Sam and Cas Bingo

The coach pulled up, and Dean waited as patiently as he could. This was going to be one of the most important moments of his life. When his father told him that his brother was coming home, Dean was shocked. For starters, while he vaguely remembered having a little brother when he was small, he’d never been told what happened to his brother after the fire. He had eventually decided that his brother died and nobody had wanted to try to explain that to a small child already dealing with losing his mother and being sent to live with an aunt and uncle instead of a stepmother.

His brother – he couldn’t even remember the name for sure; Sammy kept coming to mind but he’d also had an imaginary friend he called Sammy when he was small – should be somewhere around twenty-one. That could explain the timing; now that he was of age, he was free to do what he liked instead of what whoever ended up as his guardian told him to do. Another explanation was that he was coming home to join the family business, having finished whatever education he was provided.

There were several passengers disembarking; most of them Dean disregarded. There was a family and his half-brother, who was bringing a couple of friends home from school. Normally, he’d have at least greeted Adam; today was different because of the friends and being here to meet his brother. Adam was not excited at all about the new brother; he and Dean already barely got along.

The last passenger to step off was a young man traveling alone with several bags. He looked around, as if looking for someone to meet him. Although the man didn’t look at all like him or his father or his fuzzy memories of his mother – he was certain he’d have remembered if she had eyes that blue – there were no other passengers on this coach. “Are you looking for Winchester?”

The look on the man’s face was a delight. “I am. It’s good to meet you in person, Mr. Winchester.”

“Great!” Since finding out about his brother, Dean had spent most of his free time imagining this moment. Would he recognize his brother? There was no way his brother would remember him. Would they have things to talk about and fall into an easy friendship, or would it be awkward and stilted and worse than meeting a stranger? The one thing he’d never imagined was finding his brother attractive. All the speeches, all the questions, nothing felt right to say next. Eventually, he found his way to, “Call me Dean.”

The man shot a strange glance at him, but didn’t say anything as Dean led him to the carriage. Once everything was loaded, the silence felt even stranger. Eventually, Dean couldn’t take it anymore. “Did you have a pleasant trip?”

“Not really.” For a moment, Dean was afraid that the silence would come back, but then he spoke again. “It was made somewhat more pleasant by the thought of what might be waiting at the end of it. The employment is far better than what my uncle had planned for me, and I am very glad to be out of the city.”

“What did your uncle want you to do?” Who was this uncle Dean hadn’t heard of? If he was close enough to take in John’s son, why hadn’t he taken Dean? Aunt Ellen and Uncle Bill hadn’t taken him because John had already given him to a different relative, Ellen had explained when Dean asked her after learning about his brother. Why had John separated them? Questions for his dad, if he could ever get the notoriously closed-mouthed man to answer a damn thing for once in his life.

“I’m not certain, but I never really fit in with his family. I was the charity case who killed his mother, you know. He would have found a position that wouldn’t shame the family, but it would never have been anything like what your father is offering.”

“You shouldn’t have been treated like a charity case,” Dean said with a frown. The wording struck him as odd, but then, Aunt Ellen had always made sure that not only did Dean know who his father was, he knew the man himself. If his brother hadn’t had that, meeting John wouldn’t be any less weird than meeting Dean. “I never was.”

“I’m aware of my uncle’s deficiencies of human decency and kindness, believe me,” he said with a grim smile. “It’s why I was so grateful to receive this invitation upon finishing school. What do you do?”

“Dad put me in charge of managing the Campbell inheritance. Mom’s land,” he added as he realized that his brother might not even know their mother’s name. “Dad hasn’t told me much about you. What should I call you?”

“Castiel.” Dean stared blankly. How had he ever forgotten that name? Where had his parents even come up with it? “Yes, I know. It’s odd. My grandfather has a policy where he will pay any boarding school or university fees for any of his descendants, provided they are named for an angel.”

“I… see.” So the question of his brother’s name was back. Had their uncle changed his name so he could be covered under this grandfather’s policy? Would John encourage him to change it back now? “Did you enjoy boarding school?” Dean had enjoyed it, even though it was a struggle.

Castiel’s stories about boarding school and university lasted the rest of the drive to the estate, and Dean was glad to see it. The more he talked, the worse Dean’s attraction got. This was going to be really awkward.

John was, as usual, in his library. “Dad, I’ve got Castiel here.”

“Castiel?” John looked up, frown relaxing as he looked over Castiel. “Ah. Yes. Castiel. I’m sorry, my mind was somewhere else entirely. I hope your journey wasn’t too terrible.”

“The weather favored us, and the horses were swift. Thank you.”

“Dean, thank you for bringing him. Your Aunt Ellen and cousin Jo arrived earlier; I know you’ll want to see them as soon as possible.” Dean took the hint and left the room, trying not to be too disappointed. Shouldn’t he be included in the family reunion or discussion of the family business?

John kept Castiel busy all day, seeing to getting him settled in personally. Dean was expected to handle the business that came up, and there was enough of it that Dean didn’t get the chance to talk to Castiel again before bedtime. First thing in the morning, John was waiting for him. “Son, you need to take the carriage back into town. We’re expecting someone.”

“And when do I get to spend any time at all with Castiel?” Dean grumbled, but he was already turning to go. He saw John raise an eyebrow, but as his father didn’t say anything, he decided not to push his luck. John left without another word, and only as he was heading into town did Dean realize he didn’t know anything other than “another passenger.” For all he knew, he was supposed to be picking up Adam and his friends after they spent the night in town. He hadn’t heard Adam come in.

He got there just as the stagecoach was pulling in. His eyes were drawn immediately to the very tall young man who stepped off behind an old woman and the three young women – probably her daughters. He was quite noticeable, with his hair worn wild and somewhat longer than fashions in the area. John was going to hate it. This man was followed by two others, who immediately took off together, so this was likely the man he was looking for.

Up close, Dean could see his eyes, and his greeting died in his throat. So many colors to analyze! Plus, this one wasn’t his brother. The reminder of the brother waiting at home got Dean’s mouth working again. He cleared his throat. “Are you looking for Winchester?”

“I am.” He looked Dean over closely. “You can’t be John Winchester, so you must be his son Dean? Forgive me, but I assume you take after your mother?”

“That’s what everyone says,” Dean agreed. “Come on, let’s get to where fewer people are staring at us. We can talk on the road.”

