Content: In which Castiel takes care of Emma and ends up in Dean's bed in the process.
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Author's Note: I'm happy to hear you're liking Emma so far since she's here to stay and meddle like a pro ;D
And since I'm having a few free days and no reason to hold back, there's gonna be another chapter tonight for you!
Thank you so much for all your support so far :)
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The rest of the day passes quickly.
Dean finds himself captivated by Castiel and his sheer presence, listens to him talking about the horses, the patients in his clinic, his dogs and whatever else that pops up in his mind he deems worthy sharing. Dean absorbs it like a sponge, eager to learn as much as possible about this man.
And he realizes it's just easy with Castiel.
Granted, Dean still acts like a bumbling idiot occasionally, but most of the time he feels like they know each other forever. Like they've been close friends all this time, absolutely content in each other's company.
Once again Dean curses his younger self for missing such an amazing opportunity.
Why the hell had that moron been so stupid to avoid Castiel in the past, probably one of the most awesome people in existence? There is seriously no excuse for that.
Thankfully Castiel seems to be comfortable with them too. At least he continues to be great with Emma, answers her questions patiently and even agrees to a facetime chat with his friend Hannah, so they are able to watch Castiel's dogs in live action. Even when Emma becomes a bit cranky around dinner time, hunger and exhaustion probably catching up on her, Castiel doesn't bat an eyelid but offers an understanding smile in return and tries to distract her with funny work stories (which only works to a certain degree since Emma can get really surly on occasion, but Dean honestly appreciates the effort).
So yes, Dean is seriously happy that everything seems to go so well.
He can't even stop smiling when they finally retreat to their room that night, Emma already half asleep in his arms.
"Look who's glad he came to the wedding with me!" Jo says cheerfully, dropping her jacket onto a chair beside her. "If you're okay with it, I'm gonna be smug about that for the rest of our lives."
Dean snorts. "I'm not okay with that."
"Shame. I'm doing it anyway."
She joined them for dinner a while ago, mostly staying in the background and taking care of Emma like she promised she would, and had been eyeing him ever since. Dean tried to tame his enthusiasm down for his own sake (because the last thing he wants is for Jo to be right about something and be aware of that), but once again he was so mesmerized by Castiel's everything sitting right across from him at the table, he totally forgot about anything else going on around him.
"Okay, fine," he grumbles eventually, carefully laying Emma down on the king-sized bed. "I admit the whole thing's maybe not so bad."
Understatement.
But he won't give Jo that satisfaction.
"Well, it's seriously a coincidence that Castiel and you went to high school together," she says, grinning. "What are the odds?"
Yeah, indeed. And yet, it happened.
"I'm happy you're having someone to talk to," she continues. "I was actually afraid you'd grouch throughout the whole weekend. But hey, you found a buddy, so everything's great! And I told you before we even came here that the best man's great guy, right?"
Dean wrinkles his forehead, trying to recall if she ever mentioned something like this. "As far as I remember you only told me that he's dreamy."
Jo blinks, looking surprised for a minute there, before starting to smirk. "Well, nonetheless, I wasn't wrong, was I?"
She winks at him and Dean fights back the urge to agree.
Instead he huffs right into her face and begins to prepare Emma and himself for bed, wondering at the same time whether he'd be even able to find some sleep after all the things that happened.
He sincerely doubts it.
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The next day Castiel wakes up early.
He always does, no matter whether he's got to go to work or not. It became a routine over the years and he isn't very keen on interrupting his rhythm, even on his free days.
For a minute he considers going for a ride and enjoying the fresh morning air, but in the end he just decides on a jog over the premises and to save the horse riding for later. Emma would probably have a lot of fun watching it or maybe even participating (though she still had been kinda wary and careful around Pepper the day before, so he isn't sure she'd be comfortable on a horse's back so soon), so he postpones that idea.
It feels good running the many paths on the estate – around the paddocks and to the little creek behind the mansion – and Castiel quickly gets lost in the feeling. He's got no idea how much time has passed until he finally returns to the house and first takes a shower before heading for the kitchen.
He gets distracted though when he suddenly spots Jo and Emma in one of the living rooms and instantly notices that something isn't right.
Jo's got the little girl in her arms and rubs her back soothingly, concern clouding her features and looking like she's not really sure what to do next.
Castiel's at her side only a moment later. "Everything alright?"
Jo startles at the sound of his voice, making Emma groan in the process. "Castiel!" she exclaims before pressing Emma a bit closer. "Damn, sorry, honey. It's all good."
"No, it's not," Emma bemoans into the skin of Jo's neck, sounding fairly miserable.
