Just some fluffy Destiel Domestic to start us out.
Casey looked for Easter eggs with Elle, but only because he wanted to make sure she found them all. It was for moral support, he had reasoned. Dean and Castiel had nodded indulgently and Beckett had rolled her eyes at him. But no one said anything.
They were sitting in the woods by the small pond, a picnic blanket spread out. Dean was reclining on some pillows, Castiel's back pressed to his chest as he sat between Dean's legs. Ian and Jack were dozing on their bellies like perfect little angels in little bunny sleepers from Auntie Ellen, complete with caps that had little bunny ears, fluffy tails in the air. Beckett was sitting primly at one of the corners, making flower crowns for them all.
"This one's yours, Daddy," she said, tossing it to Castiel, who immediately put it on his head. It was a combination of daisies and clovers.
"Thanks, Busy Bee," Castiel murmured. "Don't put them on your brothers, okay? The flowers could cause an allergic reaction on their skin."
"HEY DAD!" Casey shouted.
Dean groaned. "Keep it down, Case. We're werewolves, not moles. You'll wake your brothers."
Casey came running up and threw himself onto the blanket next to Dean, his chest rubbing against Dean's arm, his knobby knees knocking into Dean's thigh like sharp little balls of pain and fury. Dean squelched a curse.
"Daddy, how many eggs did you hide?" he whispered, spitting on the side of Dean's face as he did so, his breath hot against Dean's cheek. The pup had the same respect for personal space as Cas. Beckett put Casey's crown on his head, and Casey saluted her.
"Two dozen," Dean whispered back. "How many has Elle found so far?"
"She found ten and I found five, but I put them in her basket because I'm just helping her."
Dean could feel Castiel's back shake as he laughed silently. At ten years of age, Casey was definitely not interested in hidden eggs for himself. No. He was there for his sister. The sister he barely tolerated half the time.
"Okay, well, I hid twenty four, and you've found fifteen. How many more do you need to find?"
Casey rolled his eyes. "Jeez, Dad, this isn't math class," he groused. "Eight?"
Dean shook his head.
"Look, Daddy!" Elle walked primly over the blanket to Castiel, spreading damp grass and twigs on the pristine quilt. "I got eggs and they have candy in them."
"We haven't found them all, though," Casey pointed out. "There's still…um…nine?"—Dean nodded—"Nine left."
Elle shrugged and sat down on Castiel's thighs, handing him the eggs one at a time. "You find them. I have enough. Look inside, Daddy."
Castiel picked up a bright pink egg from his lap and opened it, finding jelly beans and a peanut butter cup inside. He unwrapped the peanut butter cup and held it over his shoulder for Dean, who ate it out of his fingers, then licked the chocolate off, sucking lightly, forcing Castiel to look back at him with a sour, warning expression. Dean just grinned charmingly in return.
Casey never went looking for the other eggs since no one would go with him, and he was really only doing it for Elle.
"Maybe you should only hide one dozen next year," he groused, picking out the green jellybeans from the eggs they did have, laying on his stomach on the quilt, his flower halo slightly askew. "Then she won't lose interest so quickly." He shot a dark look around the wooded area, as though it was the fault of the trees that his sister didn't want any more candy.
At Halloween, Casey dressed as a pirate and took Elle from house to house down the street while Dean and Castiel looked on from the ends of yards and driveways as they each held a twin. Ian was in a Batman sleeper with the hood pulled up over his head. He seemed really pissed off about that, too and kept trying to push it off. Jack was a Jack-O-Lantern, which was Gabriel's idea so Dean could pretend it was stupid, but it was really the cutest damn thing he'd ever seen.
Casey was adamant that he wasn't trick-or-treating. He was just taking Elle because he knew she might be scared at the houses where the decorations tended towards the gruesome. If someone slipped candy into his bucket, that he just happened to have with him, then he would thank them. But he wasn't asking for it.
"Aw, I've got Captain Hook and Tinkerbelle on my porch!" Mrs. Henderson exclaimed.
"I'm Tinker Elle!" Elle proclaimed, making sure that the Winchester Narcissism survived through the next generation. "And he's not a captain, he's just a pirate."
Castiel and Dean chuckled as Mrs. Henderson continued to exclaim over how cute they were, dropping extra candy into their bags. "Those are for your daddies and your brothers and sister, okay?"
"Yes, ma'am!" both children called before running back towards their fathers.
Casey complained when they started back early, then remembered that he was just there for Elle and decided it was okay. It was good calculation on Castiel's part that got them through the front door just as Elle practically collapsed in exhaustion. The twins had fallen asleep on the walk home and Dean and Castiel held onto their squishy bodies as Elle and Casey dumped their haul out onto the kitchen table and began sorting. Castiel couldn't eat chocolate since he was still breastfeeding the twins, so he made a little pile of caramels, Pay Days, and Abba Zabbas by his elbow as Ian, who had awoken during a squabble over the last cherry Starburst, lazily suckled himself back to sleep.