Transferring the luggage to the carriage went quickly. As soon as they were out on the road, the stranger was back to staring at Dean. “I’m so nervous. Uncle Bobby prepared me as well as he could for this, but he neglected to tell me… but then, I suppose he wouldn’t have known, you can’t have been more than four the last time he saw you. I’m so… is Castiel here? I know we were trying to arrange our travel so we’d arrive close to the same day. I ran into some bad roads after bad weather…”

“You know Castiel?” So that’s who this guy was. A friend of his brother’s. A bit of a surprise that Castiel hadn’t mentioned bringing a friend from school with him, but then, clearly John knew about this. “He arrived yesterday. Dad promptly monopolized him.”

“Well, that’s hardly fair.” He pouted, and it was adorable. “I still haven’t met him in person. My friend Jess from school had a friend at Castiel’s school, and they encouraged us to start writing to each other. At first, it was just a way to practice penmanship and letter writing, since neither of us had much family. Well, Castiel had quite a large family, but not one that he cared to write to. I just had Uncle Bobby. Over time, we started pouring out our hearts to each other, and by the time we were ready to leave the university, he knew he would rather go with me than back to his family.”

The horrible uncle, Dean reminded himself. This was not his brother rejecting him, this was a rejection of the horrible uncle. He was also quite curious on whether he was reading too much into it or if his brother had a male lover. Did John know about this? It was also quite disappointing – two of the most beautiful men he’d ever met, and one turned out to be his brother and the other his brother’s lover. “Well, Dad is probably going to monopolize you today. No idea if he’ll include Castiel or not, but even if he does, you’ll be busy.”

“That’s okay. As long as he keeps his word, I don’t imagine we’ll have much problem, and according to Uncle Bobby, that’s one thing you can count on with John Winchester. He doesn’t give his word lightly, but when he does, he means it.”

“Yeah, that’s about right. Keeps his word about what, if you don’t mind me asking?”

His passenger chewed his lip, staring hard at Dean. He was just about to make a comment about that lip deserving much better treatment when he said, “Castiel and I are extremely close. He gave his word that we would not be forced into some respectable marriage or to live apart. If being together spoils the relationship, that’s one thing, but he gave his word that we would be allowed to try.”

So they were in love. Interesting, if somewhat disappointing. “I’m glad to hear that,” he only sort of lied easily. “So tell me about school.” As with Castiel, the topic was broad enough to last until they got to the estate.

John and Castiel were at the door to meet them, instead of Dean having to take his passenger to the library. “Welcome home,” John said. “Please, come with me to the library. Castiel, Dean, come along, please.”

Dean followed eagerly. Finally, some answers. Once they were settled, John cleared his throat. “Let me reiterate my promise, Sam. You and Castiel are welcome to be together, and while I do hope you’ll be discreet in front of strangers, how you boys conduct your affair is your business. The story around the estate is that my son brought his close friend with him from school because there was enough work here for three men and his own family was unlikely to provide nearly as good an opportunity. Dean, it’s my hope that you and your brother and his partner will grow close and continue to work together. When Adam comes of age…”

“We’ll include him, Father,” Sam said.

Dean got to his feet. “Wait. What?”

Sam stared at him. “He is our brother, Dean. Admittedly, I haven’t met him, but…”

“No, not that,” Dean said. “Of course I’m including Adam as part of the family. Go back to where you’re the one who’s my brother and not Castiel.”

Sam grinned. “Oh, that explains a lot. I assume you got here yesterday, Castiel?” After confirmation, Sam continued, “I was supposed to be here yesterday, too, but there was a huge storm on the second day of the trip, and the mud made for extremely slow going. I can see where you’d have made assumptions…” He turned back to Castiel. “Although not why you would play along with him thinking you were me.”

“He never specified that he thought I was you,” Castiel said quietly. “John kept me quite busy yesterday, planning the house he intends to build for the two of us and going over the estate accounts with me.”

“I didn’t want your brother developing an interest in your man,” John explained without Sam’s prompting. “He’s a good man, he would feel horrible when he discovered the truth.”

“Well. Dean, I’m your brother. My name is Sam. I’m guessing you forgot since you were four when we were separated?” Dean nodded wordlessly. “Father, Uncle Bobby never would give me an answer other than to ask you when the time came. He was willing to take Dean, too, so why did you separate us?”

John looked between his boys. “This doesn’t leave this room, understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Dean said immediately. Sam nodded.

“You too, Castiel. You need to hear this, but it cannot reach any other ears.”

“I will not speak or write of this to anyone who is not presently in this room,” Castiel promised.

“The night Mary died, she showed me an old family journal. A great-great-grandmother had written down her dreams, and many of them came true over the years. Mary had consulted the journal and realized that one of the dreams was coming due – the one where she died in a fire. There was only one other dream left to come true, and the dream included the names Sam and Dean. I’ll admit I was skeptical, who wouldn’t be, but…”

John’s voice choked up, and Dean couldn’t blame him. He’d never talked this much about Mary to Dean. Everything he knew about Mary came from Aunt Ellen or Uncle Bill. John cleared his throat and continued, “The night of the fire, Mary gave me the journal and made me promise that I would still love you boys and support you, no matter what. I’ve read the remaining dream. The two of you, along with a third man – I assume you, Castiel – were facing down a man threatening to expose you two as lovers.”

Sam and Dean exchanged looks. Dean could not speak. He had so many questions right now. Castiel, thankfully, recovered quickly. “I find myself questioning your wisdom, in that case. Separating them would make it more likely, not less likely, since you were planning to bring Sam home after he finished his education.”

John grimaced. “I’ll admit, at first, I had no such intention. It wasn’t personal, Sam. You wouldn’t remember me. Dean would. It was easier to think of giving you up. If Bobby had changed your name like I told him to and raised you as Sam Singer or Sam Campbell, I could have brought you home and just hope no one thought anything of Dean taking on an assistant who happened to share a name and an age with his deceased little brother. Bobby convinced me to wait a year, and by then, I’d thought better of it.”

“Okay, but… why?” Sam asked. “Why bring me back at all?”

“Because…” John shook his head. “Your mother believed that those dreams were happening for a reason. I don’t know what it was, but she told me that even her death would lead to something important and wonderful.”

“So hold on one second,” Dean said. “You know that I’m going to be involved with my brother, but you did everything you could to prevent me from developing an interest in his lover?”

“I don’t know what’s going to happen with Castiel,” John said. “I’m not certain that he’s the third man in the dream. For all I know, he and Sam might decide that being together was much better in letters than it is in person. If he is, if he stays, then it was clear he knew about the two of you. Whatever you figure out between the three of you, that’s your decision, but I didn’t want things starting off on the wrong foot.” He cleared his throat. “And now, I’m going to go handle some business and let the three of you get to know each other.”

