In which single father's – Dean Winchester, and Castiel Novak – take their kids to the park, and find pleasant company within one another's presence. {idea from: halseybullshit on Twitter!}
Strawberry jam is stuck in his hair, his fingers have been messily painted with tacky kids' nail polish, his feet already ache and he has 'Let It Go' deadpanning through gritted teeth already... That's right, its eleven a.m. in Dean Winchester's world.
Deciding that a trip to the park on a slightly sunny Saturday afternoon is more favourable than staying at home and getting pestered by your overactive three year old daughter, Dean is now yelling at her to wait for him by the tree stump she just almost fell over – she's getting 'a bit too old' to hold his hand now, apparently.
Scrawny tufts of deep brunette hair get in the way of those emerald eyes. "What did Daddy tell you?" Dean stands with one hand on his hip, trying not to pant from exhaustion.
The little girl looks up at him with innocence written across the shade of green, as she tugs at the hem of her denim dress. "Don't talk to strangers, don't eat too much candy, always use a clean tissue –" beginning to reel off pretty much every single one of Dean's house rules, he abruptly stops her.
"What did I tell you before we left the house?" He gives her a look, "smarty pants."
A tiny grin flashes upon her freckle ridden face, "don't run off too far." She finalises, out stretching her freshly pink manicured (thanks to her Daddy) hand, for him to hold.
Moving the bag of important things needed at the park into his left hand, he holds her smaller one in his right. They walk to the park being rather civil, and even chat about the dog that's on the other side of the street. "Can I have a dog?" She skips along, watching her scuffed daisy patterned shoes skim across the concrete.
"No, honey," Dean puts it gently, stopping as they reach the last road they need to cross, before they reach their destination.
Huffing loudly, the girl pouts sadly. "Why?"
"Because Daddy goes to work, and nobody would be there to look after it," the park nears their eyeline.
"But, I can stay home!"
"You have kindergarten," Dean opens the gate to the play area, and grimaces at the high amount of screaming kids.
His daughter tugs away from his hand, but continues their debate. "So?" She folds her arms, practically mastering his own stance.
"So... Nothing. Now, off you go. I'll be right over there," pointing to the only empty bench in the whole place, Dean starts to head over.
Thankfully, his daughter seems to have spotted one of her friends. He sits down on the wooden seat, and smiles as the kids hurry up the climbing frame together. "This seat taken?" A sudden introduction of speech causes Dean to flinch in surprise, then he looks up, and shields his eyes from the sun.
"Nope," the man is kitted out in a wrinkled shirt and navy blue tie – which he's already loosening, even before he takes a seat.
He plonks himself to Dean's right, and places a bag similar to Mr Winchester's own, on the floor in front of his feet. "You gotta bring so much, you know? Juice, tissues, snacks... Band-aids!" The stranger rants, leaning back and catching his breath.
Chuckling quietly, Dean doesn't take his eye off of his little girl, waving when she zooms down the slide. "She yours?" The stranger doesn't get the hint that he's not into conversations, which ensues an almost silent sigh.
"Yeah... How about you?" Looking around for anyone who may resemble the black haired new comer beside him. Dean looks at the guy next to him, deciding to act as engaged as possible... Wow, this guy is actually extremely nice to look at.
The man smiles proudly, before pointing out a slightly taller girl than Dean's – over by the monkey bars. "Took Claire two weeks to learn those, we had to come here practically every damn day."
Noticing that his own child has now queued up to use them, Dean shifts wearily in his seat. "Yeah, my Mary-Rose has never quite gotten to grip."
Both parents watch, as Claire turns around and spots the smaller girl behind her. "That's a sweet name," the guy next to Dean adds politely.
"I'm Cas, by the way," extending a hand for him to shake, Dean thinks 'ah, what the hell?' and returns the kind gesture.
Afterall, his kid certainly seems nice enough – Claire is already showing Mary-Rose exactly how to use the monkey bars. "I'm Dean," he introduces back, quickly turning his eyes towards his child once again.
