, but Dean has seen the way their kids get cold, especially their sensitive wings, and Dean hasn't missed the way Castiel is hugging his son close.
"It will be fine," Castiel disagrees. "Build up the fire. I will bring down the blankets, as I can see where I am going."
It's not like Dean actually wants him to leave, so he lets it go, accepts that Castiel- angel warrior of the Lord or whatever- knows what he's doing. "Just grab everything," Dean instructs. "Pillows, comforters. Doesn't matter."
"I will return in a moment," Castiel says to John and Lee, stroking their hair gently. "You should tidy away the toys, so that we can sleep in front of the fire where we will be warm."
They nod and obey without question. It keeps them busy while Dean adds logs to the fire and replaces the guard. In the dim light of the kitchen he puts away what leftovers he can before shutting all the doors to the front room, keeping the heat in. By the time he's done, Castiel is back with armfuls of bedding which he arranges carefully on the floor.
"I believe humans sleep in different clothes," Castiel says, and holds out what looks like the thickest pajamas they own. He's brought sweaters and socks too, and Dean suspects angel mojo because no way he could have carried all that stuff. "I hope you won't mind if I borrow some for Liwet," he adds.
"No, man, of course not."
Cas even asks John if Lee can use his stuff. John sounds more excited about it than anything, announcing, "It's like a sleepover!" His fear of the dark apparently forgotten at the prospect. As they change John explains the concept of sleepovers, and all the awesome things you do, like watching movies and staying up really late and eating candy until you feel sick.
This time Dean isn't surprised at the confusion on Lee and Castiel's faces, because sometimes human stuff really doesn't make any sense.
"You should change too," Dean encourages, offering Cas whatever he wants from his wardrobe.
"The truth is," Castiel admits. "I have never worn any human clothes but these."
"It's about time you did, then," Dean decides. And after some gentle persuasion and arguing that it'd be really uncomfortable for the rest of them if Cas slept in normal clothes, Dean manages to get Cas into a pair of his jogging pants and a long-sleeved shirt and it really is weird to see Castiel wearing something other than his suit and trench coat. Both Lee and John look kind of freaked out by it.
The temperature in the room has already dropped considerably though so Dean encourages the kids to wrap themselves in the blankets and comforters, to make themselves comfortable. They arrange themselves close together, sharing the bedding.
It doesn't look like the electricity is going to come back on anytime soon. Dean doubts anyone can even get out to make any repairs the way the wind has picked up, rattling the window frames. He wouldn't be surprised if they were snowed in come morning. He sends a text to Sam to see if he's okay, gets one back almost instantly checking on him and John.
We've got angels keeping us warm, Dean replies, only after he's sent it realizing that Sam is going to take that completely the wrong way. He turns his cell phone to silent and ignores the barrage of predictable gleeful comments Sam sends.
"Sleep closest to the fire," Castiel suggests, and Dean agrees that one of them should for safety.
"You don't want to?" Dean offers.
"I mean to manifest my wings for extra warmth," Castiel says, matter of factly, like it's nothing. The idea of it is so sudden, so incredible, that at that moment Dean feels as though he can hear his pulse beating loudly through his ears. "I don't want them too close to the fire," Cas adds. Which makes sense. Feathers and fire don't mix, he guesses. Jesus. Feathers.
Dean can't be hiding his surprise very well because Castiel smiles at him. "I trust you," he says, and all Dean can do is nod dumbly.
They settle on the floor with the kids between them, both of them already mostly asleep, Dean insisting that Cas at least take a couple of blankets when he makes no move to claim any.
"Are you sure this is okay?" Dean needs to be sure, because he may not know all that much about angels, but he knows the wing thing is a big deal for them, for adults even more than for their children, and Dean is getting nervous. That he'll do something wrong. That he'll offend Castiel, and then he'd never get to see him again. and that would suck.
"I'm sure," Castiel assures him. "They are my wings," he points out.
Then there is a charge to the air, like warmth and the spark of magic, and suddenly Dean can see huge, dark wings arching over Castiel's shoulders. In the firelight they look as though they're made of metal, burnished in red copper, but as they move closer, covering the kids and coming to rest over Dean too, he can see that they're pitch black. They're like nothing Dean's ever seen and it's almost impossible to stop himself from reaching out and touching them. Just one feather. They look soft as down or velvet maybe, and he want to know how they feel. There's also one hell of a lot of strength in them because the wing covering Dean pushes him down, a gentle but unwielding pressure across his chest.
