Warning: Thoughts of self harm. And another minor character death off screen.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

As soon as he opened his eyes on the morning of March eighth, sadness weighed Castiel down like lead. He stared up at the ceiling fan, unable to even summon the energy to turn off his alarm. He was thirty-nine years old. One year older than Jimmy would ever be.

The bedroom door opened and Dean came in holding a cup of fragrant coffee. Castiel couldn't even lift his head. "Hey, sweetheart," Dean said gently like he was talking to a skittish animal. He turned off the alarm and set the coffee cup down on the nightstand before perching on the mattress next to Castiel's hip. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm older than him." The words came out flat and toneless, addressed to the ceiling fan. "Jimmy was born at exactly six a.m. I was born at six oh seven. He always joked on our birthday that for those seven minutes he was a whole year older than me. But now I'm thirty-nine, and he'll always be thirty-eight. Forever."

Dean squeezed Castiel's hand silently.

"Is Claire up yet?" Castiel asked.

"Yeah. I made her eggs and I told her she could watch cartoons after she finishes eating and gets dressed. That oughtta buy us some time."

Castiel frowned. "Time for what?"

"To get ready to go? ASL class? And then we're going out for lunch with Max and Aaron."

"Oh. Right." Castiel had completely forgotten that today was Sunday. He was so tired. "Dean, would you mind going without me today? I don't think I feel up to it."

It was Dean's turn to frown in confusion. "Are you sick?" He felt Castiel's forehead. "You don't have a fever."

"I'm not sick. I just… don't feel like being around people today. You and Claire have fun."

Dean gave Castiel a considering look, then said, "No."

Castiel blinked, pure shock snapping him out of his fog somewhat. "What?"

"No," Dean repeated firmly. "You asked me to treat this like a normal day. You said that with a clear head, so I think it supersedes anything coming out of your mouth right now. Today is Sunday, and on Sundays we take Claire to ASL class together, and then we go out with Max and Aaron and Tasha. That's what a normal day looks like, so that's what we're gonna do."

"I'm tired, Dean," Castiel protested. He wasn't proud of the whine that crept into his voice, but he didn't have the energy to stop it. "I just want a break. Please."

Dean's expression softened but he didn't yield. "You're not tired, sweetheart. You're depressed. I know you think that sleeping the day away will make you feel better, but it won't. Trust me on this. What you need is a distraction. Drink your coffee and get dressed. I'll make sure Claire's ready to go." He patted Castiel's arm and left.

Castiel stared resentfully at the ceiling again. Part of him knew that Dean was right. This was a familiar feeling, this weight pressing down on his chest, making even the simple task of getting out of bed seem impossible, and no amount of rest had ever cured it. This feeling had been his constant companion when he was younger.

He reached under the blanket, touching the scars on his thighs, remembering the sting of the blade and the rush of relief that always followed it, like the darkness inside him was escaping along with his blood. For a moment, his hand longed for a knife, a razor, anything sharp. He wouldn't cut deep. He wouldn't do any real damage. Just a moment of relief. He knew how to care for the wounds so they wouldn't get infected.

But then he pictured Dean seeing the bandages and knowing what he'd done, and he suddenly felt disgusted with himself. He snatched his hand away and threw off the blanket. He would not become that version of himself again. Dean deserved better. Claire deserved better. And Castiel himself deserved better.

He took a long drink of lukewarm coffee. It woke him up a little, mostly because his brain associated the taste with the beginning of the day.

When Castiel appeared in the kitchen ten minutes later, fully dressed, empty coffee cup in hand, Dean's radiant smile banished a little more of the darkness. Castiel stepped into his boyfriend's welcoming arms and pressed a kiss to Dean's lips. "Thank you," he murmured.

"You're welcome." Dean rubbed Castiel's back. "Honestly, I was a little worried that I had pushed too hard, but I had a bad feeling about leaving you here all alone."

"I'm glad you listened to that feeling," Castiel said, looking into Dean's eyes. "I can get… pretty deep in my head sometimes. I need tough love on days like this."

Dean nodded. "I'll remember that."

~o0o~

After class, Claire delivered a party invitation to Miss Eileen. She insisted on doing it by herself while Castiel and Dean waited on the far side of the room with Max and Aaron.

