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1 – 3 years old
“Jack, I need you to be quiet, okay?” Dean pleaded. “I need you to be quiet so people don’t think Daddy’s a horrible father.”
“No one thinks that,” Cas said, clearly amused.
“Are you sure?” Dean retorted, glancing at all the people in the park staring at them.
He patted Jack’s back, rubbing up and down soothingly. The kid was bawling, full on screaming and kicking in one of his epic toddler tantrums. Dean sometimes wished Jack had come back to them just a year or two older. He’d immediately think of all the good times that they had afterwards and the guilt would wash over him and he’d thank the angels for Jack just as he was. (Not literally. All the angels except Cas could go to hell as far as he was concerned.)
“You take Miracle,” Cas said, holding out the lead. “I can take Jack.”
“No way,” Dean said defensively. “I’ve got this.”
He couldn’t exactly remember how the tantrum started. Something about wanting to touch a dead pigeon or wanting to have ice cream he couldn’t recall. All he knew was that it had been going on for the past twenty minutes, the kid had a healthy set of lungs and everyone was staring at him like he was an axe murderer.
Technically, thanks to a case back in Wisconsin, he was but that wasn’t the point.
“Jack, please,” Dean begged. “Come on, buddy, what’s wrong?”
“I hate you!” Jack screeched and, ouch, okay that hurt. Cas must have seen it on Dean’s face because he gently touched Dean’s shoulder and squeezed.
“Jack,” Cas said firmly, “we don’t say that. I want you to say sorry to Daddy.”
“No!”
“Jack,” Cas said again.
Jack sniffed, furiously rubbing at his eyes. “You’re mean.”
Cas smiled. “I know, bee, but you hurt Daddy’s feelings.”
Jack sniffed again. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” Dean let out a breath of relief. “I’m sorry you’re so upset, buddy.”
Jack started to wriggle. “Can I go down?”
“Yeah, bud,” Dean said, putting him down on the ground and taking his hand. “You good?”
“Mhm.” Jack nodded, his tantrum completely forgotten. “Can we get ice cream now?”
Dean and Cas shared a look.
2 – 6 years old
“Daddy, let’s go!” Jack yelled, tugging his shoes on and his coat. “Papa’s getting out the car!”
“Coming, coming,” Dean called, racing down the stairs and sliding his feet into his slippers, which were battered and worn. He pulled on his raincoat, which was an obnoxious shade of green, and hauled Jack up into his arms, shifting him whilst he unlocked the door.
Outside, the rain was beating down harshly on the pavement and all sensible people had scurried indoors, their wellies full and their hair dripping. Not Jack and Dean. Jack had insisted on coming outside to greet Cas as he came back from a three day work retreat. It was the longest Cas had been away since Jack became little and both Jack and Dean had missed him terribly.
“Papa!” Jack shouted over the storm, wriggling like a worm in Dean’s arms. Dean struggled to keep a hold of him as he walked over to Cas, who was standing by the car in nothing but his jumper and jeans like a nutter.
“You must be freezing,” Dean said, fighting to be heard against the torrential downpour. He leaned forward and kissed Cas once and then again for good luck. It was nothing but a short press of lips but Jack giggled and made a disgusted noise like he’d seen Claire do before.
Cas beamed at them both. “How are my favourite boys?”
“Missed you,” Jack said. “Lots and lots.”
Cas took Jack from Dean, starting to walk inside but in no hurry, despite the droplets of water dripping from his eyelashes. Dean thought he looked as handsome as ever, if mildly resembling a drenched cat.
“I missed you even more,” Cas said, kissing Jack’s forehead.
“Not possible.” Jack laughed.
“Yes possible,” Cas responded wisely. Dean opened the front door for them and walked in behind them, shaking himself from head to toe like a wet dog.
“Daddy!” Jack cried indignantly and Cas chuckled.
Speaking of dogs, Miracle had bounded up to greet them, jumping all over Cas.
“Down, girl,” Dean said.
Cas put Jack down so he could greet Miracle, who was now sitting with her tail thumping rhythmically against the floor like a steel drum.
“I think Miracle missed me most,” Cas teased, crouching down. Miracle lurched forward to lick his face and was barely grabbed by the collar in time by Dean, who smirked.
“Oh really now? I know someone who stayed up late every night because I don’t read stories the same way Papa does who’d disagree.”
“Jack,” Cas scolded. “You’ll have to go to bed early tonight.”
He grabbed Jack and started tickling his sides.
“No!” Jack squealed. “No, I don’t want to!”
“Have mercy on the kid,” Dean said, his grin spreading from ear to ear.
“Never,” Cas said but eventually he relented. “Go brush your teeth, bee.”
“Okay,” Jack said, running up the stairs on all fours like an animal. Miracle ran up with him.
