Chapter Text
Dean
Dean didn’t know who was more excited for the short fall break coming up, him or his kids. Deciding not to make his students hate him, Dean had given his large quarter-year test the day before, putting on a movie and allowing the kids to goof off on their last day of classes. Most of them seemed to know how much of a gift he was giving them and kept fairly well behaved, all things considered, and Dean was able to catch up on his email and some paperwork for the school.
Just before his sixth period class ended, he noticed Jack and Claire huddled together talking about something. She seemed agitated, like she was trying to convince Jack to do something, and Jack wasn’t having any of it. Dean wanted to intervene, but given their history, he was sure Jack wouldn’t react well, so he let it be. Eventually Claire angrily moved to another desk, and Jack put his head down on his, and Dean couldn’t help it, his heart went out to the kid. Since the conference with Cast- Mr. Milton, Jack’s behavior has become tolerable, and Dean is relieved he hasn’t had to email Jack’s father again. Totally, 100% relieved that he doesn’t have a single excuse to communicate with him in any way.
Dean nearly knocks his head against his own desk.
When the bell rang, Dean called Jack over, Claire hesitating in the doorway until Jack waved her away.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Winchester?” Dean ignore the attitude in Jack’s voice.
“I just wanted to take a moment and thank you for improving your behavior these last couple weeks.” Dean smiles when Jack’s scowl is replaced with surprise.
“Uh, thanks, I guess,” Jack shrugs, his hand fiddling with his bag strap.
“I know we started off on the wrong foot,” Dean goes on, “but I want you to know I don’t hate you, contrary to what you might think. It might surprise you to know I was almost exactly like you in high school.”
“So, what, we’re supposed to bond over how crappy a student you were, too?” Jack’s scowl is back, the moment of vulnerability lost. “If you’re going to feed me some stupid crap about how you ‘turned out okay’, I’ll pass.” Jack turned for the door.
“I lost my mother, too” Dean blurts, and it makes Jack pause. “Raised by a single father who thought he knew what was best for his kids.” Jack doesn’t turn around. “Listen, Jack, I’m not trying to be your best friend, but if you need anything…”
“Yeah, I get it. Thanks, but no thanks for this little bonding moment.” Jack quickly leaves the classroom, and Dean sighs heavily as the door closes behind him. Well, at least he tried.
Gathering up all the tests and everything he’ll need for the weekend, Dean decided to call it a day, stopping by the main office to check out and walking to his car to head home.
Sam’s on a night rotation for the weekend, so he’s already gone to work by the time Dean gets home from school. Taking advantage of the empty apartment, Dean changes into sweatpants and a ratty old tshirt, ordering a pizza for dinner since Sam won’t be around to judge him. He grabs a beer and has just popped it open when his phone rings. The ringtone (the Eleventh Doctor’s theme) tells him who it is without him even looking.
“Hey, Charlie, what’s up?”
“Hey, I noticed Jack seemed a little distracted in my class today, and I think my class is the only one that he actually enjoys. Has something else happened?”
“He was arguing with the Novak girl, Claire, during my class period but nothing disruptive.” Dean sips at his beer. “Why are you calling me about this anyway?”
“Well, I know you’ve kinda taken a shine to the kid-”
“A shine? Charlie he hates me.”
“Don’t argue with me, Winchester, you know you care about him.” Dean scowls but he has to admit she has a point. “And anyway, if there had been another problem I was going to give you some pointers on contacting Jack’s dad. You know, the one you haven’t been able to stop talking about?”
“That’s- I’m not-” Dean’s voice cracks and he clears his throat, bringing his voice back to it’s normal pitch. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Mmhmm. You know… you could just call him.”
“Yeah, okay,” Dean snorts, “because that’s not unethical, or awkward, or anything.”
“It’s not unethical ,” Charlie scoffs, and Dean can feel her eye roll through the phone.