A wave of worry and affection rushes over Castiel and he finds himself reaching out before he even knows what he's doing. "Did something happen?"
"She doesn't feel so hot," Jo explains, pulling a sympathetic face. "I guess breakfast didn't agree with her."
"My tummy hurts," Emma whispers, snaking her arms around Jo's shoulders as if she's trying to crawl right under Jo's skin. "I don't like it."
"I know, honey, I know," Jo assures. "I'm sorry."
Castiel immediately feels all the years of studying medical books kick in. "Does she have any allergies? Or food intolerance?"
Jo appears puzzled for a moment, simply gaping at Castiel, before realization dawns on her face. "Oh, right, Dean told me you're a doctor. Wouldn't shut up about it, to be honest."
Castiel feels weirdly pleased by that information. "Well, I'm a veterinarian foremost. But I do have indeed a medical degree and my mother used to be a nurse, so I caught up on a few things here and there." He steps a little closer. "What did you have for breakfast, Emma?"
She stays silent for a minute and Castiel is on the verge of repeating his question when she eventually answers, "Toast. And eggs."
"Scrambled?" Castiel asks and Emma nods in confirmation. "And I'm fair to assume our cook made it for you? The one with the beard?"
Emma can't help a chuckle. "He looks like Santa."
Castiel smiles in response. "He sure does," he agrees. "And he's using some special seasonings for his eggs. It's really delicious, but I'm afraid your stomach wasn't too happy about it."
At least at this point it seems like the fairest assumption right now.
He throws a glance at Jo and wonders, "Where's Dean?"
"Still in bed," Jo informs him. "I think he had some trouble falling asleep last night. Too much on his mind, probably."
Castiel detects a certain sting in her voice he's unable to interpret, but he figures it isn't considered polite to dig any deeper without her prompting him first, so he merely nods and leaves it with that.
"How about we go back to the kitchen and I make you one of my special teas, Emma?" Castiel suggests, making sure his voice sounds as soothing as possible. "It will help settle your stomach."
Emma turns her head a bit so she's able to cast a quick glance at Castiel. "Tea?" She doesn't seem overly thrilled by the prospect.
Castiel smiles reassuringly at her. "My mother always made it for me when I felt sick," he explains. "And it helped immensely."
Castiel actually isn't really sure what's in it – chamomile and some other herbs –, but it indeed never failed to make him feel better afterwards. It's always his first place to go when some nausea starts threatening to ruin his day.
"The tea … helped?" Emma stills sounds skeptical. She's probably not very willing to put something else into her stomach without being one hundred percent sure that it won't make the situation worse.
"It did," Castiel confirms. "It's magic tea after all."
Emma perks up at those words, just like he anticipated. "Angel magic?"
Castiel chuckles. She's certainly quite excited about the whole angel theme and he seriously doesn't want to spoil it for her, especially not when she's feeling so miserable. So he nods in agreement and says, "Angel magic."
Emma flashes him a grin before turning toward Jo. "We need that tea."
Jo seems a bit bewildered by their conversation, but she catches her grip quite quickly and beams at the girl. "Of course we do."
Just five minutes later Castiel finds himself in the kitchen, brewing the tea, while the cook, a burly man named Frank, apologizes profusely to Emma for upsetting her stomach. The poor guy looks so stricken that Emma pats his cheek and tells him solemnly that everything will be alright because an angel watches over her.
And Castiel can't control a blush heating his cheeks. The way this little girl looks at him, with awe and wonderment, as if she seriously believes him to be a heavenly being, lets something warm pressing within his chest.
He can't remember the last time someone looked at him like that.
And Emma continues to gaze at him in that manner ten minutes later after she drank a good portion of the tea and slowly feels the effect kicking in.
"It's working," she exclaims gleefully.
Jo's lips curl upwards and she drops a kiss onto Emma's hair. "Of course it does. Angel magic always works."
She throws a grateful look at Castiel and mouths thank you. He responds with a smile.
But just a moment later Jo suddenly stiffens, her eyes locked on the clock at the opposite wall. "Oh no, I didn't realize it's so late already."
It's more than obvious that she's eager to leap to her feet and rush off to wherever she's apparently needed to be, but instead she continues to pet Emma's hair and curses underneath her breath, too quiet for the little girl to understand anything.
"Do you have an appointment?" Castiel asks, glancing at the clock himself. It's close to 9 AM.
"Kali," Jo explains. "She's got her last dress fitting today and I promised to come with her. We were about to meet on the parking lot ten minutes ago."
