Hello dear readers. I have good news and bad news. The good news is that in today's chapter we get to hear (albeit briefly) from another beloved member of TFW. The bad news is that with this chapter, I will have posted everything I have completed so far. Now, I have a very clear picture of where I am going with this story and I will never abandon it, but I'm a fairly slow writer, so I will beg for your patience. I have 4 or 5 more chapters planned and I will do my best to get a chapter written in time to post each week. Meanwhile, I have to thank OldGirl-NoraArlani, sjwmaw, Kathy, Shadowhuntingdauntlessdemigod and MichelleAKF for their kind reviews.
"Tell me again why we have to wear these?," Dean whined, poking at the t-shirt on his bed.
"Because Fiona asked us to. Apparently it's some kind of tradition - some photo thing they do every year." Sam placed his own shirt aside neatly since they weren't needed until this afternoon. Dean gave him a sour look as he dug through his duffle for some clean socks. He'd gone to bed early last night, pleading a headache from the wood smoke. Which was a total lie. Dean had been burning bones, among other things, for decades. A little smoke didn't faze a hunter. But, before he could go check on Dean last night, Sam had gotten drawn into a long conversation with April who had also attended Stanford and wanted to compare notes about it. Then Fiona had pulled him aside and given him the shirts with instructions to wear them this afternoon. By the time he was able to say good night and come up to bed, his brother was asleep. Or at least faking it in such a way that Sam knew better than to try and get him to talk.
"Great, just what I need; photo evidence of looking like a dork." Although Dean was always a bit grouchy until he'd had coffee, this was something different. He would pretend to bitch and complain so that he could hide how insecure he was feeling. Normally Sam found it best to ignore it and let his brother get it out of his system, so he just shrugged at Dean this morning. He didn't want the last day before his brother left to be spent sniping at each other. Besides, Sam wanted a few minutes to himself, so he took his time getting dressed and packing up his shaving kit, watching Dean wander around the small room, getting more and more impatient. Right on schedule, Dean huffed in irritation.
"Jesus, Sam. Get the lead out! I'm dying for some coffee here."
"So go already. I'm sure there's a pot ready in the kitchen. I'll be down in a few minutes." Sam said leisurely as he pulled on his socks.
"Fine, but I'm not saving you any," Dean threatened with a pout as he stamped out of the room. Sam shook his head with affection. Hopefully Dean would feel better after a shot of caffeine. He waited until he heard the creak of his brother's footsteps going down stairs, then pulled out his phone and dialed Cas. The call connected on the second ring.
"Hello Sam," the angel answered with his usual deep rumble.
"Hey Cas, how are you feeling?" Sam regretted that he had kind of ignored their friend in the midst of everything that had been going on.
"I'm functioning adequately. Is there something you need?" When Sam didn't answer right away, he continued. "Is there something wrong? Are you okay?" Cas sounded truly concerned so Sam was quick to reassure him.
"No, no. We're fine - we're good." Now that he had the angel on the phone, Sam wasn't sure what to say. There was a long pause as he struggled to find the words. How do you say goodbye to someone who's a part of your family? Cas had been through so much with them; this was harder than Sam expected.
"Sam? Is everything alright with your son?" Great, now he was really making Cas worry. At the same time, thinking about Jonathan put a smile on Sam's face and loosened his tongue.
"Actually Cas, he's amazing. He's such a good kid, funny, smart and kind. Dean says he looks like I did at that age." Sam knew he was gushing a bit, but his friend seemed content to just listen now that he knew they were safe.
"Well, you are his father, are you not?" Cas was matter-of-fact like always, but his usual rumble had softened somewhat and Sam found himself unexpectedly cracking open and spilling his thoughts.
"That's the thing. Last night, he um, he called me Daddy." Just thinking about it made Sam flush and his heart pound like it was about to burst. "All this time, I had a son and I didn't even know it. I've missed so much of his life so far, but now I'm here and I've gotten to know him a bit. He's remarkable, Cas. And it's crazy! When I'm around him, I'm excited and sad, terrified and happy all at the same time." The feeling was so much bigger than words could describe.