“I’m his kid’s teacher, Charlie, aren’t there rules and shit like that?” There’s a long enough pause that Dean checks his phone to make sure the call hadn’t dropped. “Charlie?”
“Okay, so don’t get mad at me or anything but after our last conversation where you ‘totally didn’t’ talk about Jack’s dad I...did some digging.”
“You what?”
“Well, you were all twitterpated, and I know you weren’t going to do anything about it, so I just thought I’d check the rules for you.” She sounds almost crestfallen, and Dean takes a deep breath, knowing her heart was in the right place anyway.
“Well you gonna leave me hanging here?!” He isn’t even embarrassed by how desperate he sounds at this point.
“Oh! Right, yeah, I, uh, combed through the County teacher’s handbook backwards and forwards, along with the teachers union contract...oh! And checked for any previous civil suits filed in the county. Basically, there’s nothing there. You can totally go hunt down that DILF Mr. Milton!” Dean’s insides are doing something weird, a mix of excitement and anxiety giving him a stomach ache.
“That’s great and all but, Charlie...I don’t even know the guy.”
“But you want to, don’t you?” Dean opens his mouth to object, but…
“Damn it.” He slumps in defeat, because hell yes he wants to get to know this guy, at least more about him than the fact that he has the perfect ass.
“That’s what I thought.” Charlie is gleeful in her victory, and Dean can picture her shit eating grin. “So, you technically have the guy’s number…”
“No, what?! I’m not cold calling the guy using the school’s information, that’s just creepy.”
“Wow, you are such a baby.”
“Shut up, this is all your fault anyway.”
“And one day you’ll thank me for it.” She sighs heavily. “I know we haven’t known each other that long, but I think getting yourself out there would do you some good.” Dean’s indignation softens with her genuine concern, and he rubs his fingers tiredly along his forehead.
“I don’t know, Charlie, he’s Jack’s Dad. Don’t you think that’ll make things more awkward between us?” There’s a knock on the door and Dean retrieves his pizza from the delivery kid.
“Maybe Jack seeing you outside of a teacher role will help him get to know you, make him see he doesn’t have to mouth off just to prove himself to you,” Charlie’s voice is reasonable and it makes Dean want to believe it.
“And you’re totally sure there’s no rule I’d be breaking?”
“None, you worry wart.” Dean hears an electronic beeping in the background of the call. “Crap! Okay, I gotta go, my guild is asking me to help them clear this dungeon.”
“Nerd,” Dean chuckles.
“Whatever. Just let me know when you set up your first date!” She hangs up before Dean can say anything else, and Dean groans, grabbing his beer and downing half of it in one go.
Dean wakes up suddenly, disoriented to the point he almost falls out of bed. He’d been dreaming about a bar, and about teaching Castiel how to play pool. It was a nice dream, and yeah, maybe it was a nice dream, too, but whatever, Dean couldn’t control his subconscious. The harsh ring of his phone pierces his eardrum, and he grabs for it, jabbing at it with his thumb till he answers the call.
“The hell do you want, it’s 3:30 in the morning,” he grouses.
“Sorry to disturb your beauty sleep,” Sam scoffs, “but I need you to come pick me up from work in an hour.”
“Wait, what?” Dean tries to shake the sleep out of his head.
“My car won’t start, and yes, before you ask, we tried jumping it, I checked the spark plug, and the battery is relatively new.” Dean turns on his bedside light to try and keep himself from falling back to sleep.
“So you buying that crappy Honda whatever, which I told you not to buy in the first place, is suddenly my problem?”
“Look, I’ve already called AAA, the tow truck is on it’s way to take it to the nearest garage, but no one will be able to look at it till Monday.” A memory surfaces at Sam’s words.
He was elbows deep in an old Dodge, and he was half tempted to climb the whole way in if it meant he’d avoid that conversation.
“I asked you a question,” John snapped, and he drew himself up to his full height, the letter nearly crushed in his fist.
“It’s an acceptance letter. I’m going back to school.”
“The hell for?”