Once John was gone, Castiel reached out to Sam. “The dreams you’ve been recording. Do you think you may have inherited your ancestress’s powers?”

“It’s possible,” Sam said hoarsely. “In which case, I think I know who was threatening us.” He looked to Dean. “There’s a man. In my dreams, he’s called Azazel, but he seems determined to get hold of a Winchester. At first, I kept a record just because those dreams were intensely vivid, but then I had a dream come true. My friend Jess, who I mentioned is the one who got me writing to Castiel, died last November. I dreamt it the night before, and tried to convince him to be anywhere but his dorm on the night of his death, but I couldn’t. He burned in a fire. Like our mother.”

Dean shivered. “Any idea how to stop him?”

“None. I do know that we can expect to meet him in person – the three of us – at some point. That’s all I saw in that dream, but I heard our names. That’s what convinced me to copy out my journal to include in my letters to Castiel, and when we started truly getting close.” He forced a deep breath. “It’s all leading to something, but I don’t have enough puzzle pieces to know what.”

The crying was unusual, to say the least. A child’s tears were almost never heard in this part of the compound. Rachel gently brushed off the kid’s wings. “You’re okay, Jack. You did really well, until you got distracted. Can you tell me what distracted you?”

“Him.” Jack pointed to Gadreel, who had entered the training area while Jack was supposed to be flying a lap. “Not-Daddy.”

“All right. Are you hurt?”

Jack took a minute to sniffle while he thought it over. Then he shook his head. “I’m ready to try again if you are.”

“Sounds good. Now, remember, you need to focus on your wings while you’re flying. If someone comes in, even if it’s Castiel or Michael or Gadreel or Sam, they don’t want to interrupt your training. If they do need to interrupt your training, they know to come through me first. You just fly. Okay?”

“Okay!” Jack got to his feet. “Wait. Can I go say hello to Not-Daddy first?”

Rachel swallowed hard. “Jack, Gadreel isn’t your father. While he likes you well enough, he doesn’t think of you as a son. If he came in here, it’s to do his own training. You should let him focus so that he can finish what he needs to do and be your daddy again.”

“But I never get to talk to Not-Daddy,” Jack pouted. “Please?”

“No, Jack. He’s focused, and you need to be too.” Rachel put her hands under his arms. “On three. Ready?” Jack’s muscles tensed up. “One… two… three!” She tossed Jack into the air, and his wings spread as he aimed himself toward the thermal vent.

After Jack finished a lap, he came toward Rachel, who caught him and helped him land safely. “Much better! You did a good job up there, Jack!”

“Thank you! But I need to get better, don’t I?”

“There’s always room for improvement, but you can’t force it. According to the training plan, you’re doing better than Naomi expected from you at this point when it comes to flying. You’re doing very good at learning to turn and to use the thermals to help yourself get higher. Naomi’s plan has you staying on turning drills for the rest of the day, so we should do a few more of those, but if you do well we can do something fun at the end of your time, okay?”

“Okay.” Jack straightened his back and spread his wings, resettling them in position for takeoff. “I’m ready when you are!”

After a few more laps, Jack touched down. Rachel ruffled his hair. “All right. What…”

“Sorry to interrupt.” Rachel and Jack both turned to stare at Gadreel. “Rachel, I overheard you promise Jack a reward instead of having to stick with Naomi’s drills, if he did well. Did he perform satisfactorily?”

“He did,” Rachel confirmed. She tried not to let her hopes show. If she was wrong, she didn’t want Jack to be disappointed. “Do you have something in mind?”

“With your permission, I would like to take Jack for a short flight with me. Flying in formation is an advanced skill, one Jack might not be ready for, but I suspect he would enjoy trying.” He turned to Jack. “Castiel was supposed to join me for my drills, and he will, but he’s running a bit late because of a meeting with Michael. Would you like to join me until he can arrive?”

Jack squealed and turned to Rachel. “Can I? Please? I’d like that better than any other reward, even nougat!”

“You may. Be careful, if Gadreel tells you to do something then listen to him, and don’t get distracted when Castiel arrives.” Rachel smiled as Jack squealed and ran in place.

Gadreel helped Jack launch, and then took off himself. It was clear that he was challenging himself to match Jack’s flight, instead of trying to lead, which made more sense anyway. Castiel walked in while they were weaving through some rings. “Rachel?”

“It was Gadreel’s idea. I don’t know if it’s Gadreel honestly taking to the kid finally or Sam bleeding through, but it was Gadreel’s idea.”

“This explains why he texted me to ask me to be late, I suppose,” Castiel mused. “I have to admit to some concern… one of the things Bardiel mentioned might happen is that Jack would be able to warp reality. If he… it’s possible that somehow Jack is controlling Gadreel somehow.”

Rachel pursed her lips. “It’s possible, but he’s been concentrating so hard on his flying, I don’t think it’s likely. At least, not on purpose. If you’re worried, you can always ask Raphael to check them out, but…”

She trailed off as Gadreel touched down in front of her, reaching out his hands to catch Jack. Jack ran to Castiel for a hug. “Did you see me? Rachel says I’m getting good at turning, and Gadreel and I managed to go through the whole ring sequence together!”

“I did see you. Be sure to thank Gadreel for flying with you, Jack.”

“Oh, right!” Jack turned back to Gadreel. “Thank you for flying with me. I had a lot of fun.”

“You’re quite welcome. You’re getting very good.” Gadreel looked to Castiel as Rachel took Jack off. “Shall we?”

“Why did you fly with him?” Castiel asked. “Forgive the bluntness, but I have concerns.”

“If Jack did something to me, I’m not aware of it,” Gadreel promised with a smile. “He’s a good kid. Just because I don’t feel a paternal bond doesn’t mean he’s not a brother or nephew, and providing a special treat seemed like an appropriate way to bond with him without getting his hopes up that he should consider me a father.”

“I’ve told you,” Sam said as patiently as he could to the three-year-old. “I don’t know how you’re managing to summon me, but I can’t help you.”

Can’t or won’t? Dean’s voice was clear in the back of his head, but it was easily told to shut the hell up, that it didn’t matter. Sure. He had the power to either provide a demon or force a human to be this boy’s daddy, but he refused to force a human into anything, and the few demons who might be actual decent choices for the role, he refused to force into it or force the boy’s father to accept.

