Author's Note: I might have to change this story's rating after this chapter. Also, let's forget about the whole updating regularly thing that I promised a while back. Schoolwork and extracurricular stuff got intense and I couldn't post sooner.

~ Chapter Twelve ~

Daddy wasn't at home very much. Papa said that it was because he had been too busy working with Uncle Sam to come home every day, and that things would go back to normal sooner or later.

Jo didn't mind moving around so much either, but she did miss home. Papa would never tell her why they would move places again or how long they would be staying, and it was confusing. They had moved into an apartment only a week ago, and it had a swimming pool in that back that she really, really wanted to swim in, even if it was cold outside. Papa had gone back to their old-home to get her bathing suit and a beach towel and when Jo told Daddy about it, he got mad at Papa.

Jo couldn't figure out why Daddy was so grumpy about it, but he said sorry to Papa later –all she knew was that she didn't like it when her daddies fought. Alfie didn't like it either, she could tell.

Alfie cried more nowadays, usually whenever he was left by himself or in the middle of the night. Jo could only assume that it was because he didn't like being all by himself, or with no one holding him.

Sometimes in the middle of the night, Jo would be lying awake and looking out her window when Alfie would start crying. A few moments after the crying began, Jo would just listen to Papa get out the squeaky bed and walk over to the crib. He would take baby out of the crib and walk around the room some more, talking to him as he moved around. After that, Alfie usually settled down, but sometimes he was hungry – so Papa would go into kitchen and heat up milk for the baby. He would talk to the baby while he waited for the milk to heat up too, and would coo to him while Alfie drank his milk, which always had to be warmer than Jo's, Daddy said so.

What happened after this though was her favorite part. Papa would take Alfie back into their room and start walking around again, he would either coo to him again, or start humming. Jo could never guess what song it actually was that Papa would hum, but he used to hum it for her when she was tiny too. It was sort of a lullaby, called "Hey, Jude" and Daddy sang the real words sometimes instead of Papa humming it, and it made her happy – happy and ready to drift off to sleep within an instant.

/

Castiel ran a hand through his hair as he sat down in the car again, letting out a sigh at the silence surround him. He had just dropped off Jo and Alfie at his sister, Anna's house for the night. She had called him a few nights ago asking how he was doing, to which she quickly caught on to his exhausted tone of voice and offered to take kids off his hands.

Anna was like that, she always had been. She was rather sympathetic to everyone she was close to, especially family, and that was probably best. Castiel had been reluctant to say yes to her though, the knowledge that Jo could need a lot of attention to be entertained and that Alfie was barely four and a half months old and would most likely need even more of her attention. Anna wouldn't let him say no though, and whisked both the baby and the little girl off to her living room which she had transformed from a tasteful sitting room for her work clients and colleagues to a temporary playroom for them.

It was raining that evening when Castiel had gotten back to their apartment, and the cold air that welcomed him home was dismaying, to say the least.

He moved to turn on the heater as he took off his coat and shoes, leaving them in their rightful places in the closet nearest the front door. The closet didn't have much in it on the rack: only a few coats and sweaters, the rest of their belongings were still in boxes that Castiel refused to completely unpack for fear of having to repack it all and move again. Where they lived at any given time depended on Dean's paranoia that they would be hurt sooner rather than later acting up, and this had proved to be a wearisome task to endure.

He collapsed onto the living room couch and clicked the power button on the TV remote, currently content to watch what happened to be on where he had left it from last night. It was a sitcom of some sort, surely a rerun or a marathon, because one unusual episode followed another, and the one after that, etc. Lying there though, with his head on a scratchy pillow and the rest of him underneath a similarly itchy blanket, it was far too easy to drift off to sleep.

/

"Cas." A nearby voice had just woke him up, and Castiel rubbed his sleepy eyes for a moment before opening them.

"Dean." He greeted drowsily, suddenly face to face with his husband; he propped himself up on his elbow.

"Hey babe." Dean leaned forward from his cross-legged position on the floor, gently kissing his husband.

"You're home early." Castiel murmured once the thought occurred to him – Dean wasn't supposed to be home until Sunday and it was Friday.

"Yeah." Dean reassured, shifting his position from the floor to beside his husband on the couch. "We were done with that case in Indiana sooner than expected."

Castiel nodded his understanding with a smile – he had missed Dean, despite all their recent arguments. No, he especially missed him because of all their recent arguments; Dean's presence wasn't the same comforting, warm one he had grown so fond of when he was stressed.

"Where are the kids?"