"Sleep, Dean," Castiel orders. He sounds almost embarrassed, and okay, so maybe Dean was kind of staring. Not that that's ever bothered the angel before, but he guesses with wings it's different.
Careful so as not to touch any part of the wing covering him, Dean pulls the blankets up around his shoulders, puffs his pillow. "Fine. Okay," he concedes, but he doesn't close his eyes.
Next to him John is asleep, curled in close to Lee. Over him lays an angel wing, and Dean can feel the way it moves as Castiel breathes, can tell it's a living thing. It really is incredibly warm, giving out more heat than the fire at Dean's back. Across from him, Dean can see Cas's eyes are open and watching him.
"You don't sleep," Dean remembers.
"We rest," Castiel says quietly into the darkness. He's an angel wearing Dean's clothes, and he hasn't taken off the scarf Dean gave him.
Almost a whisper, Dean says, "Thanks. For all this. For today."
There's a light shove at his shoulder by Cas's wing that Dean takes to be a friendly nudge, and Cas tells him, "It was my pleasure."
Somehow Dean manages to fall asleep like that, staring into Cas's eyes, laying on the floor, and he dreams of feathers brushing against his face softer and more silken than Dean could ever have imagined.
THE END
4,995 words
Dean/Castiel AU. Dean runs a day care center for human and angel kids, the first of its kind. Castiel is a parent.
This is set a few months after the latest part, chapter 9, after Dean and Cas has known each other just that little longer.
Merry Christmas and a great New Year to all of you, and I hope you enjoy!
An Unconventional Kind of Place : Christmas Special
In the weeks running up to Christmas, between shoveling his car out of feet of snow every morning, trying not to buy John every single toy and game Dean thinks he might like and arranging the day care's end of year party, it's something Dean thinks about a lot.
From John, who is slowly becoming an encyclopedia on angel stuff, he learns that angels only celebrate the holidays insofar as humanity does. Their representatives attend the celebrations of all the human religions they are invited to, and those involved in human affairs return to heaven where everyone is on vacation.
"Liwet says that angel-time works different," John says and he looks like he understands that about as much as Dean.
Uriel tells him, cryptically, "The birth of the son is remembered every day," then adds distastefully," angels have no need for the commercialism of your festivals."
But whatever, it all suggests to Dean that Cas and Liwet will be free on Christmas day, and it gives him ideas.
Usually they'd spend the day with Bobby and Sam, but this year Bobby's somehow ended up stranded in a remote hunting lodge with Rufus.
"We have supplies," Bobby had shouted down the crackling, hissing phone line. "We'll be fine. Hopefully it'll clear up enough to be back for New Year." Dean could've sworn he heard the clinking of bottles in the background.
And Sam has gone and gotten himself invited to dinner at the parents of his new, secret girlfriend.
"I'll tell them I can't make it," Sam had decided when he'd told Dean about it, except, well, his brother looked torn and that's when Dean had had his idea.
It had taken some doing, but Dean had finally convinced Sam he and John would be fine on their own. That it'd be awesome to have a quiet holiday together.
"Anyone'd think you were trying to get rid of me," Sam had scoffed.
"Never," Dean had replied truthfully before extracting a promise that Sam would be spending the New Year with them and not at some fancy lawyer champagne gig.
"You gonna invite Castiel for New Year?" Sam had asked, and Dean had replied, "Maybe," because Sam was a nosy asshole.
The last day of term is mayhem. For the first time since the day care opened all the human and angel parents manage to attend the kids' show and after party despite the bad weather.
It's been years since Dean has seen this much snow and it's a nightmare clearing the paths every day, twice a day, and making sure the heating is working properly. Even the angel kids arrive bundled up in coats and scarves even if their parents don't.
He asks Castiel about this one afternoon, eying his usual thin trench coat and seeming imperviousness to the chill in the air.
"The children have not yet learned to thermoregulate their bodies," he tells him, and Dean guesses that makes sense.
At the party Dean dresses as Santa, because Uriel refused, and hands out chocolate and sweets from a sack. The angel kids and their parents mostly look confused, but they all like the chocolate so it works out.
"Kit Kat?" Dean offers Castiel and enjoys the way the angel takes in his red suit and fake stomach with amusement.