“But I have an idea!” the boy persisted. “No demon. No human. You!”

Sam was so thrown by that he couldn’t think of any retort. For starters, depending on who you asked, he was either a demon or a human. Then there was the fact that as King of Hell, he was just a little busy to be adopting a child and coparenting with a fallen angel. And that was before getting into the six hundred sixty-six reasons why Castiel would absolutely refuse unless Sam magically compelled it, and why he would never do that to Castiel.

“Jack.” Castiel’s exasperated voice came from the doorway. “There you… oh.” He drew his blade. “What are you doing here, Winchester?”

“Your son’s been summoning me,” Sam explained as non-threateningly as he could say it. “He wants a daddy to help you raise him, since you’ve been struggling on your own, and…”

“He can be my daddy and your partner!” Jack finished. “He can handle my outbursts! He keeps answering summons!”

“Jack. A summons, for a creature of Heaven or Hell, is not easily disobeyed. You’re not asking your friend Maggie to come over after playgroup, you are commanding them to obey. Do you understand?”

“Yes. No. I know it’s not an invitation.” Jack looked up at his father. “It’s a wish. See?” He held out a dandelion stem. “I wished for a daddy and blew, and then Sam was here.”

Castiel took the dandelion from his son, studying it intently. He held it out to Sam. “Do you know any reason why this would compel you…?”

Shaking his head, Sam took the stem and let his power flow into it. “There’s none. Not even a cambion’s reality warping where what they believe comes true even if it’s otherwise nonsense.” He had some research to do when he got back to Hell, it seemed.

Castiel took the stem back, fingers brushing against Sam’s. “I assume that you could, if you chose, force a mate on me. Summon a demon, pick a human, possibly even snare an angel.”

“I could. Dean would help me get an angel, if I really wanted one. Not doing it, though. I know I’ve explained free will several times to Jack. It may not come naturally to you, but then again, you fell.”

“For Jack!” Castiel shouted. “He needed…”

“Castiel.” Sam reached out a placating hand, stopping just short of putting it on Castiel’s arm. “I agree with your choice. I’m just saying that free will doesn’t come naturally to angels, so for you to have chosen to fall, you have to have found it somewhere deep within yourself. I can’t take that away from you now, no matter how badly Jack wants a daddy and wants you to have a partner.”

Castiel stared at Sam for what felt like ages. “Jack, go to your room. You’re not in trouble. I just need to speak with Sam about adult things.”

“Okay!” Jack ran off, turning around to hit Sam with some of the most hopeful puppy eyes he’d ever seen. “Bye, Mr. King of Hell!”

“Jack overheard me talking to Dean,” Castiel began as soon as the door was closed behind Jack. “Dean thinks that if I’m going to live a human life, I need to explore all humanity has to offer. Specifically, he encouraged me to ‘go get laid’, and I told him I didn’t see that happening. I have no interest. Dean said that would make it hard to find someone to help me with Jack, and that’s when Jack began seeking a way on his own.”

“Ugh. I’ll tell him off for you. First off he’s wrong, you totally can find someone…” Sam even had an idea. A demon. She might not take well to the lack of sexual interest, but the rest of it she’d probably be okay with.

“That’s not why I’m telling you that.” Castiel glanced at the doorway. “I’m telling you because although Jack is far too many steps ahead with wanting you to be his daddy, it seems he might have been onto something with the idea that you might be a good choice for the role. I know you’re busy, but I also know that much of your work is busywork you can hand off to lieutenants whenever you feel like. Supervised, of course, but I think it could work.”

Sam raised an eyebrow as he looked at the sandwich Castiel put in front of him. “What.”

“Dean told me that when he was a child, your mother would cut the crusts off of his sandwiches for him. He said that you had expressed jealousy that no one ever did that for you, in Heaven. I thought I would give it a try.”

“Okay, I get that, but…” Sam picked up the sandwich to examine. “Why a cat shape instead of just normal square?”

“There are two reasons. One, I wanted to talk to you about something cat-related.” Castiel wandered off, returning with a book.

Sam had eaten part of the sandwich, and he set the rest down as soon as Castiel was back. “You know no matter what, Dean won’t let us have a cat.”

“A real one, no, but that’s not what I was proposing.” Castiel opened the book, flipping to a section and handing it to Sam. “I was proposing turning myself into a cat. Dean probably would still object, but in this case, I thought you might be willing to stand up to him and say that he has no standing to override our decision.”

“Um…” Sam had a million objections, but he could at least read what Castiel had in mind before he expressed any of them. After all, Castiel was smart enough to have thought of them and have answers prepared, right?

The book was open to a ritual. In the ritual, a willing person could bind themself to a witch, taking on an animal form to serve as the witch’s familiar. In doing so, it would open a channel for the witch to draw on the familiar for greater power, control, focus, and even a way to share knowledge and thoughts. The main downside appeared to be a lack of privacy if the witch refused to honor their familiar’s mental barriers and the chance for a spell to backfire and cause damage to the familiar as well as – or instead of – the witch.

One of the ways to work around that was to bind yourself to your soulmate. The lack of privacy would already be there, and the risk of backfire would – for a decent witch – be a reason to avoid drawing too much power or doing something they were not in firm control of. It would be a way for Castiel to look after Sam when he couldn’t be along on a hunt, and to call for help himself if he needed it on his own hunt. Sam easily understood why Castiel would propose this.

“And you’re sure you’ll become a cat?”

Castiel nodded. “There are limited options, and while the preferences of the witch and the familiar-to-be can guide the selection, it can’t just make a new option. Between a cat, a toad, and a rat, I suspect we can agree that a cat is the preferable outcome.”

“Yeah.” Sam set the book aside, smiling. “Even Dean’s objections would be more about me embracing my witch side more than you turning into a cat, because as a familiar you wouldn’t be allergen producing. He’s accepting me turning into a Man of Letters, but the witch thing is still weirding him out a bit.”

“You’ve made it clear that what you’re doing is nothing like what the witches you hunt do, and he just needs to get his head around it. So? Are you agreed?”

“Yeah… we’ll need to get some things together, but I’m all for it. Catstiel is a go.” Sam leaned over and kissed Castiel’s cheek, and then picked up his sandwich. Seeing the cat ear reminded him. “What’s the other reason?”

“Hmm?”

“You said there were two reasons for the cat sandwich. One was to start the conversation about you signing on as my familiar. What’s the other one?”