"At my sister's." Castiel grinned a bit with a shrug of his shoulders. "She insisted."

Dean laughed at this for some reason and wrapped an arm around his partner, pulling him closer and planting a kiss on his forehead.

Castiel let himself fold into Dean's embrace, clasping his own two hands behind Dean's back and holding the man tightly against him.

"I missed you, Dean."

"I missed you too."

Castiel pulled away slightly, loosening his hold as he pressed a kiss into Dean's lips, delighting at their warm saccharine sweetness. Dean's fingers pressed into his sides, alluring him to move into him, straddling one of his husband's legs as one hand rested on the back of his neck, the other in his hair.

Dean's tongue glided across Castiel's lips, spurring his own tongue forward in the most desperate, uncontrolled display of affection he had exhibited in a long time. Dean softly chuckled, a menacing, but wonderfully enticing sound, that made his heart stammer in its beating and his cheeks flush with the tenderness of the situation.

Teeth nipped at bottom lips, tongues, faster and harder and with more passion than they'd used in months – Castiel grunted as he was dropped onto their bed, the cold sheets reviving his sleepy senses almost instantly.

Dean was back on top of him within minutes, kissing, licking and nipping his neck, only pausing to practically rip off their shirts with an irritated groan. Castiel twisted his fingers into his husband's hair, pulling him back down into their kiss, weakly thrusting his hips up into him, reveling in the instantaneous returned action before Dean was kissing down his chest, sucked at his nipple, kissing him again, shoving his tongue all but down Castiel's throat, claiming him again, like the first time.

Belts jingled, zippers were undone and his heart pounded violently in his chest – it was all happening so fast. So incredibly, irrevocably fast, yet Castiel couldn't bring himself to care. He loved the vigorous way Dean claimed him, ground into him, made fresh pink marks in his skin, and the way he reacted at the drunk, sloppy, filthy curses he whispered in his ear, begging him for more, more, more.

"Dean." He moaned at the relentless heat that danced and swirled around his cock. Through heavy-lidded eyes, he brought his head up slightly, watching with wholesome fascination at the way his lover's head bobbed up and down along his dick, waves of hot, rippling pleasure cascading its way from his core.

He always came fast for Dean, though he never meant to. He really did want to turn the tables on him that time too, but he wasn't having it today. Getting back from a hunt usually did that to him. It put him on edge, almost jumpy if it weren't for the situation.

Everything turned white, his eyes rolled up into his skull as he thrust forward and groaned loudly, not caring whether anyone heard him or not. This was Dean, this was his husband who was finally home and nothing could take the happiness that came from this away from him right now.

He sat up again, kissing Dean this time, hungrily drinking in every last bit of him that he could, the sensational effects of his orgasm still humming through his system as he did so. Dean pulled away, a small groan escaping his lips as he did so before pressing his lips against Castiel's ear, murmuring flawless promises into his ear.

/

He really didn't want to do this, as it was single-handedly the worst, and last thing he wanted to do again. Dean didn't want to leave again. Didn't want to leave his family again, leave little Jo not understanding why Daddy was never home, and why Alfie never got to be held by Daddy anymore. She was always curious about that.

But more than anything, he didn't want to leave Cas again.

He traced a lazy hand up and down his husband's spine, watching the sleepy face he knew he wouldn't see for a while again – Dean swallowed hard before finally going through with what needed to be done. He wouldn't leave without an explanation – that would make things even crappier than they already were.

"Babe, wake up." Dean cooed, pressing a kiss into Castiel's forehead.

His partner had a sharp intake of breath as he woke like he always had, as though he had to stop being so calm and peaceful the second he woke up. "What is it?" The sleepy voice asked, drowsy blue eyes staring into his, one hand clasping around Dean's waist, holding him tight again.

"I have to go." Dean finally confessed between kisses.

"You just got home, dear."

"I know."

Neither of them said anything for a few moments, but Cas finally shattered the painful silence.

"Jo and Alfie miss you." His tone was so soft and sincere, and it was almost enough to make Dean want to go looking for his phone to call Sam and tell him to wait a few days, though he knew he couldn't.

"I miss them too." He sat up, draping the blanket he had been curled up under back over Cas, but not making eye contact with him once.

"How long?" Castiel asked after another extended period of silence.

"How long what?"

"How long will you be gone this time?"

Dean shook his head. "Still don't know."

"Will you call us then?"

Their eyes met again as Dean tied his shoe once more, and he nodded gravely. "Yeah."

"Is that a promise?" Cas had moved forward in the bed so that they were close together again.

"It's a promise."