“Dad, I can be more than this,” Dean had said. “I can do more with my life, like Sam.”
“And what about me, huh?”
“You’ve got Garth, Ash, Roy, and Walt, it’s not like you really need me.”
“Your brother put these ideas in your head,” John had seethed, “and now you’re abandoning your family for this bullshit.”
“Sammy is family!” Dean shouted as he climbed out of the car and tugged his work overalls off. “Too bad you forgot that when he refused to listen to you.” Dean turned and walked towards the exit.
“You walk out that door I best not see you walk back through it again!” John’s shout rang loud in Dean’s ears, but he walked out just the same.
“Fuck the garage,” Dean grunts, pushing himself to his feet and out of his memory. “Have them bring it here, I’ll fix the damn car, and you can pay me the money you would have paid those garage assclowns.”
“Assclowns?”
“Shut up, Sam.”
“Dean, I gotta get back to work, are you coming to get me or not?”
“Yes, I’ll come rescue you,” Dean scoffs.
“Okay, my shift is scheduled to end at 4:30 but if something comes up I might have to stay on a bit longer. See you in a bit!” Sam is already talking to someone else as he hangs up the phone, and Dean digs his knuckles into his eyes.
It’s Sunday, the last day of his short break, and he was supposed to be sleeping late and doing absolutely nothing, having finished grading the last of the tests the night before. Nope, apparently he has to get out of bed before the sun and go fetch his moose of a brother because he decided to buy some cheap, crappy import instead of a decent car.
He pulls on his jeans from the day before, grabbing a clean t-shirt and tugging a blue plaid flannel on over top, not even bothering to try and fix his sleep mussed hair before making his way out to the kitchen. The coffee can isn’t on the counter, so Dean goes into the pantry.
It isn’t there either.
“Fuck me,” he groans. They’re out of coffee. Sam wakes him up at three fucking thirty and he had used the last of their coffee. Grabbing his messenger bag so he can pretend to at least be productive, he tugs on his shoes and leaves for the hospital early, figuring he can grab some coffee and breakfast when he gets there. The only saving grace is that at least there’s no traffic on the road, and he makes it to the hospital in decent time, parking and making his way inside. He stops by reception to have them page Sam and let him know Dean was there, and walked to the little cafe.
After two cups of coffee and two donuts, Dean has effectively claimed one of the tables as his own, still fairly close to the coffee pot incase he needs a third cup. It’s an hour past when Sam’s shift was supposed to end and Dean’s grateful he had the presence of mind to grab his bag when he left the house half conscious. He’s going over his upcoming lesson plans and trying to figure out what’s going to be on his midterm when he senses a presence walking up to his table.
“About damn time,” Dean huffs, “we should get something to eat before we head home.” Dean finishes a note in his planner before glaring up at-
Oh, that wasn’t Sam.
“Sadly, I have to get home, otherwise I’d take you up on that offer.” The man raises an eyebrow at Dean as he passed by on the way to the coffee pot. He was wearing scrubs and an ID badge and Dean’s brain starts to stumble over itself when he recognizes the tufts of dark hair and the blue eyes.
“Mr. Milton?!” he blurts.
“I told you, call me Cas,” he says, setting his own overstuffed messenger bag down and pouring himself a cup of coffee.
“I, uh, I just...you’re a nurse.” Dean can feel his ears turn red as he forgets how to English, but Castiel- Cas- simply smiles.
“I am a nurse, yes.” Castiel sips at his coffee and sighs. “I take it I’m not the one you were expecting.” He looks over at Dean, cradling his cup in both hands.
“No, I, uh, I’m waiting on my brother, he’s running a bit late,” Dean explains.
“Is your brother Sam?” Cas asks.
“Um, yeah, you know him?”
“It’s a big hospital, but not that big,” Cas shrugs. “Besides, not many people with the last name Winchester either.”
“Ah, makes sense.” Cas stands there stiffly as Dean scrambles for something else to say, and when no words seem to come to him Cas fidgets slightly before picking up his bag.
