After All These Years Chapter 2, a supernatural fanfic

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Sam laughs for ten minutes straight when Dean tells him about Jo's unusual favor the next morning.

"Oh God, this is the best!" he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. "You and Jo, playing a cutesy couple? I'd pay good money to see that." He claps Dean's shoulder way too hard, making his brother almost topple over. "You should honestly consider taking some pictures. It would mean the world to me and my future blackmail material."

Dean pulls a face and slams one of his pancakes onto Sam's plate. "Remind me: Why did I invite your stupid face to breakfast again?"

Sam grins broadly. "Because it's Sunday and we always meet up on Sundays. And you love me."

"Not right now," Dean grumbles, although he's actually angrier with himself than with his baby brother. Sam's reaction isn't exactly surprising considering he's a teasing jerk more often than not and Dean actually intended to never bring up his conversation with Jo or at least avoid it as long as humanly possible, but all Sam had do was walking through the front door and asking, "What's up?" and Dean found himself blurting out the truth. He didn't even pause to catch a breath, it just set itself loose like a big, unstoppable waterfall.

"Oh, c'mon, it's funny," Sam says. "Just imagine it for a second here."

Dean shudders. "I don't wanna imagine it, thank you very much!"

Sam snickers. "Yeah, I get that it's probably not your favorite idea ever and you'd most likely rather scratch a lion's belly than go to a wedding pretending to be Jo's one true love." He leans a bit closer. "But think about Jo for a minute here. I bet she hated to ask you for help in that way. Being so dependent on you – it's probably her worst nightmare!"

Well, Dean's gotta confess he didn't look at it from that angle before now.

It's a bit rewarding, he's gotta confess.

But still …

"I don't really get her, man," Dean sighs. "I mean, I do understand why she doesn't wanna go alone to the wedding with that douchebag Ethan being around, but why would she choose me? I'm no one to brag about in front of some rich jerks."

Sam rolls his eyes. "Dean …"

"Oh, c'mon, you know it's true." He pokes his pancake with a fork, not feeling quite hungry right now. "I just barely finished high school and that's about it. I'm a mechanic at a friend's garage, I'm living in a simple apartment, I got an one night stand pregnant because of a faulty condom, I can't afford anything nice since caring for a child is like super expensive. I've got no money, no special education, nothing to show off except my beautiful daughter and my car." He quirks his head to one side, contemplating. "And my good looks. I guess those should be put on that list as well."

Sam eyes him with a hard glare. "You're really impossible sometimes," he grumbles.

Dean shrugs casually. "Hey, it's the truth."

"It's not the whole truth," Sam insists. "Yes, you are a mechanic. But Bobby doesn't let you work for him as a freaking favor or whatever. You are good at what you do, really good. For months now Bobby is talking about giving you the shop after his retirement and I know you think he's joking, but He. Is. Not. You're his best man and he wants to see the garage in good hands.

"And the reason why you're working as a mechanic in the first place? Let's talk about the fact that Dad was a shitty father and bailed on us more times than we can count and you decided to jump in. I was only able to afford to go to college because you worked your ass off. And now you won't even let me pay you back although I've got a well-paid job and everything."

Dean grits his teeth. "I don't want your money," he states. He never expected to be compensated financially after all those years he sacrificed for Sam going to Stanford and conquering the world. Sam should be able to enjoy his first pay checks, buy useless shit and have some fun.

"And Emma?" Sam heaves a deep sigh. "She is the best damned thing that happened to this family in a really long time. She is the luckiest girl alive for having you as her dad and everyone at this fucking wedding will see it! They're gonna be jealous of the life you lead and the people that love you."

For a moment Dean simply gapes, not exactly sure what the correct reaction should be to such a declaration first thing in the morning. In the end he goes with, "Jeez, you're getting really sappy and emotional without some coffee, huh?" because he always sucked at talking about the deep stuff.

Sam doesn't seem surprised by Dean's lack of enthusiastic response, but he doesn't look very happy about it either.

"I'm just saying that Jo knew exactly why she chose you above everyone else," he says.

"Yeah, because she doesn't know that many guys willing do this in the first place," Dean explains. "And because Ethan apparently was kinda jealous of me the whole time he dated Jo. He'd hate seeing us together now."

Sam shakes his head. "That's not the only reason."

He looks quite determined to examine the whole issue deeper and assure Dean over and over again what an awesome brother and person he is, going into excruciating details, but Dean is so not in the mood for something like this.

Perhaps in the next century, but definitely not now!

