Sorry for the silence, I've been lazy lately. I had an entire evening where I failed to write much, except the first 500 words of this chapter. I wasn't sure where this one was going, but then I realised where it could be going and it was one of my first ideas for this story, so I got excited! Please review, even if it's to tell me I have Dean/Cas completely wrong. I want to get better!
Sam and Dean exchanged a worried look, and Castiel looked between them both as Siobhan happily played with her pancakes. Dean gave Sam a small nod, and Sam got up from the table, sliding the gun out of the waistband of his jeans. Siobhan gasped, and Dean put a hand gently on her arm, before following Sam over to the door.
'If anyone but us walks back in, you're the caretaker of this place, she's your daughter, and we're staying here because you knew Dad. No angel powers, at all.' Dean said abruptly, disappearing out of the room, and then pulling his gun out as well. The last thing he needed was to explain to his tiny little girl the entire reason why he and Sam had them.
Ahead, Sam pointed the barrel of his gun first at himself, and then at the main door, and then still using the pistol, he pointed at Dean, and then in the direction of the garage. Dean nodded again, sliding a samurai sword out of the nearby display and wielding it upon his shoulder, his gun still in front of him. As he walked down the hallway, he glanced back, and saw Sam rolling his eyes and shaking his head. Dean resisted the urge to argue back, too scared of what it could mean if hunters had broken into the bunker.
He made it to the garage, pinning himself against the wall and peering out through the doorway, trying to adjust to the lack of light in the room. All he could make out was the tiniest gleam from all the old cars and motorbikes that the Men of Letters had bought and kept there. He began creeping through, refusing to turn the light on, his eyes scanning for any danger.
Meanwhile, Sam was looking around as he crept up the curved iron staircase towards the front door. His eyes were scanning everywhere, but he couldn't see anything amiss. He slowly eased the handle of the front door open, and peeked outside. All he could see was the worn path, and the tree line. He crept out slowly, holding the gun out with his fingers on the trigger, and turned in a full circle. When he realised it was all clear, he went back into the bunker and secured the door. He crept slowly back into the bunker, still scanning around, but saw nothing. He did not lower his gun as he walked back into the kitchen.
Siobhan took one look at the barrel of Sam's gun pointing at her and screamed, burying her face into Castiel. Sam lowered the gun quickly, putting it back in his waistband and crossing the room.
'Shhh, Siobhan! I'm sorry!' He bent down by the small girl, but she clung tighter to Castiel.
'Mommy, you don't have one, do you? You don't have what made my other Mommy sick, do you?'
Sam had been taken aback by her calling Castiel "Mommy", not "Daddy Cas" as he'd been used to hearing from her, but when she carried on talking, Sam felt a lead weight in his stomach. He knew Dean had no idea Cassandra had been shot, and from the look on Castiel's face, he didn't either. But the police department had said it was natural causes, a sickness.
Dean came running into the room as Sam was having these revelations, the samurai sword held high in the air. He froze when he saw that only his family sat in the kitchen, and Siobhan screamed again. Dean turned around, expecting someone to have appeared behind him, but it soon dawned on him that the sword was the reason for the screaming. He put it on the counter, and pushed his way next to his daughter.
'Princess, I'm sorry, I was looking for intruders.' He cuddled her, catching Castiel's arms too, and looked up at Sam. 'You see anything?'
'All clear.' Sam shrugged. 'Dean, Siobhan saw my gun, she said she saw one when Cassandra died.'
Dean looked down at the little girl in his arms, who was still clinging to Castiel.
'Siobhan,' his voice was tender, and he stroked her fine, wispy hair softly. She gave a small sniffle, and there was another loud bang. Dean looked up at Sam again.
'Yeah, I'll check it out,' he paused, his hand back near his waistband. 'Was that coming from Siobhan's room?'
