73. Chapter 73

It was December 1st and it was snowing again. Dean didn’t know how, exactly, he knew what the date was, but he did: it had been eight days since their fateful Thanksgiving. He must’ve been keeping track without realizing; it was something he’d learned to do unconsciously over the years because it was so easy for time to blur together when you were focused on a hunt, but sometimes the date could matter a lot. Particularly when it came to creatures like werewolves.

He stood at the window in the living room and watched the fat snowflakes drifting past the glass. This would be a snowfall that stayed, he could tell. He, Castiel and Gabriel had gone for a walk yesterday and the ground had been frozen. When had that happened? It seemed like summer had been just last week, and he’d gone for a swim in the lake and come home with a bad sunburn. Now it was snowing and Christmas was less than a month away.

He set a hand against the cold glass to get a better look at whether the snow had covered the grass. His breath was fogging it up, making it hard to see. That made him think of the way he and Sammy used to breathe on the windows in the Impala and make pictures when they were bored. John always got mad at them for putting their fingers on the glass. He suddenly realized that he hadn’t even seen his car in months.

It was a staggering realization. Dean couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone without seeing the Impala for so long. A wave of guilt rolled over him and he glanced over his shoulder. Castiel and Gabriel were in the kitchen, having a quiet conversation while they cleaned up from breakfast. They couldn’t have been talking about anything too interesting, or else they would’ve been talking silently. The important thing was that neither one of them were paying any attention to him.

He’d have to leave the nest, and his daddy, for this. He hesitated for several long moments, internally wrestling with himself. He hadn’t left Castiel’s side while awake since they’d been reunited. But he was suddenly filled with a pressing need to see the Impala, and he didn’t want an angel hovering over him while he did. That was what decided him. He could do this if he knew Castiel and Gabriel were safe inside.

So very quietly, Dean crept over to the door. Gabriel had shown up a few days ago with boots and a new, green winter coat for Dean to wear. It fit perfectly, of course, as all of his clothing did. He pulled it on over his shirt, then jammed his feet into the black boots. He wasn’t wearing socks, but that was alright. The boots were thick enough that he doubted his feet would get cold. He slowly opened the door and, holding his breath, slipped outside onto the porch. His feet crunched in the snow as he gently shut the door behind him.

It wasn’t as cold outside as he was expecting it to be. He stood there for a moment, looking out over the yard and letting his racing heart calm a little, before he walked down the steps. As he’d guessed, enough snow had accumulated to cover the grass. It actually felt like Christmas now, though whether or not that was a good thing remained to be seen. He took big steps, lifting his knees, and smiled to see the trail of perfectly formed footprints he was leaving behind him as he made his way over to the far side of the cabin.

When Castiel had first brought him here, Dean had noticed but not really paid attention to the small garage that was mostly behind the cabin. He’d known that was where the Impala was being stored, but there’d been so much going on and Dean had been in such a horrible state of mind that he hadn’t thought to actually go look. Now, he put a hand on the knob, wincing at how cold it was, and pushed the door open.

“Hi Baby,” he breathed, looking at the car. His beautiful car. It was warm in the garage, which was a blessing. He would’ve hated for the Impala to go through a cold winter.

He walked over to the car, lightly trailing his fingers over the hood. He’d been expecting that it would need a wash and a full wax – he hadn’t done that since before they’d won against Lucifer and Michael, and dirt and dust were a car’s worst enemy. Immediately following their win, Dean hadn’t been in the best frame of mind. He’d felt like he was holding it together just fine at the time, but now, in retrospect, he could tell that with Sam and Castiel gone, he’d barely been able to string two words together. He knew he’d gone on hunts alone, but how he’d won them was a whole different question entirely.

But to his surprise, the Impala was as clean and shiny as though he’d spent a full day washing it. Dean eyed it critically, but there wasn’t a speck of dust on the interior or exterior. He opened the driver’s side door and sniffed, but there was no musty smell. There wasn’t even a small of old fast food. It smelled almost like the car was brand new, and he knew that it had to be an angel’s doing.

“Figures,” Dean said with a sigh, sliding into the seat. He grimaced as his wings pressed up uncomfortably against the back of the seat. He hadn’t anticipated that problem. He spent a moment trying to find a comfortable position before he finally had to lean forward, resting his arms against the steering wheel.

“Damn, how far I’ve fallen,” he muttered, staring through the windshield. All that was there was the front of the garage, of course, but in his mind’s eye he could see the highway.

He and Sam had spent more than one Christmas in the back of this car.

Angry at himself, Dean wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. What the hell was the matter with him? Christmas had never meant that much to him in the past. It had always been more important to Sammy. Dean hadn’t had the luxury of caring about a holiday when he had to worry about learning to be a better hunter. But maybe that was the problem. Now that he could spend his days going what he wanted, he wanted Christmas.