"This is a new look for you," Cas says, and takes the candy.
"I've always thought red was my color," Dean grins, and is then whisked away by an over-excited Camael. Dean knew giving that kid sugar was a bad idea.
He doesn't get to talk to Cas again until the end of the day. He's exhausted and there's still a shitload of clearing up to do before he can go home but it's been an awesome day and Dean is happy to wish all the kids and their parents a great holiday.
Lee and Castiel are, as usual, the last to leave.
"Thank you for the party, Mr. Dean," Lee says, hugging Dean's legs. The kid has a bag of candy in his hand and is wearing a Santa hat and someone has hung an ornament from the tips of his left wing.
"Dude," Dean laughs. "I like the decoration."
"He insisted," Castiel says. He's standing behind Lee, shaking his head at the shiny ornament.
"I believe Liwet ate too much cake."
Dean sympathizes. He can see John running tirelessly from one side of the classroom to the other ferrying empty cups and paper plates and Dean is not looking forward to getting him to bed tonight.
"Sorry Cas," Dean commiserates. "It's kinds of tradition. Get the kids hyped up on unhealthy food. Regret it later."
Cas huffs a laugh. "We had a very good time, in any case," he says and Lee nods emphatically in agreement.
"Hey, so, are you guys busy on Christmas day?" Me and John are gonna be making dinner, maybe watching some TV. Nothing exciting, but we'd like to see you."
Cas looks surprised. "Is Christmas not a day you spend with family?" he asks, confused.
"Yeah, and friends. Bobby and Sam are away this year so me and John thought we'd see if you guys wanted to try out a human Christmas?"
It's not so hard to ask Cas things like this anymore, Dean realizes. It probably makes it easier that he never says no.
When Dean had suggested this idea to John he'd been excited as hell so Dean hopes they can make it this time too.
Lee turns to Castiel and Dean can see he's got his most pleading expression on. "Can we go?" he asks solemnly.
There is no way Castiel is going to be able to deny that, and Dean wonders at how human and angel kids are as sneaky as each other.
Unsurprisingly, Castiel caves. "If we are welcome, of course," and that settles it.
They sit beside a real tree, the first Dean's ever bought, taking up half their front room but Dean can't regret buying it because it smells incredible and John loves it. Everyday when he comes down for breakfast he greets it with a "Hello, tree." He's so damned proud of the thing after all the hours he and Dean spent decorating it. Dean even got the log fire going because it's freezing outside, snow falling steadily. He has plans to roast things over it later, like marshmallows or other disgustingly sweet things.
Dean's surprised Sam's crappy car even started in this weather. But here he is, bright and early, because he knows John's awake pretty much at the crack of dawn on Christmas morning. He's smiling like a maniac and his arms are filled with expensive looking packages. Sometimes Dean kind of doesn't like how much Sam gives to them. He's too used to supporting his little brother and too proud for handouts, but it's for John so he can't complain. Sam spoils John something terrible sometimes.
He's only just managed to get John dressed and eating his breakfast and at the first knock on the door John knows who it is. Unsurprisingly, Sam has bought John books, but there's also video games, clothes, a new sports bag, and about a billion Lego sets. There's no mistaking that they're all Heaven Lego sets. John loves them.
"Funny," Dean tells Sam as they both watch John building up his first cloud from white blocks.
"I thought it was appropriate," Sam grins smugly.
They're drinking hot mugs of the expensive coffee Sam bought him and Dean's starting to wish he'd spat in Sam's.
"You hanging out till they arrive?" Dean asks. Not that there can be any doubt, what with Sam's weird angel expression.
Sam nods, unrepentant, and joins John on the floor to help him stick plastic wings onto the backs of Lego men.
"Yeah," Dean snorts, "that's what I thought."
"I like this one," John declares, holding up a Lego man. "He's got wings like Lee."
Smiling like an idiot and trying to hide it Dean retreats into the kitchen before Sam sees. He starts fussing with the preparation for dinner. He checks that he has everything five times over, rereads the recipe three times, and checks the messages on his cell every ten minutes or so, paranoid that Castiel is going to cancel on him at the last minute. But just before eleven the doorbell rings, and all three of them hurry to the door. If anyone had seen the way they all tripped over one another in the narrow hallway Dean would have died of shame.
