A/N: Here I am! So sorry I kept you guys waiting for so long I am the worst person ever. Also, I still maintain the position that I will still be writing this series when they put me six feet under, I've got so many ideas and stories mapped out. I just have to write them.

Disclaimer: I only own my OCs. Anything Star Wars related belongs to the creators, I'm just borrowing them for reference!

Chapter Thirty-Six
Bonding

Thunder Creek, WY
June 7, 2001

Dean woke first, stirring in the quiet darkness of Paige's room with a skull heavy from sleep and eyes that felt like they were full of sand. The curtains blocked out all the light so it was impossible to tell what time it was, but his bladder was urgently informing him that he needed to go to the bathroom, pronto. As carefully and quietly as he could, he pulled away from Paige and crept silently into the bathroom.

When he emerged, Paige hadn't stirred from where she was laying on her stomach, face buried in her pillow and breathing deeply.

Yawning wide enough to crack his jaw, he fumbled on the bedside table to hit the light on her alarm clock, which told him it was 9:04 am on Thursday the 7th of June. They'd slept for over an entire day. He groaned slightly and knuckled his eyes, a little irritated that he still felt tired despite catching up on the sleep deprivation. In hindsight, maybe sleeping that long hadn't been the best idea. A moment later his stomach rumbled loudly and reminded him that he hadn't eaten a thing except donuts in over twenty-four hours.

Deciding to ignore his stomach, he settled back under the covers to doze for a bit longer, resting his cheek on her shoulder blade and nuzzling his nose into the fabric of her shirt. He slipped in an out of consciousness for a while, stirring when she shifted and made a confused, sleepy noise.

Groggy, Dean squinted at the clock. It was almost ten. "We should prolly get up," he mumbled into her shirt. "'s ten on Thursday, we slept forever."

"Why," she mumbled, mashing her face further into the pillow. They quietly lay together for a while longer before she sighed heavily and swung her feet out of bed to sit up. He sat up with her, rubbing his hands vigorously over his face, fingers catching on his stubble.

"C'mon," she sighed, grabbing him by the hand and dragging him out of bed. He didn't protest, going along with her willingly while she tugged him into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

/

They emerged thirty minutes later, squeaky clean and with tired muscles relaxed from the hot water. It was a relief to actually get to take their time showering, given the quick and brutally icy military-style showers they'd been taking for the better part of a week now.

Dean yawned again, kissing Paige before heading to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. He watched over the counter separating the kitchen from the living room as she curled up against the arm of the sofa with her favorite blanket and a book, immediately burying her nose in it and ignoring the world around her.

He was a pretty good pancake maker at this point and figured it'd be a filling breakfast for all of them, especially if he scrambled up a few eggs while he was at it. Taking care to avoid banging pots and pans around and incurring the wrath of Constance by waking her up, he grabbed a bowl and started mixing the pancake batter while the coffee percolated behind him.

The smell of cooking breakfast must have roused Constance from her sleep, because she appeared in the doorway looking sleep-tousled and confused. Blinking blearily, she stumbled into the living room and took a moment to process what she was seeing.

"Morning," Dean drawled, pouring three pancakes on the grill.

"Coffee?" she growled, glaring around her like she was suspicious of everything. It took him a long moment to realize she was squinting, not glaring, and that she obviously didn't have her contacts or glasses on.

Wordlessly, he pointed to the counter to her left and turned back to the pancakes.

"You poison them?" she grumbled, peering down at the fluffy golden pancakes he was getting ready to put on the plate.

"No," he responded mildly, scooping them off the grill and onto the plate before sticking them in the microwave to keep them warm as he poured three more onto the grill. "Pancakes, not rocket science."

He heard her bang around for a moment with the coffee stuff before she shuffled out into the living room and collapsed gracelessly onto the couch with Paige, apparently deciding to trust him or just not caring enough if he put arsenic in her food.

"Since when does he cook," Connie asked as she sipped her coffee and turned on the TV, mindlessly flipping through the channels even though TV sucked at ten on a Thursday morning. There was nothing on but news shows, talk shows, and soap operas.

