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“You gotta help me here, Jody. I’m in deep, deep trouble with this one. I’m serious, I need your help.“ The desperation was painfully obvious in his voice.

“Seriously, Dean? It’s one 16 year old with an attitude, it’s hardly the end of the world. At least yours wasn’t raised by vampires, think yourself lucky. Take her to a movie, buy her a new phone, just get her on your side. Call me when it’s the apocalypse.” There was a click. Jody was gone and Dean was left to fend for himself. 

It had been eight months since Claire Novak moved into the bunker and it had been… Interesting, to say the least. She hated Dean. Pure and simple. No matter how hard he tried to win her over, no matter how much he avoided her, it always ended up in a screaming match and two thoroughly slammed doors. At first, it wasn’t just Dean she hated. At first, anyone that dared even knock on her door was met with a torrent of abuse.

Within three weeks, Jody was allowed  to talk to her. A week after that, Cas was accepted into the circle of trust. A few days later, Dean walked in on Charlie and Claire both hysterically laughing. Three months into Claire’s stay, Sam had his first full conversation with the girl. Dean had figured that eventually, eventually his time would come. But five more months passed and Dean was yet to hear her voice at a normal decibel. It was really beginning to grate on Dean’s nerves.

It wasn’t like he didn’t understand her reasoning. Jody was a comforting reminder of her Mother, Charlie was like a cool older sister, Cas was wearing her damn father for gods sake and Sammy was  basically a giant teddy bear. And Dean, well Dean was the guy banging the dude inhabiting her father’s old body. Yeah. So Dean did sympathise with the kid, it was a fucked up situation after all.

He tried to be discreet with Cas whenever she was around. He kept the touches light and brief, the innuendos were at a bare minimum and he was very, very careful to use only ‘bro’ approved nicknames from the second he heard her bedroom door open in the morning to the second it closed at night. It was difficult and Dean hated it but he would do anything to make Cas happy, which meant keeping Claire happy.

Cas and Claire were generally harmonious. Dean had even heard the word ‘Dad’ being thrown around between them, at first as a kind of inside joke until it became less of a joke. The pair rarely, really argued. So it was quite a change to hear Claire screaming at someone other than Dean, as the man in question enjoyed his morning coffee.

“Look Castiel, it’s not a big deal. You drive me to a concert. You do whatever old people do while I have a great time. Then you pick me up and we drive back here. Its not exactly life threatening.” Claire’s volume was dangerously high, indicating to Dean that this argument was long drawn out and had probably begun hours before he even awoke.

“Please Claire, you have to understand. I do not wish to stop you having fun, that is really not my intention. But I can’t drive, Sam and Charlie will be away on a hunt and Jody’s busy with Alex. There’s no one to take or supervise you. I’m sorry.” From the look on his face, he really truly was sorry.

The words left Deans mouth before he even processed them.

“Why don’t I take her?”

The response was instantaneous.

“Absolutely not.”

“Dean I don’t think that’s such a good idea. Can I please talk to you, alone, for a second?” Cas’ eyebrows were raised high and his mouth was set straight. Dean clearly had no choice in the matter. He let Cas take his hand and lead him out of the kitchen, choosing to ignore Claire’s eye roll at the slight touch. Once they were out of the range of prying teenage ears and eyes, Cas gave the biggest sigh Dean had ever heard. “Thank you for offering to take her. But I was lying to her before, I could quite easily get her there and back in sufficient time. I believe the concert she wishes to attend is somewhat inappropriate for her age, but I also believe telling her this would cause a lot more shouting to occur. I can’t explain it but the thought of her at this concert, it - well, it worries me greatly. Plus, you’re still recovering from the removal of The Mark. So thank you Dean, thank you for trying with her. But please do not take her to that concert.” 

Dean considered for a second, the gears in his brain whirring. On the one hand, Cas had asked him not to. Cas had made it very clear that leaving the bunker was a no go for both Claire and Dean. On the other hand, it had been years since Dean had been to an honest to god concert and it would be a great way to win over Claire, as Jody had suggested. Before he’d even decided he was nodding and pulling Cas into a long hug.

After a short while, the two went back to the kitchen and Cas annoyingly delivered the news that actually Dean wasn’t feeling up to it after all. If Claire wasn’t eating, Dean was sure she would’ve stormed out of the room. She was a lot like Dean in that way; outrage took the back seat when there was food involved. Eventually Cas got bored of the kitchen and excused himself to do further research into some miracles that had occurred one state over, they suspected angel intervention. He stole a kiss from Dean as he passed, causing Claire to grimace. Dean waited a good few minutes before he was sure Cas was out of earshot before he addressed her.