"Just leave it, man!" Dean pleads. "Let's talk about something else. Like the fact that you seem totally okay with me lying to a bunch of strangers."

Sam shrugs. "Like Jo said, it wouldn't be a complete lie. You love her, you're practically living together -"

"She's not living here, jeez -"

"And maybe it would do you some good to play happy little family for a while." Sam grins widely. "Perhaps you get a taste."

Dean grimaces. "A taste of what? Jo as my freaking girlfriend?"

Sam instantly shakes his head. "Oh God, no!" he objects. "I just meant … when was the last time you could introduce someone as your girlfriend to other people? It seems ages ago. I think you have forgotten what that feels like."

Dean couldn't exactly argue with that – the last time had been with Cassie and that ended before it even really began –, but he won't give Sam the satisfaction of agreeing. Instead he just pulls a face and grumbles. He can't imagine anything good coming out of this mess.

But his brother honestly looks like he wants to delve into the topic some more and get really serious really fast and Dean is so not down for that. Especially not over breakfast.

So he quickly changes the subject, mumbles, "I'm gonna wake up Emma," before Sam is even able to speak his mind and leaves the room as fast as possible, not giving a damn that he appears to be fleeing. Sam knows him way too much anyway, he's quite aware what's happening right in front of him.

A heavy, I-should-have-known-better-than-try-to-talk-with-my-emotionally-constipated-brother-about-feelings sigh follows Dean to the hallway and for a second he pauses, contemplating whether he should return to share some stupid feelings anyway, just to see the look of incredulous surprise on Sam's face, but his legs decide against that thought and lead him to Emma's room instead.

Where he immediately halts in the doorway, watching the scene in front of him with big eyes.

Because he's pretty sure he's just witnessing a miracle.

Emma's room is absolutely spotless and Dean remembers fairly well that this hasn't been the case last night. It actually was one of the points they argued about, making Emma stomp her feet more than once faced with the injustice of cleaning up her stuff. Dean hadn't been very successful in her seeing reason for taking up some responsibility yesterday and he actually dreaded to pick up their conversation in the course of today where they left it off the previous evening.

But now it seems like he doesn't have to anymore.

Huh.

Suddenly Emma appears right next to him, already clothed and combed and overall downright ready to face the day, and Dean finds himself staring dumbfounded at his daughter. Getting dressed in the morning has been one of their on-going struggles for months now and he's got actually no real idea how to deal with a well-behaved child for a change.

But here she stands, right in front of him, wearing the blue sweater Dean fell instantly in love with when he saw it on the rack at a mall's store a few months ago (a fact that Emma is very aware of) and beams at him like she's rivaling with the sun itself.

There is something fishy going on.

"Good morning, Daddy," she greets him cheerfully. "I love you."

Yeah, there is definitely something going on.

"I love you, too," he can't help replying anyway, before adding, "What do you want?"

Emma blinks, an expression of pure innocence on her features. "I am a good girl."

Dean's eyes roam over her beautiful room. "Yes, I can see that. But why?"

"Because you said so?"

And admittedly, that's true. Just last night he groaned that it would be nice of her if she would take care of her things once in a while.

But he actually didn't believe he got through to her. No, all he got in response was a temper tantrum and a refusal to hear a bedtime story.

So what changed?

"You're not mad anymore, right?" Emma's voice is very tiny all of sudden and Dean finds himself kneeling in front of her immediately without a second of hesitation.

"Oh, baby girl, I was never mad at you." He drops a kiss to her hairline and pulls her close. "I'm sorry if you thought that."

Sure, it got on his nerves that Emma turned absolutely everything into a fight recently and he might have raised his tone once or twice last night, trying to make a point and mostly failing in the face of his daughter's unique stubbornness, but he never intended to make her believe he was actually upset with her.

"Sometimes daddies have to get a bit strict when their little girls don't do what they ask them to do, you know?" he explains. "And it wasn't very nice of you to yell at me like that yesterday."

Emma grabs his shirt. "I know," she whispers. "I'm really sorry."

Dean smiles at her. "I know you are. But thank you for telling me."

He feels his heart swell feeling his wonderful daughter in his arms. It's not always easy and more often than not Dean can't help wondering whether he's doing a remotely decent job at being a freaking father, but moments like these make all of the hard stuff worthwhile. It doesn't really matter if he's feeling a bit overwhelmed sometimes or if he doubts himself on a regular basis, he's still the luckiest bastard on earth and beyond.