Beckett came home from her party carrying a goodie bag full of candies and a caramel apple that she sorted into the piles, handing Castiel her non-chocolate offerings. She was dressed as a Renaissance princess, her long black curls artfully braided with flowers that were now wilted. She smelled like dancing and a bonfire on a cold night, apples and caramel corn.
"Did you have fun?" Castiel asked, taking her hand and pulling her down for a kiss.
"I did. Looks like you guys did good with the trick-or-treating. Hey, is Charlie Brown on TV yet?"
They all grabbed a treat and moved it into the living room. Charlie Brown wasn't on yet, but there were other holiday shows to tide them over until the big event.
When Linus learned that The Great Pumpkin did not deem his pumpkin patch sincere enough, Dean and Castiel escorted their litter upstairs and into their rooms and jammies and beds. Instead of crawling up to his bed on the top bunk, Casey opted to join his sister on her bottom bunk. Castiel leaned over and kissed them both, tucking them in.
"Night-night, Daddy," Elle whispered.
"Night-night, sweetheart," Castiel whispered back.
"Thanks for trick-or-treating with me, Casey," Elle said happily.
"Next year, we'll go to even more houses," he said happily, all pretenses gone in the face of a pile of snack-sized Snickers and Milky Ways. "Next year we'll get even more candy."
Casey wrote a letter to Santa.
He didn't believe in Santa per se, but he figured his dads would read it.
And just in case. Just in case…
Plus, Elle wanted to write one, and he figured it was his brotherly duty to help her out. Beckett wrote one too, so what was the big deal. Right?
Their dads decorated the house with stockings at the fireplace, a plaid tablecloth, mistletoe on all the doors (which they used to scandalize their children as often as possible), and then finally dragged the kids to the Christmas tree lot so they could cut down their tree. At home, Beckett made hot cider with cinnamon sticks and Casey and Elle decorated sugar cookies for everyone.
"Daddy's is the one with the gingerbread man with the green pants on," Elle reminded them for the millionth time. "And Other Daddy's is the one with the gingerbread man with the blue pants, but it's not as good, sorry, Daddy."
Castiel kissed her on the top of the head and ate his cookie. "He's delicious, Ellie," he assured his daughter. Neither he nor Dean ever really knew who "Daddy" and "Other Daddy" were until Elle specifically pointed at them, so he hoped taking the sugar cookie with the blue pants was the right choice.
If Dean made a comment about how his batter tasted better, Castiel chose to ignore it while fervently hoping that Beckett hadn't heard. The younger kids would have no clue what he was talking about, but Castiel was pretty certain that Beckett was figuring out what sex was, and he just didn't want her to pick up on Dean's innuendos.
As they ate their cookies and drank their cider, the children wrote their letters to Santa. Beckett's contained a list of things she'd heard her siblings say they wanted, and Elle's was only concerned with herself. Casey's was something else all together.
Dear Santa,
Look, I don't think you're real. In fact, I'm pretty sure my dads are reading this right now. So, okay, but I have to take the chance that you're there.
You probably know that I have two brothers and two sisters. I know my sisters have been a little naughty this year. Elle gave Jack a black eye when she threw a toy at him, and Beckett broke the living room lamp then tried to hide it in the closet but Dad found out about it anyway because it was a stupid place to hide it. Anyway, I know they were bad, but they're still good kids, and the puppies can't do anything yet because they're babies. So we're all good. So please don't not give us gifts just because we did bad stuff this year.
I know I'm not always a good brother, but I'm trying to be better. If it helps, you can not bring my gifts, and only bring gifts for the other kids, if that's okay. See, I'm the big brother even though Beckett's older than me, so it's my job to take care of them. So just don't worry about me. I'm still playing with the toys you brought last year, and I wore all the clothes you got me too.
Beckett wants a new iPad, but she's going to give me her old one if she gets a new one, so you don't need to get me anything, and Elle wants a Pretty Princess Mermaid is Magic doll. The one with the pink and blue hair, not the one with the green and orange hair.
Love,
Casey C. Winchester
Castiel covered his mouth as he read the words, and Dean complained about the dust in the house.
"You had to go and give me a son who is just like you," Castiel murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
"He is pretty awesome," Dean agreed.
Christmas morning was its usual chaos of trying to get everyone out of bed at a normal hour. It was a futile endeavor because of course the pups were up at the crack of dawn, ready to break into the pile of gifts under the tree. "So much for sleeping in," Dean grumbled as he hoisted himself from the bed.
There were delays in the dads getting down the stairs of course. The twins had to be changed and fed and Dean needed his coffee and Castiel shot him dirty looks for being able to have it because Dean wasn't the one who was lactating two pups with incredibly sensitive stomachs. Finally, after what Elle deemed to be hours and hours, Castiel handed out the stockings and Dean took pictures. John called from the main house to announce that breakfast was ready and Chuck and Anna and Inias had just arrived and it was time for them to all get their asses in gear and head on over.