"Damn," Dean said, watching Claire and Miss Eileen have an animated conversation in sign language. "Look at her go. I've been learning this stuff for the same amount of time she has, and I'm nowhere near that good."

"Kids pick up languages faster," Aaron said. "Their brains are still assimilating the whole concept of language to begin with, so there's more flexibility. When I was little, I was fluent in Yiddish even though the only person who spoke it to me was my grandfather. I forgot most of it after he died."

"I used to speak Polish," Castiel said without thinking.

Dean looked at him in surprise. "I didn't know that."

Castiel shrugged. "Yeah. My mother and grandmother spoke mostly Polish at home unless we had guests. It was actually my first language. For a while after we went into foster care, Jimmy and I kept speaking it with each other. It became our secret code. But as we got older and spent less time in the same home, we both lost the language. I only remember a few words, mostly food related."

He wondered which words Jimmy had retained, or had he preferred to forget everything from that time in their lives when they were best friends, before Castiel's "choices" disgusted him so deeply? Another question that would never be answered. Another thing lost to the gaping chasm between them. Would they have managed to bridge it eventually if they'd had more time, or would they have gone on living mostly separate lives, thinking they would always have more time?

Dean's arm around his waist drew Castiel out of his thoughts.

"I remember this one song my grandfather used to sing to me," Aaron was saying. "Something about a baby in a cradle, and I think there was a sheep involved. The sheep was sleeping under the cradle maybe?" He frowned, trying to remember, then shrugged. "I could probably Google it."

Claire came running back, a big grin on her face.

"So is she coming to the party?" Castiel asked.

Claire nodded emphatically.

"Wonderful. I'm very proud of you for going over there all by yourself. That was very grown up."

Claire held up both her hands, all ten fingers extended.

"That's right," Castiel chuckled. "You're going to be ten in just two weeks. That's a big girl."

His throat tightened as he thought once again about all the milestones Jimmy was missing. Claire had already changed so much just in the four months since she came to live with Castiel. She was at least an inch taller, and she was quickly losing her little kid softness, becoming a gangly prepubescent girl, all knees and elbows. She had started wearing her hair differently too, abandoning the pigtails in favor of a single high pony. Castiel assumed she had seen other girls at school wearing it that way and followed the trend. He wondered with some trepidation how much longer it would be before she started wanting pierced ears. Should he allow that if she asked? Jimmy almost certainly wouldn't have.

Sensing Castiel's mood swinging downward, Dean saved him once again, this time by saying cheerfully, "Who's hungry?"

Claire, Tasha, and Max all raised their hands.

During lunch, Castiel mostly focused on his food, and Dean dialed up the charm, carrying the conversation so that Castiel's lack of participation was less noticeable. If Max and Aaron noticed that something was off, they didn't comment. Claire too seemed blessedly oblivious to Castiel's mood and the significance of this day.

When they got home, Castiel set up his laptop on the dining room table and spent some time working on the photo album for Claire's birthday while Claire and Dean played a cutthroat game of Monopoly in the living room. Maybe today wasn't the best day for a stroll down memory lane, but if he wanted to have the album ready in time for Claire's birthday, he had to print the pictures soon. He sorted through dozens of emails from Jimmy going back years and discovered he had a lot more photos than he had realized. In fact, most of the emails between Jimmy and Castiel were updates about Claire. Claire played an angel in the school Christmas pageant. Claire rode a pony at the zoo last weekend. Claire lost her first tooth. Castiel's replies contained little information about his own life, and he didn't even have the excuse of being a single parent with no time for a life of his own.

In many ways, Claire's birth had brought Castiel and Jimmy together again, but in other ways, they had both taken to using her as a buffer. Their monthly phone calls were mainly spent talking about Claire. When Castiel went to Illinois for his annual visit, he spent most of that time doting on Claire. He would volunteer to take her out for the afternoon, ostensibly so Jimmy could finish wrapping Christmas presents, but really to avoid the possibility of one on one time with his brother.

As he downloaded a picture from Claire's fifth birthday party, Castiel's eyes caught on his reply to that particular email. She's getting so big. She looks more like Amelia every day. I'm glad she liked the books. I couldn't remember if she was reading yet, but I figured you could read them to her if not. Thank you for the "Food and Wine" subscription and the apron you sent for our birthday.