“So, tell me more about this concert.”

She snorted. “Not a chance, old man. Besides, I thought you were too under the weather? Or were you lying? To me or to Da-, I mean Castiel?”

Dean chose to ignore her very nearly almost slip of the tongue, and her very incorrect use of the word old. “Look, Cas doesn’t want you to go, so unless you have a way to sneak out if this basically impenetrable bunker, drive yourself there and sneak back in, all without alerting the guy, you ain’t going. Now me, I’ve got a real neat trick to get rid of him. I’m just as tired of being cooped up in this bunker as you are. I’m going whether you’re there or not, it’s up to you kid.”

She considered it, chewing for a few seconds. “Fine. Doors open at 7 so we should probably leave around 5:30 so I can get right to the front when we get in. How are we going to get out without Castiel knowing?“

“Nope, doors open at 7 which means the real fun doesn’t start until at least 10:30, trust me. We’ll leave at 10, I’ll get you to the front. As for getting out, that’s for me to know. You just make sure Cas sees you ready for bed, but definitely angry. If you’re not angry he won’t believe it. See you in a bit, kiddo.”

Dean left the kitchen, unreasonably pleased with himself. He could make this work. He had to make this work. Cas cared about Claire, in his own awkward, angelic way. Cared about her a lot, actually. Dean could see that it upset the angel whenever Dean and Claire fought. Maybe this would finally make Claire tolerate him and maybe, just maybe, it could mean less yelling around the bunker.

Dean set to work on their escape plan immediately. He followed the sound of tapping keys and heavy sighs all the way to the library, where he found his two favourite dorks, both elbow deep in research. Dean honestly couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the two of them, heads slumped into palms with boredom as they trawled news sites for any new leads on their respective cases.

“Sorry to interrupt the party but I need to steal Cas for a few. You and Charlie leaving soon?” The question was directed at Sammy, as Cas shut down the laptop and gathered his things away.

“Uh yeah, couple of hours. We’re taking Charlie’s truck. The towns only an hour away so there’s no huge rush. We’re thinking it’s a witch,” Dean shuddered at the thought, “Probably fairly new seeing as the cops actually found the hex bag. We’ll be there a couple of days tops. So, I guess I’ll give you a call if we need anything. See you later.” Sam turned his attention back to his laptop, leaving Dean to continue Operation Tire Out Cas, Go to the Concert and Win Over Claire. He would have to come up with a better name.

He led Cas out to the garage, holding the car door open for him whilst pointedly ignoring Cas’ questions. He continued to ignore Cas as he pulled out of the bunker and onto the open road. He let his hand slide down to Cas’ knee as the speedometer pushed 75 miles per hour before he bothered to reply.

“We’re taking a day trip. I have cabin fever, you’ve been working almost nonstop on that new case and really both of us could use a break from the yelling.” Dean noted Cas’ grimace, taking it as an agreement about the yelling. “So, where to? It’s your choice.”

Cas considered it for a moment, clearly weighing up his options as he stared out of the window. “You’re really letting me choose? You’re not going to argue with my choice, even if you disagree? You really won’t tease me for my choice?” Dean rolled his eyes but drew a cross over his heart with his right hand all the same. This seemed to satisfy Cas’ questions. “Then I know exactly where. There’s this place that I found recently whilst researching a case. I’ve been wanting to visit for a while now, but haven’t really had the chance. I’ll direct you.“

And direct he did. Until Dean pulled into a car park, about an hour later. After a quick stretch of his legs, Dean glanced around to see where on God’s earth Cas had brought him. Not even the dull ache in Dean’s shoulder managed to dampen his grin after reading the sign above him. The Magic Wings Butterfly House. Of course. Still, as Cas nervously peered over the roof, just waiting for the teasing to begin, Dean couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty. They were only there so Dean could later do the exact thing Cas asked him not to. For a second, Dean considered texting Claire and calling the whole thing off. His train of thought was soon broken by Cas gently tugging on his sleeve, urging him towards the butterfly house with the enthusiasm of a young child, expelling any thoughts other than ‘Cas’ from his mind.