Dean knocked on Sam’s door, and Sam groaned.  Dean had promised he could handle the interview process without him, and that Sam was free to spend the time with his manuscripts, copying as much as he could before having to set sail for the spring.  Every interruption might mean leaving some priceless information behind.  No one else on the ship could read, so it was up to Sam to do the scribework, and he was tired, cranky, his hand hurt, his eyes hurt, his head hurt, and now he was getting interrupted on top of everything.  “WHAT.”

Dean came in, closing the door behind him.  So it was going to be one of those Serious Talks.  Just what Sam needed.  “So.  The interviews for the new weather manipulator, since the old guy got killed on that raid.  I’ve got it down to two candidates…”

“And you can choose based on whatever criteria you want, as long as they can get the job done I have no fucks to give,” Sam interrupted.  He smirked as something occurred to him.  “Even if you’re choosing on the basis of you think you might get to fuck one of them and not the other.  Can I get back to work now?”

“Dude, I can get laid whenever I want, so no.  It’s not about that.  Honestly, I wouldn’t mind bringing them both on board, so that we don’t have to fight our way back to land without any weather control at all if one goes down like we did last fall.  The thing is, one of them is someone specific, and I want your opinion on bringing him on your ship before you manage to get even more reclusive and awkward than you already are.”  Dean stuck out his tongue at Sam.  “C’mon, dude, you know I wouldn’t interrupt you at your studies when you’re this deep in the zone that you’re exhausted and grumpy unless I had a really good reason to.  I know you trust me to handle the people while you manage the navigation and knowing where targets will be and who we need to pay off to look the other way when we show up in port and all that stuff.  Show me the same trust that I know when you need to be involved, huh?”

“Fine.”  Sam carefully blew out the lamp – unattended flame in a room full of parchment was not a good idea – and followed Dean to the unusual captain’s quarters they had set up.  Most nights, Sam had it to himself, while Dean slept off his late-night carousing in the early morning while Sam was awake and could manage the ship while his brother got his four hours.  There were still two beds, each with privacy curtains, for when one or both had someone they wanted to impress.  That didn’t stop the rumors going around the seas, of course, but no one was brave enough to ask Dean or Sam directly.

As soon as Sam got in the room, he realized what Dean meant, and his mouth went dry.  He didn’t recognize the red-haired woman, but he did recognize the man in the long tan coat whose blue eyes were staring back in shock.

The memories came in flashes.  Watching the stars.  Frolicking in the waves.  Kissing in the rain.  Spending nights together while Dean was at sea.

Dean throwing punches because he thought Sam got taken advantage of.  His lover leaving for school, and spending days crying because he couldn’t go too.  The news that his lover had been killed at the school.

A hand on his shoulder brought Sam back to the present, and he looked up into Castiel’s face.  “They told me you were dead,” he whispered.  “For the past twenty years… I thought you were dead.”

“I came home for the summer after that first year, and you were gone,” Castiel whispered in response.  “Father and Uriel told me what they’d done to you, making up a story of how I’d been killed at school in the hopes of you doing exactly what you did and leaving town with your brother next time he came back.  I don’t blame you one bit.  You had no reason not to believe them.  I told my family to go to Hell and went right back to school, and I haven’t been home since, either.”

“I never wanted… Castiel, I…”  Sam closed his eyes, pressing an old scar on his left hand with his right thumb to ground himself.  “I’ve missed you for so long, I can’t believe you’re here.  Did you know I was on this ship when you came looking for the job?”

Castiel shook his head.  “Not exactly.  I saw that Dean was looking for a weather manipulator for his crew, and I figured if anyone would know what became of you after you left home it would be Dean.  Even if he wasn’t willing to take me on because he blamed me for your pain, I hoped he would at least tell me if you were well, if you’d managed to build yourself a good life in the years since.  Did you?  I remember you telling me that you never wanted to go into the family business, that you wanted to go to school like I was and do something respectable and safe instead of becoming a pirate, but you’re here with your brother.”

“I hated it, but with you gone… Dean was literally the only thing I had in the world,” Sam said.  “The more I got into the crew, into the job, the more I realized that I’m good at it and this is where I’m meant to be, and I am happy with it, now.  I sometimes think about the life we had planned, but you know me.  I was never the guy who got so focused on what I wanted but couldn’t have that I couldn’t appreciate what I did end up having.”

“That’s true.”  Castiel reached out and gently pushed a strand of hair out of Sam’s face, tucking it behind his ear.  “If I come on board, if I join the crew, would you be all right with that?”

Sam fought down the wave of panic.  If?  Castiel might leave again?  He pressed harder on his hand.  “Dean came and got me to give my approval, which means that the only if about that statement is me.  Castiel, if you leave again… I’m going to think this was some cruel dream.  I made myself a good life in a lot of ways, but the one thing I was never able to do.  I couldn’t.  I couldn’t move on from you.  You can’t come back to life and be right there in front of me and disappear again.  Please don’t do that to me.”

Mrs. Butters, of all people, was the one to figure out Sam’s secret after he'd had to leave Thanksgiving dinner early to hide his coughing - and more importantly, the buttercups that were coming up with it.  She tutted at him worriedly.  “It’s just a spell, dear.  Spells can be broken, if you just figure out who to kill or what to destroy or the appropriate counterspell.  The thing is, you can’t figure this out on your own.  Whoever cast this is good – whoever cast it didn’t want you to be able to solve it.”  Her smile turned a bit smug.  “Luckily for you, her spellwork doesn’t have any effect on my kind, and I worked with the Men of Letters.  I’ve seen this many times before.”

“Yeah?  What is it?”  Sam stared at the flowers slowly piling up on his desk.  “Don’t suppose you know how to break it?”

“Well… we’ll have to tell the others about it,” Mrs. Butters said as gently as she could, patting Sam’s arm.  “You know I can’t leave the Bunker, and no one here would have done this to you.  You’re family, and that means everything to them.”

Sam sighed.  That was the problem.  They were family.  Sam was the sick freak who didn’t deserve to be a part of this family, but as long as he could keep it secret, he at least wouldn’t get himself kicked out.  It would take a lot for Dean to tell Sam to get lost and lose his number, but finding out that his freak of a little brother was in love with him just might do it.  Finding out that that wasn’t enough for him, that the freak had to be in love with his boyfriend too?  That could put it over the top easily.

After the coughing fit passed, Sam looked miserably at Mrs. Butters.  “You can’t tell them.  If I die, they’ll find a way to get me back, and…”  Then he noticed that he was too late.  Mrs. Butters was gone.