It was a Winchester law that Christmas day was spent almost exclusively in pajamas, so they simply put their snow boots on over their slippers, huddled under robes and blankets, and made their way to the huge house that smelled like cinnamon rolls and pecan pie. Chuck and John didn't know which grandpups to hug first, but Elle and Casey were the most forward, followed closely by Sam and Gabriel's sons, Evan and Chris, who were five and three. They were eager to play with Anna's son and daughter, Noah and Helena, and all of the cousins went to sit at their end of the table without much prompting, discussing the contents of their stockings and their hopes for what lay under the tree.
Anna announced a third pregnancy. Gabriel announced he was done adopting.
"What does adopting mean?" Evan asked Casey.
"It means that instead of you growing in your daddy's belly, your daddy goes to the hospital and picks you out instead."
"Oh."
"It's like, sometimes your daddy brings you a toy and sometimes you go to the store for a toy that you pick out yourself," Elle clarified.
Dean groaned and buried his head in his hand. He had tried explaining adoption to the kids, but apparently his metaphors had not worked so well.
"Mommy said when you adopt, the baby gets delivered to the hospital instead of to her tummy," Helena supplied.
Chris seemed completely uninterested in the conversation, but more than interested in shoving as much cinnamon roll into his mouth as possible.
"Jeez, he's really starting to take after you, Gabe," Dean quipped.
Gabriel looked down at his son fondly. "Yeah, we're real proud of this one. He learned yesterday that he can store M&M's in his nose for later."
"At only three," Sam said with a tight smile. "I can't tell you how wonderful it is to have both a three-year-old and a forty-three-year-old version of Gabriel hanging around."
"What's the difference between the two?" Dean joked, earning him a dirty glare from Gabriel , Castiel and Anna. Dean forgot sometimes that Novaks were the only ones allowed to say disparaging remarks about Novaks.
The adults talked and ate until it became clear that the children were going to stage an uprising if paper didn't start getting torn from packages within the next few minutes, so they made their way into the den where the huge tree was with its ocean of gifts swimming around in front of it.
John tried to contain the discarded paper, but gave up after the third completely full garbage bag.
"How come when people get mated, they think they can give me just one gift instead of two?" Dean groused.
"We only give them one gift," Castiel pointed out.
"Yeah, but I'm Alpha."
This statement was met with general silence because, really, Dean was such a pushover, he rarely ever had to bring out the wolf.
After a huge Christmas dinner that consisted of more pie than even Dean thought he'd ever be able to consume in one sitting, they went back to the cottage and Dean collapsed onto the sofa after he and Castiel put the whelps to sleep. Beckett sat by the fireplace and started arranging her gifts and removing the tags from her new clothes. Castiel pulled Elle into his lap and started to read the latest Skippyjon Jones book aloud and Casey stretched out on top of Dean, nestling his head on his shoulder, just under his chin. Dean turned his head and kissed his boy.
"Dad?"
"Hmm?"
Casey started fidgeting with the buttons on Dean's pajama top. "Um…Dad? I told Santa not to bring me any gifts."
"Oh?" Dean asked neutrally. "Why not?"
"Be-because I haven't been that good."
Castiel looked up from the book, torn between wanting to assure his son that he was a very good boy and wanting to pretend that he wasn't hearing this very personal conversation.
"Why do you say that, Case?"
Castiel went back to reading, keeping one ear on Dean's conversation.
Casey twisted the hem of Dean's shirt in his fist, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. "I just…I know I'm not always as good of a brother as I can be, and I break things and I'm too loud and hyper and you guys are always telling me to calm down…"
He was really working himself into a lather over this.
Dean stroked his fingers soothingly through his hair, petting him softly. "Hey, don't cry, pup. You're a great brother. Who plays with the whelps while I'm working and Daddy's making dinner? Who took Elle trick-or-treating? You're a good brother, Casey, and you deserved all the gifts you got. Santa wouldn't have brought them otherwise."
"Really?"
Dean chuckled. "I think you're about the best brother a person could have, Case."
Casey released his hold on Dean's shirt. "I'll be better next year," Casey assured them. "I will be."
Dean grunted. Castiel finished the book and carried Elle to bed. Since she was still in her pajamas, it was an easy thing to tuck her in. He went back downstairs and smiled at the sight of Dean and Casey, sound asleep, both of them snoring ever so slightly. Beckett was taking a picture of them with her phone. Castiel grabbed the Nikon and snapped a few high def photos, then covered them with the horrid cat blanket Sam had given them all those years ago. He snapped a few more pictures for good measure because he knew blackmail material when he saw it.
Beckett came and nestled under his arm, hugging him around the chest. "He's a good brother. He's a pain in the butt, but he's a good brother."
Castiel smiled. It was true.
"Next year doesn't matter," Castiel said. "This year is all that matters. Now matters. Now is all that matters."