Dean swept in to help Cas up off the floor and tug him into a long kiss. Cas pulled back first, pecking Dean soothingly on the lips again.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“Love you,” Dean said, kissing him again, “and I definitely missed you the most.”
Cas grinned. “Is that so? Well, what’s to be done about that?”
Dean raised an eyebrow, pulling Cas closer. “I have a few ideas.”
“Dads!” Jack shouted. “I dropped my toothbrush and Miracle licked it!”
Cas dropped his head on Dean’s shoulder, his shoulder’s shaking with silent laughter.
“Coming, kid!” Dean called back. “Oh, well. Duty calls.”
Cas winked and Dean really shouldn’t have taught him how to do that. “I’ll deal with you later.”
3 – 9 years old
“Jack?” Cas knocked gently on the door. “Bee, are you alright?”
“No,” Jack said, muffled by his pillow. Cas sighed, running a hand through his hair. He wished Dean weren’t still at work.
“Can I come in?” Cas asked.
“Yeah,” Jack said.
Cas opened the door to see Jack’s things sprawled out across the floor and Jack sitting on his bed, hugging his pillow with tear streaks down his face.
“Oh, bee,” Cas said, sitting on the bed beside his son. “What’s wrong?”
Jack sniffled. “I miss Miracle.”
Cas pulled him for a hug, letting Jack cry into his shoulder.
“I know. We all miss her,” he said, “but she’s in a better place now.”
“You think so?” Jack mumbled.
“I know so,” Cas said, images of Heaven flashing through his eyes. “And one day you’re going to see her again.”
“Why can’t I see her now?” Jack complained through hiccuping breaths.
“It’s not time yet, bee,” Cas told him. “You’ve still got lots of life to live.”
“I wish I didn’t,” Jack said, careless in a way only kids can be. “I wish I could go now.”
Cas’s heart plummeted for a terrifying moment. He blinked back tears and gathered himself up.
“You don’t mean that. You love your pancakes and your friends too much and Daddy and I would miss you very much.”
“I don’t mean it,” Jack agreed, “but I’m still sad.”
Cas wasn’t entirely sure how to handle this. He was used to Dean swooping in and saving the day with something crazy and probably unsuitable for them to do that would distract Jack. But maybe distraction wasn’t always what Jack needed. Maybe sometimes he just needed to be sad. It broke Cas’s heart to watch his child be sad.
“That’s okay,” Cas said. “It’s okay to be sad. I’m sad too.”
He heard the front door unlock and close and breathed a sigh of relief. Dean’s footsteps came up the stairs and he soon found himself looking into the eyes of his husband: loving, caring and worried eyes.
“Is everything okay?” Dean asked, coming to sit on Jack’s other side.
“We miss Miracle,” Cas explained.
“Ah,” Dean said. “I miss her too. She was a very good girl.”
“The best,” Jack said. “Can I see another video of her?”
Dean nodded and got out his phone, opening his videos and showing one of Miracle running around to Jack. Jack was crying but he laughed when Miracle fell over in her eagerness to chase the ball and Dean and Cas shared a look over Jack’s head. They knew everything was going to be okay.
4 – 12 years old
“Hi, I’m Jack’s dad,” Dean said, sauntering up to the school nurse. “I understand he’s been sick?”
The nurse briefly glanced him up and down, her expression changing.
“Jack talked about you the whole time,” she said, extending a hand. “I’m Rosa.”
“Dean,” Dean said, shaking her hand. She held on for a tad longer than necessary.
“You must be a very good dad,” she said.
“I’m not the good one,” Dean said and confusion flashed across her face but Dean was through the door to the nursing office before she could ask.
“Hey, buddy,” he said, crouching down next to the chair Jack was sitting in with a sick bag clenched tightly between his fingers.
The kid looked pale and slightly green. His eyes were watering and he was shaking just a little.
“Oh, bud,” Dean said. “You not doing so great?”
Jack shook his head miserably.
“Reception called me,” Dean said, “and told me you started throwing up an hour ago. Why didn’t you get them to call me sooner?”
Jack shook his head again. “Didn’t want to worry you.”
Dean ruffled Jack’s hair gently. “You always worry me, you rapscallion. Wouldn’t trade that worry for the world. Your papa won’t be back from work for a bit but when he gets back we can all watch a movie together and cuddle on the sofa, yeah?”
Jack pulled a face. “‘M too old to cuddle.”
“Never,” Dean said. “You’re my little boy forever and ever.”
“Ew, no, Dad.” Jack laughed. Dean grinned, even though there had been a whole lot of truth behind his words.
“Can I take him home now?” Dean asked Rosa. She nodded, having looked a bit chastised at the mention of Cas. Dean didn’t blame her for flirting. He was hot stuff.
He took Jack home and the both of them watched Marvel movies until Cas got home. Jack had stopped throwing up a while ago so he was now in his ewok onesie curled into Dean’s side.