"Since I taught him how to make pancakes," Paige responded absently, not even glancing up from her book. Today it was some sci-fi book judging by the cover.

"Hmph."

"Just drink your coffee, grumpy."

Connie didn't argue, giving up on television and switching over to the movie channels instead.

By the time they finished eating the breakfast he'd made, they felt relatively normal and completely unwilling to do a goddamn thing.

"I vote for a Star Wars marathon," Paige yawned, glancing out the window. It was raining outside, the dark and ominous clouds in the distance suggesting it would be doing a little more than just drizzling soon enough.

"Seconded," Dean and Constance said in unison.

Dean was stretched out along the length of the couch, his head in Paige's lap while she idly ran her fingers through his hair. Connie was curled up like a cat in the armchair, sipping a cup of hot cocoa she'd made herself a few minutes previously.

It was a lazy, rainy afternoon. Not having to do anything Brotherhood related meant it was the most relaxing few hours they'd had in days, if not weeks. They were too lazy to cook so they ordered pizza from the local place in town. Dean ignored the judgey eyebrows the teenager who delivered the pizza gave him for answering the door in nothing but a black wife beater and his batman boxer shorts while the imperial march blared from the television in the room behind him.

Dean accepted the pizza, tipped him, said, "One day you'll maybe get lucky enough, baby face," and then slammed the door in the kids face.

"Nice going, now everyone knows you live with us," Constance snarked from the armchair without looking away from the TV screen.

"Not like they don't know that anyway," he retorted, chucking a bread roll at her head in retaliation. He smirked when it nailed her on the cheek and ducked under the return volley.

"Fucker," the blonde said to his retreating back, which just made Paige and Dean laugh at her. "Grandpapa is gonna murder you."

"Is not, he loves me," Dean said around a mouthful of pepperoni pizza.

"True," Paige agreed from where she was tucked into his side watching Luke and Darth Vader duke it out with lightsabers.

"Still don't know how that happened. One day he was just there and the next thing I know he's banging by best friend and he's considered one of us," Connie muttered to herself right before stuffing nearly an entire slice of pizza in her mouth.

"Chew and swallow," Dean advised her solemnly. "I'd hate for you to choke."

They both laughed when Connie just flipped him off, mouth to full to retaliate.

Return of the Jedi was almost over when someone knocked on the door. Sighing heavily, Paige got up to answer it, not even caring that it was four in the afternoon and she hadn't bothered to change out of what she'd slept in.

Her brother was standing there with the baby in the crook of his arm and his judgmental eyebrows locked and loaded.

"Shut it," Paige told him warningly, before beaming and scooping the baby right out of his arms to cuddle him. "Hey, bubba! God, you get bigger and more adorable every time I see you."

The baby beamed up at her, babbling happily as he stretched small hands out to touch her chin. She playfully chewed on his fingers and headed into the living room, leaving her older brother to follow. Dean looked up as soon as he heard the baby and grinned himself, pausing the movie and ignoring Connie's rather vocal protest.

Paige sat right next to him on the couch so that he could fawn over the baby too.

"Glad to know I'm so appreciated," Chris drawled as he plopped down onto the other armchair and threw a popcorn kernel at Connie's head.

"He's way cuter than you are," his sister told him seriously, bending her head down to rub her nose on her nephew's and in so doing making him giggle loudly.

"Yeah, well, I was hoping you guys could watch him tonight? It's date night and dad bailed on us because Lilly apparently threw up this afternoon and they don't want to risk getting him sick."

Paige looked up at her brother and finally noticed how nicely he was dressed and the fact that he had yet to remove his shoes. She shifted her nephew into Dean's arms and said, "Sure, we can watch him. Do you have his diaper bag?"

Chris handed it over, relief written all over his face. "Thanks, baby girl, you're a lifesaver."

"Don't call me that," she said automatically, reaching out to take the bag.

Her brother just smirked and then jolted like he'd just remembered something. "Shit, that reminds me — grandpa wants to see you too at the ranch house really quick, said he had a couple of questions he needs to ask you," he said, gesturing at Paige and Connie.

"Ugh, that means I have to get dressed," Connie scowled, but she threw off her blanket mountain and stomped to her bedroom regardless as Paige's expression twisted into something sour and she did the same.