Our birthday. The rest of it read like two people who were barely acquainted. Distant cousins perhaps, exchanging Christmas cards out of habit. But those two words. Our birthday. They had always called it that. With other people Castiel might talk about 'my birthday', but with Jimmy it was always 'our birthday'. Now it was solely his. Well, him and however many other people had been born on this date, but he didn't know them. He hadn't shared a womb with them for nine months. He hadn't stood shoulder to shoulder with them, blowing out the candles on a giant chocolate cake that Babi had made herself.

Castiel remembered their first birthday in foster care. Their social worker had bought them each a little individual cake with a single candle stuck in the center. She probably thought she was being nice. Most people pitied twins for having to share their birthday, assuming they felt cheated of the attention and fuss that should have been their due. But Castiel and Jimmy had always loved their giant cake with twice as many candles as their age.

Someone reached over Castiel's shoulder and gently closed the laptop, snapping him out of his thoughts. Dean pushed the computer aside and replaced it with a plate of spaghetti. "Dinner," he said, pressing a quick kiss to Castiel's cheek.

"Dinner?" Castiel echoed in confusion. "But it's only…" He looked at his watch. It was after four. Missouri would be here soon. "Oh."

"Yeah, you were pretty in the zone," Dean said. He sat down next to Castiel with a second plate of spaghetti. "Did you find some good pictures?"

"Yes. Lots. Where's Claire? Was she not hungry?"

"I got her set up in the living room. She's watching Lilo and Stitch while she eats. I figured that way we could have a little time just the two of us. Is that okay?"

Castiel felt a wave of love so overwhelming his eyes stung with tears. He blinked a few times and the sting faded but the love remained, burning bright in his chest. "It's fine, Dean. Thank you for everything you've done today. For getting me out of bed and out of the house. For looking after Claire and making dinner. I… I don't know what I would have done without you."

Dean turned a little pink around the ears. "Don't mention it, Cas. What are boyfriends for?"

Castiel smiled and dug into his spaghetti. He blinked as a familiar yet wholly unexpected flavor burst over his tongue. "Are there cut up hot dogs in this?"

"Yeah. Claire requested it. I hadn't had it since I was a kid, but it is as awesome as I remember. Maybe we should put it on the menu at our restaurant." He grinned to let Castiel know he was joking.

Castiel chewed and swallowed carefully. He half expected it to turn to ash in his mouth, but it didn't.

The smile slid off Dean's face. "Do you not like it?"

"No. I mean, no, it's good. I like it. It's just… it was Jimmy's favorite"

"Oh. I can… I can make you something else if you want."

Castiel took another tentative bite. It continued to taste like spaghetti and hot dogs and tomato sauce, and not like bitter memories and regrets. "No, it's fine. It… feels kind of fitting, you know? For today? Maybe…" Castiel lifted another bite on his fork and looked at it consideringly. "Maybe this will be my new birthday tradition. Spaghetti and hot dogs in Jimmy's honor."

This time Dean's smile was sad. "I think that sounds like a good tradition."

"And we should definitely put this on the restaurant menu. It would be a nice option for kids. A change up from the usual fries and chicken nuggets."

"Oh. Yeah, that's a good point. And grilled cheese sandwiches too. Kids love grilled cheese. Hey, we should consult Claire on the kids menu. I'm sure she'd have some ideas."

"I'm sure she would," Castiel said. "And I'm sure she'd enjoy being included. It might help to offset any anxiety she has about things changing."

Dean's brow furrowed in concern. "You think this could trigger her?"

"I think she's finally settled into a routine and we're about to take a big part of that routine away. Schedules will change. New people will come into our lives. I still think we're doing the right thing. I can't trust Naomi after what she did. I'm just saying, we need to be prepared to help Claire through this transition. She might react in unexpected ways."

Dean nodded. "Do you think we should talk to Dr. Bradbury about it?"

"It couldn't hurt."

"Okay. So we'll do that." He squeezed Castiel's arm. "We'll make sure Claire gets everything she needs."

His easy use of that "we" eased Castiel's mind more than anything. "You know," Castiel said as casually as he could, "this building we're in the process of buying has an apartment on the second floor. Three bedrooms."

Dean's lips twitched. He clearly suspected where Castiel was going with this. "I noticed that. It's even in the same school district as this place."

Castiel felt a smile spread over his face almost against his will. "You checked the school district?"

