A/N: There you go! We're finally at the end of the road. Thanks to all those who have supported me and stayed with me, till the world stopped turning and the storm was through. All those fav.s, follows and reviews meant a lot... kept feeding my ego right on till the end.

Aliniah, Bearberry, Casismyfavorite and Grim1989 - I just want to stay, you have no idea how good it felt to write for you. So I'm kinda dedicating this chapter to you.

Epilogue

"I'm dreaming... of a white Christmas
Just like the ones I used to know...
Where the treetops glisten, and children listen
To hear sleigh bells in the snow..."

Dean Martin Winchester took a long long sip of his bourbon and licked his lips clean, not taking eyes off the tantalizing movements of the narrow shapely ass, moving to the soft low rhythm of his namesake's classic Christmas song. The golden drink travelled all the down from his throat down to his stomach, warming his insides...

Presently, the movements stopped as the owner turned around, presenting him with a well-endowed tent in the faded denims. "What are you staring at?" the tone was half-heartedly rebuking.

"Your ass," Dean replied cheekily, finishing his drink in one last gulp. Green eyes caught the amused blue ones through the crystal of his glass sparkling in the glow of crackling flames. "Com'ere," he added in a deep voice.

The man grinned and walked closer, bending down to peck his husband lightly on the lips. Dean circled his arms around the brunette, his glass pressed into the small of the other's back, the free hand entangled in the dark hair, and pulled him closer, opening his mouth in invitation.

The brunette compiled, slipping down on his knees, holding the handle bars, and deepening the kiss. The angle was very awkward and the balance precarious, but after 7 years of marriage, it was as normal to them as breathing. Dean pulled back, panting slightly, and smiled. "Hi."

The red lips grinned, as the pale forehead pressed into the tan one. "Hey."

"God, Cas," Dean replied, pressing the lips to peck softly. "I missed you."

Cas harrumphed. "Married people with children…" he mumbled, reluctantly standing up and taking the glass away "…have no sex life to boast of. We had been warned about that."

Dean grinned. "Speaking of… she's asleep. You wanna…" the remaining were cut of by the lips crashing into his, as he suddenly found himself collapsing on top of his husband, their tongues meeting in a frantic dance of dominance.

"Wouldn't… wiser… bedroom…" Cas' whispered words were punctuated with kisses, as Dean snaked a hand between them, somehow managing to pull down his fly, and reaching inside his boxers.

"No… time…" Dean muttered, giving a particularly hard jerk to his cock. Cas gasped, it had been far too long… "Need you Cas… now…" the last word was a pleading, that almost broke Cas' resolve. Almost.

"Bed," Cas repeated, pushing Dean off. "Can't risk Emma walking in."

Dean groaned in disappointment and pulled his hand back. "Alright," he mumbled, pressing one last kiss into his husband's lips, and rolled onto his back, breathing heavily, as Cas reached down and pulled his fly up.

Not a moment too soon, as a little figure in bright red shoulder length curls wearing a pale pink night-gown appeared in the kitchen doorway, sleepily rubbing her eyes.

"Muhm, iz Uncuh Ash he'e ye'?" the tiny sleepy voice asked, ambling towards Cas.

"Uncle Ash?" Cas asked incredulously as he stood and scooped his daughter up. Beside him Dean banged his head on the handle of his wheelchair, then pulled himself up.

"Yea," Emma mumbled, her arms circling her "mum's" neck. "El sayhed he dhresh az a big fa' ma'hn in reh dhresh an' leev prezen unduh de giftin' trhee," she explained sincerely. "Iz he he'e wi' my prezen?"

"He won't come until midnight, sweetheart," Cas replied, patting down the red curls. "You can go back to sleep… I'll tell you when he comes."

"Nuh…uh," the negative reply was punctuated by a definite shake of her head. "El sayhed I 'ave to stay up and wai' fo him o' he won' geev my prezen… and ea' all de cookiez," was added in a sacrilegious whisper.

Fucking Elliot Porter, Cas thought, always making my life difficult, as Dean snorted – Cas glared at him over their daughter's head – then extended his arms indicating he wanted her.