Dean just grinned, amused at their annoyance, before returning his attention to the baby currently slobbering all over his shirt.

"Sorry," Chris said apologetically, handing him the burp rag.

"Just a little baby drool," Dean shrugged, mopping at the spot and lifting the baby up so he could blow a raspberry on his stomach. "We've got him, you get along to wherever it is you have to go." He took another look at Chris' clothes. "Dude, where are you going dressed like that?"

"Uh, well, it's kind of a weekend thing?" Chris hedged with a shrug and a bashful grin.

"We agreed to a night, not a weekend," Dean pointed out dryly.

"Technically, Paige said, 'sure, we'll watch him'."

"At which point you distracted her with grandpa's summons." Dean couldn't help it, he laughed a little bit and wiggled his fingers in front of the baby's face.

Chris just shrugged and admitted, "Guilty." He stood from the chair and brushed off his slacks. "Grandpa paid for a three-day vacation to Maui."

Dean groaned. "God, life must be grand for you rich people," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'd love to just fly off to a goddamn tropical island for three days."

"Dean, you hate flying."

"Whatever, it would still be nice."

"Yeah, well, we're going to enjoy it. I'd love to get some surfing in while we're there, and Amy wants to go hiking and zip lining and all kinds of stuff I'm not sure she's allowed to do considering she's pregnant. She wants to see the Ocean Center while we're there, too. And I'm sure we'll get some snorkeling and scuba diving in, too, along with lazing about the pool and soaking up the sun."

Dean threw a pillow at him, making him laugh and toss it back on the couch.

"You sure you don't mind watching him?"

"Chris, I love this kid," Dean told him matter-of-factly, settling the baby against his shoulder. "Plus he's a total angel, hardly even cries. I don't mind at all. We didn't exactly have plans to leave the house this weekend, anyway, besides maybe going to see a movie or something."

"Have you seen Hannibal yet? It should still be out."

"Like we've had time to see movies with all this Brotherhood shit going on," Dean snorted, handing his nephew a toy and smiling when the baby gnawed on it and babbled happily.

"Go see it. Not as good as Lambs, but still pretty creepy."

"What's creepy?" Paige asked as she reappeared tying her hair into a bun on the top of her head.

"Anthony Hopkins as Hannibal," Chris told her, kissing her cheek. "Thanks for watching him. You guys better hurry, grandpa looked irritated when I last saw him. Dean, you sure you're okay watching him?"

"I think I can manage an infant for two hours given I've watched him alone for entire days before," Dean told them, waving his hand to shoo them out the door. The seven-month-old on his hip giggled from the movement and threw his toy on the ground as they were walking out the door.

As soon as the door closed after the whirlwind chattering of the three siblings, Dean sighed and looked down at the baby, who the family still wasn't quite sure how to address. Chris and Amy usually called him John or JB, and Brad and Deb had taken to calling him Johnny. The baby just blinked up at him, dark blue eyes curious as he gnawed on his hand and drooled all over himself, his dark hair sticking up in all directions.

"Alone at last, huh, JB? You know what I think? I think JB is just awkward to say and your grandpa is John, so I think I'll call you Johnny, little dude. I like it better than JB. Your mom and dad sure weren't thinking when they named you," he told his nephew while he tenderly smoothed his hair down. The baby cooed, smacking him on the arm with his drooly hand before going back to gnawing on it.

By now he was a pro with the baby's schedule and had no difficulty getting him into the bath, laughing as the baby smacked the water and played with the bubbles and squealed with delight as he pushed the rubber duck and boat around with accompanying noises. He scooped him out of the tub to dry him off, laughing at how his hair stuck up all over the place.

Clothed in pajamas and with a fresh diaper, the baby was sitting up on the temporary changing station they'd set up in the spare room for when Summer visited with Alex. He babbled animatedly before sticking his arms up and adopting his pleading expression.

"I'm a giant pushover," Dean told him but picked him up regardless, pressing kisses to his fat little baby cheeks and inhaling the scent of his baby shampoo. "Your uncle is a sap, Johnny."