“So this is...weird. I’m just gonna, I’m gonna go-“ Dean could kick himself because Cas was right there and he was about to let him walk away.
“No, wait!” Dean blurts, pushing himself to his feet suddenly. Cas turns back to face him with a bemused look. He has a dusting of stubble over his cheeks and shadows under his eyes, and he just looks tired . Dean’s next sentence comes easy. “I just, you should sit for a bit. Being on your feet all day you’re probably exhausted.” He gestures back at the table lamely, hoping against hope he wasn’t being too creepy or awkward.
“You sure?” Cas asks. “I won’t be a bother?”
“No, of course not,” Dean assures him. “I’m just going over some lesson plans.” Cas still seems hesitant, so Dean tries his best disarming smile. “Take a load off, Cas.” Cas hesitates for a moment more before setting his bag down next to Dean’s table, dropping into one of the empty chairs. Dean sits back down, pulling his planner closer to him so Cas has room to set his coffee down.
“Thanks,” Cas says, and Dean doesn’t miss the small sigh of relief when he relaxes into the chair. “How was your break?” It takes Dean a moment before he remembers Cas would know about their school break because of Jack.
“Nice and boring, just grading tests mostly.”
“Boring is a good thing?”
“Yeah,” Dean smiles. “When school is going on I don’t get a lot of time to myself.”
“I know the feeling,” Cas says almost to himself. He looks up at Dean, and Dean can’t help but feel he’s getting the same once over he gave Cas. He shifts in his chair, but doesn’t look away when Cas meets his eyes. “With no less awkward way to ask this, I’m afraid I don’t know your name?”
“Wow, sorry Cas,” Dean laughs and Cas smiles too. “My name is Dean.”
“Dean,” Cas repeats. “A lot easier to swallow than Castiel.”
“I like your name,” Dean blurts. “It’s...different.”
“Different?” Cas hums.
“Not bad different,” Dean clarifies quickly. “Just, you know, something that stands out, something memorable.” Cas hums at that, fingers idly turning his coffee cup.
“Sometimes a face is so memorable I don’t need a name,” Cas shrugs with a small smile, and before Dean can figure out if that was about him Sam finally shows up.
“Hey, Cas! I see you met my brother, Dean!” Sam claps Dean on the shoulder and Dean brushes his hand off, for some reason embarrassed by it.
“Yes, he’s been decent company.” Cas is looking up at Sam, thankfully, so he doesn’t see Dean blush.
“Alright, Sammy let’s hit the road,” Dean huffs, scrambling to get his stuff gathered. In his hurry, his messenger bag flips, and a good number of his graded tests slide out across the table. Cursing and flushing crimson, Dean scrambles to gather them up as Sam laughs. Cas starts to help gather them up, but he pauses after a moment.
Dean looks over and sees Jack’s test poking out of the top of the stack, the letter D in bright red ink clearly visible.
Dean’s stomach drops into his feet as Cas slowly hands him the papers, an unreadable expression on his face. The fact that he was Jack’s teacher surged to the forefront of his mind, and he feels utterly stupid for even thinking Cas would see him as anything but . He was a father, and that was going to come before anything he would be to Dean.
“Oh, shit. Cas, I totally forgot I was supposed to take you home before my car crapped out on me.” Sam turns to Dean, puppy eyes already activated. Oh shit , he wants Dean to give Cas a ride home.
“It’s fine, Sam,” Cas says quickly. “The bus runs in about an hour, it’s not like it’ll be the first time I’ve taken it.”
“An hour?! Dude that sucks.” Sam glances at Dean with a look that says he knows he’s about to get in trouble. “I’m sure Dean can drop you by your apartment real quick, it’s no problem.”
“No, I don’t want to be a bother,” Cas insists. Sam isn’t going to let this go, so Dean figures he might as well step in.
“It’s fine,” he says, trying to make sure he doesn’t sound like he’s freaking out. “Not a problem.”
