Father's Day (Destiel)

7

Father's Day 2066

"Hey you two." Charlie said, as she had every year for the past thirty two years. She had made a point to go home for Father's Day, no matter what. She had left studying, friends, boyfriends, girlfriends, parties, and then coffee dates, engagement parties and baby showers behind for pie and pink milk with her fathers.

Today though, was different. There was no pie, she had brought flowers instead, and there was no faded red sofa to snuggle up on. And for the first time, there was no reply to her greeting. No gravelly voices calling out silly nicknames that had persevered over decades, even as she reached, and then passed middle age.

She carried on regardless, setting down a bunch of lavender, apple blossom, daisies and cinnamon sticks. "I've missed you guys, especially this year. D'you know I turned fifty the other day? I'm old! Dorothy found my first grey hair yesterday when we were watching Dr. Sexy as well. Yeah, Dean. You'll be pleased to know that's still on..."

She sat down with difficulty, drawing her aching knees up to her chest. "Here, I've got your card. I know you can't see it but, I painted an old photo I found; it's of you Dean, and Uncle Sammy and you Cas. It was in your memory box, Dean."

"It was weird clearing out the bunker, I couldn't bring myself to throw away any of your junk, even that old sofa. I re-upholstered it and now I sit on it in the evenings with Dorothy. It's a shame that you guys can't come to the wedding; she loved you two almost as much as I do. You're the reason we're getting married this year anyway, Dean. If you hadn't told her to get her ass in gear, we'd still be just fiancés. We've been engaged for almost twenty years!"

"I'm still looking after the garden, Cas. There were more bees this year than I've ever seen, and I've got some lavender on my windowsill which they love. Dorothy isn't exactly happy about bees in the bedroom though, bit of a turn-off."

She laughed and trailed her fingertips along the cool, smooth stone. It sparkled slightly in the sunlight, and she saw her face reflected in it; Castiel's pale complexion, Dean's sandy hair, and her odd eyes. One blue, exactly like Cas', and one green, like Dean's. It was like she carried them both with her.

"I wish I could give you one last hug; I never really got a chance to say goodbye properly. And you both went at the same time, within minutes of each other, the nurse said. I reckon you both knew what was going to happen, and didn't want to live without each other. I know how much you love each other. I hope that you are still together in heaven, watching Dr. Sexy reruns and eating pecan pie, all cuddled up like kittens."

She pulled out her phone and flicked through the photos until she came to one that had been transferred from phone to phone throughout the years. She turned the screen towards the names on the headstone in front of her.

"I took this one the day before I left for university. You two had fallen asleep on that old sofa, within minutes you were trying to get closer to one another, it was kinda sweet. It was my screensaver for two years; I'd look at it every night before I went to sleep."

"This is the first year that I've spent Father's Day without you, but you're still part of my life. I live in the bunker, I look after your beehives, and I drive Baby. She'll be one hundred years old next year, and she's still as good as new. I promised you that, Dean."

"And the best news is that Dorothy and I adopted a kid of our own. Mary; she's sixteen and the most beautiful girl in the county. She looks just like a photo I found of your mum, Dean. I'm carrying on the Winchester-Novak line, she knows exactly how awesome you guys are-were. I don't know. I don't think I can let you go. I love you two. I miss you."

Hot tears fell again, sparkling off her hands and phone, burning with grief and love, hopeless and hopeful. With a sigh, Charlie hoisted herself up, knees clicking. She stretched her back out and kissed her fingertips, then pressed them to the polished marble.

"Well," she sniffed, trying to pull herself together, "Dorothy will be cooking a pecan pie right now, and mixing up pink milk for when Mary gets home. We are going to celebrate Father's Day as Grandfather's Day in honour of you guys. I'll always remember you. I love you."

With a final loving look back, Charlotte Grace Winchester-Novak walked to her beloved Impala, shutting the door gently and smiling at the familiar squeak of the spring, then the roar of the ancient engine, and drove home to her beautiful family with AC DC blaring through the speakers.