The baby just smiled toothily, one finger curled around his as he cradled him in one arm and headed back to the kitchen.

He fed him one more bottle after he got him all dried off and in his pajamas and settled in the rocking chair to soothe him to sleep while he watched the end of the movie. The credits were rolling just as the door opened and Paige and Connie came in, halfway through an argument about something Brotherhood related.

"Aww," they said in unison, beaming at the sight before them. Dean in sweatpants and a T-shirt, the baby in blue pajamas and with damp hair from his bath, sucking his thumb and half asleep tucked up under Dean's chin.

"Shut up," he said without heat. He kept rocking and rubbing the baby's back, knowing he was only moments from passing out.

"Dean Winchester, baby whisperer extraordinaire," Paige teased as they sat on the couch and re-started the movie, put out that he'd watched it without them.

When Jay was well and truly zonked out, Dean rose carefully from the rocking chair with one hand under his butt and the other cupping his head. "I'm gonna put him down," he murmured, heading to the spare room where Paige had already set up the port-a-crib. He made sure to turn on the baby monitor and bring it out into the living room with him so they could hear if he cried.

"Thank god he sleeps better than Banshee," Connie told them, wiggling to get comfortable in her chair and yawning. "Seriously, Alex is louder than Ally and that's saying something."

They all laughed, remembering in detail how fucking loud the baby had been on his last visit and the sleep deprivation they had all suffered. It had been a cranky week in the apartment, that was for sure.

When the credits rolled a second time, Dean was asleep with his head leaned back against the couch and the girls were half-asleep themselves.

"Dean," Paige whispered as Connie turned the TV off, leaving the room in darkness. She heard her friend get up, put her dishes in the sink, and then head to her room. Beside her, Dean made a sleepy noise and turned into her, his cheek on her shoulder and breath warm on her neck. She poked him to get his attention and repeated, "Dean."

At the slightly louder tone he stirred, mumbling, "Whu?"

"Come on, big guy, I'm not sleeping on this godforsaken couch," she told him seriously, getting to her feet and holding her hand out. Her eyes had adjusted enough to the darkness that she could see the furniture clearly enough. When his hand closed around hers, she tugged him to his feet and threaded their fingers together.

The bedroom was dark and quiet. She set the baby monitor on the bedside table and yawned, going through her nightly routine with Dean half-awake beside her. They fell into bed and pulled the covers up, the silence in the room comforting to both of them after the crazy week they'd had.

"Who gets him first?" Dean said, humming slightly in contentment as he rubbed his cheek against his pillow and yawned.

"I will," she responded, curling closer to him. Dean was a space heater, she never had to worry about being cold. She took full advantage of this knowledge and wiggled her toes under his thigh, making him inhale sharply in surprise.

"Christ, your feet are like fucking ice cubes," he whined, but he didn't pull away. Reaching out, he grabbed her hands, which were also ice cubes. "The things I do for you," he bemoaned, tucking her freezing fingers against his chest and shivering slightly at how cold they were.

"Connie says my appendages are cold like my soul," she told him with a snort of laughter.

"Connie is full of shit," he volleyed back, tugging her closer so he could wrap her up in his arms. He slept like a clingy octopus, he knew, but she didn't seem to mind overly much. "Your soul isn't nearly as cold as hers. Hers is like the arctic circle."

"Can't argue with that," she laughed, tucking her nose into his collarbone and making him curse and jolt again.

"I swear to god, I'm making you wear mittens everywhere even if it's ninety degrees out," he grumped, all but smushing her face into his shoulder.

His skin was warm and so was she in no time but she didn't bother pulling away. With the fan going and the air conditioning running, it wasn't uncomfortable. The apartment was quiet; her nephew would sleep about halfway through the night before he needed a diaper change unless he slept all the way through the night, which he had done once or twice. Connie was probably already dead to the world given how tired they all still were from severe lack of sleep.

She honestly thought he was asleep and jumped a little in surprise when his voice broke the silence.

"Somewhere along the line, I got used to domestic," he told her quietly. "I'm not even freaking out. If I'm freaking out it's because I'm freaking out over not freaking out."

