stupidstuffiwrote

٠࣪.✦➤ to say the very least, gabriel is incredibly tired. he wasn't even aware angels could be this tired.

٠࣪.✦➤ there's three day old spit up on his shirt, feathers in his hair, and he hasn't left the house in weeks.

٠࣪.✦➤ as much as he wants to, he doesn't drop you off with cas as much as he could. he wants to be there for you as much as he can and, though he hates to admit it, he does kinda feel bad that he just dumps you there with no warning.

٠࣪.✦➤ but it doesn't matter. you're still the sweetest baby in the darn universe, and he loves you. parenting is just hard.

٠࣪.✦➤ like any other child, you don't enjoy eating your greens, so he's having to find ways to make it more palatable to you.

٠࣪.✦➤ after countless failures, he finds that you will drink carrot juice. carrot juice. he doesn't care how ridiculous it sounds, it's a win.

٠࣪.✦➤ he's been getting better at that, taking a win no matter how small. he feels a little ridiculous, but it's more fun this way.

٠࣪.✦➤ he is a huge pushover when it comes to you, it's super hard to say no to you.

٠࣪.✦➤ it doesn't help that he's an archangel with near unimaginable power. anything you want, he can give you with a snap of his fingers.

٠࣪.✦➤ he knows how important it is to teach your kid about needs versus wants and yada yada, but he really doesn’t like saying no to you.

٠࣪.✦➤ it also doesn’t help that you’ve been spending a lot of time with your uncle cas. you’ re slowly but surely picking up on his puppy eyes and bring them back home to your dad.

٠࣪.✦➤ he both loves and hates your puppy dog eyes. they’re simultaneously the most adorable thing he’s ever seen and the most lethal weapon you have against him.

٠࣪.✦➤ okay, technically that isnt the most lethal weapon you have.

٠࣪.✦➤ your powers are starting to come in and it's simultaneously exhausting and terrifying.

٠࣪.✦➤ you once set a book on fire by staring at it too hard. being that he is an archangel, he was able to put it out fairly smoothly, but he is still completely scared.

٠࣪.✦➤ i imagine that nephilims wings coming in is a lot like teething, they have to break the skin to come out at first, then they can learn how to keep them hidden.

٠࣪.✦➤ your teething phase was basically a more advanced version of hell. he hated having to watch how the skin of your back grew red and irritated as the bones of your wings came in.

٠࣪.✦➤ you would cry and cry, and he would do his best grace-wise to help with the pain, but there was only so much he could do.

٠࣪.✦➤ when they were fully out, he was surprised right off the bat by the wingspan alone. you were barely four, and your wings were fit for children double your age.

٠࣪.✦➤ then again, you are a nephilim and there are only, what, three of those in existence? maybe it’s normal for them.

٠࣪.✦➤ speaking of your wings, he just adores them. the downy feathers that make them up and how oversized they are on you, its all so precious to him.

٠࣪.✦➤ he is your dad, so it’s only natural that he worries about you on a frequent basis, but one worry is recurring.

٠࣪.✦➤ he has a recurring nightmare that you end up in a ring of holy fire, and since you don’t know what it does to angels, you try to cross it and die.

٠࣪.✦➤ another nightmare he has is that heaven finds out about your existence and tries to hunt you down. that one is especially hard for him. all his brothers and sisters working together in a joint effort to take away his child is something that will never not scare him.

٠࣪.✦➤ after these dreams, he’ll go find you in your room and give you a big hug, usually with tickles involved.

٠࣪.✦➤ you wake up, none the wiser of his nightmare, giggling and swatting at his hands while you squeal at him to stop.

٠࣪.✦➤ he feels a little bad about disrupting your rest, but he convinces himself that it’s worth it if he can be reassured that you’re the same bright eyed, beautiful, and unharmed child you’ve always been.

٠࣪.✦➤ as you grow, you recognize that something is definitely upsetting him when he comes to visit you in the night. but if you ever asked about it, he’ll deny it until his grave.

٠࣪.✦➤ speaking of not that, your uncle cas is getting more and more used to child care now that he’s been spending more time with you.

٠࣪.✦➤ he’s not very good at initiating games or starting conversations beyond basic stuff like good mornings and small talk, but you are.

٠࣪.✦➤ if you want to play games or have tea parties, you’re more than happy to explain the rules and teach him how to play. that, and dean is surprisingly good at interacting with children, so you two get along quickly.