Dean and Castiel listened to Mrs. Butters explain the situation.  When she finished, she glared between them.  “That boy is literally willing to die to keep this secret because he is so scared of being kicked out of the family over it.  I don’t know what the two of you have done to him over the years that made him think that could happen, but he’s probably packing right now because he knows I’m telling you everything.”

Castiel stared, brow furrowed.  “I don’t understand.  I know that many people believe that Dean and I are a romantic couple, but Sam, of all people?  Does he really think I would get into a romantic relationship with one Winchester and agree to keep it a secret from the other?  He knows how I feel about them keeping things from each other ‘in their best interests!’”

“This curse thingie,” Dean said slowly.  “You said it’s meant as a means of dissuading the people who have watched one too many movies where persistence wins the girl and think that all a guy has to do to convince a girl to date him or sleep with him is to keep bothering her.  I know Sam can take a no, and would be the first to throw hands with anyone else who couldn’t, so why the hell is he the one cursed?  This my fault?  I was kinda pushy with Glessie last month, but she seemed to be enjoying the pushiness instead of bothered by it.”

“She wouldn’t know how to cast such a difficult spell, either,” Castiel said.  “But remember two weeks ago, when we needed help from the witch Callie Hampton and she was reluctant to help a Winchester?  Sam was able to convince her to help, but she might have misinterpreted it.”

Dean stared blankly at Castiel.  “Callie Hampton.  The witch we needed help from who turned out to be working for the shifter all along.  The witch I ganked because she was trying to protect the shifter.”

“Not all spells end with the witch’s death,” Mrs. Butters said.  “So either you need to figure out her exact ritual, which would mean getting back to Oklahoma and finding her grimoire, or take the risk of letting Jack heal everything which could mean Sam forgetting the two of you, or…”

Dean rolled his eyes.  “I just wanted to know if there was someone I needed to gank after the two of us went and talked to Sammy and put him out of his misery,” he grumbled.  “Callie would certainly fit.  Sam got pushy, she thought he was coming onto her and figured this would get him to back off if she were right and wouldn’t hurt him if she were wrong, and was wrong again.  Come on, Cas, let’s go.”

“What happened to all the angst?  I believe the words ‘sick freak’ and ‘pervert’ have come up often in your prayers about it, and now…?”

“Now I know Sammy feels the same about me so at least he’s not gonna throw a punch if I say something, and I don’t give a shit about being a sick freak if he’s right there with me.  I’m not a predator, he’s not doing this to make me happy or because he knows it’s what I want and I don’t exactly take it well when he tries to do his own thing, and in case you missed it?  He’s fucking dying if I don’t tell him his feelings aren’t unrequited!  You think I’m gonna let Sammy die because I’m too chickenshit to own up to this?”  Castiel didn’t answer, so Dean walked out of the room.  Stupid angel anyway.

Sam rolled his eyes when he opened the door for Dean and Castiel.  “I told Mrs. Butters not to tell you about this.  This is too big to settle by hitting me and moving on, right?”

“Hitting you is not happening,” Castiel said firmly.  He reached out, gently brushing Sam’s hair back so that he could see his friend’s eyes.  “Hitting on you will, but first, Sam, please explain.  I can easily believe you’re aware of my feelings for Dean, but how could you ever believe that I would be in a romantic relationship with him without insisting that you be told?”

“Well… if you… I know you wouldn’t be happy about it, but Dean can be…” Sam stammered, cutting himself off.  “Dean, you know I love you, but you can be pushy when you want something, and Cas and I usually end up going along with it.”

“Yeah, that’s something we should probably work on,” Dean admitted.  He pulled Sam into a hug.  “Sammy, I can easily understand why you’d rather die than admit to this, because we could bring you back without this stupid curse and you and me could go on living with these goddamn secrets and killing ourselves over wanting what we can’t have.  Thing is?  Turns out, we can have it.  You, uh…”  Dean turned to Castiel.  “Dude, I’ve been doing my best to ignore your feelings for me, because I don’t return them.  Always hoped you and Sam would figure shit out and get together, because I know you like him too and he does feel the same way about you, so it’s better for the both of you.  I’m sorry, man, but…”

“I was aware,” Castiel said.  “I can’t help how I feel, but I never meant to make you feel obligated to do anything about them.  You can’t help how you don’t feel.  I understand.”

Sam looked between them.  “Wait, you’re not together?”

“No, we’re not,” Castiel said.  “And Sam, I hope that you won’t think that is the only reason I want to be with you.  Monogamy is an unnatural state for an angel.  I am willing to agree to it if that is what you want, but I don’t expect it of you.  If, knowing that your feelings for Dean are requited, you wish to be with him, I would not interfere with that or ask you to choose between us.”

“I’m okay with sharing you with Cas,” Dean said.  “Others, I don’t know about, but Cas is one of us.  He’s family.  Hell, the two of you are coparenting a kid.”

“You, uh… wait, what?” Sam said, eloquent as ever.  “What’s happening here?”

“You owe Mrs. Butters a thank you letter for telling us about your condition and your feelings, because Dean has already ganked the witch who did this, so this is your best hope for surviving,” Castiel said.  “It’s about the only thing that could have pushed you and Dean to admit your desire for one another, or for me to believe that your forgiveness of me extends far enough to love me in this way.”

Mrs. Butters tutted from the doorway.  “I’ll be giving the three of you some privacy to explore your new relationships, but I just wanted you to know that Sam’s going to be all right.  I felt the spell break.”

Coming home to the Winchesters meant expecting the unexpected.  They had all long since been disabused of the notion of the Bunker as a safe haven, a place to rest where the monsters couldn’t come, but it was still closer than anything else they could imagine.  That didn’t mean a spell couldn’t go wrong, or a fight couldn’t break out between the brothers or one of them and Jack, or a more human danger couldn’t get in.

When Castiel heard shouting, his immediate thought went to fight.  When he saw the dog, he had what he believed was a good guess as to what the fight was about.  He would side with Sam, of course; there was absolutely no reason not to have a dog and Sam would love to have one.  Then he noticed a couple small details.  First, Sam was not in the room that Castiel could see, although he could feel Sam’s soul.  Second, the dog was leaning against where Dean sat, with its head on Dean’s leg and its tail firmly curled under itself.  Third, Jack looked even more distressed as he tried snapping his fingers and whatever was supposed to happen didn’t.