Dean would never, ever admit to this to a soul but that afternoon spent in the butterfly house was one of those afternoons you always remember until the day you die. There was something about the heavy humidity of the place, curling even the straightest of hair and giving everyone’s faces an intense sheen of sweat, that prodded at Dean’s heart just a little bit. Or maybe it was the pure delight on Cas’ face the first time one of the patterned creatures landed on his arm, (“Dean. Look, look at my arm! It landed on me!”) or maybe it was his shocked bark of laughter when one of the fragile fuckers set up residence slap bang in the middle of Dean’s forehead. There was a chance this feeling so pure it hurt, came from the sight of Cas lapping at an ice cream. It had taken Dean a good ten minutes to convince him to try it.

“But Dean, I don’t need the food. I don’t eat. I don’t see the appeal of frozen milk.”

“Cas, just try it. Trust me, it’ll be so worth it. You’ll love it!”

Cas had eventually begrudgingly admitted that Dean was right. The sun was just setting when they headed back to the bunker, indicating to Dean it was around 5pm. With four hours to kill, Dean knew exactly what had to be done back at the bunker. As soon as they pulled up, Dean gave a list of the most mind numbingly dull tasks to Cas. These were the tasks Dean knew full well tired Cas out the most, due to the complete lack of thought needed. He asked him to fold the laundry, to restack books in the library, to wash up the dirty dishes and every time Cas passed Dean and gave him a small smile or a yawn, that uncomfortable guilt burrowed just a little further into Dean’s gut.

At 7:30, Cas passed Dean with his third load of laundry and a fairly large yawn. Dean’s resolve broke.

“Cas I think you’re done now, thank you for the help. Come watch a movie with me?” This was the final, albeit unplanned, phase of the plan. Cas didn’t get tired much. He was still an angel, despite his failing grace. It took a long, emotionally wrought day or a seemingly endless list of tasks or just a night alone with Dean to make him feel even remotely sleepy. But, after many hours of research, Dean had discovered a secret weapon. Animated movies. Not the good ones like the Incredibles or Finding Nemo. Something more along the lines of Despicable Me 2 or Madagascar 3. There was nothing quite like two hours of those irritating yellow tic-tacs to send Castiel off to sleep. Dean suspected it was down to frustration.

“I can speak every single language ever spoken on earth and in heaven. I cracked the Enigma Code before the Germans had even written it. I watched as the first word was grunted. But these little yellow specks don’t even make sense! They’re speaking gibberish, Dean!” It was at this point Cas gruffly crossed his arms and shut his eyes, clearly sulking. The plan was working. Cas was practically asleep, burrowed into Dean’s side. His face still wore an expression of irritation although the lines formed softened considerably as Dean caressed his side lovingly. Dean had done his part, now it was down to Claire and her acting skills. They were surprisingly good.

At 9pm Cas was, by all definitions of the word, asleep. Every now and again he stirred to complain about the movie, often calling the minions blasphemous, but for the most part he was breathing heavily, with his eyes shut, against Dean’s lap. Dean was seconds away from suggesting bed time when thundering footsteps jerked him awake.

“Are you happy now Castiel? It’s barely even dark out and I’m in my freaking pyjamas. What’s the point in even being young if you don’t ever let me do anything? I might as well be old like you two sad, losers falling asleep at Despicable Me. I mean come on, that’s just ridiculously sad. I’m going to bed before the two of you ruin my life even more.” With a very Regina George speech and additional hair flick, she turned and flounced out the room. It was very convincing. Apparently, that was all Cas was waiting for. As soon as Claire’s door audibly slammed shut, he stood up and stretched widely.

“I think I’ll go to bed too, Dean. Coming?“ He reached out a hand and pulled Dean to his feet.

This was something Dean should have prepared for. He’d never been a cuddler, before Cas. Never. Traditionally, the only time Dean wanted to share a bed with someone was sex, usually sleeping as far away from the other person as physically possible afterwards. But with Cas it was different. Dean was more than happy, eager even, to just sleep next to him. It was getting to the point where he’d choose staying in bed with Cas over pretty much anything. And both of them knew this, so Dean knew he had to be careful with his answer.

“Actually, I’m gonna be a few hours. Baby was kinda making some funny noises on the drive back, like a rattling sound. I wanna check her out and fix her up before it turns into a real problem, might go for a little test drive when I’m done. I’ll be as quiet as possible. Goodnight, Cas.” He pulled him in for a brief kiss, half for pleasure and half to wipe the guilt inducing look of concern off Cas’ face that almost had him chickening out. He gave Cas a good ten minutes to get to bed as he tidied and fretted about the kitchen, before shooting a quick text to Claire.