“You sure?” Cas is looking at him again, his face unreadable. “I mean, I don’t mind waiting.”
“Course I’m sure, taking the bus is lame.” Dean waves away his objection, even if on the inside he’d like nothing more than to leave both Cas and Sam behind.
“Okay, great!” Sam claps his hands together smiling at them both. Dean nearly slaps the smile off his face. As if things weren’t awkward enough with his failed attempt at making conversation with Cas, now he was going to be stuck in a car with him for the foreseeable future.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
*****
Cas
Cas chats with Sam about his day quietly as they walk through the parking lot behind Dean.
Dean.
Cas had been wondering about his name for weeks, and Dean wasn’t exactly what he was expecting, but it fit. Simple, straightforward, yet it sat pleasantly on his lips, easy to say… Cas wants to smack himself for the direction his brain keeps turning. He’d made an utter fool of himself, almost flirting with Dean over a cup of coffee like in those trashy stories Meg reads, and his brain just won’t stop. Naturally, Jack’s test had popped up and now things were nice and awkward, there was no way Dean would consider even going on a single date with him. Not only was Dean way out of Cas’ league, he was the father of one of Dean’s students.
Doesn’t stop his mind from continuing to wander as they walk, thinking about the dusting of freckles, the too plush lips, those green eyes, and the cute way his blushes start from Dean’s ears then work their way to the rest of his face.
God, what was wrong with him? Jack's poor grade had hardly even registered, his mind too distracted by the man in front of him. Even now he’s struggling to focus on Sam’s voice, because apparently he has a thing for bow legs… well, at least this set of them, anyway. It was too bad Dean didn’t have much of an ass to speak of…
“Do you want the front or the back?” Sam is asking, and Cas finally snaps out of it, finding himself standing next to a sleek black muscle car, obviously a few decades old.
“Um, backseat is fine,” he says, and Sam moves to the front passenger seat, leaning in to unlock the back door for him. Dean’s already in the driver’s seat so Cas quickly climbs inside, his senses immediately bombarded with the smell of leather and the musky scent of man.
“So where to?” Dean asks, starting the car. The engine roars to life and it startles Cas slightly, vibrating up through his feet and into his bones. “Cas?” He looks up to give directions he can see Dean’s smirk.
“We live down Kirkman Road,” he explains, and Dean nods, pulling them out of the parking lot and turning south.
“The tow truck will drop my car off in a few hours,” Sam says to Dean. Cas is only half listening, watching the city go by as they drive down the almost empty streets.
“I can’t promise I’ll get it fixed quick, with school back in session,” Dean answers Sam.
“I get that,” Sam sighs tiredly, like he’s had this lecture a hundred times before.
“Wait, you fix cars?” Cas blurts.
“Been doing it my whole life,” Dean nods, glancing at him in the mirror. “You seem surprised.”
“Sorry, I just...I didn’t really picture you doing that.” Cas shrugs, and Dean smirks.
“Didn’t really picture you being a nurse,” Dean shoots back. Sam’s gaze bounces between them, obviously confused, and Cas turns away to hide his embarrassment.
“Did you...have you guys met before?” Sam wonders. Cas fidgets with the strap of his bag.
“He’s my son’s math teacher,” Cas admits.
“Yeah, I uh...that conference I mentioned to you…” Dean seems embarrassed, though Cas isn’t sure why.
“That’s awesome! And kinda hilarious,” Sam laughs, and Cas stares at him incredulously. “I mean it!” Sam turns to his brother. “Dean, Cas is my best friend, I’ve been meaning to introduce you for a while, but the timing of our shifts is always off.” Dean looks back and Cas manages a weak smile.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dean,” he says, and Dean laughs.