٠࣪.✦➤ sam didn’t know what to do when gabriel left you there, so he mostly stayed out of you and cas’ way.

٠࣪.✦➤ but like any good leech(or in this case, infuriatingly charming nephilim) you slowly wore him down and he now actively hangs out with you when you get dropped off.

٠࣪.✦➤ drop off time and pick up time are either super easy, because you’ve fallen asleep, or..

٠࣪.✦➤ once, you threw a huge tantrum because you didn’t want to leave. Gabriel had no idea what to do. on the one hand, he liked having cas as your babysitter and wouldn’t mind letting you stay a few more hours or even staying the night. on the other hand, he doesn’t want you to get in the habit of getting what you want from throwing fits.

٠࣪.✦➤ so, he compromises with you. maybe you can stay a little longer next time, but you still have to leave.

٠࣪.✦➤ it felt pretty good to not immediately give in, and he hopes his efforts aren’t in vain.

٠࣪.✦➤ all in all, gabriel is still covered in three day old baby spit up and an ungodly number of feathers, but he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

────୨ৎ────

: ̗̀➛ you first met shawn and gus when you were still in diapers. your moms were friends and got pregnant around the same time.

: ̗̀➛ you went to the same elementary school, middle school, and high school.

: ̗̀➛ yeah, your parents really pushed you into being friends. something about how ‘every good cop has connections’, but your friendship wasn't based on that. it was based on all the other stuff that made friends worth having.

: ̗̀➛ it was based on walking home together after school, staying up too late on the phone, inside jokes, and a weird dash of the 'person next door’ trope.

: ̗̀➛ when shawn was about ten, he had a conversation with gus where he said he had quote unquote ‘dibs’ on you should it come to that.

: ̗̀➛ but when you were getting ready to go to college, he told you he wasn't going.

: ̗̀➛ you and gus tried to change his mind, telling him how smart he was and that he shouldn't waste his talents on dead end gigs.

•••

“shawn, come on.” you pleaded. gus had long since gone to bed, needing his 'beauty sleep’ to go visit Pomona with his family. you were leaving tomorrow, bags packed and at the door. but even then, you still refused to drop it after everything. “you got a 100 on the DET like three years ago, you know how hard that is? go to detective school and do something with it.” you were practically pleading by now. you couldn't let him throw his life away like that. and for what? lack of commitment? shawn was better than that, you knew it and he knew it too.

“i dunno, bug.” he twirls around to face you, infuriatingly calm. you barely resist the urge to roll your eyes. ‘bug’ is a nickname he's called you for many, many years. you were annoyed by it at first, but eventually got used to it when he never relented. he continued. “i’m just not the geeky college type, i’ll leave that to you and gustopher.”

you realize he's no closer to giving in than he was two hours ago and start to feel your resolve weakening. “please. if not for yourself, do it for me.”

“never thought i’d hear you begging for me, yeesh. or i guess, not like this.” he snorted. he crossed his arms and shook his head. “look, it's not like i’m not going anywhere. i've got a gig lined up, i'll be fine—”

“and where's that gonna go?” you demanded, closing the distance between the two of you. “and the one after that? and the one after that? shawn, you know they're going nowhere!” you had begun to shout, eyes locked onto him. you took a deep breath and lowered your voice. “you know this is the last you'll see of me? i’ll be at the airport tomorrow before you wake up.”

“i know.” he agreed, voice more serious than you'd heard it in awhile. “im gonna miss you, buggy.” you stared at him for a few seconds before sighing softly. you were tired, it was nearly three in the morning and you had to be at the airport in just a few hours. you went for the door, but lingered in the entrance.

“see you around, shawn.”

•••

: ̗̀➛ and then you were off, and out of his life.

: ̗̀➛ and then gus left.

: ̗̀➛ and then it was just him.

: ̗̀➛ he tried to fill the void with women he didn't care for, but none of them were ever you. even so, he convinced himself that he was over you.

: ̗̀➛ then, when he found out gus was working as a pharmaceutical rep in santa barbara, he started his ‘lying to police about being a psychic and opening a psychic detective agency’ gig. —he's working on the name.

: ̗̀➛ he was sure that he would be found out eventually, but he had made it this far, and it would be fun while it lasted at least. plus, he had quite a few cases under his belt by then and had made a fairly impressive name for himself.