As soon as the door is open John throws himself at Lee, hugging him and wishing him Merry Christmas and telling him he has a present for him inside and that their tree is awesome. Both Lee and Castiel look caught off guard by John's enthusiasm.
"Hi," Dean greets. He'd prefer they didn't scare the crap out of the angels before they'd even gotten through the door.
Castiel says, "Hello, Dean," and then they're staring at each other again, and Dean doesn't know why, but it's cool. He'd keep right on staring except it's frigging cold on the doorstep.
"Come on in," Dean offers, moving aside and shoving Sam out of the way.
Castiel brushes the snow off of Lee's wings, and then the kids are running inside, disappearing into the front room, John pulling Lee by the hand.
"Dean says you guys don't celebrate Christmas," Sam says, as they follow more slowly after them. Castiel is carrying a bottle shaped package in his hands. Dean knows he told him multiple times he didn't have to bring anything.
"Not on this day," Castiel replies.
In the front room John is pulling Lee down to sit beside him on the floor. Castiel holds out the bottle to Dean.
"I knew you said it was unnecessary, but I thought it polite.'
"I really did mean you guys only needed to bring yourselves," but Dean takes the gift, curious despite himself, "but thanks, man."
As he's unwrapping the paper Sam decides to tell Castiel, "Dean's been saying for weeks, all he wanted for Christmas was for you guys to turn up today."
The dick. Dean ignores Sam's shit-eating grin and Castiel's pleased smile. It's worse when he says "It's our pleasure."
They stand awkwardly between the hallway and the living room, and Dean totally blames Sam for it. He concentrates on his package and even the wrapping is worth attention. Intricately patterned paper coiled skilfully around the curves of the bottle. The paper itself is thin, but weirdly strong and soft as cotton.
"What is this stuff?" Dean asks.
"Liwet made it, from the pulp of the Eyre tree. In ancient times angels used this paper for books, it lasts for thousands of years."
"Wow," another thing that Dean's never heard of before, "Lee did a great job."
"He did," Castiel agrees.
The bottle too is a work of art, green glass that reflects as blue along the twists that encircle its surface. The contents are thicker than wine, more viscous.
"It's oil," Castiel explains at Dean's questioning look, "It can be used for cooking or salads, I am told."
Sam butts in gleefully, "Or massages, maybe?"
Dean glares at his very obviously demonic brother. Jesus. The way Cas just nods in agreement makes it all so much worse.
Valiantly, Dean tries to steer the conversation away from Sam's disturbing brand of humor.
"Where's it from?" Dean asks. The workmanship is exquisite, angelic Dean would bet.
"From Heaven," Castiel confirms. "My guardian makes it. He likes human food very much."
"That's- That's awesome, man," Dean tells him. And it really is. This stuff would probably cost a fortune if you could buy it in a shop, and Dean's fairly certain you can't from the way Sam is eying up the bottle enviously. Dean's going to have to lock it away whenever his little brother comes to visit to keep his celestial salad dressing safe from Sam's sticky fingers. "I haven't made the salad, yet, so we can try it out."
Cas looks pleased and nods, doing that almost-smiling thing he does that Dean loves every time he sees it.
"So," Dean admits. "I kind of have something for you and Lee too."
"You do?" Sam looks betrayed, like Dean has kept some hideous secret from him or something.
"Don't you have some fake girlfriend to meet?" Dean retorts.
"She's not fake," Sam, predictably, pouts. "I don't need to be there until lunch."
"Then go make yourself useful and fix some of that fancy-ass coffee for Cas."
Sam snorts. "You like it," but he does as he's told and wanders off into the kitchen.
"You didn't need to get us anything," Castiel says. He follows Dean into the front room and they pass the kids who are making a mess on the floor, Lego blocks and men and unlikely heavenly wheels spread all across the rug. John is showing Lee how to make a car, and Lee looks mostly confused.
"But I wanted to," Dean smiles back at Cas. He shrugs, picking out two packages from under the tree, holding out the larger one.
Castiel takes the gift reverently. "Thank you, Dean," he says, looking at the ugly wrapping paper like it's gold or something. Dean finds himself feeling suddenly embarrassed.
"It's not much," he says. It's so wrong, he thinks, how much he feels like he's 10 years old again and giving Emma Monroe the candy out of his own lunch.
"I have never received a gift before," Castiel tells him. He turns the package over in his hands with curious fascination.
That surprises Dean.
"Never?"
