After Twist And Shout: Dear Cas... (Destiel)

April 24th, 1981.

I dreamt of you last night.

Dean woke up from his slumber to the sound of Abby crying. He rushed into her room to see her sat up, sobbing.
"Shhhh, baby girl it's ok." He patted her back, and she began to quiet down. He glanced around the room until his eyes reached the small clock in the corner, which read 9:32. She must have not cried last night, Dean thought. He bounced her slightly in his arms and walked slowly into the kitchen, preparing breakfast for her and himself.
"Peas or blueberries this morning?" He said aloud, not really expecting a response.
"Blueberries it is." He tickled her belly and she laughed. He then brought her to her high chair and settled her into it, making sure it was as comfortable as it could be. She clapped her hands together, and Dean smiled. He went back to the kitchen, fetching her breakfast, and himself a banana.
"I'm guessing you like blueberries better than peas, huh?" She clapped her hands again. He pulled a chair in front of hers and sat.
"Alright alright here we go, open up sweety." He pushed the small spoon into her mouth softly, all the way until the jar was empty.
He stood, taking the jar and spoon back into the kitchen, setting them into the sink and returning to his seat, starting to peel his banana. She eyed it as he broke pieces off and plopped them into his mouth.
"No, you can't have this. This is big people food." He immediately regretted saying 'big people food', and was amused when he remembered the only other person in the whole house was a seven month old baby.
"So what do you want to do today, pretty girl? Go for a drive, a walk in the park?"
Abby replied with a kind of "wam" noise, and laughed. Dean smiled and threw his peel away, and then gathered the pen and paper he started the day before, setting it in front of him at the table. Abby was given her stuffed rabbit to keep herself occupied, too.

I saw a big, tan house with white shudders, and big green bushes. It was surrounded by gardens and trees, and of course a white fence. The whole island was ours. We made milkshakes in the afternoons, listened to Elvis and The Beatles all day long on the rainy days, and when the sun was shining we would be laying out at the beach. You took so many pictures... I kissed every inch of your face... It was.. Paradise.

Dean stopped when he heard a knock at the door. Immediately he picked up Abby from her chair and went over to the door, looking out the window. It was a young girl with brown hair and green eyes, wearing a pink shirt and jeans. He unlocked and opened the door.
"Hi." He said, looking around behind the girl, then back down at her round face.
"Hi sir. I was wondering if you have seen my dog, he ran away yesterday at lunch. We looked all over and I'm really worried about him." She seemed desperate, and Dean wanted to help, he really did.
"Can I ask your name?"
"I'm Mandy. I live down the street. I'm six and I met Abby at day care with her daddy, but you're not her daddy." She looked around behind Dean.
"Her daddy went on a little trip with mommy, say hi to Mandy, Abby." He waved her arm and Mandy smiled. "So what kind of dog is it? Name?"
"He's a... I think... Um..." She tapped her chin with her finger. "He's small, fluffy, white. And his name is Buddy." She put her hands behind her back, rising to her toes them back down.
"Is your mom around? Are you out here alone?" Dean questioned as he stood in the threshold. The girl frowned.
"My mom is in heaven, but my daddy and brother are right over there." She pointed to the tall man and younger boy across the street at a blue house.
"Oh. Can I speak with your dad?"
"Yeah. Dad! Zac!" She gestured them to Dean. They turned away from the closed door in front of them and headed toward Dean and Mandy.
The younger boy had on a grey sweater, and looked about 18. Brown hair, blue eyes, pale.
Dean swallowed.
Mandy took her father's hand in her own when he approached.
"What can I do for ya?" He spoke. He had creases from his forehead down to the end of his chin that looked like they were carved by hand, in his soft skin. The navy jacket he had on swayed in the wind, along with his short hair.
"Um. Your daughter was asking about, uh. Buddy?" Abby rested her head against his neck.
"He ran away yesterday. He's about, eh, yay big?" The man pulled his hand away from Mandy, showing Dean the approximate size. "White, kinda shy."
Dean nodded. "Ya I don't think I've seen him. Good luck though, have you checked the.. the um." He cleared his throat. "Grave yard down the road?"
The teenage boy, who was kicking at at a rock, looked up immediately at Dean. They exchanged a glance before the father spoke.
"Yes. Actually Zac works down there, so we have eyes. Thank you for your time," his eye brows raised.
"Dean." They shook hands, the cold fingers wrapping around his palm.
"I'll keep an eye out."