: ̗̀➛ he was walking through the precinct, mind half occupied with a case and half occupied with whatever he and gus were talking about. he was just reaching the main area when—

: ̗̀➛ oh.

: ̗̀➛ suddenly, you of all people were standing right in front of him in the SBPD bullpen.

: ̗̀➛ okay, maybe not right in front of him, you were getting water a few feet away.

: ̗̀➛ but just like that, all the feelings he thought he buried years ago were back with a vengeance.

: ̗̀➛ the first thing he thought of was how good you still looked, standing there after so many years.

: ̗̀➛ you were so familiar and yet so different, years of college and apparently police school would do that to a person. but you wore it incredibly well. you were still drop dead gorgeous.

: ̗̀➛ the second thing he thought of was that you knew. you knew he wasn't a psychic, and more importantly, you knew him. you wouldn't buy it if he tried to lie to you.

: ̗̀➛ but then again, he had no idea how long you'd been here, and he would've gotten fired before he even got inside if you'd told anyone. plus, even if you'd somehow managed to avoid hearing about him when you'd gotten back to santa barbara, there was no way someone hadn't told you about him by now.

: ̗̀➛ so, you knew and you hadn't said anything. why?

•••

“hey, bug.” he says casually, as though it hasn't been nearly a decade since you've seen each other. he gets himself a mug of coffee, pretending like he didn't burn his tongue when he immediately took a sip.

you turned around, surprised. “well, hello, psychic.” you replied, trying to seem annoyed, but you can't quite hide how happy you are to see him again.

he winces at the obvious disbelief in your voice, but doesn't miss a beat in his reply. “you didn't tell me you were back in santa barbara.”

“didn't think i needed to. i thought you were still doing that ‘traveling the world’ thing.”

he shrugs, grinning through the taste of the battery acid coffee in the station. “oh, i was. did all the usual, fought zombies, bought the mona lisa, found the cure to cancer, you know. i guess you could say im settling in.” he checks his nails like he just got them done.

“exciting.” you deadpan, entirely uninterested in his so called escapades. “i didn't know there was such a thing as a psychic detective.”

“head psychic detective.” he corrects you. you want to punch him in the face. well, you always kind of want to punch shawn in the face. but that's besides the point. he's clearly dodging the question. at the same time, you understand why he's doing it. you're in the middle of a police department, a police department he works for. saying anything about his non-clairvoyance puts him at risk of losing his job. you shake your head, never quite sure how he's managed to pull another one of his antics off. “say, bug, it's been a while. how about we catch up?” and just like that, shawn spencer had wormed his way back into your life.

•••

: ̗̀➛ okay, maybe he didn't get the answers he wants just yet, but he has a plan.

: ̗̀➛ he'll rope you into whatever case he's on, get you laughing just like old times, see your pretty smile, loosen you up so you'll be willing to talk more.

: ̗̀➛ and maybe, just maybe, you'll keep his secret.

────୨ৎ────

sam

meeting and subsequently falling for sam winchester was the easiest thing you've ever done. loving him was just so effortless. it was for him too, but not to the same degree. he's never felt like this about anyone before, and he recognizes it. meeting you was like letting the sun in after years of looking at a boarded window. your voice, your laugh, your eyes, your smile, everything that made you yourself was just perfect to him. if cas was an angel, you were a god. you have no flaws in his eyes, any issues you have are just more perfections. he was half convinced he was hexed or cursed, and maybe he was, but he stopped caring when he was around you. at first, sam is surprised by how violent he wants to be when other people try to flirt with you. once, a man winked at you and he felt like ripping his eyelid off. but he adapts, he finds ways to make it normal. and yet, you've worked cases with him where he's been excessively violent with the creature if you happened to be bait. when you asked if he was okay, he responds: “it was just to protect you.” dean notices too, but for all the wrong reasons. he only remembers sam being this torn up over jess and thinks sam is experiencing puppy love all over again. so, naturally, he wants to wingman. and for (one of)the first time(s), sam lets him. the idea of you being bait in the first place is something he hates, by the way. in his eyes, you shouldn't be bait for anyone or anything aside from him. but he also gets it to a degree. if you're this much of a temptation to him, then it's no wonder monsters can't resist you either. it's made worse by the fact that he isn't aware of your feelings for him. he can't do anything about it, you're not his partner. yet. eventually you'll come to understand that the only person who won't leave you is him. for now though, he can wait.