She pulls out her cell phone, looking at some text messages she obviously missed while taking care of Emma, and makes a face.
"Okay, honey, I've got to take you to your dad, alright?" she says.
Emma doesn't make any attempt to move. "I wanna stay here for a while," she protests. She's probably happy that her stomach settled down somewhat and she doesn't want to risk making it worse again by rushing through the hallways. Castiel certainly can relate.
Jo, however, doesn't appear happy. "Emma …"
"Cas can take me to Daddy later," she proposes, her big, pleading eyes landing on Castiel immediately.
And he can't refuse her anything confronted with the sheer force of this. "It would be my pleasure."
Jo hesitates. "Are you sure?"
Castiel nods. "Absolutely."
"But I really don't wanna bother you with this."
"It's no bother at all," Castiel assures. "And you can't let the bride wait."
Jo still seems uncertain for a minute, looking back and forth between them, assessing the situation, before eventually ordering, "Give me your phone."
Castiel does as she says, mainly because he doesn't want to find out what happens if he would refuse.
Jo unlocks his screen, smiles a second at the photo of Mojo and Grace on his display, and instantly goes back to business, tipping and tipping.
"Okay, I just saved mine and Dean's number on your phone," she informs him. "I'm quite sure Dean's still asleep in our room, but on the off-chance of him already wandering around somewhere and eventually freaking out when he can't find his little princess … yeah, you don't wanna meet Mama Bear looking frantically for her cub, believe me. I just sent him a message telling him that Emma's with you, along with your phone number." She halts all of sudden, looking up. "Ah damn, I hope that was okay? I should've asked first."
Castiel smiles, liking the thought of Dean having his number and vice versa. "It's quite alright."
Jo releases a relieved breath. "Okay, great." She presses one last kiss onto Emma*s temple and says, "Be a good girl, honey."
Emma snorts. "I always am."
Jo rolls her eyes dramatically. "Liar," she disagrees, her voice fond. And then she jumps to her feet, thanks Castiel fiercely like he's doing her the favor of a lifetime, and rushes off when another text message, most likely from Kali, reaches her phone.
Emma watches her leave, a wistful expression on her face, and Castiel starts to wonder whether she's already regretting her decision to stay behind. But in the end she goes back to her tea and doesn't say a word.
Castiel feels awkward for a moment, not sure what to say confronted with such an unusual quiet Emma (a clear sign that she's indeed not feeling very well), but eventually he takes a deep breath and starts talking. Yesterday she seemed highly intrigued by whatever story he was telling her, so he figures this didn't change overnight.
And he feels rather good about himself when she at some point begins to giggle at the tale of Mrs. Winter's puppy peeing on him every time the little guy comes for a checkup.
It doesn't take long for her to tell some stories of her own, obviously starting to feel better already.
"Can we go to Daddy now?" she asks after a while when she finished her tea.
"Of course." Castiel leaps to his feet immediately. "We don't want him to worry, right?"
Castiel leads her across the long hallways, listening to her rambling about some of her friends, before they reach their destination a few minutes later.
He halts in front of the door to Dean's room and knocks a few times, waiting for a response from the inside.
But there is none.
For a moment Castiel entertains the thought of Dean already having left his room some time ago, but he dismisses this almost immediately as soon as he remembers that Jo shot him a text telling him that Emma was with Castiel. Dean would probably have called him straightaway to ask about their whereabouts if he had already read the message.
So it's fair to assume that he had no opportunity yet to look at his phone.
Either because he's still sleeping or because his cell died at some point and he didn't notice it yet.
In any case, Castiel knocks louder in the hopes of getting Dean's attention.
Emma, however, doesn't show any kind of reservation. She scoffs like Castiel's manners are the most ridiculous thing before pushing the door open and entering the room, dragging Castiel along with her.
Castiel instantly feels himself recoil when he notices the shut curtains and the undeniable shape of Dean inside the huge bed, face shoved into a pile of pillows and breathing evenly, seemingly not a care in the world.
"Emma, no," Castiel whispers, his eyes wide in the face of this blatant invasion of privacy. "I can't be in here …"
"Why not?" Emma asks confused. "He's your friend, right?"
Castiel senses a pleasant tingling at those words. "Yes, he is," he agrees, trying to keep his voice as low as possible. "It's still not very nice to barge into your friend's room like this. Especially when he's still sleeping."
Emma's eyes narrow thoughtfully. "Then we change that," she eventually decides and starts to smile before suddenly yelling, "DADDY!"