A knock on the window startled him badly enough that his bladder released. Dean recoiled, one hand flying to his chest. He found himself blinking up at Castiel, who was leaning down so that he could look through the window. Dean stared at him for several seconds. The last time someone had snuck up on him in the Impala, Dean had grabbed a gun and nearly shot them.

“May I?” Castiel asked, voice audible even through the glass, and Dean nodded slowly. He watched as Castiel crossed around the front of the car, opened the passenger’s side door, and got in. He couldn’t have said why, but he really appreciated the fact that Castiel didn’t just fly into the car.

They sat in silence for several minutes before Dean, looking ahead through the windshield, spoke .“Last time you and I sat in this car, you asked me to be your Little.”

“So I did,” Castiel said, stretching his wings out. One wrapped around Dean, immediately cushioning Dean’s wings. Dean sighed, leaning into the touch before he really thought about it.

“Sorry. I know I’m not supposed to leave the house,” he mumbled.

“Dean, you don’t have to apologize for needing some space. Gabriel and I knew you’d left. I do wish you’d said something, but I understand why you didn’t.” Castiel went quiet for a moment, then added, “You were crying. Would you tell me why?”

“I don’t know,” Dean admitted. “Not really. I just…” He paused, frustrated at his inability to put his confusing emotions into words.

“Is this about Christmas?”

Startled, Dean’s head snapped around. “W-what?!”

Castiel met his gaze with calm eyes. “I know that it’s coming up, and I know that your family used to celebrate it. Gabriel and I have been making plans for us to have Christmas, too.”

“You… you have?”

“Yes. We were planning to surprise you.”

Dean’s mouth hung open. He honestly didn’t know what to say. “But… but you’re not religious.” He made a face, suddenly realizing he’d said that to an angel, and amended, “I mean, you’re not religious the way some humans are. You guys don’t really go on in for that crap.”

“No, we don’t. However, that doesn’t mean we can’t celebrate a secular Christmas because it’s important to you. What’s important to you is important to me, and to your uncle.” Castiel put a hand on Dean’s knee and squeezed gently.

Dean was speechless. He stared at Castiel, shocked, and couldn’t think of a single thing to say in response. It had never once occurred to him that the angels might want to celebrate the holiday considering all of the time and money it would tak, to the point where they would start planning a surprise for him. He’d fully expected that Christmas would pass by without mention. Castiel smiled at his continued silence, though it was a sad smile.

“Dean, we want to make you happy. You deserve that. I wish that you could’ve told us you wanted a Christmas,” Castiel said softly.

That was something Dean knew how to answer. He dropped his gaze. “I – my father used to get angry at us if we brought up Christmas. He didn’t want to hear about it after my mom died. I think it made him upset to remember her, so he always preferred to just… ignore it. Sammy and I always exchanged gifts, and when we were kids we’d try to put up a shitty little tree or something, but…” He trailed off.

“I’m not your father.”

Dean jerked his head up, wide-eyed. “No! Of course you’re not! I know that, Daddy, I swear,” he said quickly, horrified that Castiel’s thoughts had gone in that direction. “I didn’t mean – I – ”

“It’s okay,” Castiel murmured, his wing tightening around Dean’s shoulders. “I understand what you meant. Had I known this was bothering you so much, I would’ve said something before. I think celebrating Christmas with you and Gabriel, and Bobby and Jody and Sam, sounds like a lot of fun.”

“I… that would be nice,” Dean admitted. Nice? It sounded amazing. He couldn’t think of a better way to spend December 25th, particularly since their Thanksgiving hadn’t gone so well. And now that the rogue demons had been dealt with, they wouldn’t need to worry about another attack.

“Then we’ll make it happen,” Castiel said. “I talked to Bobby, Jody and your mother about things you might like to do, but if there’s something specific you want then you need to let me know.”

Castiel was still talking, but Dean’s brain had seized on two vital words. “Wait – my mother?”

“Yes. I went to heaven to talk to her.”

“You…” Dean stared at him, stunned. “You did?”

“In a roundabout way, it was Jody’s suggestion. It seemed like the best way to figure out what you might like.” Castiel frowned for the first time. “Is that okay?”

“Is that okay?” Dean repeated. “Of course it’s okay. I just… I never really thought about you getting to see her.” Embarrassingly, his voice cracked. He wished he had enough grace to go to heaven too. His memories of his mother seemed so small and scattered compared to everything that he wanted to know about her.

“We don’t visit humans very often, but this seemed like a special occasion where it was warranted,” Castiel told him. “Someday, I’ll take you to see her as well.”

“I’d like that,” Dean whispered, leaning across the seat until he could put his head on Castiel’s shoulder, momentarily overwhelmed by the realization that Castiel had put so much effort into figuring out Christmas. For Dean. He couldn’t stop the small smile that crossed his face.