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Meg frowned at the potato in her hands. Cas had been to the store just yesterday, she should have had him pick some up. There were pale sprouts all over and the flesh of the root was squishy. She was not feeding that to her family. Part of her still hated throwing away food, even when it was bad. Habits left over from her and Cas living on ramen and generic ravioli in college still stuck with her nearly twenty years later.
The day was frustrating enough without a late dinner complicating things. The PTA meeting had been eventful to say the least. It seemed like Lilith was still holding a grudge over the fact that there was “no tangible proof” that Meg had indeed been the one to slash her tires. She could just see Cas’ air quotes around the phrase, a smile quirking the edge of her lips as she went through the rest of the plastic sack sitting on the counter.
There was a light drizzle outside, summer quickly turning to fall, much to her chagrin. Meg wasn’t made for cooler weather. Cas was a freak that loved to be outside raking leaves and shoveling snow, but Meg preferred running in the warmth and sunshine. Part of it may also have been the rather adorable fascination her husband seemed to have for honeybees and songbirds, but only she needed to know that. A light tap of a pen on the dinner table caught her attention, her husband frowning at a small stack of paperwork scattered in front of him.
The clock on the oven read 9:03 in bright green digits, like it was made to mock her. It was bad enough that dinner was two hours late, but it was Friday and any of the usual delivery options would take longer than her heating a pan and frying some ground pork.
She’d managed to pick out three good potatoes to throw into the microwave and started to rinse them when a knock sounded at the door. Cas looked up at her, a bewildered expression on his face that matched how she felt. They didn’t normally get visitors this late, not since Cas’ cousin Gabriel went on a tour of Eastern Europe for their family’s company. The knock came again, a little louder and more insistent. Meg quickly dried her hands on a dish towel and stepped out into the living room.
“Coming!” Their porch light wasn’t even on, who in the hell? She opened the door and looked up to find Dean Winchester looking down at her, soaked completely through his clothing and shivering out of his skin. “Dean, oh my God! Get inside, come on.” Meg grabbed the boy by the elbow and yanked him inside, kicking the door shut behind him. “What the hell are you doing out there without a jacket, do you want to get pneumonia?”
Dean sniffed hard and hugged himself, teeth chattering as his hair dripped. His lips were turning blue but the rest of his face was red from being beaten by the wind and rain. Cas walked in and caught the boy’s attention, Meg busying herself with reaching for a spare blanket in the coat closet.
“Dean, what happened?” Cas’ tone was wary, his eyes wide and concerned as he took in the state of their youngest son’s best friend. Meg grabbed a quilt and threw it over Dean’s shoulders, lips pursed as she bundled him up.
Dean was still shivering, taking the ends of the blanket as Meg led him over to the couch. Cas sat on the coffee table in front of him, waiting for him to be able to speak clearly. The teen in front of them was closed off, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped. Usually Dean was the life in a room, lively and animated. The only times that changed were either because of his father, or around a day that made him think of his mother. Her birthday, the anniversary of her death or her and John’s wedding date. As far as she could remember this wasn’t any of those, so it was probably John. She could already feel her barely-restrained contempt for the man turning to rage.
Dean’s voice was quiet when he spoke, his hair still dripping down to his shoulders. Meg wondered if they had any clean towels or if she should grab another blanket from upstairs. “I need a place to stay for the night until I can go to a shelter tomorrow.”
Cas put a hand on Dean’s shoulder, the boy looking up for a split second at the contact. “Dean, tell me what happened.”
Meg knew Dean looked at Cas like a father, just like he looked to her as a mother. Normally he didn’t try to hide from them. After a few seconds he closed his eyes and took a deep breath that shook out of his frame with a rather violent wave of shivers. “My dad, um... he found some pictures on my phone.”
“Pictures?” Cas clasped his hands as they sat between his legs, his and Dean’s knees almost hitting whenever one of them shifted even minutely.
Meg watched Dean’s frame trembling beneath the thick fabric wrapped around him and ground her jaw to keep from running off without the entire story. Not that she really thought it would help.
Dean refused to look up as he continued. “Yeah, um, of me and Alfie.” He swallowed roughly and hunched over further, the ends of the blanket being pulled tighter as he did. “He found pictures of us kissing. He, um, I just need a place to sleep tonight, I wo—”
Cas cut him off by yanking him forward into a hug. Dean froze for a moment before the first few tears fell from his eyes, sobs shaking him worse than the shivering. Meg stomped upstairs and violently yanked a towel from the linen closet. Samandriel cracked his door and looked out at her, but she headed back down before any questions could be asked.
