Chapter Text
When Dean made his way into the bunker’s front room, already wishing for his third cup of coffee, he was surprised to see Jack working at the main table. They had been keeping a close eye on him the last few days, though he insisted he felt fine after using the spell given to them by Lily Sunder to keep him from dying again.
“Morning, kiddo,” Dean said as he climbed the steps, “What are you working on?”
Jack looked up and flashed him a smile. “Sam asked me to keep an eye on the things for a bit this morning,” he gestured to the phones and laptop in front of him, “He’s coming back from that hunt with Angela, and since almost everyone else has been busy the last few days, he let me help out.”
Taking a seat, Dean hmmed and looked the kid over with a critical eye. Catching his glance, Jack sighed. “I’m fine, Dean, really. This isn’t even hard work and I wanted to do something other than rest and binge Star Wars again.”
Dean sighed and nodded, “I know, kid, I know. It’s just, Cas tells me you haven’t been sleeping, and after everything that’s happened…You can’t blame us for worrying.”
“I don’t. I just…I just want things to go back to normal again. Even without my powers.” Jack turned back to the computer screen.
Pursing his lips, Dean leaned back in his chair, considering the kid in front of him. Before he could say anything else, though, he was interrupted by the clatter of the door opening as Sam returned with Angela.
Jack got up to greet him, but Dean stayed where he was. He turned his head as a coffee cup was set by his elbow and Cas took the vacant seat to his right.
Dean gave a sigh of relief as he breathed in the caffeine fumes, humming his thanks to Cas. After a few sips, he followed the angel’s gaze to Jack, helping Sam with bags and asking for details on the hunt.
“He sleep last night?” Dean asked, already knowing the answer.
Cas shook his head. “Only for an hour a bit after you fell asleep, and not very well.” Looking over the hunter, he said, “You should be sleeping more too. Staying up for Jack is admirable, but you need your rest as much as he does. I promised I’d wake you if he needed.”
Dean waved him away. “I know, Cas. I just don’t want him to be alone. Those are the worst times after something like this…The quiet, in-between times when there’s nothing else to distract you. I just can’t sleep if I think that he might be feeling that…helplessness, that fear.”
Cas’ face relaxed into a small smile as Dean took another sip of coffee. He looked up as Sam made his way over to them, still brushing snow from his hair. “Good morning, Sam.”
“Morning,” he set a bag next to Dean on the table, “We might be getting locked in here a couple days. That snowstorm last night was larger than predicted, Angela and I barely got in with the snow piled up.”
“First snowfall of the season, just in time for December,” Dean mused, “I’m ready for the holiday season, man. Who knows, we might just get a peaceful Christmastime for once.”
Sam huffed a laugh. “Yeah, wouldn’t that be nice.” Taking in Dean’s tired face, he pressed his lips together. “No difference with Jack while I’ve been gone, huh? I wish I had some idea to get him out of his head for a bit, besides letting him work.”
Cas sighed, “Well, he’s resisting all encouragement to rest and I still think it’s a bad idea to take him anywhere just yet. Not that we could with all this snow, now.”
“Hey, that’s an idea,” Dean said suddenly, rising from his chair.
“Dean? What do you mean? What idea?” Cas got up with him, brows furrowed.
Dean smiled back at him. “I’ve got just the thing to cheer him up for a bit.” Turning, he called, “Jack! Go get some warm clothes on and meet me outside. I gotta show you something.”
Jack beamed and nodded, hurrying from the small group of hunters to go to his room and change. Cas gave Dean another questioning look, eyebrows raised.
Dean only grinned. “He’s a kid, right? Every kid’s gotta have a chance to play in the snow. I don’t think he got to do that during his first winter in the apocalypse world.”
That didn’t seem to clarify much for Cas. Sighing and rolling his eyes, Dean grabbed his coat. “All this time on earth, and you haven’t made a snowman before? Come on, Cas, time for you to learn too.”
~^*^~~^*^~~^*^~
Dean and Cas waited in the forested area at the top of the bunker’s hill, Dean trying to explain everything one can do in the snow.
“There’s snowmen, sledding, hell, even snow angels! And, of course,” he scooped up a handful of snow, “Snowball fights!” He formed a snowball and held it up for Cas to see.
Cas didn’t seem impressed. “And people, children…throw these at each other? What is the point of the game?”
Clapping him on the shoulder, Dean smiled and shook his head. Turning to look down towards the bunker, he spread his arms. “How long does it take to get a coat on?”
Coming up beside him, elbows touching, Cas asked gravely, “Do you think something happened with Jack?”
Sharing a look with the angel, Dean started making his way down the hill, Cas right next to him, both of them imagining increasingly awful scenarios.
Turning around a particularly high section of the hill, dread curling in his chest, Dean was hit straight in the face with a snowball.
He sputtered, falling against Cas, brushing ice crystals from his eyes to see Sam and Jack crouching behind a full snow fort, more snowballs poised in their hands and grins on their faces.
“Fire!” Jack shouted.
Dean grabbed Cas and pulled him close against the hill, laughing. “Oh, it’s on!” Dodging incoming ice missiles, they scrambled to fight back, ducking behind trees and trying to get some shots of their own in.
Eventually, Dean rushed the snow fort and destroyed it, falling on the other side under a barrage of snowballs from Jack and Sam.
The fight moved on to Sam vs. Jack, leaving Dean collapsed next to the fallen fort, panting breathy laughter and watching the continuing battle with a bright smile. Cas made his way over as well, snow melting on his disheveled trench coat, and his face soft as he took in Sam and Jack chasing one another through the snow.
After a few minutes of silent observation, Cas asked softly, “Did you do this when you were a child?”
Dean took a breath and shrugged, eyes unfocusing as he remembered. “Yeah, before Mom died. Dad helped me make snowmen in the yard, took me sledding at the park. After…when Dad wasn’t around, I would take Sam out. Give him a few hours of fun, without motels and monsters. Just like all the other kids.” Dean looked down, and then met Cas’ eyes. “It would always cheer him up.”
Looking over at Jack, flopping in the snow to make a snow angel, Cas could almost see what it must have looked like all that time ago, with Sam and Dean.
“You have done so much for him, Dean.” He locked eyes with him again, searching as Dean’s gaze dropped to the snow. “Sam told me that you feel guilty about how you treated him at first. But of all of us, he looks to you, and you have taught him and helped him more than me, or Sam. You’ve become more of a father to him than me.”
Dean clenched his jaw, the muscle pulsing. “It was because you died,” he whispered, eyes closing. “You died, and I blamed him for it. Cas, I-…I told him I’d kill him.”
He lifted his eyes to Cas’ his own dark with guilt. “And then he died, and I-” he broke off, turning away.
Cas caught him by the shoulder, and faced him. “Dean, he doesn’t blame you for that. I don’t blame you,” He paused, softening, “Jack knows how you feel. He’s your family.”
Dean met his eyes for a long moment. “You’re family, Cas. Don’t ever forget that.”
Then they turned and walked back to the bunker together, arms brushing as they stayed side-by-side in the wide-open field of white snow.