"We have no possessions, so angels rarely give physical gifts."
For several minutes Dean watches Castiel examine his gift, but makes no move to open it, and it occurs to Dean then that maybe Castiel doesn't know that that's what he's supposed to do and is currently wondering what the hell weird thing Dean's given him.
He can't help himself from grinning. "You need to unwrap it," he tells Cas.
Cas looks up blankly, and it makes Dean's grin widen even more. "Rip off the paper and find out what's inside."
"Ah," Castiel says. "That makes more sense."
"Yeah, I bet," Dean laughs, and Cas shoots him an amused look. The angel is relaxed, Dean realizes, his shoulders lose and a content, peaceful expression on his face as he carefully peels back the paper. Dean shifts nervously from foot to foot.
Inside is a thick, knitted blue scarf and Castiel runs his hands over the soft wool. He's smiling, pleased, his expression open and honest.
Maybe it would've been a lame present, for a human, but Dean had seen Castiel's interest in the scarves of the human children.
With the heating on and the fire burning the room is almost too warm, but still Castiel wraps the scarf around his neck.
"I like it very much," he says, making no move to take the scarf off.
"Dude," Dean smiles, "You don't have to wear it now."
Cas plays with the edge of the scarf, frowning. "Is it impolite to wear these indoors?" he asks. He seems genuinely saddened by this, so Dean assures him, "No. Not rude. Just. For most people it'd be too warm. But if you wanna wear it, go right ahead."
He nods, winds the long wool once more around his neck.
Dean has a scarf for Lee too, one that matches Castiel's because they seem like the kind of people to wear matching things. Lee loves it, putting it on in exactly the same way as Castiel, and he plays on the floor with John like that. It's crazy, Dean thinks. He has two angel in his house wearing scarves like they're the most awesome thing in the world. From the way Sam smirks in the corner with his coffee and his cell phone, Dean suspects he's taking photos and texting them to his imaginary girlfriend.
As morning turns to afternoon, and Sam's stomach takes over from his amusement and endless need to laugh at Dean, they say their goodbyes.
"Don't drive like a dick," Dean tells him sternly.
"Don't drool too much over your angel crush," Sam teases back.
It's not a crush. It's Sam projecting.
With Sam gone away to places unknown and meeting the parents and other weird normal things Dean's not convinced he'd be able to deal with, he gets to work finishing cooking dinner. Still in his scarf, he puts Castiel to work cutting up salad. They talk about stupid things like why humans put trees in their homes at Christmas, and how scarves are made- and if Cas takes up knitting Dean knows he's going to regret giving him the scarf for the rest of his days- and in turn Castiel tells him that angels rarely celebrate anything, but when they do the cupids always manage to break things. He admits he doesn't like parties, because they're loud and people- human or angel- never make any sense.
"Never much of a party guy myself," Dean shrugs. He's made a corn pudding from scratch because he's too scared to put meat on a table half-occupied by vegetarian angels. There's mashed potato too, and some random vegetable dishes Sam found for him, and he hopes to hell it tastes at least vaguely edible.
"It smells wonderful," Castiel tells him, sitting at the kitchen table, examining Dean's handiwork and it hits Dean right then how domestic all this is. Not because he's cooked dinner or is wearing a really ugly apron or is fretting over the number of pots and pans he's getting dirty- because he's a dad and domestic comes with the territory- but because being here in the kitchen with Castiel comes with the relaxed atmosphere Dean's only ever felt with family before.
When they sit down to eat, Castiel insists on thanking Dean again. "You went to so much trouble for us," he says, and Jesus Christ but Dean thinks John has been taking lessons from Sam because the kid says, "Dad wanted everything to be perfect for you guys." It isn't a lie, but Dean would really like everyone to shut up about it.
Cas even politely takes off his scarf to eat.
The food goes down well and Dean is relieved. It's also kind of amazing, he observes, how much angels can eat when they want to. He swears Castiel goes for fourths when no one is looking.
Dean leaves the washing up, ignores the mess he's made of his kitchen. He'll deal with it tomorrow when he doesn't have visitors and they sit in the front room with the lights on the tree and the glow of the open fire making Dean feel like he's stepped into some cliche Christmas special on TV or something.