"Well, yeah," Dean said as though this should be obvious. "Claire has a really great support system at that school. I wouldn't want to take her away from that. The goal here is to disrupt her life as little as possible, right?"

Castiel leaned over and kissed him, hot dog breath be damned. When they parted, Dean looked a little stunned. "What was that for?"

"For being you. It's stuff like this that makes me believe I'm not crazy for falling for you so fast."

"So… is that a yes on moving in together?"

"It's a hell yes."

Dean grinned. "Awesome. I can have Sammy sublet my place until the lease is up."

"I own this place," Castiel said. "I can put it on the market as soon as the sale of the restaurant is finalized. And we can put the money towards whatever renovations and redecorating we need to do." He suddenly felt giddy with anticipation, and he couldn't resist the urge to kiss Dean again. He might have suggested they abandon their dinner for a quickie in the bedroom before work if the doorbell hadn't chosen that moment to ring. Missouri had arrived. He reluctantly pried himself away from Dean to answer the door.

~o0o~

Work was uneventful. They made fancy food. Naomi and Dean continued their icy standoff. Castiel successfully avoided a conversation with the McLeods by the simple expedient of pretending to be very busy and five-more-minutes-ing Naomi over and over until she gave up. The annoyed looks she threw him barely registered, buoyed as he was by daydreams of moving in with Dean.

In hindsight, he felt he should have known it was all going too well.

They were walking to Dean's car when Dean suddenly stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk. Castiel was forced to stop too since he was holding Dean's hand. It wasn't difficult to deduce what Dean was reacting to. A stranger was leaning casually against the Impala. He was a tall, sandy haired man, probably in his early twenties, wearing a canvas jacket over a hoodie, and smoking a cigarette.

"Dean? Do you know him?" Castiel asked.

Dean just nodded. He looked like he was seeing a ghost.

The man saw them watching him and straightened up, dropping his cigarette and grinding it out under his boot. The boots looked like army issue or army surplus; the jacket too now that Castiel thought about it. In fact, everything about this man said 'military' from his posture to his haircut.

Dean let go of Castiel's hand and moved forward, not very subtly placing himself between Castiel and the stranger. "Adam," he said evenly.

"Dean," the man, Adam, replied in the same tone.

"How did you find me?"

Adam shrugged. "Google. You're on the restaurant's website."

Dean's eyebrows rose. "They allow internet now?"

"I went to the library in town. A very nice young lady showed me what to do. No one else knows that I tracked you down, not even Mom, and I have no intention of telling them. They think I'm on a hunting trip."

Castiel looked at Dean, searching for any clue to what the hell was happening right now, but Dean's face was perfectly blank. "So what brings you here to the big city?" he asked. "Just wanted to catch up? See a Broadway show?"

"Dad's dead."

The words cracked Dean's blank mask instantly, first shock then naked grief showing through. "W-when? How?"

"A month ago. Heart attack. It was sudden. He didn't suffer. Funeral's long done. You wouldn't have been able to come anyway. I just thought…" Adam looked away for a moment as though he couldn't bear to watch Dean's grief. "I thought you had a right to know. You and Sam. I assume you know how to get in touch with Sam?"

Dean nodded. "I'll take care of it. I, uh… I guess he was cremated."

Adam's head jerked in curt affirmation. "The body was destroyed within twenty-four hours to prevent possession."

Castiel had no idea what that meant, but Dean seemed to understand. "Okay," he said. "Thanks for telling me. Is that all?"

"That's all. I'll be on my way. You have my word I won't tell anyone else where to find you."

"Appreciate it."

Adam started to turn away, but when Dean called his name, he paused.

"If you ever need a place to go," Dean said, "look up Bobby Singer in Sioux Falls. Tell him you're John Winchester's kid. He'll help you. And he'll know how to find me and Sam if… if that's something you want."

Adam's expression was unreadable. He merely nodded and then kept walking. In seconds, he had disappeared around the corner.

Dean remained frozen in place. Castiel carefully touched his arm. "Dean? Are you alright? Who was that?"

"My brother," Dean said hollowly. "Well, my half brother. My dad's son with his second wife. Haven't seen him since he was about five. Surprised I even recognized him. He looks like his mom though. I guess that's why."