“Where’s Sam?” Castiel asked.  “I can feel him…”

The dog picked its head up and hit Castiel with the saddest puppy eyes he’d ever seen, and yet, they were so familiar that Castiel immediately realized the answer to his question.  He crossed the room in three long steps and dropped to his knees to stroke Sam’s fur.  “Hello, Sam.”

Sam whined a little as he pressed into Castiel’s hands.  Jack dropped his head.  “I’m sorry, Castiel.  This is my fault.  Sam and Dean were doing their taxes and arguing…”

“I’m sorry, doing their taxes?”  Castiel stared blankly at Dean.  “You make a living off of petty theft and hustling pool.  Why are you doing taxes?”

“Well, y’know.  Taxes are how they took down Al Capone, and if I’m going down, I’m going down to something meaningful.  Grave desecration or murder or something.  Not goddamn tax evasion.”  Dean cleared his throat.  “Also, for the record, we do have a real steady income now.  Sam was digging through some of the old books and found bank records.  We’ve checked it out, the accounts are still active, and Sam nerded his way through getting us a legitimate income.  Which means we have to pay taxes now.”

“Anyway, Sam made a comment about how he wished he were a dog because dogs have easy lives… they don’t have to think about taxes.”  Jack looked up.  “I didn’t do it on purpose, but I was thinking about Sam as a dog, and… next thing I knew, he was one.”

“Well, as dogs go, this is quite a good effort for Sam.”  Castiel smiled at the eyeroll that followed.  Aside from the puppy eyes that were so deadly effective in Sam’s human face that translated perfectly to the dog, he was the same color as Sam’s hair, and just as soft and shaggy.  “That said, he doesn’t look happy in this form, so you should probably put him back.”

“I’m trying!” Jack shouted.  “I am, I swear, trying to get Sam back to normal!  It’s not working!”  Jack held out a hand again, and golden power swirled around it.  When he snapped his fingers, though, nothing happened.  Sam remained canine.

“Ah.  I see.”  Castiel reached out with his grace, attempting to reverse whatever Jack had done that caused Sam to be stuck in this form.  Nothing happened.  He couldn’t feel any residual grace in Sam from Jack’s work.  “Jack… I don’t think you did this.  It feels like… hmm.”  He concentrated.  “It feels like magic.  A curse.  Which is good news, because it means that we just have to figure out how to break the curse.”

“Oh, that’s easy then!”  Jack gathered power and snapped his fingers, and this time, Castiel pulled his hands away as Sam started to shift under him.  “I wasn’t looking for a curse before, but you were right, I found it.  I sent a little rebound with it, so that whoever put the curse on Sam will spend about thirty seconds as a dog themself, just to annoy them.  And hey, if we hear about it, I know who to go talk to about cursing my dad.”

“Thanks, Jack,” Sam said, voice a little raspy.  “I’m glad to be human again, even if it means I have to finish our taxes.”  He didn’t move, though, continuing to lean his head on his brother’s leg while Dean ran fingers through his hair.  “Or I could just say it can wait till tomorrow.  We were supposed to have movie night tonight, weren’t we?”

“We were.”  Castiel retrieved the box he’d brought in, which contained beer, popcorn, candy, and nuts.  “We hadn’t decided on a movie, though.  Any thoughts?”

“So help me, if anyone suggests Old Yeller, I am going to put my fist in their face,” Dean said.  “Any other dog movie, fine, get the jokes about Sammy out, but that one?  Do not.”

Sam’s eyes squeezed closed as he laughed.  “Shouldn’t that be my line?  I’m the one who’d be shot in that situation…”

“And I’m the one who’d be expected to shoot you and live with myself afterward, and you know damn well I couldn’t do it,” Dean grumbled.  “Not you.”

Jack looked over at Castiel.  “What’s Old Yeller?”

“It’s a movie about a dog.  The ending of the movie involves the teenage boy having to shoot his beloved dog after the dog begins exhibiting signs of rabies.  I’ve never seen it, but my understanding is that it’s a rite of passage and that it’s not only acceptable to cry, it’s expected.  Almost even required.”

“Oh.  Some other time, maybe, but not while Dean is still seeing Sam as a dog… although Sam wasn’t yellow.”

Sam cleared his throat.  “Forget dogs.  Let’s do an MCU marathon.  Or… Dean, would you throw a fit about Disney animation?  Aladdin, Hercules… you can handle Bambi, right?”

“That’s not Father.” The young boy hiding behind, presumably, his mother’s legs was only stating the obvious. Sam had no idea who he appeared to be, but it wasn’t himself. He was not in his own body, his own clothes, his own house, for all he knew his own city or country. This wasn’t his family. He hoped whoever’s body he was currently in was at least somewhat prepared for this the way a hunter would be; waking up in a civilian’s life was jarring, but a civilian waking up in Sam’s life was… potentially lethal, if he pissed off Dean enough.

Sam held out his hands, kneeling to make himself less scary to the little boy. “No. I am not your father. My name is Sam, and I don’t know what’s happened to your father, but I promise you that I’ll do everything I can to get him back where he belongs.” He looked up at the woman. “Can I borrow your phone to call my brother before he does something stupid when he works out that I’m not me?”

“Of… of course,” she said faintly, pulling her cell phone out of the pocket of her jeans. “Jack, come on, why don’t we give Sam some privacy?”

Jack looked up at her, eyes huge. “Can he come join us when he’s done with the call? He’s not Father, but he feels safe. Like Father does.”

“All right, then. Sam, when you’re done talking to your brother, we’ll be through there. If Jack says you’re safe, then I believe him.” She smiled and held out a hand. “Kelly Kline, and this is my son, Jack. ‘Father’ is Emmanuel Allen, and if you could find out how he’s doing, I’m sure Jack would appreciate whatever news your brother is willing to share.” She led Jack through the door she’d indicated earlier, and Sam dialed Dean’s number.

Dean picked up. “You had better be who I think you are, because if you’re not, then you’re part of my problem. You do not want to be part of my problem.”

“Dean, it’s me. It’s the one person who actually knows your real phone number instead of one of the burners you have for social media and dating sites and witness interviews, well enough to have it memorized even without his phone instead of relying on speed dial or contacts.” Sam heard Dean’s sigh of relief and grinned. “Let me guess, your problem is a guy named Emmanuel Allen who’s wearing my body.”

“No, my problem’s a guy named Castiel Milton wearing your body. Who the hell is Emmanuel?”

Sam closed his eyes, leaning Emmanuel’s head back against the wall. “Emmanuel Allen is the guy whose body I’m wearing. I guess Emmanuel’s wearing Castiel’s body? Or… I don’t even want to think about an or.”