The kids content themselves playing with the Lego, and with reading the insect book John picked out for Lee and presented to him shyly after dinner. Dean's just glad John didn't add any surprise insects to the gift. They talk, and Dean opens a bottle of wine which he pretty much never drinks and never has, but it seemed like the occasion. It's difficult to tell if Cas likes it any more or less than the beers he's drunk a few times with Dean in the past. They talk some more, listen to John and Lee discussing how Heaven isn't like a Lego set at all, eat pie Dean has made- and it's frigging amazing if he does say so himself- and before he knows it, it's getting late. Which sucks, because he'd kind of like the day to never end. John is drooping though, and even Lee is rubbing at his eyes tiredly.
Outside, snow is still falling, but inside Castiel's eyes are bright, lit orange and red by the fire, kind of pretty when he thinks about it. And, Dean decides, he is maybe a little drunk. He really has turned into a cheap date in his old age.
It's then, just when Dean is thinking of putting John to bed, asking if Castiel and Lee might want to stay the night- and no, not like that- when the lights suddenly cut out around them. There's a weird silence in the house, the sounds of the heating and the refrigerator and the million other electrical appliances in the house suddenly quiet. It would be creepy if it wasn't for the crackle of the fire, it's warm light still filling the room, and Castiel's calm interest.
"Is this normal?" he asks.
"All the electricity cutting out? No." He pulls back the curtain, looking out onto the street but there's only darkness. No light in any of the other homes on the block and no street lamps lighting the sidewalk.
"It's gotta be the snow, breaking the power lines," Dean guesses.
When he turns back to the room, closing the curtains tightly, he sees that John has inched his way closer to Lee.
"What's wrong?" Lee asks.
John looks half-ashamed and half-scared. "I don't like the dark," he tells him.
He doesn't think he's even got any candles anywhere. There are flashlights out in the garage, but there's no way he's going out into a snowstorm for them.
Lee takes John's hand. "It's okay. Angels can see in the dark."
Shit, Dean thinks. John is going to freak out if Lee and Castiel leave now, but he can't ask them to stay. They've got the fire and enough fuel for the night, and there are blankets, but the house is going to get cold fast with no heating and sub-zero temperatures outside.
But Castiel moves to sit in front of the two children, offering them comfort with his arms open. They crawl into his lap. "It's true," Cas tells John. "We can see, and there is nothing to fear in this house."
Dean joins them. "I don't know how long it'll be until the electricity comes back, but it's not going to be warm in here for long." John has curled himself up against Cas's side, clinging to that damned coat of his like it alone can protect him. Dean sighs, because can tell John isn't going to want to let go. "I was going to ask you guys to stay, but-"
"We will stay," Castiel interrupts. He looks thoughtful for a moment, looking at Dean as though he's studying him. At Castiel's side, John seems determined to bury himself in Castiel's jacket. It's kind of amazing, because John has only ever trusted him and Sam and Bobby before. He's always been wary of other adults. It's easy to trust Cas though, with his earnest expressions and his quiet determination.
"It won't exactly be comfortable," Dean argues. He has to make sure Cas knows exactly what he's letting himself in for.
Angels never talk about it, but Dean has seen the way their kids get cold, especially their sensitive wings, and Dean hasn't missed the way Castiel is hugging his son close.
"It will be fine," Castiel disagrees. "Build up the fire. I will bring down the blankets, as I can see where I am going."
It's not like Dean actually wants him to leave, so he lets it go, accepts that Castiel- angel warrior of the Lord or whatever- knows what he's doing. "Just grab everything," Dean instructs. "Pillows, comforters. Doesn't matter."
"I will return in a moment," Castiel says to John and Lee, stroking their hair gently. "You should tidy away the toys, so that we can sleep in front of the fire where we will be warm."
They nod and obey without question. It keeps them busy while Dean adds logs to the fire and replaces the guard. In the dim light of the kitchen he puts away what leftovers he can before shutting all the doors to the front room, keeping the heat in. By the time he's done, Castiel is back with armfuls of bedding which he arranges carefully on the floor.
"I believe humans sleep in different clothes," Castiel says, and holds out what looks like the thickest pajamas they own. He's brought sweaters and socks too, and Dean suspects angel mojo because no way he could have carried all that stuff. "I hope you won't mind if I borrow some for Liwet," he adds.
"No, man, of course not."
