Dean had been so distracted by punishing the tickle monster that he hadn’t gotten a proper look at the living room. Once he did, his jaw dropped. It had been magically transformed – or, more likely, angel mojo’d – overnight. The tree and the decorations were still there, but now there were also a bunch of presents underneath the Christmas tree. At the very front of the tree was a bright red stocking with white fur around the top; he couldn’t see what was inside, but the stocking was definitely full.
“Ah, I see Santa came,” Gabriel said, sitting up and winking at Castiel. “Clearly, he came here before he realized we have a naughty little hatchling here who attacks innocent uncles.”
“Yeah, right,” Dean said, scoffing and rolling his eyes. Even though Gabriel’s behavior had improved a lot over the last couple of years, he didn’t think there was anyone out there who would deem Gabriel to be ‘innocent’. That was probably the last word that Dean would use!
“I’m afraid I have to agree with Dean on this one,” Castiel said dryly. “You are far from innocent.”
“Rude,” Gabriel said. “Just for that, I’m making myself a cup of coffee the old-fashioned way before we do anything else, and Dean-o, you’re not allowed to touch anything until I get back.” He got up and ambled into the kitchen, leaving Dean pouting after him.
“I think you could probably open up your advent calendar while you’re waiting,” Castiel said to fill the silence.
“Oh yeah!” Dean exclaimed. How could he have forgotten about his advent calendar? He had already opened up 23 of the squares. Each day had been something brand new and really cool, ranging from a toy to some exotic treat he had never tried before to a new brush for Sparks to a full package of waxing tools for the Impala. Castiel had been hinting that the last day, the 24th, was going to blow Dean away.
He got up and walked over to his advent calendar, looking at the middle square that represented the 24th. His heart was racing as he envisioned what it could be. Considering that he lived with literal angels, the answer really was ‘anything’. But it would need to be something extra special for Castiel to be excited over it. Dean reached out and gently cracked the seal on the square and pulled it open.
Grace flowed out of the square, surrounding Dean and making his hair stand on end. Far from how he used to feel about angelic grace, this grace was warm and cool at the same time. It settled on his skin like a gentle kiss, making him feel loved. He closed his eyes for a moment to savor the sensation – so he missed the moment when something settled into his hands.
Dean opened his eyes, looking down at the box in his hands. It was long but flat, roughly book shaped. He frowned slightly. He’d already gotten a few different books from the advent calendar, and he’d been very happy with them: he loved it when Castiel read to him at night. But it seemed strange that Castiel would be excited over another book, unless somehow this book was special?
Maybe they’d deemed it time for Dean to start learning how to read Enochian? He still wasn’t over how frustrated he’d been in the bookstore that day. But Balthazar had made it sound like it would be years before Dean was at that point. Unless Balthazar had been wrong? Dean did kind of like the idea of picking up an Enochian book and reading it flawlessly right in front of Sam and Bobby. Their heads would probably explode.
… Or maybe not. His smile faded as he realized that meant that Bobby would immediately put him to work translating all of the Enochian tomes that Bobby had laying around. After all, Balthazar had said that Bobby’s translations weren’t perfect, and Dean knew that Bobby would love to have a word-for-word translation of all those books. He’d never been brave enough to try and trap Castiel or another angel into translating them, but Bobby would have no compunctions about doing that to Dean…
“Dean?” Castiel said, and Dean startled and looked over at him.
“This isn’t going to teach me to read Enochian, is it?” Dean said warily.
Castiel blinked several times. “Uh… no? Your grace isn’t nearly advanced enough for that.”
“Good,” Dean said fervently. When it was time for him to learn, he planned to keep it a secret from both Sam and Bobby. As a nestling, Sam would learn someday too. Let Sam be the one who got stuck doing all that translating! At least Sam would probably enjoy it.
“Do you… want to learn to read Enochian early?” Castiel wanted to know, still looking faintly puzzled. “I could ask around and see if there are ways to do that.”
“Nope, I’m good,” Dean said, flashing him a smile. He turned back to the box, realizing that he was no closer to figuring out what was inside. What else was out there that was vaguely book-shaped, but wasn’t a book? Only one way to find out.
He slid a nail through the tape to break it and pulled the flap open. Whatever was inside was hard and wrapped up in tissue paper. Dean pulled it out and set the box on the mantle, pulling at the tissue paper. It was a picture frame, he realized, but it was upside down so he couldn’t see what it was of. He tore away the last of the tissue paper and flipped the picture right side up.
His breath caught in his throat, eyes widening.
It was a picture of a young Mary Winchester with her two children. Dean stared at the picture in wonder, taking in the details of his mother’s face. He didn’t remember seeing this picture before. In it, Mary was wearing a bright green sundress and her blonde hair was pulled back by a matching green ribbon. She was holding a baby in her arms, and a little boy was pressed up against her side.
“Mom?” he whispered. Mary looked so happy. So healthy. So unaware of what was going to happen to her in the near future. She was sitting on the porch of a house that Dean didn’t recognize – a friend’s house, maybe?
