Tuesday, October 13th, 2009.
A few weeks had passed since Dean had admitted his affection for Allie. And, in all honesty, nothing between them had really changed. It was something both of them had just... always known. Still, it had been nice to hear the words. Nonetheless, the Apocalypse was still upon them, and such dark times were no place for romance. Dean and Allie came to a mutual, unspoken agreement that there would be nothing like that between them - not yet, anyway. So things continued as they were for several weeks, until one evening.
-
Allie and Sam sat together at the small kitchen table, pouring over books and searching for possible omens that could be approaching. Dean sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the bed next to Emily. The toddler was lying on her stomach, coloring seriously, and Dean himself was taking a red crayon to a rather large picture of a fire engine. He had just barely persuaded Emily to let him color that instead of the frilly pony she had presented him with ("Boys like fire trucks, Em." he had stressed). Every once in a while, Allie would pass a glance to them and then return back to reading quietly, a small smile on her face. This continued for a good twenty minutes, until all of the sudden there was a man standing before the table. Allie jumped to her feet, instantly defensive. "Who are you?" she demanded. "How did you get in here?" The man, who was wearing a trenchcoat, tilted his head to look at her curiously.
In a flash, Dean was at her side, chuckling and grasping her elbow. "Easy, Red. This is Cas. The angel." Allie's eyes widened a bit and she glanced to both Winchesters for confirmation, before turning to look upon the man. Suddenly he was directly in front of her and Allie jumped a bit, but Dean's hand on her elbow prevented her from backpedaling. Castiel observed her curiously, before turning his gaze to Dean. "Is this the object of your affections?" he asked, and Dean coughed a bit in surprise. Luckily, it seemed he wouldn't have to answer, for suddenly a small voice was sounding from beside the bed. "I know you!" Emily chirped, speaking louder and clearer than Dean or Sam had ever heard. Allie blinked. "I'm sure you're mistaken, sweetie. Where did you see him?" Emily took on a look of deep concentration, before frowning and shaking her head. "I can't 'member." she said, and Allie grinned. "That's okay. Come here."
The blonde child hopped over to her aunt's side, all the while watching Castiel with wide, inquisitive eyes, as if trying to place where she knew him from. Castiel, however, was focused on Allie. When she noticed this, the woman blinked a bit in surprise, but found she could not shy away from his almost intense blue gaze. Castiel studied her for a long moment, before looking back to Dean and nodding. "She is strong. You have done well in choosing this companion." Allie's eyebrows shot up. "You can deduce that just by looking at me?" she asked, and Castiel's eyes were upon her once more. "I do not deduce. I know." Allie swallowed, feeling uncomfortable. "But... how..."
"When you were seventeen you fell in love with Dean. You kept in contact with him over the years and you saved every letter he sent you in a box with a green ribbon. You kept that box in the attic of your childhood home and it was the one thing that you would have recovered if you didn't have to go in after your niece. You have not shed a tear since the death of your older brother and it is unlikely you ever will. Instead sometimes you sleep in his T-shirt and clutch a pillow and curl up on the bed and just lie here in the darkness. You are quite a curious human being, indeed."
There was a long silence, before Allie shook her head and gave a somewhat forced laugh. "Well shit. I had no idea you angels were such stalkers." Dean was glaring at Cas, and the angel started a bit. "Forgive me, Allison." he said then, holding up his hands in defense. "When I was assigned to watch over Dean, I was forced to study those around him, you included. I did not mean to sound like… a stalker."
That brought a grin to Allie's lips. Dean watched her for a moment, and something flickered in her grey eyes. "I was just about to start dinner," she says suddenly, and Dean is surprised. Her eyes remain fixed on the angel, and he tilts his head curiously to one side. A smile is twitching at her full pink lips. "I would like it very much if you decided to stay." Castiel doesn't have time to answer before the small woman is brushing past him, padding with bare feet into the makeshift kitchen. All three men watch her, and then Emily is tugging on Dean's jacket. "Dean," she says purposefully, and his eyes drifted down to her face. "Can we has 'skettios for dinner?"
Dean laughs then, a loud and happy sound that makes Castiel blink in confusion and pulls a grin to Sam's solemn face.
After dinner, Castiel bowed his head and gave a quiet thanks to Allie before disappearing silently. Emily reached up and took Sam's hand, pulling him over to the television, requesting that he watch 'Thundercats' with her before bed. Dean watches them go with a fond smile, thinking that being around the child might be just what Sammy needs. He and Em are bonding rather easily. Sam has always been good with kids. Dean was certain he'd make a wonderful father one day – and he refused to acknowledge the possibility that it might not happen. Sammy would get the happy life he deserved, no matter what.
He didn't notice Allie until she was pressing up against him, tucking under his arm like she belonged there or something. Dean adjusted accordingly, his hand fitting to her thin shoulder. The action came as naturally to him as breathing did, and he actually had to pause to think of when in the hell he'd become so soft. But he couldn't bring himself to mind as her hand rubbed small circles in his back and he could hear the smile in her voice as she spoke.
"I didn't realize how much I missed you laughing," she said, and though his instincts insisted that he point out the cheesiness of her statement, he found that there was a lump in his throat preventing his speech. She tightens her grip briefly, rotating her body like a lithe dancer's, and before he could scramble and save his manly pride, she was pressing her lips to his cheek. The sigh that escaped him conveyed so much more emotion than he intended it to, but he didn't even have time to stiffen. "I love you," she said quietly, and even though his unseeing gaze had been trained on Sam and Emily the entire time, he could tell that she was smiling.
The damned lump in his throat still didn't go away, so instead of saying anything, he just tugged her closer to him, tucking both his arms around her and holding her tightly to his torso. She didn't make any complaints; simply pressed her forehead into the hollow of his throat and let him tell her with his embrace what he could not say with his words.