Cas even asks John if Lee can use his stuff. John sounds more excited about it than anything, announcing, "It's like a sleepover!" His fear of the dark apparently forgotten at the prospect. As they change John explains the concept of sleepovers, and all the awesome things you do, like watching movies and staying up really late and eating candy until you feel sick.
This time Dean isn't surprised at the confusion on Lee and Castiel's faces, because sometimes human stuff really doesn't make any sense.
"You should change too," Dean encourages, offering Cas whatever he wants from his wardrobe.
"The truth is," Castiel admits. "I have never worn any human clothes but these."
"It's about time you did, then," Dean decides. And after some gentle persuasion and arguing that it'd be really uncomfortable for the rest of them if Cas slept in normal clothes, Dean manages to get Cas into a pair of his jogging pants and a long-sleeved shirt and it really is weird to see Castiel wearing something other than his suit and trench coat. Both Lee and John look kind of freaked out by it.
The temperature in the room has already dropped considerably though so Dean encourages the kids to wrap themselves in the blankets and comforters, to make themselves comfortable. They arrange themselves close together, sharing the bedding.
It doesn't look like the electricity is going to come back on anytime soon. Dean doubts anyone can even get out to make any repairs the way the wind has picked up, rattling the window frames. He wouldn't be surprised if they were snowed in come morning. He sends a text to Sam to see if he's okay, gets one back almost instantly checking on him and John.
We've got angels keeping us warm, Dean replies, only after he's sent it realizing that Sam is going to take that completely the wrong way. He turns his cell phone to silent and ignores the barrage of predictable gleeful comments Sam sends.
"Sleep closest to the fire," Castiel suggests, and Dean agrees that one of them should for safety.
"You don't want to?" Dean offers.
"I mean to manifest my wings for extra warmth," Castiel says, matter of factly, like it's nothing. The idea of it is so sudden, so incredible, that at that moment Dean feels as though he can hear his pulse beating loudly through his ears. "I don't want them too close to the fire," Cas adds. Which makes sense. Feathers and fire don't mix, he guesses. Jesus. Feathers.
Dean can't be hiding his surprise very well because Castiel smiles at him. "I trust you," he says, and all Dean can do is nod dumbly.
They settle on the floor with the kids between them, both of them already mostly asleep, Dean insisting that Cas at least take a couple of blankets when he makes no move to claim any.
"Are you sure this is okay?" Dean needs to be sure, because he may not know all that much about angels, but he knows the wing thing is a big deal for them, for adults even more than for their children, and Dean is getting nervous. That he'll do something wrong. That he'll offend Castiel, and then he'd never get to see him again. and that would suck.
"I'm sure," Castiel assures him. "They are my wings," he points out.
Then there is a charge to the air, like warmth and the spark of magic, and suddenly Dean can see huge, dark wings arching over Castiel's shoulders. In the firelight they look as though they're made of metal, burnished in red copper, but as they move closer, covering the kids and coming to rest over Dean too, he can see that they're pitch black. They're like nothing Dean's ever seen and it's almost impossible to stop himself from reaching out and touching them. Just one feather. They look soft as down or velvet maybe, and he want to know how they feel. There's also one hell of a lot of strength in them because the wing covering Dean pushes him down, a gentle but unwielding pressure across his chest.
"Sleep, Dean," Castiel orders. He sounds almost embarrassed, and okay, so maybe Dean was kind of staring. Not that that's ever bothered the angel before, but he guesses with wings it's different.
Careful so as not to touch any part of the wing covering him, Dean pulls the blankets up around his shoulders, puffs his pillow. "Fine. Okay," he concedes, but he doesn't close his eyes.
Next to him John is asleep, curled in close to Lee. Over him lays an angel wing, and Dean can feel the way it moves as Castiel breathes, can tell it's a living thing. It really is incredibly warm, giving out more heat than the fire at Dean's back. Across from him, Dean can see Cas's eyes are open and watching him.
"You don't sleep," Dean remembers.
"We rest," Castiel says quietly into the darkness. He's an angel wearing Dean's clothes, and he hasn't taken off the scarf Dean gave him.
Almost a whisper, Dean says, "Thanks. For all this. For today."
There's a light shove at his shoulder by Cas's wing that Dean takes to be a friendly nudge, and Cas tells him, "It was my pleasure."
Somehow Dean manages to fall asleep like that, staring into Cas's eyes, laying on the floor, and he dreams of feathers brushing against his face softer and more silken than Dean could ever have imagined.
THE END