The baby in her arms had to be Sam. Dean would recognize that crinkled red face anywhere. And the little boy beside Mary had to be him: the kid was wearing a t-shirt with a train on it and jeans that Dean didn’t remember, but the familial resemblance between Mary and her little family was unmistakable. In fact, Dean had never realized before now just how much he looked like his mom.
Eyes filled with tears, he looked up at Castiel. “How did you get this? I thought…” His throat ached. He had to swallow before he could continue. “Most of the pictures were lost in the fire…”
He looked over at the other picture of Mary that hung on the wall in the living room. Castiel had already admitted to time traveling to get that one, so maybe they’d done the same thing for this one. But Dean knew how dangerous time travel could be, and how much energy it took. It seemed unlike Castiel or Gabriel would’ve done that a second time… but then again, hadn’t both angels already proven that there wasn’t much they would do for Dean? His fingers tightened on the picture frame as he stared at Castiel, waiting for an answer.
“Your parents had friends in Lawrence,” Castiel said gently.
“They… what?” Dean said, a little confused.
Castiel walked over to him, looking down at the picture. “Your father got you and Sam out of Lawrence almost immediately following the fire… but your mom, at least, had built a life there. She had plenty of friends. Gabriel and I reached out to a few of them. Some of them had held onto pictures of her. They were happy to share copies with us when we told them they were for Mary Winchester’s children.” He smoothed a few strands of hair out of Dean’s eyes. “The rest of them are in an album. We made copies for you and for Sam.”
Dean’s chest hurt. He didn’t know why he’d never thought about going back to Lawrence and asking around for friends of his mother’s. Maybe it was because John Winchester was so unfriendly. It was hard to imagine that he’d ever had friends or a typical life. But Mary wasn’t like that, or at least she wasn’t as far as Dean remembered. Of course she’d had friends, coworkers, found family…
“Do you like it?” Castiel asked, watching him anxiously. “Gabriel and I talked a lot about how best to give it to you. We weren’t sure if it would be an appropriate Christmas gift, but we also wanted you to have it. I thought we could hang it up in your nursery, since we already have that picture.” He nodded to the first picture of Mary that hung on the wall.
“It’s great,” Dean said. His voice wavered. He swallowed hard and tried to smile. It lasted right up until he looked down at the picture again and took in the beautiful smile on Mary’s face. She looked so happy. So blissfully unaware of the sight that awaited her…
A tear spilled over and rolled down his cheek, landing on the frame. The first sob still took him by surprise. Castiel immediately pulled him into a hug, holding him tightly and letting him cry. Dean buried his face in his daddy’s chest. He was really happy here with Gabriel and Castiel – happier than he ever could have imagined he’d be back when Castiel had first suggested this.
But that didn’t change the fact that he still missed his mommy. He wished that Mary could be here. She deserved to be here. Her life had been cut so short by a stupid prophecy. She was just one more casualty of the war, and there had been tons of those, but… this was different. It was personal. It was his mom. And somehow, even with his daddy and his uncle around, Dean missed her more than ever now.
“Do you think she would be proud of me?” Dean whispered, unable to look up at Castiel’s face. He was too afraid that the answer might be ‘no’.
“Oh, Dean. Your mother is incredibly proud of you,” Castiel murmured, hugging Dean a little bit tighter.
“She is?” Dean said, a few more tears rolling. The present tense caught his attention immediately.
“She watches over you every day from heaven,” Castiel told him.
Dean pulled back to look up at him in surprise. “She does? Really?”
“Yes. I’ve spoken to her before,” Castiel said, brushing a few tears from Dean’s face. “I told you that, remember? I went to ask her about the Christmas traditions that your family favored.”
“Right. I forgot about that,” Dean admitted. “So she’s – she’s proud of me? And Sammy? Really?”
“Yes. She’s very proud of you both, and she loves you very much. Someday, she’ll be able to tell you that herself,” Castiel told him. “But in the meantime, please trust me when I say she is so proud of you and the man you’ve grown up to be.”
Dean’s eyes filled with more tears again, and he reached up a hand to wipe them away. “Thanks Daddy.”
“You’re welcome, baby boy,” Castiel said, smiling at him.
“Sammy’s going to love the album,” Dean added, looking at the picture again. He knew that Sam sometimes got a little sad and jealous that Dean had a few memories of being with Mary. Maybe having an actual photo album would help with that.
“Yeah, he will,” Gabriel said, surprising Dean. His uncle walked over to them, handing a cup of coffee to Castiel.
“Do you think…” Dean trailed off.
“Do we think what?” Castiel prompted.
“Never mind,” Dean said, shaking his head. He’d been about to suggest a trip back to Lawrence, but maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. Nothing good had happened in Lawrence. Maybe it was best that Lawrence was left in the past. Right now, he could look forward to seeing his mom’s soul in heaven someday and that was more than enough.
Castiel and Gabriel exchanged looks, but they didn’t push him. Castiel hugged him again, and Gabriel took the picture of Mary, baby Sam, and young Dean and put it up on the fireplace. Dean leaned into Castiel’s embrace, staring up at the picture. He liked the look of it there.