Dean looked up when she rounded the corner of the coffee table and shoved the towel at him. “Go upstairs and take a shower, we’ll find you a change of clothing. All right? Go.”
A quick nod was given as Dean shed the blanket in favor of doing as he was told. Samandriel stood half-way down the steps, looking down at the display in confusion. “Mom?”
“Dean’s staying for the weekend,” the boy turned and looked at her with protests ready, but she continued, “at least.”
Samandriel shifted his weight to one foot and looked back toward the upstairs hallway. “Cool, I’ll go set up the guest bedroom.”
Dean gave her a weak smile and ran upstairs after her son. Cas stood up behind her, already moving when she headed for the garage door. “Where are you going, Meg?”
“To the Winchesters’.” The house moved around her in a blur until the keys to the car were in her palm. “I’m going to talk to John.”
Cas placed a hand on her shoulder and turned her around, reaching to take the keys from her. “Honey just breathe—”
“No! This is bullshit, Cas!” Her volume rose with every word and Cas looked back toward the stairs where their son and Dean were likely listening in. “He can’t fucking do this!”
“Meg—”
“Dean is his son, Cas. Michael didn’t like me when we started hanging out in high school, but he never kicked you out over it!” Meg turned toward the door again, but Cas spun her back around.
She opened her mouth to yell, but Cas cupped her face in his hands and kissed her, using her moment of shock to gently take the keys away. The kiss broke more quietly than it started and Cas smiled and gave her another quick peck. “You can’t be arrested for assault again, they’ll kick you back out of the PTA and you won’t be allowed to chaperone Samandriel’s field trips anymore.”
Meg took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “I hate it when you’re right.”
Cas chuckled and kissed her forehead. “For tonight, just finish dinner.”
She sighed and moved past her husband, stalking back toward the potatoes. Now she needed another one. “I’m still going to go talk to him tomorrow.”
Cas hung the keys back on the hook and came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. “At least in the morning you’ll have developed a good case for plausible deniability.”
Meg cackled as she scrubbed dirt away from the final tuber, wriggling her hips a little against her husband’s groin. “You know me too well.”
He chuckled and kissed just under her ear. “I’ve had some time to learn.”
The water pressure in the faucet decreased as the shower kicked on and she quickly shut the sink off. Cas had just sat back down when she turned to face him, one hand on her hip. “We did make sure they didn’t get into the shower together, right?”
Cas looked up with something like terror in his eyes and dropped the paper he was holding. She smiled brightly and skipped back into the living room. Not a second later her husband bolted out of his chair and started following. “Meg, what are you doing?”
Her phone sat on an end table next to the couch and she plucked it up, sliding the screen up and unlocking it with glee that clearly (and rightfully) worried Cas. “I’m going to take pictures and send them to John.”
Cas blanched and cocked his head to the side with a squint. “Of our son and his son naked?”
“I changed Samandriel’s diapers and Inias’, I’ve seen it all before. I’m going to make that asshole puke all over his phone. He thinks a kiss is bad?” When she made for the stairs Cas quickly stepped in front of her. “A kiss isn’t going to stop me this time, big guy. Pay up or get out of the way.”
The world spun as Cas grabbed her by the thighs and slung her over his shoulder. “Excluding the issues of you taking photos of our seventeen year old son naked in the shower, Dean’s a minor. You’ll be arrested for making and distributing child pornography and be declared a sex offender.”
Meg growled and shoved her hand down the back of his slacks, gripping the waistband of his boxers securely. “Let me go or I swear to God I’ll give you a wedgie.”
Her husband gave her a long-suffering sigh and adjusted her to rest more comfortably in his hold. The sound of someone clearing their throat startled both of them, Cas turning to the side fast enough to give her whiplash.
Samandriel stared down at them curiously. “I got some of Inias’ old clothes out and changed the sheets on the guest bed. Are you guys okay?”
Meg growled and wiggled until Cas put her down. “Seriously? Your boyfriend is naked in the shower in the room right across the hall and you pick out an outfit for him and make the bed?” Samandriel was turning a rather deep shade of scarlet, and Cas pinched the bridge of his nose. “You really are your father’s son.”
The phone bounced across the couch cushions, forgotten in favor of once again trying to start dinner. Cas waved away his son’s question before it could be asked. “Just go make sure Dean will be ready for dinner. We’ll call you both down.”
Samandriel nodded and all but sprinted back to his bedroom.