[Destiel] The Dadification of One Castiel Novak

Part 1

It all starts with a simple rejection.

"C'mon, Cas, you should be used to that." Dean teases, though Castiel doesn't laugh. They sit side by side in a booth, Sam and Jack opposite to them. Neither of them laugh either.

"I don't understand." Castiel frowns.

"The joke? It's what the kids today like to call a sick burn." Dean snickers, seemingly proud of himself. Sam rolls his eyes without so much as looking up from the menu. Jack matches Castiel's confused frown, though he doesn't interject.

"No, not your insensitive, and quite frankly unfounded joke; I meant the problem with my identification. Why would they reject it?" Castiel takes the object in question out from the chest pocket of his trench coat and looks over its glossy surface. It's one of his first fake I.D.'s Sam had made for him. It had always worked when he wanted to pose as a forensic pathologist in order to gain access to a body in the morgue. Admittedly, it had been a while since he had needed it, but Castiel couldn't find an expiration date on it anywhere.

Castiel feels Dean lean towards him, head tilted so he could get a better view.

"Well there's your problem right there," Dean flicks the edge of the badge, "your picture."

"My picture?" Castiel repeats.

"Yeah, you gotta be somewhere in your late twenties here. You don't look anything like that anymore–it's no wonder they didn't buy it." Dean leans in further to get an even closer look and mumbles with a teasing kind of fondness, "Look at you. You're like a baby in a trenchcoat."

"No, that's not possible." The angel says firmly, frustrated that the mystery still isn't solved.

"I don't mean an actual baby, Cas." Dean finally settled back in his own seat then picks up his menu. Castiel doesn't know why, Dean always orders the same thing at every diner like this; a cheese burger with extra onions and pie for dessert.

"No, Dean; I meant it's not possible that I look any different than this picture. I was inhabiting Jimmy Novak during the time in which it was taken, and angel vessels don't age." Cas explains.

Sam and Dean share a look, the one where Castiel says something funny without meaning to. Most people can communicate non-verbally with one another, and read unspoken social cues, a skill Castiel has never in all his long years of existence has managed to perfect, but the Winchester Brothers take this form of communication to an entirely new level. And as often as the boys like to 'mess with him' about it, they usually follow it up with a very patient explanation. Castiel appreciates this very much, as does Jack, he's sure. This time though, they hesitate to explain themselves, much to Cas' mounting frustration.

"Let me see." Jack says excitedly, eager to see baby Cas, no doubt. So Castiel hands the plastic identification badge across the table to his son. Jack frowns at it, perplexed, but doesn't offer his opinion on the subject right away.

"Cas, you know you don't look the same as when you first met us, right?" Sam asked with a smile tugging at the side of his mouth.

Castiel tilts his head, "I don't?"

Sam shakes his head, trying to school his smile into something serious. "No, dude."

Cas turns at his waist, mildly alarmed, "Dean?"

"God, you're adorable." Dean snorts and shakes his head, "no."

Castiel settles back in his seat, brow furrowed. "But that isn't possible."

"Did you really think you looked the same?" Sam asks as he folds his menu.

Yes. Castiel thinks, but doesn't answer. A sudden untethered feeling descends on Castiel as he realizes that he has no idea what the vessel he's been walking around in for the past decade even looks like. If he doesn't look like that small man in the laminated square, then what does he look like? Sure, he's taken the time to fix what Dean refers to as his 'bed head' once in a while, but the face looking back at him in the mirror? Castiel hadn't noticed it changing.