"I'm gonna be a good girl from now on," Emma promises solemnly while meeting his gaze, determination on her cute features.

Dean chuckles. "That's good to hear."

"And it's for you," she clarifies. "Not because of the horses." She pauses a moment before quirking her head to one side. "Okay, maybe a little bit."

Dean frowns. "What are you talking about?"

Emma bites her bottom lip and suddenly she looks all kinds of guilty again. "Don't be mad," she pleads.

And dammit, that voice. She could tell him right here and now that she stole a whole petting zoo the other day and hid it inside her closet and Dean would have been completely unable to feel any sort of anger. That girl has got way too much power over him.

"I got up last night," she tells him, whispering as though she's sharing a state secret. "I heard the bell. And I saw Jo."

Dean looks at her incredulously. He never thought she could be that stealthy because he seriously didn't notice her being there. Admittedly, Jo kept him very distracted after revealing her crazy plan, but –

"Oh, the horses," he finally realizes. "You mean the horses at the wedding?"

Of course she heard that. There is no way out of this now.

Emma starts to fidget. "I wanna see horses. I've never seen horses before. And the wedding … will there be a princess?"

The excitement in her voice is clear as a bell and Dean just knows that he lost already. He maybe would have been able to fend off Jo and her insistence – a big, fat maybe –, but if Emma would start to join in as well?

Dammit, Dean isn't that strong. Probably no one is.

"You don't need to be a princess to have a wedding, you know?" Dean explains. "I mean, Uncle Benny and Aunt Andrea got married last year, remember? And neither of them is of royal blood."

Emma frowns. "I know," she says, the duh apparently heavily implied. "But they had no horses."

Dean can't really argue with that. "Yeah, you got me there."

"So, please, can we go then?" Suddenly Dean is confronted with a serious case of puppy dogs eyes, so powerful and mighty that they should have been declared illegal. "You will be the bestest dad ever! I mean, you already are, but then you would be even more bestier."

Dean can't help chuckling. "More bestier, huh?"

Emma nods enthusiastically and almost leaps into his arms. "Yes! You will be Super-Dad!" She grins, clearly proud of herself, before she apparently remembers who she's talking to. "No, you will be Bat-Dad!"

For Heaven's sake, even Bat-Dad? That sounds like the promotion of the freaking century!

How is he supposed to resist?

Jeez, there is seriously no getting out of this now.

Nonetheless he tries his hardest not to crumble right here on the spot (because that would have been highly embarrassing and Sam wouldn't have stopped laughing at him for the next years to come). Instead he ruffles Emma's hair and says, "How about we eat breakfast first before making any plans, okay? Uncle Sammy is here and very eager to see you."

By the way Emma's face lights up immediately it's more than clear that she totally forgot it's Sunday already. "Uncle Sammy!" she squeals excitedly, looking so gleeful as if she hadn't seen her uncle in ages.

"Right, Uncle Sammy," Dean chuckles. "Let's say hello, huh?"

"Yes!" she agrees wholeheartedly, jumping up and down. "I'm gonna tell him of the horses!"

And then she rushes out of the room, calling for her uncle, and Dean finds himself shaking his head and sighing deeply.

He's officially screwed.

0-0-0

"What do you think? White or egg-shell?"

Gabriel stares at a website right in front of him, grimacing as if it physically pains him to even ask a question like that.

And Castiel can't exactly blame him. He never imagined to hear such words coming out of his brother's mouth. At least while talking about table cloths and not about something filthy and fairly illegal, like he normally does.

It's kind of scary, to be honest.

But since the moment Kali accepted his proposal and they set a date, Gabriel turned into a human being Castiel barely recognizes. Gabriel is usually childish at best and reckless at worst, but somehow his eagerness to make this into the most perfect wedding ever erased part of his personality for the time being and replaced it instead with an efficient and responsible adult.

Even Kali doesn't seem that invested in their wedding's details (at least Castiel is unable to picture her contemplating the issue of table cloths more than five seconds), however, for some reason Gabriel is determined to overlook absolutely everything and get the show on the road, as he always uses to say.

Castiel guesses that he's rather just really terrified that Kali would blame him if anything would go wrong than actually concerned about the exact flower arrangements, but at the same time he can't shake the feeling that Gabriel is doing it for himself as well. Constantly joking about "the fairy tale wedding he always dreamed about", letting it sound like mockery, while never noticing the slight hitch in his breath, making it more than obvious that he's kind of deluding the people around him and probably himself, too.

