Chapter 65.

At a table nearby, a little boy in a zoo baseball cap and red T-shirt was noisily enjoying a burger. His mother rolled her eyes as mothers do and wiped his lips with a napkin. Dean found it hard to tear his eyes away.

It was nothing to them, a moment of slight annoyance for both, unimportant in the course of a happy childhood, irrelevant. He wished he could go back to his younger self at moments like that and say, "Remember everything, because this won't last forever. She won't always be here to wipe your face and roll her eyes."

Anael must have seen him looking. She said quietly, "I'd like one of those."

"A kid?" he said, "Not an option. The whole Nephilim thing." That felt needlessly blunt. "Sorry." he said.

"Don't worry, I didn't mean the kid, I meant the hat. I'd look okay in a baseball cap, wouldn't I?"

He looked at her, trying to imagine anything she wouldn't look a lot better than okay in and coming up with nothing. "Yeah, you'd look cute." he said.

"Is that good or bad?" she said.

"Good. Only good. Long hair, falling out from under a cute cap, that's sexy." He looked back across at the little boy, who was now laughing and getting a smile in response from his mother.

"They're very happy, aren't they?" said Anael.

"They have a lot to be happy about." said Dean.

"They're a family." she said, no trace in her voice of the yearning he saw in her eyes.

"So are we," he said, "All of us."

"We are, aren't we?" she said, starting to smile. "I know, as an angel, I can never be a mother, but if I can become ... "

"Hey, there are more ways to be a mom than giving birth to a freakin' Nephilim!" he said, "Look at Jody, houseful of daughters, not one of them hers by blood. Look at Jack. He's not our kid, but he's our kid forever." He almost mentioned Ben, but mentioning Ben never made anything better. "You want a kid, we'll find a way. The world never seems to run out of orphans."

"But you don't want one, do you?" she said and he got the impression she would soon circle back to, "If I can become ... "

"Not really," he said, "I'm not really dad material. Don't have the patience, don't have the wisdom, don't hug."

"Your dad had all those things?" she said.

"No and that's kinda my point. Look how screwed up Sam and I were. Are."

"Is there any conversation that won't end with you saying something negative about yourself?" she said.

"I'm not being negative, just honest. Our childhood was messed up and when I tried to be a dad, I messed it up too, but that's fine. You adopt a kid, it takes a village. You have a whole bunker of better parents than me, plus Jody, plus Donna, plus Sarah."

"But you'd be around?" she said.

He chuckled. "Trust me, being around you is my new favourite thing."

She put her hand on his, her expression uncertain, as if she expected him to bat it away. "I love being around you too." she said, "If I become ... "

"You know how I feel about that. Instant deal-breaker." he said.

"No room for negotiation?"

"None." he said. The last thing he wanted was to have to explain further. It didn't make a lot of sense to him. If she were human, they could have a real, human life together. Kids, companionship, old age, the whole nine. But it would always be on his mind that she had made the decision because of him and every sign of aging would be a reminder that she had given up immortality to be with him.

She always said that it wasn't about him, that she had wanted it for years, but guilt was never rational, however much he would rationalise it. She had to remain immortal, unbreakable, safe from all the horrors that being with him could bring.

Only they weren't safe, ever. Even as an angel, even now as an archangel, Cas could be hurt and tortured and killed. He was asking Anael to give up everything she wanted, to be with him and that was precisely what he told himself he wanted to avoid by ruling out the humanity thing.

He wished he could give her some hope that he would change his mind, but even if he thought he might, he couldn't. To suggest it was possible meant he would at some point have to tell her that it wasn't and if she had allowed herself to dream, he dream would be crushed. He had asked his parents to get a dog and his mother had said, "We'll see." and his heart had soared, but there was never going to be a dog and it had become just another broken promise to be angry about.

There were so many of those, so many times when she had promised him unending love, a secure family, a permanent home and she had meant every word, but then she had burned on the ceiling. He'd been filled with rage, a sense of the injustice of it all, because she had promised and at four years of age, a promise is a promise.

You can't be angry with a dead woman. You can't blame someone for being killed. You can't resent a broken promise when only her death made her break it. The anger can't be unleashed, so it festers and it brews and it bursts out at random times and in random directions and is all the fiercer for being uncertain of its grounds, unclear of its justice.

He knew he was overthinking again and it seemed like a bad time for introspection. It might illuminate too many of the dark corners and pull too sharply on the threads of his rationality. If he were to have a relationship with Anael that meant anything, he couldn't be wallowing in past pain.

Yes, at the core of his anger issues and a lot of his other issues too, there was that abandoned child, silently screaming his pain, but why think about it when there was no fixing it? He had chosen self-control over any prospect of healing, because sometimes, a thing got so broken that there was no point in trying.

"Are we okay?" she said. Like Cas always did, she misinterpreted his silence as anger.

"We're fine." he said, "I'm sorry. It's not you. Crap from ancient history is rising up."

"Is it Egypt?" she said.

"What?"

"That always gets to me." she said, "Bad memories of some pretty brutal Pharoahs."

He smiled, trying not to laugh. "Not that kind of ancient history." he said.

"Metaphor?"

"That kinda thing, yeah."

"I don't talk about it to hurt you." she said.

"I know and I don't shut it down to hurt you," he said, "But we both get hurt, don't we? Every single time. And maybe, in the end, that's gonna be the rock that wrecks it all, because neither of us is gonna back down."

"Maybe." she said.

"And this is why I told you to find someone else."

"I know, but I don't want anyone else."

"I can't back down, okay? I can't." he said.

"I know you feel that way."

"But you still want to be human."

"I still want to be human. I am human."

"No. I'm sorry, but you're not." he said.

"Sometimes I think I'm more human than you are." she said.

He shrugged, wishing he could disagree. "You probably are." he said, "And maybe, that's enough."

"I want a baseball cap." she said, the change in subject and tone a complete surprise, but very welcome.

"That, we can do." he said.

"And I want to stay with you for as long as I can."

"At least we agree on something."

She looked over to the cookie display. "Could I have a cookie?" she said.

He nodded. "Everyone deserves a cookie."