"I expect it's overwhelming to find yourself as a parent so unexpectedly." Cas' words made sense, but there was more to it. He could feel Cas waiting for him to continue, infinitely patient as he so often was with tangled human emotions.
"It's just...I just don't want to be like my Dad, I want to be a part of Jonathan's life and keep him safe. But I can't do that and still be a hunter." He trailed off. Damn, this was harder than he thought.
"So what what are you saying, Sam?" Even though there was no judgement in his words, Sam couldn't stop another wave of guilt from washing over him. God, he was making a mess of this. Sam dragged a hand down his face and forced himself to take and release a deep breath.
"I guess it means that… that, I'm going to stay here and try to be Johnny's father full time. It mean's I'm calling to say goodbye." The pronouncement hung heavy in the air. A million little memories of Castiel rushed to the forefront of his mind. His terrible sense of humour, his love of bees, the sweet, fumbling attempts at friendship, times they had fought side by side, and how Cas had saved him from agony and certain death more than once. Cas was like a brother, and he owed his friend so much, - more than he could ever possibly repay - and now he was leaving him behind.
"I'm sorry, I uh, I know that there's a lot going on. Releasing the Darkness is my fault, and Rowena's in the wind, and we haven't found Metatron yet and you...you're not at 100% and..." Cas gently cut off Sam's rambling.
"Sam. There is no need to apologize. You should be there for your son. I'm happy for you." Tears of gratitude sprung to his eyes at Cas' affirmation and he had to clear the lump that clogged his throat before continuing.
"Thanks Cas. Look, uh Dean's been really supportive about this, but with me tapping out he's gonna…he's…" Words escaped him again. "I just...I just need you to look out for him, okay?" He was very close to begging. The idea that he had rescued his brother from the Mark of Cain only to abandon him was agonizing. It was Dean's worst fear and Sam didn't want him to be alone. He needed Dean to be okay.
"Of course, Sam." The solid rumble of Castiel's voice was comforting, but bittersweet. If Dean had killed Cas, Sam didn't think there would have been anything left of his brother to save. He'd come so close to losing both of then to the Mark of Cain.
"And, and look out for yourself too, Cas," he said, his voice choked with a suppressed sob and he felt a tear roll down his cheek. He smeared it away with the back of his hand and cleared this throat again.
"I will." Cas was the best friend he and Dean had ever had, but Sam knew that if he didn't get off the phone now, he was going to break down completely and embarrass them both. He puffed out a rough breath and tried to make his voice steady.
"Okay, well I gotta go. Thank you for everything. Goodbye, Cas." He heard the angel's farewell before he disconnected the call. Sinking down on the bed, he dashed the moisture from his eyes with his fingertips. His heart was heavy and part of him wanted to crawl back under the covers and avoid the world like a little kid. Of course if he did, Dean would come looking for him and Sam didn't want to worry his brother. Instead, he sat for a few moments and let a few tears fall, before he wiped his eyes, pulled himself together, and made his way downstairs.
xxxxxxx
Dean followed his nose, the smell of fresh coffee leading him straight to the kitchen and the siren call of caffeine. It was pretty early, but he found he wasn't alone in the comfortable room. Colin was sitting at the table reading, his own cup of joe nearby. Fiona was putting a plate in front of Jonathan who was sitting across from his uncle. Sebastian was precariously propped up next to Johnny's juice glass and the little guy was deep in discussion with his elephant friend as he nibbled some toast.
Aunt Kathy was puttering at the counter behind the large island, hands busy with one of the many jobs that was keeping the large family fed. She gave him a smile, but it was Fiona who slid a mug in front of him as he leaned over, elbows on the island worktop.
"Feeling better this morning?" she asked as she filled his cup from the coffee pot. Dean blanked for a second before remembering his excuse from last night.
