Dean
"So get this."
Dean groaned at his brother's voice, removing the coat from his face. Cas was off in heaven doing angel-y things with Jack, and with Dean's decision to cut back on hunting, he was bored. That meant he spent most of his time cooking, watching TV, listening to music, working on Baby, hustling pool, and napping. Mostly napping.
Hey, Dean had been a hunter for nearly four decades and saved the world more times than he could count. He deserved some R&R.
"Not today, Sammy," Dean said, rolling over to avoid looking at him.
Sam wasn't deterred. He sat across from Dean on the other couch and nudged him with his boot. "You need to get off your ass and do something."
"I am doing something. I'm sleeping."
"Dude, you've been sitting around the bunker for days. And since you refuse to find other hobbies, I'm gonna put you to use."
"Have one of your other hunters do it."
Dean would never admit it to his face, but Sam had done a pretty great job as a leader to the hunters. Like he did when Michael took over Dean's body, Sam had organized a hunting operation out of the bunker complete with assigned partners and teams, check-ins, supply warehouses, dedicated research personnel, the occasional FBI/CIA/CDC/other law enforcement stand-in, and case-distribution system that worked like a charm. Dean was actually impressed by the sophistication of it all. Even on the few cases he went out on these days, he was given so much research right off the bat that it was practically a piece of pie.
"They're all busy on other cases," Sam said.
Dean sighed and finally looked at Sam, who wore the same know-it-all expression Dean had seen a million times. "Sam, I told you, I—"
"You don't want to be a hunter for the rest of your life. Dude, I know. You've made that clear. And I get it, you deserve it. But I know you. No matter how hard you try, you'll never stop hunting."
It wasn't just that. Dean was no longer Chuck's puppet, and he wanted to make the most of that. He'd spent most of his life fighting someone else's war, following someone else's orders. He wanted to make his own choices without worrying about the ghosts of the past. He almost had a chance at a normal life with Lisa and Ben all those years ago, but it wasn't the right time then. And maybe not even the right person.
But now, with Cas, maybe it was the right time and the right person. Cas' confession when he saved Dean from Billy had shattered a wall inside Dean. The feelings he had, he'd kept hidden away because he'd never thought angels could love the way humans did. And then, like a dream, they could. And Cas did. Cas loved Dean, the same way Dean loved him. Had loved him for . . . longer than Dean could say. He didn't know when he realized what he felt for Cas was different from what he felt for Sam, but it had been a while. It had been a hidden, private thing he'd hardly allowed himself to acknowledge was real. He'd been too scared of the rejection, the judgment, the vulnerability. Feelings were what got you dead in this business.
And yet, he'd nearly told Cas when they went to Purgatory to find that plant to fight Chuck and almost lost each other—that's how scared he'd been of Cas never knowing what he really meant to him. And when the Empty took Cas, Dean couldn't hold it in any longer.
Cas was Dean's family as much as Sam was, and it was time Dean stopped taking that for granted. When he and Sam and Jack rescued Cas from the Empty, he went all in and told Cas everything. And Cas accepted him, and so did everyone else, and everything was right.
Dean wasn't one for sappiness, but the first night he and Cas spent together, with everything on the table, was like something out of the fairytales his mom used to read to him before she died and he learned about all the things that went bump in the night. It still gave him butterflies to see Cas' things in his room. Dean never knew it could feel so good to let himself be free and to want without guilt or fear. He finally had the thing he never thought he could have. What the two of them had been building together was special. It was like nothing Dean had experienced before. It was real. It was powerful. It was everything. And with all he'd been through, he didn't want to do anything to risk it.
That's why Dean cut back on hunting. He only went out now if he was well and truly bored, if Sam had a particularly delicious hunt for him, if he was short-staffed, or if it was researched so thoroughly there was no chance anything would go wrong. Dean finally had Cas, and he'd lost him too many times to ever do anything to jeopardize their future together.
"Cas will be back in a few days," Dean said. "And we have plans—"
"It's a kid."
That shut him up. Dean had always had a soft spot for kids, what with his history with Sammy and Ben and Claire and even Jack—eventually—along with the hundreds of other kids he'd saved over the years. Sam knew that about him. Damn Sammy and his manipulative tactics.
Dean finally sat up, catching the file that Sam tossed to him. "What's the situation?"
"It's a weird one," Sam said.
Dean snorted. "Everything we do is weird."
"You know what I mean."
Dean didn't have to look at Sam to know he was rolling his eyes. He thumbed through the file as Sam talked, wincing at the too-young faces staring back at him.
"A contact in California reached out to me when she noticed a pattern. Some kids have gone missing in cities across the state—four so far, in Bridgeport, Sonora, Mariposa, and Turlock."