“Back at you.” Dean turns back to Sam. “So about my fee for fixing your car…” The brothers start to bicker about Sam’s car, and Cas loses track of the conversation, trying to tell himself he’s just tired , and that’s the only reason he’s having trouble focusing. It’s not that he’s picturing Dean in greasy jeans and a dirty t-shirt, bent over the hood of this particular car, sweaty and determined as his muscles bunch and-
He’s my son’s math teacher. His own words echo back through his brain and he slumps back against the seat in defeat, his ill time fantasy quelled by the common sense of reality. Taking a few deep breaths, he forces his brain back into being responsible, and Jack’s test score comes to mind. He thought Jack’s problem had started to fix itself, after all he’d been a little more his usual self at home lately, but apparently instead of acting out he’s now simply neglecting his coursework. Cas makes a mental note to ask him about it when he’s had a chance to get some sleep.
“Cas?” He blinks and looks up at Sam. “Hey, man, you okay?” They’re at his apartment complex already, and he feels embarrassed that Sam had to tell Dean how to get there.
“Yeah,” Cas says quickly, climbing out of the car and heading for the stairs. He pauses, turning back to look at Dean through the car window. “Thank you, for this.” Dean smiles, and it should not make Cas’ insides do a weird dance.
“Sure thing, Cas.” The brothers wave and pull away, and Cas tiredly stumbles up the stairs and into his apartment. Jack is passed out on the couch, a game controller resting precariously on his chest as it moves in slumber, and Cas smiles fondly, a memory creeping up on him.
“Okay, okay, he’s asleep,” Cas hissed as he shooed Meg out of the room, the baby monitor in his hand.
“What are you going to do when I eventually move out?” Meg chuckled.
“Don’t remind me.” Cas has walked to the couch and collapsed, sure he was about to pass out. He had barely managed to lift his arm to set the baby monitor next to his ear and Cas sighed, bone tired.
“You are well and truly wrapped around that little cherub’s finger,” Meg had shaken her head in amazement, but Cas remembered feeling nothing but pride.
“He’s my son,” he said assuredly.
“What happened to living free, backpacking around the country...you know that thing you’ve been planning on doing since forever?” Her voice had bordered on accusatory, but Cas had known there was no real venom to it.
“That all changed when Kelly got pregnant,” he pointed out, and Meg had shut up after that. They sat in silence, Cas had listened to Jack breathe, and in that moment he’d felt the world around him change.
Cas sets the controller on the coffee table before heading to his room, setting his bag next to his laundry hamper and shucking his clothes, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and falling into bed. As weird as his day had been, Cas was feeling torn between the kid in the living room and the man with the green eyes. Being Jack’s father would always come first, there was no doubt in his mind about that, but Jack was getting older, and in a couple years he’d be off to college. Cas hadn’t wanted anything for himself since Jack had come into his life, but then he’d met Dean and suddenly he found himself wanting , on a few different levels.
Wondering how weird it would be to reply to Dean’s email asking for his phone number, Cas opens his gmail account. He deletes the usual spam as he tries to work up his courage, but then something in his inbox catches his eye. The email address itself is odd , the username was the word anonymously but it was a gmail account . Knowing it’s probably just another one of those annoying porn spams, something makes Cas open the email anyway.
You really thought you could hide from me forever?
One sentence, and his blood runs completely cold, a terrifying panic gripping him. He drops his phone, scooting away from it and falling out of bed, continuing to scoot till he’s backed into the corner of his room. He hugs his knees, shutting his eyes and trying to breathe.
Meg. He has to tell Meg.
Eventually his body relaxes enough to allow him to move forward. He doesn’t even want to touch his phone but he shakily crawls back over to it, quickly deleting and blocking the email before he pulls up messenger. With trembling hands, he pulls up Meg’s conversation and types.
You: He found us.
Three terrifying words he hoped he’d never even have to consider, were now a reality. He waits, watching the screen as it comes up delivered, then read, then watches the three grey dots.
Meg: Oh god.
Meg: What are we going to do?
Cas takes a deep breath and tries to think, his brain focusing on the sleeping baby in his memory and the sleeping teen in his living room.
You: Protect him. Whatever it takes.