He walked out anyway, going to check in her bedroom first, as Dean and Castiel concentrated on soothing their toddler. At one point, during a particularly fierce hug, Dean looked up at Castiel, whose face was just inches from his own. They looked at each other seriously, trying to communicate without including Siobhan. Dean was resigning himself to the fact that he was going to have to sit Siobhan down, and explain what he and Sam did for a living, and how that was going to play such a huge role in Siobhan's life. But he didn't want to do that just then, especially not with the way Castiel was looking at him. It was like he used to, when he was using Cassandra as a vessel, sweet and shy but with a lot of adoration in there. And this much, Dean could manage. But he knew that for Castiel, it wasn't enough, that although the wait for Dean to live his life and join Castiel in heaven was something that Castiel could very well manage, it was in the days passing that it became hard, in the intimate moments like this.
He wanted to love Castiel in the same way, in the way he'd been free to do when Castiel looked like a girl, when all the hang ups that life had drummed into him had ceased to matter. When he could focus on Castiel for who Castiel was, and not his gender's vessel. And if that made him homophobic, well, so be it. He didn't understand how it could happen, not really. He knew he'd slipped up a few times, and coerced Castiel to sleep with him, to let him use Castiel's vessel, and pretend it wasn't a guy he was giving it to. But that didn't mean it sat right with him, that didn't mean he didn't feel guilty afterwards. He was sick of feeling guilty, of wondering if Jimmy was still in there, judging Dean, of how much he was hurting his best friend.
He tried to communicate all of this in the way he looked at Castiel, and from the way Castiel was staring back, it was becoming obvious to Dean that he was giving his own message. That he didn't care if he and Dean were both in male meat suits, he didn't care for homophobia. That to Castiel, almost everything that mattered was right there in this hug. His Dean, his daughter, they were two huge parts of him. And he was so close, Dean could make out every individual eyelash …
'Ahem,' Sam coughed pointedly from the doorway. Dean and Castiel broke the intense stare, and Siobhan cuddled back into Castiel, peeping around his arm at her uncle. 'It was Bear. When Siobhan wiped her vision away, he got stuck in a pillowcase somehow? He was banging against the headboard, trying to get out.'
'She.' Dean said automatically.
'Bear!' Siobhan sniffled. 'Where's Bear?'
'Here you go sweetie,' Sam held Bear out for her, and she snatched Bear tentatively out of Sam's hand.
'Thank you Uncle Sam.'
He smiled, and ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back away from his face.
'No problem, sweetie.'
She cuddled Bear tightly, and snuggled further into Castiel. Dean looked over at Sam, and breathed out a huge sigh of relief.
Dean was making dinner that night, as Siobhan and Castiel moved into their fifth hour of watching Disney Channel. He'd managed to survive an hour stuffed with Princess Sofia and Jake and the Neverland Pirates, but there was no way he could tolerate Doc McStuffins. Instead, he was trying to cook spaghetti, figuring that maybe Siobhan wouldn't seem so scared if she had something fun to eat. She'd clung to Castiel all day, ever since the gun-and-samurai sword incident. Dean had tried, over peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches at lunchtime, to explain everything to her, but she had held onto Castiel's arm so tightly at the mere mention of hunters and guns that Dean had given up quickly. She was just too young. All she wanted was pink, fluffy, princess-themed stuff. She was just a normal toddler, at heart. Dean felt defeated by the situation, and he leaned against the table top as he was stirring the sauce for the meatballs. Suddenly, someone was pressing into him from behind, their arms snaking around his midsection, their fingers tickling as they skated across his thin shirt. He managed to force a small chuckle.
'Hey, Cas,' he murmured. He felt a kiss being pressed gently into his back, along his spine. 'Where's Siobhan?'
'With Sam. He has an abundant knowledge of Disney characters. I think she's making her peace with him after this morning.'
'You get sick of the TV?'
'I wanted to check you were okay. I know that her mistrust has hit you harder than you're willing to admit.'
'Hmmm,' was all Dean was willing to reply. He turned around, still in Castiel's arms, and acted before he had time to think, to put all his usual doubts at the forefront of his mind. He kissed Castiel gently on the lips, his hands resting on Castiel's hips. Castiel kissed him back happily, content with the soft, barely there kisses that Dean was peppering him with. He broke away after a few happy minutes.
'Why do you do this, Dean?' Castiel sounded as unsure as it was possible for an angel to sound. 'Why are you pushing the boundaries when we both know you're going to withdraw at any moment? I know how you feel, even if you didn't express it verbally, you make it more than clear that you're uncomfortable. And now we have Siobhan, maybe we should be more consistent.'