dean

dean fully believes he's under a spell of some kind. lately, he can't seem to get you off of his mind. that, under normal circumstances, would be pretty sweet of him, but this is far from normal. when i say he can't get you off his mind, i mean he actually can't. everything somehow ties back to you. a necklace reminds him of how you get yours tangled together. an old book cover reminds him of your hair color. a tissue box reminds him of when he handed you one while you cried after a bad hunt. he feels like he's going insane over it, and it doesn't help that his endless searching yields zero results. when you first met dean, you kind of thought he was an asshole. he openly flirted with anything that had legs and seemingly didn't care about the losses of being a hunter. now, dean doesn't tell you what he's looking for, but seeing him so wrapped up and looking so serious was starting to change your mind about the guy. he does care, clearly, since he seems to be putting his heart and soul into whatever case he's researching for. maybe it's just harder to reach that part of him. so yeah, you've caught feelings. dean, of course, is oblivious to it. he's big on 'platonic’ affection, he wants to have a claim on you before you're even together. he’ll give you hugs after hunts, hold your hand when it's cold, even cuddle when you get nightmares. he insists it's all platonic, even tells himself that. but we both know it's not. he's subconsciously trying to make sure no one gets any ideas about you. if someone sees him holding your hand and giving you hugs, they’ll leave you alone. and since dean's thrown himself headfirst into finding a cure, his affections have only gotten worse. he always has to have an arm around you or a hand on you somewhere. he's been asking you to spend more time with him lately, saying he needs your help(which is hard when you have no idea what he's looking for). but in all honesty, he's just doing it so you don't spend time with other people. people who aren't so deranged and desperate. but you don't have any plans for that. you can certifiably say that you love him, so your only reason for leaving is to return with coffee or more books.

gabriel

he has known about your existence for a very long time. of course he has, he is the archangel who’s widely associated with childbirth. but you, the plan for your birth stuck out to him. for some reason, he felt drawn to you, lured in. so, naturally, he's been tracking your bloodline for centuries. always ensuring every little detail worked out so you could be brought into the world. ever since your ancestors met, he's been waiting for the day you would come along and make him complete. it's no easy task, you know. every time someone important to your lineage met or fell in love, he wanted to be there. he got so anxious about it, everything needed to be perfect. if anything is even slightly off, it could cost him his most precious gift, you. he's spent so much time with the cherubs, obsessing over your grandparents meeting and your parents being perfect for each other. or at least for a little while. it doesn't matter for very long, only enough to make sure you were sure to arrive. and when you did arrive? he was there. he's always been there. how he wished he could've held you before you left. how he wished he could've held you before the most perfect creation on the face of the planet slipped away. but he's far from done. his new goal is to make sure nothing and nobody hurts you. it's just his luck that you become a hunter. any demon (or any monster period) only gets so far before he significantly weakens their strength. other hunters call you a good luck charm, but there's no luck involved. just an archangel who can't afford to lose his human, just gabriel. and gabriel just can't wait to meet you.

crowley

you are an enigma to him. one of the few things he hadn't anticipated for. he feels drawn to you in a way he's never experienced before. to him, you're everything right about the world, everything he's the opposite of. in a word, perfect. and crowley’s never believed in perfect. it's even worse because you were raised by hunters, have brothers who are hunters. some would say your brothers are the hunters. it's too much of a risk to talk to you, you know what he is. for a while, he hid in the shadows, keeping any possible suitors away from you. as far as he's concerned, you're already his. he has a claim on you, and considering he's the king of hell, any demon that thinks they have a chance is insane. but then you spoke with him. just briefly. just a formality. well, it was supposed to just be a formality. but you were there, in front of him, talking to him, acknowledging him. and suddenly he can't wait anymore. he kissed your hand and had to hold himself back from doing more. he talks to you as frequently as he can without seeming like he's following you(he is). and slowly but surely, his charm is working on you. he knows how charismatic he can be, and he has no hesitation about laying it on thick. little does he know, it's actually working. despite your brother's repeated warnings, you can't seem to resist this smooth talking man. and anyway, everyone else you've shown interest has ended badly. as early as the first dates, they’ve ghosted you without a trace. this, for the first time, seems to be going really well. and you feel like you have to take that chance before it's too late. for now though, it can wait. after all, you're not sure your brothers can take it and you sorta like the attention he keeps giving you. crowley tells himself it will only be a matter of time. he doesn't know how right he is.