Castiel's mind was reeling with questions. Who was this mysterious "they" who didn't allow internet and shouldn't be told how to find Dean? What did it mean, "the body was destroyed to prevent possession"? Why hadn't he known that Dean had another sibling besides Sam? Were there any more brothers and sisters Dean had never mentioned? And perhaps most important, why had Dean made it seem like both his parents were long dead when that clearly wasn't the case?

"Dean, talk to me," Castiel pleaded when Dean continued to just stand there staring at Adam's cigarette on the sidewalk. "What's going on? Who are you hiding from? Are you… are you in danger?"

That finally snapped Dean out of it. He looked at Castiel and seemed to actually see him. "No. No, I wouldn't bring that crap to your door on purpose, Cas. I wouldn't put you and Claire in danger. I promise they stopped looking for me a long time ago. And they don't believe in the internet so—"

"Who are they?! What is going on?! Did you escape from a cult or— Oh my God, you did. You grew up in a cult?"

Dean nodded. "I swear I was gonna tell you, Cas. Soon. Before we moved in together for sure."

Castiel wanted very much to believe him, but… the emotional roller coaster of this day had already been a lot before this revelation, and he was feeling as oversensitive as an exposed nerve. "We shouldn't have this conversation right now," he said. "We're both tired and emotional, and you need to go break the news to Sam before you do anything else. Can you drop me off at home or should I get a cab?"

"I can take you home," Dean said quietly. "Can I come over tomorrow while Claire is at school?"

Castiel nodded. Thank goodness tomorrow was Monday and they would have plenty of time to figure this out before they had to go back to work.

The car ride back to Castiel's apartment was tense and silent aside from the familiar rumble of the Impala's engine. When they finally arrived, Dean put the car in park and tentatively leaned over to kiss Castiel goodnight. When Castiel melted, lifting his hand to cradle Dean's face and kissing back softly, Dean's relief was palpable.

"We're going to be okay, Dean," Castiel murmured when they parted. "I'm not… I'm not angry with you. I was just caught by surprise and it's already been a long day so I'm not processing very well."

"I know," Dean said, resting his forehead against Castiel's. "It was fucking terrible timing. I'm so sorry you found out like this. That's not how I wanted to tell you."

Castiel drew Dean deeper into his arms, hugging him tight. "I'm sorry about your dad," he whispered, stroking Dean's hair. "I should have said it before. It should have been the first thing I said."

Dean gave a shuddering sigh. "Thanks, Cas. You might not say that if you'd ever met him, but… thanks."

"I would," Castiel said with certainty. "Regardless of what kind of person he was, he was your father, and I'm sorry for your loss. That's not about him. It's about you."

Dean nodded, rubbing his cheek on Castiel's coat. "I gotta go home," he said regretfully. "I'll talk to Sam in the morning. No point waking him up for this. God, I wish I could spend the night with you."

"I wish that too," Castiel sighed. "But we'll see each other tomorrow, and we don't have to talk about this until you're ready. I trust you. If you need more time, I'm willing to wait just like you waited for me to be ready to talk about my past."

Dean held Castiel a little tighter. "God, I don't deserve you."

"Oh, hush. None of that. You deserve love, Dean Winchester. After everything you've done for me these past few months, it's high time I returned the favor. After all, what are boyfriends for?"

~o0o~

Castiel held it together all the way up the stairs and through the door of his apartment, but when Missouri looked up from her knitting, something in his face must have tipped her off. She said, "Oh, honey," and in an instant, she was across the room and pulling him into her arms. He could no more resist her comfort than he could make his heart stop beating.

He muffled a sob in her shoulder, all the conflicting emotions of the day finally catching up to him in a tidal wave. She rocked him gently from side to side just like he did for Claire and murmured, "That's it, sugar. Let it all out. There's no one here you need to be strong for. It's just me, and I'm strong enough for both of us."

Castiel had no idea how long he cried in her arms. Long enough to leave a wet patch on her dress. When he had cried himself dry, Missouri guided him over to the sofa. Then she disappeared for a minute and came back with a glass of water.

"Thank you," he croaked.

"You're welcome. Drink that all up now. Crying is dehydrating. That's why your head hurts right now."

He drank, and the headache eased, as did the weird sticky feeling in his mouth.

Missouri didn't ask if he wanted to talk about it, but she made space in the silence for him to do so, and Castiel found himself speaking without making a conscious decision about it.