Dean knew what he was actually saying. He was making it clear he didn't like Dean jerking him about. And he was right, they had Siobhan to consider.
'She was asking me the other day if I loved you, and you loved me. I said yes, but I think she's asking because she has no idea of how you feel about either of us.'
Dean sighed, and rested his forehead against Castiel's, his hands massaging along Castiel's midriff.
'You're my family,' it was the best way Dean knew of expressing exactly how he felt. How else could he say that his entire world had shrunk down to just Castiel, Siobhan, and Sam?
'What does that mean, exactly?' Castiel pushed. Dean lowered his hands, onto the very tops of Castiel's thighs.
'It means that you come first, all three of you, no matter what.'
Castiel nodded slowly, and leaned closer to kiss Dean gently again on the mouth. They stopped discussing the complexities of their relationship to concentrate on this tenuous connection. Dean was trying to see how long he could last this time, how much he could calm Castiel's nerves, and Castiel was trying to grab onto the moment, to enjoy it before Dean climbed back into his usual shell, put his guard up, closed him out.
'Oh, sorry!' Sam's voice floated through the doorway. Sam had a knack of choosing the worst moments to walk in and witness Dean's moments of weakness. He pulled away from Castiel wearily, looking over the angel's shoulder to where Sam was carrying Siobhan. 'She wanted juice.' Sam explained hesitantly. She was smiling at her parents, reaching out for Castiel.
'Daddy does love you, Mommy!' she beamed. Castiel broke away from Dean to take her from Sam, and Sam crossed over to the refrigerator to grab her a juice box.
'Dean, is dinner done?' Sam still sounded hesitant, and Dean grabbed the chance to avoid the subject about what Sam had witnessed. He turned around, and saw the spaghetti pot boiling over. He cussed, and moved the dials about, calming the water, and turning the sauce off, checking the meatballs he'd already put into the oven.
He concentrated on finishing the meal, and putting it all into dishes, separating Siobhan's out and cutting it up so it could cool down for her, then bringing it all up to the table for Sam and Castiel to help themselves. He placed Siobhan's plate of spaghetti and meatball mush in front of her, and kissed her hair gently as he did. She cuddled him tightly.
'Thank you Daddy,'
'Any time, Princess.'
He caught Castiel's eye and smiled warmly, then noticed Sam's troubled expression, and his smile began to slide off his face. Sam's expression mirrored all of Dean's doubts, all of his hang-ups. Sam broke off the look when his phone chimed. He pulled it out of his pants pocket and flipped it open to read as Dean sat beside him, scooping a ridiculously large mound of spaghetti onto his own plate.
'Huh,' Sam snorted out. 'Ted wants to know if we've checked out Wichita. He said it's clear of the nephilim, and of us.'
'Tell him we're halfway to Ohio by now.' Dean growled, and dumped a bunch of sauce onto his plate. He shoved a huge mound into his mouth, but he could barely taste it. He was now in a bad mood, too annoyed that other hunters were after his kid. Why the hell couldn't they leave well enough alone? Siobhan was thankfully too engrossed in chasing her food around her plate with her spoon to notice her father and uncle's bad moods, and Dean intended to keep her in the dark now for as long as possible. He was trusting Castiel's advice that she would be able to handle herself should anything go awry, and hope in the mean time that the other hunters would continue swallowing the lies he and Sam were feeding them.
'We should think about our options,' Sam said, and stuffed a meatball, whole, into his mouth.
'I thought we were splitting babysitting duties because we were out of options?' Dean shot back, annoyed that Sam was once again trying to break up the little group, starting with his daughter.
'There's one option we haven't considered. A dependable babysitter with a history of winning over kids.' Sam pointed out. Dean stared at him silently, hoping Sam knew that he was non-verbally cussing him out, just so Siobhan wasn't shocked by his profanity. 'Seriously, we lead these guys to Ohio, and then we go find him.'
'Him? You have someone in mind?' Castiel interrupted. Sam grinned smugly.
'Yep, someone who wouldn't bat an eyelid over a kid with wings, who lives somewhere remote enough to allow her some freedom, and him some warning of visitors.'
Dean was still not impressed.
'Who?'