"I promise I won't let him eat the cookies," Cas stuck his tongue out at Dean when she burrowed in further into his shoulder. It had been almost a year since Emma had become a permanent in their lives, but they still couldn't get enough of her. "And we already have other presents under the tree. Why don't you open one of them, then go back to bed?" he offered. "You can collect your gift from Uncle Ash tomorrow."

Emma pulled back and blinked at him, as if trying to make sense of his words, then pressed her head into his neck again and nodded.

"Excellent," Cas breathed, as he carefully eased the five year old into his husband's lap, where she promptly curled up, back against one of the arm-rests, feet pushing into the other, one hand securely fisting into his shirt. "You both go ahead, I'll make some hot chocolate for us." He bent down to kiss his Princess' forehead, then followed it up with one to his King. "Go forth, my mighty warrior," he waved dramatically, as Dean turned around, mock saluted his Queen, and he spurred his silver stallion towards the Gifting Tree.

Cas smiled after them, put milk to boil and went back to clearing the kitchen, wondering if there could be such a thing as too much Elliot Porter.

It was a few days before Christmas two years ago, that the topic of starting a family first came up. In a rare occasion, everyone had flocked over to Sioux Falls for the holidays – Sam with his family, Celine and the kids, Claire with her husband, Alf, and their one-year old, Jason. Even Adam had taken a few days off to come down, much to Cas' joy.

After their less than amicable break-up – Claire had left him for her childhood best friend – Adam had started pushing himself into his work, distancing from everyone else, not comfortable with the general idea of being around his "lying, cheating bitch" of an ex. This had inadvertently put a strain on Dean and Cas' relationship, until finally Adam had taken the high road and extended a tentative olive branch towards both Claire and Alfie. And a few days ago, he informed them that he had started seeing a fellow resident, Rebecca Flannigan, but it was far too early to introduce her to the family just yet.

They were all sitting in the Roadhouse drinking beer and bullshitting, while the children played outside, when Mark – Jo's idiot boyfriend whom Dean hated on principle because he was a Campbell – offhandedly commented about lack of Dean's children in the group. Dean initially ignored the comment because it was Mark Campbell who said it, but this was the first time in almost five years that he saw the look of longing on Cas' face.

"You think we are ready?" Cas asked that night, tracing patterns on his chest.

Dean looked at him. Cas had finished with his Nursing Degree last year and his internship at the Sioux Falls General was almost over. They had even offered him a permanent position. And with Bobby planning to hand over the reigns to Dean, to become a grouchy old drunk and scream at kids from his front porch, Dean was free to become a "Work-from-Home Dad" if needed. Besides, all the cousins were at an age where they would easily adjust to a new addition in the family. The more he thought about it, the more sure he was. "I think we are," he smiled.

"Oh? Good. I was uh… thinking…" Cas stuttered unsurely, "that we could… uh… match your sperms with... um… Claire's eggs… Carmen offered to uh… surrogate…"

"No," Dean cut in firmly. Cas looked at him confused. "But I thought…"

"I do want kids," Dean said, "but we both know you've always wanted to adopt someone from the foster care. Did someone put you up to this?"

"No… I uh... thought…" he deflated and relaxed in his husband's arms. "I do want to adopt a kid. There are so many out there who need parents…"

Dean nodded and cut him off with a kiss. "We'll talk about it tomorrow," he finished with a promise.

-x-x-x-

Few days later, in the first week of the promising New Year, Cas them signed up for the "Adoption PRIDE (Parent Resources for Information, Development and Education)" at his hospital. Dean grumbled at first, saying they didn't need tips in parenting, they had more than enough on-hands experience than half the idiots who sprouted those kids, but Cas insisted it was a necessity. So he went.

What followed was about six months of orientations, interviews, meetings with social workers – the one assigned to them, Cassie, happened to be one of Dean's exes – visits from all kinds of officers who wanted to ensure they were capable of raising children.

They had some doubts about the background checks, as criminal records of immediate family members were also taken into consideration. But since the criminal side of Cas' family were all dead – Balthazar was really glad, for once, that he wasn't related to Cas' by blood – it wouldn't really matter they were assured.

What followed was an ardent wait to be matched with a child. "If there's a time to abuse your unwanted status as a celebrity," Balthazar teased, "this is it". But it was slow, uphill battle. Most orphanages prioritized straight couples, as opposed to single gay men – they had been informed that couldn't adopt as a couple, so Cassie had suggested that Castiel adopt the kid first, then Dean could file for a second parent adoption. It raised some hackles, but…

"That's how it's done. No one's going to change the law for you," Cassie snapped.