Dean instantly jerks upwards, his arms flailing in every direction while apparently attempting to find some balance, and his head turns right toward Emma, his face an endearing mix or drowsiness and confusion. He blinks his eyes dazedly, clearly having a hard time to grasp what's actually going on (and probably where he even is), and Castiel feels a very strange desire to pull him into a hug.
"Emma?" Dean mumbles sleepily, looking at his daughter as though he's considering if he's dreaming or not. "What –?"
And then he notices Castiel grasping Emma's hand.
For a moment Dean just stares at him, obviously not sure what to make of the situation, when finally it hits him and his eyes go very big. "Cas!"
He jolts and looks down his body in a panic, probably wondering whether he's wearing some clothes and isn't showing his barely covered body to his new friend. Castiel hears him releasing a relieved breath when he notices the rumpled shirt he's got on, next to some sweatpants.
There's not an inch of naked skin Castiel wouldn't see any other day.
And Castiel can't help wondering why he's feeling a little bit disappointed by that.
"What … what are you doing here?" Dean croaks, gripping the blanket in his hand like a life line. He glances between his daughter and Castiel, his cheeks rosy enough to be even visible in the badly lit room.
Castiel immediately walks to the curtains and opens them because the darkness somehow seems intimate and he doesn't want Dean to feel more uncomfortable than he already does.
"I'm very sorry, Dean," he says after stepping next to Emma again. "We didn't mean to startle you like this. And I know it's all kinds of inappropriate to walk into another person's room, even –"
"Cas!" Dean cuts in, now a slow smile on his lips as if charmed by Castiel's rambling. "It's really okay. It's not like you barged into the bathroom or something."
"Still, it's very rude," Castiel insists. "I would never have if …"
He looks pointedly at Emma whose bottom lip started to wobble somewhere along the way. "Daddy," she whispers, sounding all kinds of miserable now.
Dean's expression turns alarmed straightaway. "Sweetheart, what is it?"
He crawls toward his daughter and hauls her up onto the bed right beside him, pulling her into a tight embrace without even a second thought. "Did something happen? Did you get hurt?"
"My tummy," she explains, sounding fairly pitiful for someone who just excitedly talked about meeting Pepper again just five minutes ago. "It's ouch."
"Oh jeez," Dean says. He kisses her hairline, pulling her even closer. "I'm so sorry, baby."
"But it's better now," she concedes. "Cas made me okay again."
She beams at him, so overly grateful, that Castiel finds himself flushing involuntarily. And it gets even worse when Dean joins her as well, a soft smile reserved for Castiel only.
"He did?" he asks, his voice gentle.
Emma nods. "He gave me some magic angel tea."
Dean chuckles. "That sounds delicious."
"It tastes weird," she counters, grimacing. "But it helped."
Dean's eyes are bright while mouthing Thank you at Castiel, his demeanor gentling like having his baby girl in his arms and knowing she's fine is everything he ever needed.
"Yes, some seasoning the cook used obviously didn't agree with her," Castiel says, feeling a bit awkward with all these eyes looking at him with gratitude. "He promised to keep it down for her in the future."
Dean nods. "Yeah, the other day she got nauseous when Sam tried a new recipe with all sorts of exotic herbs. I should have thought of that."
"It's not your fault," Castiel hurries to reassure because he seriously doesn't want Dean to blame himself. "Maybe we can compare the recipes and check what's the common factor, so we'll know exactly what caused the upset stomach and we will be able to avoid it in the future."
Dean smiles tenderly. "Yeah, 'we' can do that."
His gaze lingers on Castiel's face, appearing like he's searching for something important, whatever that might be, before he eventually clears his throat and turns his attention back to his daughter.
"You wanna stay with me in bed and watch some TV?" he suggests, petting Emma's hair. "M*A*S*H is on right now."
She nods in response, seemingly quite enthusiastic now. "Yes please."
Dean chuckles. "That's my girl."
Castiel raises an eyebrow at the interaction right in front of him. He isn't very familiar with modern media in general, but he's quite sure that the mentioned show usually isn't the normal entertainment program for a five-year-old girl.
"M*A*S*H?" he asks, bewildered.
Dean grins brightly. "My little bug over here thinks that cartoons are weird," he explains amused. "But those old TV shows – M*A*S*H, MacGyver, A-Team, to name a few – she just loves them."
He actually sounds quite proud of that before starting to rearrange the blankets and tuck his daughter in. Emma sighs contently and immediately cuddles up to her father when they have finally settled.
"Hawkeye is the best," she proclaims, smiling easily and obviously looking quite forward to enjoying a quiet morning in bed with her dad and her favorite TV shows.