"Oh, uh yeah. Thanks." He didn't want to be rude, but he couldn't be expected to string together full sentences before he had caffeine in his system. She silently offered him some sugar or cream, but he shook his head and took his first hot, restorative sip. Thankfully she left him to his coffee, joining Aunt Kathy at work. Idly he watched as she chopped up something, her knife rhythmically thudding against the wooden cutting board.
He hadn't heard anyone enter the room, but his finely honed senses felt someone close behind him. Spinning, he moved out of the way before Sharron was able to abort her movement. Her hand slapped air where his ass had been moments before and she had the audacity to grin at him.
"Nice jeans, Dean," she smirked and waggled her eyebrows, so over the top that he had to blurt out a laugh.
"Sharron!" Colin scolded his wife, although there was no real heat in his tone. In fact he seemed to take it in stride.
"Sorry Dean, she's completely incorrigible," Colin complained mildly. Dean lifted his mug in acknowledgement, amused rather than offended. Sharron in some ways reminded him of Sheriff Donna Hanscum. She shared the same irreverent sense of humour, and positive energy as the blonde officer. Of course Sharron was a lot more handsy, but it was offset with a loving personality that shone through in everything she did for her husband and the extended family.
"You'd think she doesn't love me anymore," Colin whined with an expression of mock hurt. Sharron bent over and gave him a long and thorough kiss, caressing her husband's shoulder with affection.
"Hey, you know I love and adore you, Honey" she said as she broke away and sashayed out of his reach. "But just because I'm on a diet, doesn't mean I can't look at the menu!" Sharron's good-natured laughter chimed through the air, contagious as she went behind the island to fill her own mug. Dean could only join in with her, secretly gratified by the attention, and pleased that he was included in what was obviously routine family banter. Fiona who by this time had moved away from the counter rolled her eyes at her sister in law.
"Try to ignore her Dean, I swear the rest of us know how to behave." He gave her a smile and realized that, despite his anxiety about leaving Sam, his bad mood had evaporated. Fiona wiped Johnny's face as she spoke and took his plate to the sink.
Just then Sam walked into the room and Dean's big brother radar pinged. It was subtle, but Sammy looked like he'd been crying, his smile was a little too fixed and the "good morning" he offered the room was a touch too hearty to be genuine. Of course what really gave it away was that his brother purposely avoided looking his way. It was classic Sam - upset but determined to hide it. Sammy would kill him if he asked what was bothering him in front of everyone, so Dean held his tongue. He could bide his time and would find out later in private what had ruffled his brother so badly in the 15 minutes they'd been apart.
Slowly more of the family straggled into the kitchen looking for coffee and company. With so many people now in the room, the chatter grew and the noise started to make Dean itchy. So when Fiona took a tray of foil wrapped breakfast sandwiches out of the oven and passed them around, Dean took one and escaped out onto the porch to eat. He was halfway through his bacon, egg and cheese sandwich when Sam sat down beside him.
"I brought you another coffee," Sam said as he set a mug down on the top step. Dean ignored the kind gesture for now and simply looked expectantly at his brother. It only took a minute before Sammy glanced away. "I'm fine Dean," he said before taking a bite of his own breakfast.
"Uh, huh." Dean scoffed, refusing to be deterred until Sam once again met his eyes briefly. The kid tilted his head so that his hair covered his expression, but Sam picked at the wrapping on his sandwich for a moment before sighing softly.
"I called Cas, okay?" Of course it was okay, but Dean was still puzzled as to why Sammy had been crying. "I let him know that I was staying and I...I told him goodbye." Sam's voice cracked softly on that last part. Ah, that explained it. He'd been so consumed with his own upcoming loss, Dean had almost forgot about their friend. But Sam obviously hadn't. All last year, Cas had been the only real ally that Sam had had, and thank goodness that the angel had been there. He shied away from a certain memory that sprang to mind. His shame and guilt were not going to tarnish today. Figuring it was time to cut Sam a break, Dean took a loud, annoying slurp from his mug. Beside him Sam rolled his eyes as he always did when Dean teased him, and relaxed enough to begin to make progress on his own breakfast. They sat and chewed amiably, and Dean was glad that his last day with his brother wasn't going to be full of tension.