-x-x-x-

It was Sheriff Jody who first brought their attention to Emma, when she escorted a mute 4-year old to the hospital for her regular check-up. She waited outside with Cas, who was on break at the time, while an elderly nurse, Esther, took the girl inside.

The violent screams coming from the room had them running towards it, only to find the kid on the floor, in her underwear, screaming for all she was worth, while Esther stood aghast clutching at the tiny dress. Further inspection, this time after sedating her, showed that she was covered multitude of scars – fading cuts and bruises, burn marks, healed scratches. She also had a sigil branded into her left forearm, that had Cas ranting and raving for days afterwards.

Her story was simple really. They were informed "in strictest confidence, of course, because I trust you", that Emma's mother had been a part of a high profile sex trafficking/extortion ring working out of Seattle, with a couple of murders to her name - currently in serving 30 to Life in WCC - and Emma had been placed in Sioux Falls as a part of WitSec along with a few other rescuees.

It had taken exactly five hours, about the time it took for the sedatives to wear off, for Cas to fall in love with her and Dean the next day, when they visited her at the orphanage she was currently staying in.

It was Dean who figured out that the girl was haphephobic (phobia of being touched) – understandable, since she was severely abused and hence, naturally apprehensive – and extremely terrified of women, esp. the older ones. That mystery was solved when Ash identified the sigil (broke into the 6 different Fed databases and hunted through 40 years worth of info) as a symbol of a Greek-Orthodox feminist convent that had headed the Ring. All the evidences pointed to the fact that Emma was in fact tortured by matronly women, and as such the court appointed psychiatrist assessing her recommended that "for the bettering of her mental health, it will be beneficial for the child to be raised in a women-free environment… at least for the time being" albeit in a lot more complicated words that Dean would've cared less for.

It was Cassie – Dean still takes credit for this because she was his girlfriend first – who convinced others to consider them as an option. "They are two gay guys married to each other. And c'mon! It's the Winchesters... we know them. They are more capable of dealing with this level of PTSD than any professional in the area."

Even then, it had taken a few months of convincing and pleading, meeting with social workers, court hearings, and pointing out the utter incompetence of court allotted psycho-therapists, which Cas was more than happy to do (possibly even looked forward to), to decide that for it would be in best interests of the girl to be sent to the Winchester household.

The major bone of contention… or rather the only bone of contention… while filling her papers was her name. She had been given the name "Emma" by the DoJ, and they both hated it. Since she was too young, and not really used to it, it was decided that they would change it. And therein lay the problem – Cas wanted Gabriella in honour of Gabe and Dean wanted Merida because of her untamable fiery red hair.

"What's with your obsession of Disney princesses?" Cas had yelled, while Dean cribbed about "She's a kid, not a mausoleum. Don't we have enough kids named after dead people already?"

Finally, after much argument where both refused to back down, and two weeks of sleeping in different rooms, Ellen suggested a compromise and thus, Emma Gabriella Merida Novak-Winchester was welcomed as the newest member of the Novak-Winchester clan.

-x-x-x—x-x-x-

The first few months were a constant hell for them, with Emma refusing to eat or even sleep. She was mute outside of terrified screams when someone came too close to her – the only exception being Dean because he stayed with her the whole day.

The first time she came to Cas by herself, 3 months after they got her home, on his day off, when he fell asleep on the living room couch, a book in his lap and TV blasting in the front, and woke to find a very sleepy redhead – who he had tucked in bed not half an hour ago – trying to climb into his lap, he cried, "like a little girl" as Dean teased him later.

After that Dean moved back in their bedroom – he had taken to sleeping with her because she woke up during the nights, screaming… scared out of her mind – and brought her to bed with them.

The other exception was Elliot Porter who she took to like tick to a warm hide, attaching herself firmly to the older girl's belt and following her blindly. The fact that she didn't talk was perfectly fine with Elliot who more than made up the difference with her constant chattering.

"If I didn't know my daughter better," Carmen once said rocking her newborn, Jack, to sleep, "I'd say that they were in danger of becoming the next generation WinCollins."