────୨ৎ────

sam sighed as he turned another page of the book he was reading. the past week had been incredibly exhausting and he had desperately needed a break. first, crowley is back at the bunker, which meant having to deal with his antics on a daily basis, but the demon had also brought along his little daughter. now sam didn't interact with her much, (dean was typically better with kids and he didn't want crowley to kill him for talking to his daughter)and if she was anything like her father, sam doubted they would get on well. having crowley around was hard enough, he wasn't sure he could survive having a mini crowley around on top of the original. but then, she was still fairly tiny, maybe there was hope for her. he shook his head. he was supposed to be taking a break, not stressing himself out. then again, he never was very good at that. he was rereading the same paragraph for the fourth time when—

“what are you reading?” asked a little voice behind his book. speak of the devil, or rather, his daughter. he put the book on the table beside him. as much as he knew talking to you might get him in trouble with your dad, he couldn't deny that you were adorable. what, with your chubby cheeks and big eyes? yeah, you were a cute kid. “uh, hey kiddo. it's the odyssey.” he looked around for crowley, maybe if he said something now, they could stay on good terms.

“the what?” you innocently inquired. right, duh, you were only four years old, of course you don't know what the odyssey is. he gives up on looking for your dad and starts to tell you about it. “it's about this guy called odysseus, and he's trying to get back home, but he has to fight a bunch of deities to do it.”

“deities?”

“bad guys. well, not all the deities are bad guys, some of them are good guys, but others aren't. and some of the bad guys are actually just human—”

“that's really cool! my daddy fights bad guys all the time! can i see?”

“oh, kiddo, it's not a picture book..” he trailed off as you climbed onto the armrest of the seat he was in. he’d seen you do that many times with your dad, but never with him. you pointed to a point on the page and looked up at him expectantly. “what?”

“read it.”

“oh, uh, okay.” he complies, not knowing what else to do. he's more than a little bewildered, as he has no idea how to interact with kids, let alone little girls. he reads you a few lines until he feels your little head on his shoulder. sam shuts the book and scoops you up, carrying you back to your room. he's confused at how naturally he's able to do it.

———

one night when crowley was away, sam was in the kitchen with a beer in hand. he had a nightmare about the mystery spot time loop again and just needed something to get his mind off of it. he didn't want to wake dean up, even if it would make him feel better, because the man needed his four hours and sam doubted cas would let dean out of his grasp in the middle of the night. so, he resorted to beer. turns out he wasn't the only one who was having nightmares, because soon the sound of footsteps coming down the hall caught his attention. sam was immediately on guard, cursing himself for leaving his gun on his nightstand. he was about to reach for the knife in the cabinet when you emerged from the hallway. he relaxed momentarily, only to find that you were crying. your little face was stained with tears and you looked utterly terrified. he assumed there must've been a threat in the bunker, why else would you have been so torn up?

“uncle sam, i had a bad dream.” you whimpered, clutching your little blanket. okay, maybe his guess was a bit off. wait. uncle sam? since when was he your uncle? “kiddo, what?”

instead of thinking he was asking about why you were calling him your uncle, you merely thought he was asking about your nightmare. you ran over and hugged his leg, crying about a scary monster chasing you and that you missed your dad. sam sighed heavily, but couldn't help feeling bad for you. you were still so young, so unaware of the ugly parts of the world, the opposite of himself at your age. oh, how he wished he could've been kept in the dark a little longer, or in the best case, indefinitely. maybe he could help you with that. he didn't know how much you knew about demons, considering who your father was, but he took you in his arms nonetheless.

"hey, sweetheart, it's not real. it's not real, it's just a dream. it's over now.” he rocked you back and forth, the movement coming surprisingly naturally to him. he's never been one for childcare before, but you're making it easy. he just prays to some higher power that dean doesn't walk in. once you've calmed down, he carries you back to your room and tucks you in for the night. he's a little too comfortable for his liking, but he doesn't let it show. he doesn't understand why he's enjoying this so much. in truth, sam has always wanted to be a father. it was something he planned for all the way back with jess, one of their last conversations was about having kids. you might not be his child, but you've most certainly carved out a niche for yourself in his life.

sam has a very strongly worded conversation with crowley about being home when his child needs him after he gets back.

