Father's Day (Destiel)

5

Father's Day 2024

Just as with every year before this, Charlie had come home from school with a handmade card, eaten her slice of pecan pie with Dada Dean and Daddy Cas. However, this year, she was having trouble falling asleep.

A particularly lively bout of fidgeting woke Dean up, and he gathered her up in a warm hug, then looked at her concernedly.

"What's up, Charles?"

"I don't know. My head's too noisy."

"Okay, what's it saying?"

"Why does Daddy look younger than you?"

Dean's heart stuttered. He hadn't thought that they would have to broach this subject for a few more years. Then, he had an idea. He stood up, ignoring the twinge in his left knee and the ache in his back, and walked to the bookshelf next to the TV. After a minute of searching, fingers trailing over worn leather spines, he brought down a marbled photo album.

It started in 2009, 15 years ago, when he and Cas had first met. There was the odd photo, when they were caught unawares, standing too close and staring too hard. As the years passed, the pictures became more frequent, until there was one when they were kissing. Dean told the story behind each photo as Charlie looked on, spellbound.

"Daddy looks older than you in these pictures, Dada."

"I know, Chip. He looks just the same now, doesn't he?"

"Yeah. Why isn't Daddy getting older? What if you leave him behind?"

A sharp lump grew in Dean's throat when he thought of the future, of Cas staying young and handsome while he himself picked up wrinkles and grey hairs, until Dean could be his father. A husky groan pulled him out of his thoughts, and he turned to see his beautiful husband hoisting himself off the sofa to join them.

"It was cold without you two, what is wrong?"

Dean blinked away the glaze from his eyes. "Nothing's wrong, Cas. Charlie couldn't sleep, that's all."

"Okay, well it appears that she can now." He gestured to the warm bundle of sleeping child next to Dean on the armchair. "What is really wrong, Dean? I know you."

"I know you do, Cas. Just thinking of the future."

"Does the future scare you, Dean?"

"More than anything else. I don't want to leave you behind."

"That will never happen, Dean. Why would you say that?"

"Just something that Charlie said. But it might happen, I mean I'm gonna die at some point, and before that I'll get old and grouchy. You'll just, I dunno, stay perfect."

"I would do anything to grow old with you, Dean. However I fear that if I were to attempt it, my vessel would revert to my own age."

"But, what's wrong with that?"

"I watched humans evolve from mere amoeba, Dean. I would become dust."

"No!"

"But, I believe that there may be a way around it. My grace has been fading recently, and that may have an aging effect on me, possibly even transferring my soul into a human form when it finally disappears."

"Really? But won't you miss being an angel?"

"I do not believe that I will. I have you two now, and I only ever use my 'mojo' when I do not want to walk all the way upstairs to get a pair of socks."

Dean nodded, finally feeling optimistic about their prospects. He glanced down at his sleeping daughter, then at his best friend and husband. He nodded again, determinedly, and gathered Charlie up into his arms and settled down on the sofa. Soon, all three fell asleep again, and the tradition carried on.