It seems that little Mary is a little too afraid of the monkey bars, so when Claire jumps back onto the sandy floor, she waves for her new friend to follow her over to the swings instead. Letting their daughters wander further away into the playground, the two Dads get chatting.
After bonding over how ridiculous children can be about certain things – Claire's personal favourite is wanting her hair plaited a certain way before school. And, Mary-Rose's? No matter what Dean has tried, he just cannot get rid of her pacifier. "Wanna know how we got rid of Claire's, last year?" Cas bites into an apple that he's just retrieved from the never-ending bag below him.
Seeing Dean nod eagerly, the man carries on. "We left it out for Batwoman to collect, before she goes on her nightly patrol."
Almost choking on his orange flavoured juice box, Dean frowns. "I mean, I've heard of the binky fairy, but –" his lopsided smile of confusion suddenly begins to fade away, as the distant sound of his own child crying begins to fill the air.
Eyes darting towards the area of the wails, sure enough Mary-Rose is nearby. Cas' daughter is holding her hand, as she limps towards the parents. "This boy pushed her down the slide, when she said she didn't want a push! So, I hit him," Claire grins a gap-toothed grin, but her Dad's face contorts into a frown.
Letting go of Mary-Rose's hand, Claire pouts. Dean lifts the crying child up onto his knee, and rummages around in his bag with the other. Popping a purple pacifier into her mouth, he starts to gently rock her. "Claire, what have we said about hitting?" Cas asks sternly, and Dean pretends to be invisible for a few seconds.
"But, he was a mean boy!" The girl protests firmly, her eyes wandering to where a little boy is now running over to his Mommy – tears streaming down his face too.
"We're going home," grabbing up his things, Cas stands up from the bench.
Gasping loudly, Claire immediatley runs over to her new friend. "No!" Mary-Rose reaches out for her heroine, holding tightly onto her hand.
"The boy called me a stupid girl, and Claire was being my fwend!" Voice muffled by the pacifier, little Mary-Rose tells the two Dad's the truth.
A smirk tugs at the elder girl's mouth,"and, I didn't even say a bad word back," she states proudly, turning to her Dad for some praise.
"No, you just hit him," Dean can't help but snort, and Cas looks at him with disapproval.
Pretending that nothing happened, the Winchester then feels his daughter climb down from his lap. She wraps her arm's around Claire's waist, and squeezes her eyes shut. The plaited blonde finds something from her bag – a tissue, to wipe her new friend's watery eyes. "Right... I'd send you to go say sorry, but quite frankly the kid's a butthole – I've heard about him from your school," Cas begins, looking serious at his child.
"But, no more hitting, okay? Go play nicely," he ruffles her hair – much to her utter dismay – and, then hands her some juice to drink.
"Alright, whilst you two smile and giggle some more?" The extremely witty four (and a half) year old remarks, resulting in two rather blushy men in front of her.
Claire giggles, and then quickly grabs Mary's hand. The pair hurry off together, and the last thing that the parents catch within ear shot, is; "hey, you know one time I had a pacifier... Batwoman took it to give to kids who were less brave than me!"
Dean coughs once, and then rubs at the back of his neck. "That sure is one hell of an offspring you've got there," he comments, looking at the blue eyed not-so-stranger anymore, beside him.
"Hmm, haven't I just?" a proud smile appears upon his face.
"No, I'm serious!" Dean adds, tossing his juice box into the nearby trash can.
Cas smiles wider, looking over at their two daughters drawing a picture in the sand together. "Thank you," he looks into the eyes of green. "Your daughter has the most adorable freckles... And, well, so do you actually,"
A blush creeps upward across Dean's neck, and settles in a rosy shade of pink upon his cheeks. "Your daughter is gonna break a lotta hearts with those eyes.. Taking after her dad," returning the possible pickup line where he can, one of Dean's eyebrows raise.
"Who's to say I break hearts? Why can't I just make them skip a few beats?" His words are playful, but he looks somewhat serious too.
Dean ponders about how to reply, "well, I mean you certainly seem like the type to cause that."
"Really?"
"I can definitely confirm this, from the ultimate personal experience."