And Castiel honestly doesn't want to intrude on that. He probably overstayed his welcome the second he walked into the room, even if Dean is way too polite to say something contrary.
"I'll leave you to it then," he says. "I'm glad you're feeling better, Emma."
The girl instantly listens up when hearing those words. "You're going?" She doesn't sound overly happy about that.
"We will see each other later," he promises.
Emma, however, looks stricken at the prospect of Castiel leaving. "Why are you going? You don't like M*A*S*H?"
Castiel blinks a few times. "Um, I wouldn't know," he admits. "I've never seen it before. And either way, that's not why –"
"You don't know M*A*S*H?" Emma's eyes grow big as though she can't believe the words coming out of Castiel's mouth. "Daddy, he doesn't know M*A*S*H!"
Castiel is unable to place Dean's expression. During the short exchange he simply looked at Castiel, like a man trying to assess something for himself, and stayed quiet. Even now, with his daughter's attention fixed on him, waiting for him to support her astonishment in Castiel's ignorance of the TV show, he only stares, motionless. It seems like he didn't even notice Emma talking to him.
"You can stay if you want, Cas," Emma eventually decides, obviously getting tired of her father not reacting. "You can watch it with us."
And then she pats the empty space on the bed next to her, a clear invitation to join them.
Castiel finds himself shaking his head straightaway. He might still be alienated by certain rules and customs, but he's quite sure that climbing into bed with a former classmate you just reconnected with the day before and his adorable daughter isn't exactly a normal thing to do.
"I seriously shouldn't," he denies, smiling awkwardly. "But thank you for the offer."
"But what if I get sick again?" Emma asks, pouting. "Only you can make me better."
Castiel can't help feeling warmed by her effort to make him stay with them. He can't remember the last time someone had been so adamant to not see him leave and it sparks something inside of him that makes him jolt for a split second there due to its intensity.
"Please stay," she says. "Daddy doesn't mind, right?"
Dean suddenly jerks out of his thoughts, blinking like he just woke up. He runs a hand through is highly disheveled hair and looks back and forth between them, obviously trying to catch up with the situation at hand.
And in the end he announces, "Yeah, I wouldn't mind."
However, his voice sounds croaky and there's an undeniable blush on his cheeks, indicating that the whole thing might be a little uncomfortable for him. But once again, he's too good of a man to say anything in front of Castiel and Emma.
And Castiel can't have him feeling bad about this. "It's quite alright, Dean. I don't wanna intrude. I've got some things to do anyway."
It's quite a lie, his schedule isn't very full yet (which, however, might change rather spectacularly as soon as the wedding planer would bump into him 'accidentally'), but it's a good enough excuse to exit the room without Emma throwing a fit and starting to think he wouldn't want to spend his time with her.
"You do?" Dean looks at him, his green eyes so piercing that Castiel has to shiver involuntarily. He somehow manages to sound relieved and disappointed at the same time and Castiel sincerely has no idea how to interpret that.
It's very odd.
"Um …" Castiel licks his lips, reciprocating Dean's intense gaze. "It's …"
"'Cause … you could stay if you wanted to," Dean says. "Really."
His flush increases, but his tone doesn't waver.
And Castiel finds himself hesitating immediately. Because, if he's entirely true with himself, the thought of getting into this bed, all close to the warmth and love those two are radiating, feeling the whole domesticity of just spending a lazy morning with watching TV and enjoying the present company – it's quite tempting.
But still … is it appropriate?
"I'm not sure …"
Dean straightens up as if he finally made some kind of decision. "C'mon, Cas!" He points at the spot beside them. "We're friends, right? It's not weird for friends to watch some TV together, if that's what you're thinking."
Castiel tilts his head. "It isn't?"
"Y'know, between friends … a situation's only weird if you're making it weird," Dean explains, grinning. "So, when you're not busy, you can stay with us and watch some M*A*S*H. I promise, it's a good show. You'll like it."
He grabs the remote and turns the program on as if to make a point while Emma looks at him with big, hopeful eyes.
How is a man able to withstand the combined forces of father and daughter?
So before he really realizes what he's doing he takes off his shoes and climbs into the empty spot right next to them on the bed. Emma smirks at him like he won some kind of price and Dean hastily ducks his head to hide a pleased smile.
"So, what is this show about?" Castiel asks, enjoying the comfortable prickling in his chest quite immensely.
And when Emma begins to explain – the most likely PG rated version of – the plot and Dean's features get all soft while he steals several glances at his friend, Castiel can't help thinking that this turns out to become one of the best mornings he had in a really long time.