They had to agree. Elliot was doing a way better of job of getting their daughter out of her shell… even going to the extent of sitting for her weekend sign language tutorials and making all her friends learn it in case Emma wanted to talk. And Emma was beginning to show definite signs of improvement – her cheeks had taken colour, and she looked healthier and stronger, and suffered considerably less nightmares. On good days, which were happening in increasing frequency, she even slept by herself, giving her fathers the much missed (and appreciated) privacy.

-x-x-x-

But wasn't until about 8 months after Emma moved in with them, on Elliot's seventh birthday, that they knew the things had finally changed for the best.

The day started off just like any other. Elliot went to her school and Cas went to the hospital, while Emma sat through four hours of therapy and tutoring and Dean paid a visit to the garage, then went grocery shopping. Then they had a bath and ate microwaved lunch – Cas cooked before leaving – veg lasagna, because Emma refused to eat anything else, and sat down to watch Brave (her favourite movie, because the princess looked just like her) yet again, before their afternoon nap.

Elliot's party was held at Roadhouse, like always, and the brunette in pink dress was leading her charge all over the place greeting her school friends and their parents, accepting gifts and thanking them while Emma stuck close behind, mumbling and nodding, trying to keep up with the chatter and chatterer.

That's pretty much how it was until Ellen brought out the birthday cake. The guests gathered around whistling and cheering, drowning out the silent protests of one tiny ginger who had left her place unbeknowst to anyone else. Elliot made a wish and blew out the candle, making a cut into her cake and dislodging a huge piece to feed her mother, when a small panicked voice cut through the birthday anthem.

"Nho… nho… nho cahke. Don' geev he' de cahke… Don' geev he' de cahke…" it took about 3 minutes of searching to identify the voice as coming from the tiny redhead huddled under the table as if waiting for an explosion to go off. "De cake ees cu'sed. Tu'ns you into a bayuh." Pretty much every one gaped in shock as Cas reached in and pulled out his party pooper of a daughter, looking as deliriously happy as someone whose daughter's first words are "no cake" can be.

That was the end of celebration as Elliot refused to touch anything that was deemed cursed by her loyal sidekick, instead skipping around proudly yelling "no cake… no cake…" for all she was worth.

.

It was later discovered that Elliot had known Emma had started talking a couple of weeks ago and had goaded her into keeping the secret until the party, so everyone could find out at the same time. She was also the one who had explained to Emma that Ellen was about as harmless as the good-natured but incompetent witch from her movie and so there was no need to be afraid of her. That coupled with the knowledge that Ellen had made a cake especially for this event, and Emma had somehow filled the remaining dots and dashes to voice her protests out aloud.

And once she started, there was no stopping her. Emma talked about anything and everything, surpassing even Elliot because she could fill the gaps when she stopped to take her breaths with her hands and vice versa.

"She's making up for the lost time," Dean proudly replied, whenever someone asked how they could handle the redheaded whirlwind.

-x-x-x-

Not that anyone was complaining. They were just happy that she was not hiding anymore… but often times Cas questioned his sanity for letting Lani MacKenzie's birdbrained daughter have a free reign over his princess.

The first time he felt that way was when Emma started calling him "mum".

They had decided beforehand that Dean could be "dad" and he would be "papa" or something… but she insisted that he was 'mum'. "Papa," he corrected signing the word "father", but she ignored it to repeat "mother".

"Let it be, Cas," Dean replied, looking up from the books he was balancing. "I think she's just doing it to differentiate between us."

"Yeah, well why can't you be the mother then?" Cas snapped, followed by a silent "bloody fucking sexual chauvinist".

"Because you're prettier of two," Dean smirked and laughed at the bird Cas flipped him (in full view of their daughter) and even more when she thoughtlessly repeated it, much to Cas' horror.

But it wasn't until a couple of weeks later, when her therapist Dr. Naomi threw him out, again, for interfering with her methods, that he finally understood why.

"Stop acting like a fucking Mother Bear on PMS," the woman snapped, shoving him out the door - she was surprisingly strong for someone that old or that small – while Emma gave him an apologetic but "told you so" smile.

"Mother Bear," he sighed that night. "She calls me mum because she thinks I'm the… you knew, didn't you?" he added accusingly when Dean broke into a wheezing laugh.