"Commonalities?" Dean asked. None of the kids seemed related, and Sam said multiple cities. So what was linking these kids together?
"All of the kids have ADHD and dyslexia. And they all have only one guardian—their father, who works in some sort of scholarly role—teacher, scientist, librarian."
Dean finally looked at Sam, noting the seriousness on his face. "So, what—troubled kids took off while their dad was too busy in the library? I'm not seeing anything that says this is our kind of gig."
"That's what I thought at first, too. But look."
Sam took the file and flipped to a few photos in the back. Dean prepared himself to see the bodies of children and was relieved when he didn't. But then he leaned in closer, confused by what he saw.
"See?" Sam said. "Strange, three-toed footprints. Piles of stone fragments. That's all that's left at each of the crime scenes."
Dean rubbed his chin, his interest growing. "What else do we know about these kids? You said single dad, right? Where's the mom?"
"I had my contact look into that," Sam said, leafing through the file again. "She sent over copies of their birth certificates. No birth mother listed for all four."
Dean scanned each of the birth certificates, noting the different names and the same blank space where the mother's name should have been. That told him the kids weren't born in a hospital, and that the mother was out of the picture right away. But why wouldn't her name be listed, anyway?
Dean wasn't convinced. Sure, it seemed pretty strange, but that's how families are. Who was he to judge how these fathers dealt with their kids?
"I know it's a little thin," Sam said before Dean could voice his hesitation, "but I have a feeling it could be something. I mean, look at what happened with me and Azazel and the demon kids. He did his thing and came back for the kids ten years later. Maybe something like that's happening here."
Dean frowned. "You think these kids all have the same mom? And she's coming back for them now?"
Sam shrugged. "Could be. I don't know. But they all have the same blonde hair and gray eyes, ADHD, and dyslexia. I think we should check it out."
"Sam, two of these kids are the same age, only a few months apart. There's no way they have the same mom."
"Dude, you know we've seen weirder. Remember the daughter you had with that Amazon?"
Dean flinched, and Sam grimaced. "Sorry, I—"
"It's okay," Dean grunted. He'd mostly forgotten about her and had long since moved on. Still, it wasn't a pleasant memory to revisit.
Sam looked back down at the file, avoiding Dean's eyes. "I know it's not the straightforward case you like these days, but I have a feeling about it. I think this is worth checking out. If they are all connected, then whoever or whatever is doing this will probably go after more kids. They need our help."
Dean sighed. The puzzle pieces were tickling at him, and he was getting pretty bored just sitting here. Maybe it would be a good thing to get out of the bunker for a while.
"All right, fine," Dean said, and Sam grinned. "Where do you wanna start?"
"Turlock is where the last kid went missing. Let's poke around there and see what we can see. I'll grab the gear."
~
Dean zipped up his duffel bag, filled to the brim with spare clothes, snacks, and guns. He glanced at his bedside table and the knives resting atop it. They had plenty of knives in Baby's trunk, but—Dean grabbed the knives and stuffed them in his bag.
Then he sat on the edge of the bed, noting how rumpled his side of it was. Cas' side hadn't been able to escape the mess entirely, but it was still clear he kept things neater than Dean did.
Cas had been gone for nearly a week. Dean missed him almost as much as he had every time Cas had died.
Dean pulled out his phone and dialed. He wasn't surprised when he got Cas' voicemail.
"Hey Cas," Dean said with a sigh. "I know the reception sucks up there so you probably won't get this until you come back down to Earth, but anyway, uh—Sam and I are heading out on a hunt in California. No solid leads yet on what we're looking for, but it seems on the lower end of the risk scale. Some kids have gone missing, and we think there might be more if we don't look into it."
Footsteps sounded down the hall, and Dean's door was wide open. "Anyway, uh," he coughed, standing up from his bed. "We'll be careful. See you when we get back. I lo—" He coughed again, then lowered his voice. "Love you."
Dean hung up before he could second-guess himself. Even after they'd both shared their feelings, Dean found it difficult sometimes to say the words, "I love you." He guessed it had to do with so many years of watching people he loved die—like when Cas died immediately after saying the words Dean had always longed to hear him say. Since then, they usually only said the "L" word when they were alone, at night, in their own little world that Dean never wanted to leave. But Cas was more comfortable with it than Dean, even saying it in front of Sam and Jack, and all their other friends on occasion. Dean was trying to get better at that.
Sam walked into Dean's room just as Dean picked up his bag and put his phone away. "Ready?" Sam asked, holding his own bag. The look on his face told Dean that he'd heard the last bit of his message, but thankfully, he said nothing about it.
Dean hoisted the bag onto his shoulder and shook the thoughts of Cas from his head. "Let's roll."