────୨ৎ────

٠࣪.𖤐 if you read my headcanons for the boys as dads, then you know how you were born. if not..

٠࣪.𖤐 he was still in the bunker's dungeon when it happened. he was unfathomably lonely, and the human blood was only making it worse. in the worst of his depression, he somehow used a part of his own soul to create you.

٠࣪.𖤐 so, he gave birth? not really.. it's kinda like magic(?). or i guess it's sort of like asexual reproduction?? it was weird, he doesn't fully understand it himself.

٠࣪.𖤐 it took him a minute to understand what had happened, your existence didn't and still doesn't make sense to him.

٠࣪.𖤐 he got a better look at you, turning your little body side to side just to observe. logic told him that you must've been male, considering he was your only parent and he was a man. you were not.

٠࣪.𖤐 he was even more confused when he found out that you were, in fact, a girl. basic science should make that impossible. but then again.. what about this situation was scientifically sound?

٠࣪.𖤐 he held you up, gently stroking your little head as he looked down at you. you were so beautiful.

٠࣪.𖤐 a foreign emotion settled in his chest, a warm one that felt like coming home for the first time. looking at you, his creation, his daughter, he felt oddly content.

٠࣪.𖤐 well, that, and something else. an old, aching terror that he had only felt a few times in his life. he was a father now, and it was quite possibly the scariest thing he'd ever experienced.

٠࣪.𖤐 he swears when he gets back to his throne, he’ll get you the fanciest, prettiest dresses money can buy. but for now, you'll have to wait.

٠࣪.𖤐 off the bat, he's pretty attached to you, paternal instincts are hard to ignore when you've never experienced them before.

٠࣪.𖤐 since you were born inside the demon trap, he nor you can exactly go anywhere until the winchesters got back. so, he just held you.

٠࣪.𖤐 he almost wants to keep you a secret from the winchesters. well, he does want to keep you a secret from them, but he knows he can't. where is he gonna hide a baby? he can only hope that they don't try to hurt you just because he happens to be your father.

٠࣪.𖤐 speaking of the winchesters, their reactions to your existence were almost enough to make him laugh.

٠࣪.𖤐 dean didn't think you were real at first. he thought crowley was screwing with them and somehow still had his powers.

٠࣪.𖤐 sam, on the other hand, was absolutely floored. he thought you'd been stolen somehow.

٠࣪.𖤐 once, they tried to take you away from him.

٠࣪.𖤐 you sobbed and sobbed, and sam tried for at least two hours to calm you down. dean would say ‘oh, you're holding her wrong, let me see’, and you still kept crying.

٠࣪.𖤐 when both men had long since lost any amount of their sanities, they returned you to crowley and were collectively annoyed out of their minds when you immediately stopped crying.

٠࣪.𖤐 “oh, would you look at that? looks like she knows where she belongs.”

٠࣪.𖤐 he's smug about it in front of the brothers, but he's beaming with pride when they leave. his little girl knows who her dad is, and he is beyond happy.

٠࣪.𖤐 when samdreel goes rogue and he gets to leave the bunker, he insists on taking you with him. he doesn't care if a baby will complicate the process, you need fresh air just as much as he does.

٠࣪.𖤐 then, when he has to go inside sam(haha), he hesitates. there's a little you in his lap and he doesn't want you to get hurt.

٠࣪.𖤐 he tells cas to watch you, and the angel begrudgingly does. then, he gets inside sam’s head. he's more frantic than sam has ever seen him, which isn't a lot, but is still surprising.

٠࣪.𖤐 he immediately checks on you when he's done, and it's an odd look for him, how much he cares about you.

٠࣪.𖤐 now that he's free once again, he's making good on his promises to give you everything a little girl could ever want.

٠࣪.𖤐 princess dresses in five different styles and colors, tiaras with real diamonds, enough toys to keep the pickiest of children happy, endless tea parties, nothing is too much for the princess of hell.

٠࣪.𖤐 being that you are exactly that, the princess of hell, there is quite a large target on your back. nothing he can't handle, of course, but one that makes him worry.

٠࣪.𖤐 he doesn't want to settle in one place for too long, so he spends a few years on the run.