"Well, duh…" Dean replied. "She's Merida and I'm the King Fer-gus, obviously…"

"Obviously," Cas repeated dumbstruck.

"…with my wooden leg and my silver steed…" Dean continued, not bothered about the interruption. "But Emma was pretty confused as to how you fit in, so Elliot made her understand that since you are married to the King, you had to be the Queen."

"Yeah, I'll show you just how queen-y I can be," Cas said petulantly.

"Plus you are a disciplinarian and we are all a little scarred of you," Dean said, though it sounded like it was taking a great effort to not laugh. "And of course, you turn into a Bear at the slightest notice. She's just trying to say," he added softly, taking Cas' face into his hands to look him in the eyes, "that she loves you more than she lets on."

That caused Cas to smile and he didn't bother correcting her after that, but he decided that he was going to keep an eye on Elliot Porter and make sure she didn't feed his daughter any more ridiculous theories.

Well... at least Elliot hasn't gotten around to watching Rise of the Guardians yet, he thought adding the chocolate, honey and cinnamon to the boiling milk. Coz that would be a recipe for disaster.

"Hey mum, you gonna join us before the night is over?" Dean called from the living room, accompanied by a very loud tearing of wrapping paper. "Because we are going through the presents faster than a freight train."

"Good," Cas shouted back. "That way everyone will be too busy to notice that I drank all the hot chocolate" and 5…4…3…2…

"Nhooooo" a scream erupted, as a panicked little girl ran into the kitchen, looking more awake than someone who was practically dropping off to sleep not 15 mins ago had a right to. "You can'. I wanna ho' chocala'e with mello's."

That's my girl, Cas smirked to himself as he poured the chocolate-y concoction in a yellow mug with duck feet and added flavoured marshmallows to it. "Okay?" he showed her the bounty, and she nodded her approval. "Now go and wait under the Gifting Tree," he slapped her butt, urging her on, and straightened. He brought out two more mugs, poured rest of the drink into them, topping them with rum and "mellos". He set everything on a tray and carried it outside.

As expected he found Emma and Dean sitting a sea of torn paper and smiled, moving in direction of his family. "Took a lot of time," Dean smiled, accepting the cup and pecking him lightly on the lips.

"Yes, well, can't screw up the Potion of Sleep," he replied in a conspiratorial whisper, sipping his drink. "I thought we agreed on only one present each."

"Well…" Dean grinned and sheepishly rubbed his neck. "We wanted to… but we couldn't decide which one. So…" and pushed one of the wrapped boxes towards him.

Cas laughed, and proceeded to tear open the wrapping paper, inspiring Emma to create more mess than she and Dean had initially created.

Later that night, when the house is finally silent and the warm body pressed into his is snoring softly, Cas closes his eyes and listens to their daughter's breathing from the next room.

He hasn't told Dean, he doubts if he ever will, but sometimes he feels that Dean was right all those years ago, when he said that Cas would start feeling trapped. Sometimes he does… sometimes he even thinks about running… and he knows Dean would never stop him. Dean would most probably hand him the Impala and tell him to make his own road… follow his own heart.

But then he looks into the green eyes of the man who loves him or listens to the small voice that calls him 'mum' and feeds him ridiculous stories she learnt from her friends. He wonders about Emma starting school and growing old with his Major and knows that he made the right decision when he decided to seek out that one person who shone like a beacon in his darkness.

Dean always says that Cas saved his life, but, in truth, it was Dean who saved him. When Nick died Cas was lost... broken... and Dean was the one who guided him back... put him back together. It was Dean who have him back his family, a life he always wanted…

"Go to sleep, Cas," Dean says drowsily, patting his cheek, then trailing his hand down Cas' body until it's resting between his thighs. "I can actually hear you think."

"Freak," he replies, turning around to press a kiss into the nearest part of the body behind him, then burrow deeply into his arms.

No, he tells himself, I am not trapped. I'm finally home.

And Cut!

A/N 2: And now, I'm gonna go totally OC and Beg for Reviews. I need at least 121 new ones, considering you are my regulars. Everyone else, I'd really love to hear what you have to say to me. C'mon people, feed some scraps, I'm waiting...