There was a low rumbling voice on the other end of the phone, loud enough for Sam to hear but not enough to make out anything he was saying. “Or Castiel Novak is Emmanuel Allen’s real name, which he gave me because he recognized whose body he was in and thought it best to use instead of the civilian alias he’s been living under since taking in a complicated orphan,” Dean relayed. “Least this is simple enough. We get the two of you together and pop you back into the right bodies. He says his son can do it, even.” There was another low rumble, which Dean passed along as, “He says we’re about two hours away, and it won’t freak out Kelly too much. See you in an hour and a half.”

Sam laughed softly as he hung up, as he heard the rumbling voice protesting. When he got to the room where Kelly and Jack were, Kelly was holding Jack’s hands on needles and showing him how to do something with them. Jack had his tongue poked out in concentration, so Sam just watched until Kelly looked away and noticed him. “Oh! Sorry, I didn’t see you there! What’s the word?”

“Emmanuel and Dean are about two hours away, he thinks, but the way my brother drives it’ll probably be an hour and a half. Emmanuel thinks Jack can fix this, so they’re coming here. If that’s a problem, I can call them back and let you argue with them, but…”

Kelly shook her head. “If Emmanuel thinks Jack can do it, then I trust his judgment. He would never put Jack in a situation he didn’t think he could handle. While you’re waiting, feel free to grab a book, or if you’re at all into knitting, there’s plenty of yarn and needles. I’m teaching Jack.”

“I can teach you!” Jack said, finally looking up from the row he had just completed. “Well, I can teach you to cast on, and to knit. Purling is harder and I’m still working on getting comfortable.”

Sam smiled. “I used to knit when I was a kid. It gave me something to do on long car trips, and while my dad and brother both thought it was weird, it meant we always had blankets around.” He’d leave out the stories of breaking into hobby stores to steal supplies. A lot of his stuff had actually been donated by older knitters who were charmed by the young boy who was so eager to learn from them, but there had been theft involved. With Kelly’s permission, he found a ball of yarn and chose the appropriate needles. He wouldn’t have time to do much, especially if he had to relearn a lot since he didn’t have the muscles that had the memories, but it might be nice to get back into knitting anyway.

Jack watched Sam’s clumsy fumbling with the needles with curiosity, but didn’t say anything about it. Instead, he started talking about kindergarten, telling Sam all about his friends and his teacher and the things he was learning there. By the time the doorbell rang, Sam was sorry that he was probably never going to see this kid again. He was so cute.

Kelly rolled her eyes. “Leave it to Emmanuel to ring the doorbell at his own home. It’s not because the door is locked, because I unlocked it when I went to the bathroom, he’s just… polite.” She put down her own knitting and headed for the door, returning with Dean and Sam’s body with Emmanuel.

Jack dropped his work and ran to Emmanuel. “Father!”

Emmanuel knelt to hug his son. “Hello, Jack. As you can see, Sam and I are in the wrong bodies. Can you fix this?”

“I can, but do I have to? If I fix it, then Sam goes off with his brother, and we never see him again.” His lip trembled at the thought, and Sam looked away, trying not to let it show how touched he was.

“Kelly, I don’t know if Sam told you his last name, but he’s Sam Winchester, and this is his brother, Dean. I’ve told you many stories about the Winchesters. Would you be comfortable allowing them to come visit, knowing what they are?”

Kelly’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline, but she nodded. “Sam’s been wonderful with Jack while we waited, and Jack says he feels safe. Jack, what about Dean? Does he feel safe?”

Jack pulled away from his father and walked over to Dean, looking up at him intently. “Not like Father or Sam, but yes.”

Emmanuel looked to Sam and Dean. “You two are welcome here any time you’re in the area or wish to come. Even if you’re not in the area, if you call, I can bring you here. I… can fly, so quickly that you might call it teleportation.”

“Huh.” Dean rolled his eyes. “So can I have my brother back to his normal shaggy oversized body now, kid?”

Jack started to glow golden, and then Sam was back in his body and Dean had a gun out. “Dean. Put the gun away. Don’t make Jack wrong about you and have our invitation to visit rescinded.”

“This kid is…”

“The son of Lucifer, a Nephil, and quite capable of killing you before you pull the trigger if he detects that you will,” Emmanuel interrupted. “Fortunately, he’s also a very good kid who idolizes Superman, Luke Skywalker, and Xena. He has taken Spider-Man’s uncle’s words to heart as much as Peter Parker did. He’s no more something for you to hunt than Sam is.”

“Thought you were his father,” Dean said, although he at least lowered the gun.

Sam cleared his throat. “Dean, stepfathers exist. For a kid as young as Jack, especially if the biological father was never around or horrible – which, Lucifer, I’m kind of assuming here – stepfathers can end up being a more real dad than the blood parent.”

“Exactly,” Jack said. “I never knew Lucifer, but Mom says that Castiel is my real father, and that’s good enough for me.” He stepped toward Sam, looking up. “That’s the difference. You feel like a father, Sam. Father, Mom, do you agree?”

“Jack, it’s not that easy,” Kelly said, face crimson. “He does feel like he could be, but for us humans, we don’t just… feel… the bonds that easily.”

“He could be like me, where he doesn’t form romantic or sexual relationships, too,” Emmanuel added. “If you aren’t, Sam, and you think Kelly could be a potential partner for you, then allow me to clarify that Kelly and I are very close friends and coparenting Jack, but we are not involved in an exclusive relationship. You would not be intruding on anything if you wished to pursue something of that nature with her.”

Sam ducked his head so that his hair covered his face as Dean started cackling. “Come on, Sammy, you gotta take the opportunity. You’re not gonna get her killed, not if her kid’s as dangerous as Cas says and I don’t care if they’re technically human anyone threatening Kelly deserves whatever the kid does to them. Hot girl who’s into you and not helpless monster bait, cute kid who already likes you, even a big nerd to talk lore and history with as part of the family. Don’t make me ashamed to be your big brother.”

Sam wanted to protest, but… Dean had a good point. “Kelly, I apologize for my brother’s indelicate way of putting it, but I can’t really say he’s wrong. I do want to give things a try, if you’d be willing. I should warn you…”

“The Winchesters are an inseparable package, and Dean will always come first in your life. Jack and Castiel are first in mine, no matter what happens between us, so we’re well matched that way,” Kelly said. “Castiel, will you look after Jack while Sam takes me out to dinner tonight? Unless you two have a hunt, of course.”