Castiel would almost call it endearing.

Almost.

In the end, it's still Gabriel they're talking about.

"I can help you with the work load a bit," Castiel offers, lowering the book in his hand and eyeing his brother. "You don't have to do all by yourself."

"I know that." Gabriel huffs. "That's why I hired a wedding planner, remember? Expensive as fuck, but she knows what she's doing."

Castiel scoffs. "I remember your wedding planer quite well, thank you very much." How the hell could he forget that tiny and yet so loud person who dragged him to a tuxedo fitting a few days ago, groping him in such a professional and clinical way to make the outfit sit tight that he couldn't help blushing the whole time? "But still, there are a lot of things to decide. I could help you with that."

Gabriel, however, waves him off. "It's not that much anymore anyway," he counters. "Your real job starts at the wedding. I need my best man there."

Castiel had been quite touched when Gabriel asked him to be the best man, more or less out of the blue. It's not like Castiel is the only option in their extended patchwork family and he's sure as hell not the most popular one. Until that point Castiel actually always thought that Gabriel simply tolerated his presence and endured his existence, interrupted by a few bursts of familial love and support.

Obviously he had been wrong.

"You need to keep a clear head since I will be an utter mess those few days," Gabriel states. "You have to be my rock."

"Who is not allowed to organize your bachelor party," Castiel repeats dutifully for the hundredth time in the last couple of months.

"I love you, Cassie, you know that, but your idea of fun is sitting in a dark corner all night, reading some short stories by dudes long dead." Gabriel pulls a face as if the mere thought is giving him a headache. "Let Balthazar handle the fun. You can deal with the adult stuff."

Castiel rolls his eyes. "Whatever you say."

It's not like he's keen on organizing such an event anyway. Gabriel is absolutely right, their idea of a good time is way too different and in the end it would have been awkward for everyone involved. It's probably for the best if Castiel stays out of party planning completely.

"I actually already have a specific job for you lined up and you have to take it very seriously," Gabriel urges, raising a hand to get his brother's full attention. "And I mean it. My on-going existence is depending on it."

Castiel rises a brow. That's the first time he hears of that. "What do you mean?"

"Most guests will arrive Friday or Saturday, as you know," Gabriel says. "But some are gonna be there a bit earlier. And your focus should rest on Jo Harvelle."

Castiel vaguely recalls the blonde woman he met a few weeks ago at some kind of gathering. He didn't interact much with her, but he certainly didn't miss her close connection to Kali.

"You want me to welcome her properly because you're afraid Kali would kill you otherwise, am I right?" he assumes, suppressing a deep sigh.

"You know Kali doesn't have a lot of girl friends." Gabriel shuts his laptop, obviously frustrated by all the different kinds of table cloths. "Most women are intimidated by her, for obvious reasons, but Jo – well, she's different. They just clicked." He shrugs as though the process of female bonding is a mystery to him. "And I can't have Jo feeling bored or ignored at any time, do you hear me?"

Jo is one of the bridesmaids and Castiel can't imagine her suffering from a lack of entertainment, but he nods anyway. It's not like he's in any position to contradict the groom at this point.

"And, more importantly, you have to take care of her hubby," Gabriel emphasizes, sounding quite serious. "Jo will indeed be very busy herself and I don't want her boyfriend or husband or whatever have any reason to complain afterwards, do you hear me? According to Kali Jo and that guy are very tight and super serious, so don't take your eyes off him."

It sounds a bit like he's supposed to play babysitter and Castiel can't say he appreciates the picture. Nonetheless he asks, "What's the man's name?"

"No idea." Gabriel snorts. "Dan or Douglas or something like that. It starts with a 'D', that's all I remember. And he's bringing a little girl along as well."

Castiel feels the corners of his mouth turn downward. He's never been good with kids.

"Don't freak out," Gabriel says, knowing his brother perfectly well. "Just … take care of the guy, alright? I don't want him to feel bored or neglected. Stay at his side, make sure he's got the time of his life and use your unique charm to wrap him around your finger. Make him fall in fucking love with you!" He laughs out loud, but halts only a second later and quickly adds, "No, wait, don't do the last part. Jo and Kali would murder me."

Castiel shakes his head and sighs deeply. As if something like that would ever happen anyway. "Don't worry, I will do my best to not make Dan or Douglas or whoever fall in love with me."

Gabriel starts to laugh again and his whole body seems to be less strained all of sudden. "Promise?" he mocks.

Castiel can't keep himself from smiling back. "Promise."