"It's my birthday. Or… it was." The clock read past midnight now. It was Jimmy's birthday too. Claire's father. We were twins. It's the first birthday I've ever had without him. Even when we barely had a relationship, we always talked on our birthday."

Missouri made a sympathetic sound. "I always miss my mother most on my birthday. After I left home, she would call and sing to me over the phone. Every year without fail. The first year after she passed, I felt like I spent the whole day waiting for the phone to ring."

That was the feeling he'd had all day, Castiel realized. A nebulous sense of waiting. "I feel so lost without him. Which is strange because we weren't close, but it's like… I always knew he was out there somewhere, no matter how far apart we were, the way a compass knows true north, and now I'm just spinning in circles. Lost. And I try so hard to be a good father to Claire in his stead because that's literally the only thing he ever asked me for, but at the same time, I know I'm doing a million things he wouldn't approve of. Letting Dean into Claire's life for a start. But I can't change who I am, and I won't teach Claire that it's wrong! That would go against everything I believe, and he had to have known that! My brother was many things, but he was not deluded. He asked me to raise her knowing who I am and what kind of life I lead. So why do I still feel like I'm betraying him?"

"Because you're human," Missouri said simply, "and you're grieving a very complicated relationship. Feelings aren't logical. They play by their own rules. For what it's worth, you and Dean are doing a wonderful job with that little girl. Just in the short time I've known her, she's blossomed from a sad, skittish little thing into a bright, expressive young lady with some very strong opinions."

Castiel chuckled wetly. "She has at that, and I want to believe that if Jimmy could see how happy she is and how much she and Dean adore each other, he would understand that there's nothing wrong with any of this, but… I don't know. He had some rather strong opinions of his own."

"But he never made you promise to raise her exactly as he would have, did he? He only asked you to give her a home. That says to me that he at least had his priorities in order, and he didn't value his politics over his daughter's happiness."

Castiel looked down into his half empty water glass. "I just keep thinking, what if he had lived, and then a few years from now, Claire found herself attracted to another girl? Would he have been as disgusted with her as he was with me? Would he have kicked her out? Or would he have been able to overcome his prejudices for her sake? I'll never know. And what if she does come out to me one day? Should I tell her her father was a homophobe, or should I lie and tell her that of course he would have loved her no matter what?"

Missouri hummed thoughtfully. "In my experience, lying to children to protect them always backfires. The truth may be difficult to live with at first, but if you help them absorb it and let them have whatever feelings they have about it, they'll be better off in the long run."

Castiel sighed. "Yeah, you're right. I just hate to destroy the image of her father she has in her head. She's still at that age where your parents are superhuman. And now that he's gone, he's going to stay that way in her memory. Dean and I will become uncool and embarrassing, but Jimmy will always be the perfect dad. Cool and fun and nearly magic. She'll forget all the fights they had over bedtime and eating her vegetables, but she'll remember the times he took her out for ice cream and the stories he told her."

"And nothing you can tell her will erase any of that," Missouri said. "She'll learn to let two versions of him exist side by side in her memory — the perfect dad, and the flawed human being. It will be good practice for life. It will help her understand that everyone is more complicated than they appear."

"I really hope you're right." He took another gulp of water, and as he did, he noticed the clock. Missouri had been talking to him for going on half an hour. She should have been home by now. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to keep you from your bed. I'll pay you a little extra this week to make up for—"

"Castiel Novak, don't you dare," Missouri said with steel in her voice. "I can leave whenever I want to now that you're here to look after Claire. If I'm still here, it's because here is where I want to be."

Castiel wilted under her glare. "Of course. I'm sorry."

"I'm surprised that boyfriend of yours isn't here. Doesn't he usually stay over on Sunday nights since you have Mondays off?"

"Dean has family obligations tomorrow morning. It's a long story and not really mine to tell."

Missouri accepted this with a nod. "Well, you finish that water and get into pajamas. I'm going to make you some chamomile with honey to help you sleep."

This time Castiel didn't argue. If Missouri had decided that he needed pampering, then pampered he would be even if she had to tie him down and force feed him tea. It was safer to surrender.

Holy shit. It's finally here. This story has been in progress for five years which means I have been holding onto this Dean backstory for just about five years, and now it's finally time to share it with all of you. Are you excited? Cuz I'm excited. 😁