Paige hummed, pressing a kiss to his collarbone and hugging her arm around his waist. The other was tucked between their chests. "Is that a bad thing?"

Dean was quiet for a moment, mulling it over before shrugging and saying, "Nah. I just didn't think I'd ever be domestic, considering how I grew up." He paused and she could almost sense his brain working. "Actually, it's kind of nice. I'm getting used to having people care about me again."

"Your dad cares about you."

"I meant people besides my dad caring about me. I know dad cares. I mean, he's my dad."

Paige smiled and rubbed his back, her smile widening when he practically melted as the tension seeped away.

"Hmm, that's nice," he told her, exhaling long and slow and hugging her close to kiss her forehead. "Still not sure how we got saddled with a baby all weekend."

"While Chris gets to strut about a tropical island," Paige added, rolling her eyes in the darkness.

"They deserve a vacation," Dean told her, nuzzling her forehead this time. He could feel her heartbeat against his side, her cheek flush against his bicep. Eventually his arm would fall asleep but he would enjoy it while it lasted.

"We all deserve a vacation," she laughed, relaxing herself as the stress of the past few weeks finally seeped away.

"Hell, I'll take your grandpa leaving me alone for a week over a tropical getaway any day," he told her seriously. "Your grandpa is a hardass, like, holy shit."

"He can get a little intense," she agreed, her eyelids slipping closed as his voice lulled her to sleep.

"Yeah, well, I have a question for you, smarty-pants, and I was waiting until we were alone so I wouldn't put you on the spot," he said conversationally.

That woke her up almost instantly, her curiosity peaked. "I'm listening," she encouraged when he didn't say anything.

Dean chewed his lip for a moment before deciding to hell with it and said, "Were you actually asking me to move in the other night, or do we chalk it up to sleep deprivation and pretend the conversation never happened?"

"Oh," Paige blurted, then cursed herself for not talking it out further before passing out. "I meant it. The spare key is on the hook by the door."

He exhaled slowly and nodded. "Okay," he murmured, tilting her chin up. His thumb stroked along her jawline and around the shell of her ear. "I practically live with you anyway and I think I can survive an interrogation by your grandpa."

Paige smiled and turned her head to kiss his palm, making him go completely still in surprise as his heartbeat stuttered and then increased. "What's wrong?" she whispered, worried she'd done something to upset him.

"Nothing, it's just . . . nobody's done that to me before," he admitted, strangely touched by the gesture. He kissed her then, desperately, hoping to convey with actions what he wasn't very good at conveying with words.

"I love you, you know that, right?" she told him seriously when he pulled away, her fingers framing his face.

"I know," he assured her as he grinned in the darkness of the room, rolling them so he was on top of her bracing most of his weight on his elbows. She smiled back and tugged his shirt up, fingers warm against the skin along the waistband of his boxers.

They didn't even care when Connie kicked the wall twenty minutes later and loudly complained that they needed to get a soundproofed room.

As it turned out, Dean had gotten slightly ahead of himself when he declared he could survive a talk with John Newbern II in regards to the man's granddaughter.

He was currently sitting across from him at the kitchen table and he'd never been more terrified in his life.

The males of the Horde had already given him the "you break her heart and I break your face" speech, and he'd even managed to survive having a knife in his balls compliments of Constance and her very thorough threats, but this was different. Hell, even Brad's threat to dismember him and bury him in the backwoods paled in comparison to this.

John was just sitting there.

Staring at him.

Thus far, he'd hardly said a word except to demand if he was living with her and what his intentions were, leaving him squirming in the kitchen chair and desperately wishing Mary would appear to alleviate some of the tension. He'd take getting beaten half to death by her ladle over this any day.

John's hands were steepled and he was studying him with the full intensity of a lion regarding its prey. "So," he drawled after nearly five agonizing minutes of silence — not that Dean was counting. "You've moved in with my granddaughter."

"Uh, yes," he responded, mentally kicking himself for stammering. He was a grown-ass man. Stammering was ridiculous.

"I see."

"I mean, I was practically already living there anyway?" he offered, then mentally kicked himself again because not helping.