٠࣪.𖤐 but eventually, he wants to give you more stability. so he goes to the only place he knows is safe from both sides, the bunker.

٠࣪.𖤐 they don't want to let him stay, he just left! luckily, a little girl is a very convincing tool. he lets you do most of the talking.

٠࣪.𖤐 one ‘please, sirs. i just wanna stay with my dad.’ and a muttered ‘im scared, daddy.’ and the winchesters were already starting to cave. they both have a soft spot for kids.

٠࣪.𖤐 they talk about it for a while but ultimately let you stay. you're just a little girl, and they can't bring themselves to turn you away.

٠࣪.𖤐 thus ensues the weirdest relationships of your life.

٠࣪.𖤐 your dad naturally tells you to stay away from them, but being that you're a naturally curious child, you don't.

٠࣪.𖤐 it starts when sam was reading in the library and suddenly a tiny voice says: “what are you reading?”

٠࣪.𖤐 he shows you the book and, being that you can't read, tells you some of the lines. you're surprisingly easy to talk to. you seem to enjoy it so you seek him out on occasion to read to you. he enjoys it more than he expects to.

٠࣪.𖤐 then, a week or so later, you found dean working on baby. you took a seat on the floor and watched him for a bit. when he saw you, he jumped and dropped the tool in his hand.

٠࣪.𖤐 “sonuvabitch! kid, what are you doin’ in here?” instead of explaining what you were doing, you just asked him questions about the impala.

٠࣪.𖤐 he's surprised that you're taking an interest in his car of all things and answers your questions after you answer his. he gets a little carried away and ends up showing you how to change a tire that's almost your height.

────୨ৎ────

“he's not coming back, is he?” dean allowed himself to ask. he hadn't wanted to ask, didn't want to know the answer. but he already did. he watched it happen. for once in his life, it felt final. like maybe he wouldn't be back in a few months or more. like it was different from the ways he and sam had come back. he had let himself think Cas would come back, like everyone else had. just like he had done so many times before. he would be back.

but he wouldn't be back.

sam looked up. tired, but not in the same way dean was tired. “dean..” he sounded angry, and broken— grief stricken, maybe. and dean felt those things too, but different. an extra layer that he couldn't name. heartbreak. he didn't want to feel it. “dean, i'm sorry, but you know he's not coming back, he's..” dean didn't listen to the rest of the sentence.

he had been looking for cas everywhere, just not consciously. the way he instinctively reached for a third mug of coffee on the rare days he'd make breakfast. how his eyes would linger on cas’ favorite spot in the library. the nights he'd hug his pillow closer and pretend nothing was wrong. the nights he’d pray to an angel he knew couldn't listen. he's woken up in a cold sweat more often than he would ever admit. dean tried so hard to push it down, to not feel it. to let it go as quickly as possible and grieve in two days. god, why can't grief go any faster? why does he even have to think about this? he's dead, castiel is dead and anything they had is gone. what did they even have anyway?

don't think about it.

the long nights where they’d held each other and fallen asleep in each other's arms.

don't think about it.

the nights sam had been away and they let themselves get lost in the alcohol.

don't think about it.

the words cas had whispered that no one had ever told him. how he handled dean like he was something precious and not the blunt object he'd always been.

don't think about it.

“i’ll watch over you.”

don't think about it.

“dean, you asked what about this is real. we are.”

don't think about it.

“you know i always appreciated our talks, our time together.”

don't think about it.

“i love you.”

don't think about it don't think about it don't think

“goodbye, dean.”

about it don't think about it don't think about it don'tthinkaboutitdon’thinkaboutitdon’thinkaboutitdon’t—

“dean, are you crying?” sam’s voice came from the other side of the table. shit. was he crying? he wiped his eyes a tad more aggressively than he had to. “no, of course not.”

“dean, it's okay to cry.” sam tried to put his hand on dean's shoulder but dean swatted his hand away. dean could be so stubborn sometimes, he swore.

“im fine, sammy. just.. i gotta do something.” he was planning to go to his room, but he didn't. he was trying so hard not to think about everything that two wrong turns later, he found himself in cas’ spot of the library. right in front of the well used seat cas had loved almost as much as him. so dean sat down, and he did the thing he'd been trying to avoid. he thought about it. he thought and thought until he fell asleep in that chair.

two things that castiel loved.

────୨ৎ────