“I hear someone’s had a hard day,” Cas said as he walked through the door, smiling at the sight of both of them.
“Yeah, my day sucked,” Dean joked. Jack mock-punched his stomach and Dean made a wounded noise like a shot deer.
“I threw up,” Jack said.
“I heard,” Cas replied, coming over and pressing his hand against Jack’s forehead. “You have a bit of a temperature.”
He took Jack’s jaw in his hand and carefully moved it from side to side.
“Open,” he said and Jack rolled his eyes.
“You don’t need to baby me,” he said.
“Babying you is my job,” Cas said.
“Dad said it’s embarrassing me.”
“That too.”
“You guys suck,” Jack said but he leaned back into Dean’s side and pulled Cas down to join them happily.
5 – 15 years old
The knock on the door was abrupt and jolted Dean out of his sleep. When he shifted, he heard Cas groan and felt the arms around his waist tighten.
“Someone’s at the door,” Dean said, trying to pull himself free. Cas cracked open one bleary eye, snuggling closer.
“Let them wait an hour,” he said, kissing the back of Dean’s neck. Dean laughed.
“Oh I wish, sweetheart. I’ll be back soon, okay?”
Cas grumbled but he let go and watched as Dean got to his feet and grabbed his dead guy’s robe, which he’d insisted on taking from the bunker when they’d moved out.
Dean headed down the stairs, glancing at his watch. It was eight in the morning, which wasn’t exactly early but definitely wasn’t late enough.
He swung open the door with one hand, rubbing his eyes with the other. In front of him stood a particularly bored looking delivery woman. Her eyes flicked over him with an expression of vague disgust and she thrust a package into his hands.
“Delivery for Jack Kline-Winchester,” she said.
Dean sighed. “Jack!”
Jack’s door creaked open – Dean really needed to oil the hinges – and footsteps came thundering down the stairs. Jack was already dressed in his favourite yellow t-shirt and flared jeans. He beamed when he saw the package.
“Do I have to sign for it?” he asked.
“No,” the delivery woman said. “Have a great day.”
She said it with all the muster of a person about to walk into a bathroom when they’ve just discovered a massive spider on the toilet. Dean shut the door.
“What’s all this?” Dean asked. “You know, when we set you up with a card, I didn’t expect packages at all hours of the day.”
“It’s one package,” Jack said, “and I’ve been waiting for it for weeks.”
“Well, open it,” Dean said, admittedly quite curious now. Eagerly, Jack tore open the box and ripped through the packaging to pull out a t-shirt.
“A t-shirt?” Dean asked.
Jack grinned. “Not just any t-shirt.”
He spun it around to reveal a strange creature on the front. It had the head and wings of a moth but with a man’s body and glowing red eyes.
“Mothman,” Jack said.
“Creative,” Dean replied.
“Isn’t it great?” Jack said, hugging the t-shirt to his chest. “I love it so much already!”
Dean started smiling. Jack’s joy was infectious.
“You better wear it,” he said.
“I will,” Jack promised. “I’m going to go put it on right now.”
“Okay,” Dean said. “I’m going back to bed.”
He did just that, rolling back under the duvet and into Cas’s arms.
“Who was it?” Cas mumbled, welcoming Dean back with a kiss.
“Delivery for Jack. Kid’s got a wallet and now he’s a monster,” Dean said. Cas chuckled.
“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
“He got a mothman t-shirt.”
Cas frowned. “A mothman?”
Dean waved it off. “I’ll explain later. Can we go back to sleep?”
Cas kissed Dean’s forehead, smiling. “Of course, love.”
+1 – 18 years old
“You ready to go?” Dean asked, shutting the car boot.
“I’m ready,” Jack said, getting into the back of Baby. Dean nodded, taking a minute to himself to breathe in deeply and gather himself up.
He got in the driver’s seat, looking over at Cas in the passenger’s. Cas was looking stoically out of the window, pretending he was fine like he had been for the past few months. Dean wasn’t good with this mental health stuff. He had a therapist, had done since Jack came back, and was miles better than he was, but he still didn’t know how to deal with Cas’s empty nest syndrome. Jack leaving was hard on the both of them.
It was a part of life but all Dean could see when he looked at Jack was the little boy screaming for his ice cream. Jack was grown up now, a legal adult. Dean wasn’t sure he was quite ready for that. He wasn’t sure he ever would be.
“You both okay?” Jack asked from the backseat. “I know this is a lot but I’m really excited.”
“University will be good for you,” Dean said, “and all we want is what’s best for you.”
“I know,” Jack said, “but if you need to be upset with me…”
“We’re not upset,” Cas spoke up. Jack shot him a look. “Okay, we’re upset but not with you. Never with you, bee. You’re growing up.”
“Wish you could’ve stayed tiny forever,” Dean grumbled.
“It’s going to be okay. You know that, dads?”
Dean and Cas smiled at each other.
“We know.”