John narrowed his eyes. "How long has this been going on?"

"Uh, since after that clusterfuck of a hunt in Colorado. I think?"

"So you haven't been sleeping with her this entire time."

"I — what? No." Dean glared across the table and crossed his arms, awkwardness forgotten in the face of his indignation. "I don't see how that's anyone else's goddamn business except mine and hers."

"I see," John said again, in that strange serene tone he always adopted right before shit hit the fan.

"Quit saying that, bad shit always happens when you say that," Dean muttered, crossing his arms a little tighter as if to protect himself.

"You use protection, I assume?"

Dean rolled his eyes so hard he was momentarily afraid they might fall out of his head. "For fuck's sake, I'm not a teenager, I know what a fucking condom is for, thanks."

"Clearly you've had lots of practice, according to your father."

Despite himself, Dean's cheeks pinked. "I — well, okay, kind of. Only ever one night stands, and there aren't as many as most people would think."

"And now you're just magically a one-woman man?"

Every muscle in his body tensed as he stared across the table in disbelief. "Are you suggesting I might be cheating on her? Have you lost your fucking mind?"

"Well, you were a womanizer."

"I had sex with random women in sleazy bars like ten times! I was a teenager, okay? Sometimes hunts went shitty and I needed something to get away from my shitty ass family. But I am not cheating on her. I wouldn't do that, ever, and besides, Chris is with me on hunts. Do you think I'm a fucking idiot? And besides we both know she'd fucking skin me alive if the Horde didn't do it first!"

John's gray eyebrow arched upwards. "So you would cheat on her if Chris wasn't with you?"

"Would you quit putting words in my mouth?" he growled, slamming his hands down on the table. "I'm fucking in love with your granddaughter, okay?"

"No need to lose your temper, Dean," John said mildly. He then added, "Are you sure it's not just lust?"

"Yes, I'm sure! What the actual fuck, John?" Dean shouted, hands clenching into fists. "I love her. Love her. It's not fucking lust and fuck you very much for saying so." Furious, he stood so abruptly his chair squealed across the tile, glaring down at the Newbern patriarch who just gazed back at him with calm blue eyes dancing with what he could swear was a mixture of amusement and mischief.

"What do you plan to do about it?" John asked him, folding his own arms across his chest though he made no effort to stand.

"Well, marry her, for starters, if she'll fucking let me," Dean snarled. "Have a nice fucking day, you asshole." With that, he stormed from the kitchen and slammed the door behind him hard enough to make the glass rattle in the panes.

John sighed in satisfaction and stood, pushing his chair back in and smiling to himself. "Well?" he called in the direction of the living room, where his ridiculously overprotective grandsons had huddled to eavesdrop on the conversation even though he'd specifically told them not to. Mary appeared in the doorway with the expression that clearly conveyed was that really necessary while also managing to inform him that he really should have known better than to try to keep his grandsons away.

"He passes," Jared called. There was a murmur of agreement and Mary just shook her head in exasperation.

"How I got saddled with so many morons still escapes me," she sighed, aggressively starting to pull food out of the fridge.

John smiled at her and kissed the side of her head, hugging her tightly before letting her go. "What do you think, love?" he murmured while he listened to the boys pull out the board games. He could hear Elliot and Jared arguing over whether or not it was safe to play Monopoly while Cole informed them Monopoly would just make them stab each other.

"I think he's in love with her," she told her husband matter-of-factly. "And that you were a complete and utter asshole to him, John Bradley Newbern."

Grinning, John just shrugged, amused. "Had to test his mettle and he passed as far as I'm concerned. Thought he was going to stab me for a second there when I asked if he was cheating."

He then sauntered out of the kitchen to confiscate Monopoly because blood was a bitch to get out of white carpet and he didn't need to witness his grandsons trying to kill each other.

Mary watched him go and turned her eyes heavenward, internally wondering when this had become her life. Smiling, she shook her head and mused that she wouldn't want life any other way.

E/N: I love the signore, okay? He's based off my grandpa, who is quite awesome if I do say so myself. Also, Monopoly is not a game allowed anywhere near my relatives. Last time my cousins almost killed each other. It was awesome.