Garage. 2 minutes. Stay Quiet. - D

Dean waited anxiously in the Impala. He was absolutely convinced that there’d be a whoosh of wings and Castiel’s feathery ass would be right there in Impala, bitching Dean out for breaking his trust. Thankfully, the only sound in the garage was the slow creak as Claire yanked open the car door with entirely too much force and the even louder slam as used her full body weight to pull it shut. Still wary of any sounds, Dean simply shot her look of annoyance and pulled out the garage as quietly as possible, keeping the revs low and coasting out onto the road. 

The drive there was just as fast as Dean promised. In her excitement for the concert, Claire completely forgot to hate him. She didn’t exactly speak to him, but there was no shouting or even glaring. In fact, when his totally real and legitimate ‘backstage pass’ got Claire right up against the front barricade, she actually hugged him. An awkward side hug but a hug all the same. The music was a little too much pop, not quite enough punk or rock for Dean’s tastes but the sheer volume combined with the excitement of just being away from the bunker was entertainment enough. There was a tangible buzz in the air; a mixture of sweat, excitement and the thrum of the bass vibrating through the floor. Not one person left the event without ringing ears. The car ride home was special. Maybe not from an outsiders point of view but to him, and Claire too Dean suspected, it was a big turning point. Claire spoke enthusiastically about the concert, raved about the burgers they stopped for and ranted about her favourite bands the whole way home. Dean listened to every word with a smile on his face, relishing every new detail he learned about her. To his surprise, the two were very similar. 

They were both still laughing about an incident at the concert when the impala rumbled back into the garage. They both stopped laughing the second the headlights illuminated the figure of an extremely pissed off Castiel. He was in his pyjamas, flannel pants and an old t shirt of Deans, which would usually be incredibly endearing. However, when paired with an expression of smitey anger and a pair of arms crossed so tightly they appeared to be bursting at the seams, the pyjamas were nothing less than terrifying. No one moved for a good two minutes. The two in the car barely breathed for fear of triggering an explosive reaction. Eventually, when it was clear that neither Cas nor Claire would make the first move, Dean sucked it up and pushed the door of the Impala open. 

He approached Cas, hands raised in surrender. “Look Cas, I know-”

“I’ll deal with you after, Dean. Claire, could you come here? Please.” His face remained steely as Claire walked, incredibly slowly, towards them. He only spoke once she was level with Dean, their faces both matching images of fear.  “I don’t ask much of you. In fact, this may be the only thing I’ve ever asked you not to do. It wasn’t to ruin your life, it was because I was worried about you. When you asked me, I did some research and found these events could be very dangerous. You have no idea how worried I’ve been. I’m so disappointed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Claire’s cheeks were tinged an intense pink as Cas explained himself, intensifying to a burning red shame as he stated his disappointment. “I’m really sorry, Cas. Night, Dean.” 

Despite the guilt, Dean couldn’t help the rush of pride he felt when Claire actually acknowledged him in a pleasant manner. Cas also seemed shocked at the interaction, even completing a rare double take as Claire retreated. There was a continued silence once Claire left and Cas led Dean towards their shared bedroom. Cas shut the door behind them, leaning against it for a second as Dean began to change into his own pyjamas. 

“Was Claire actually nice to you? Did you have a good night? I know I’m supposed to be angry but I’m curious.” He was still leaning back against the door, arms crossed but the steely expression was replaced with a small smirk. 

Dean was still struggling to get dressed, hopping about with one leg in his pyjama pants. “Huh? Yeah, Cas, the night was good. Listen, I know you didn’t want her to go and I know you didn’t want me to take her and I know I lied to you, even though we promised not to do that shit anymore, and I’m sorry for the lies but I’m not sorry for taking her. Look Cas, something had to give. We were arguing all the freaking time, she hated me and -” 

“Thank you, Dean. Thank you for finding a way to connect. I would have preferred it if there were some other, less anxiety inducing way for the two of you to bond but I don’t know why I expected anything less than blatant disregard for rules from either of you.” He pushed off the door, approaching Dean, “Obviously I’m going to act mad at you the second we step outside this room, don’t expect me to do any chores for at least a month and please do your hardest to keep the peace with Claire. I’ve been up half the night worrying." There was a short pause for an adorable yawn, "We’re both tired. Goodnight Dean, love you.” 

He placed a chaste kiss against Dean’s lips before climbing into bed and switching out the lights, leaving Dean dumbfounded but grinning in the dark.