Despite only being eighteen, Dean thought he was doing a decent job raising Sam. In the two months that it had been since John had died, they hosted the funeral, and Dean had gained ownership of basically everything their parents had left behind, along with a mountain of debt from funeral costs and other things that had been neglected after Mary's death, but Dean was resolute that they would be fine.

In fact, today was a Saturday, the only day he ever got off, and Sam was running excitedly through the house, having learned to run without falling every few steps and taking advantage of every chance he had to just let loose. Dean could see him being one of those morning runners, and he shivered at the thought of the kid getting up that early. 

The current trainee for Olympic running crashed through the doorway and into Dean's leg, suddenly halting from his run and clinging to him, tugging the hem of his shirt with excitement.

"Angel! Angel!" Sam exclaimed, pointing towards the window like there would be a winged man standing right there. Dean honestly didn't know where he had even learned about angels or religion. Dean wasn't much for that kind of thing himself.

"Did you see an angel?" Dean comment, playing along with Sam as he turned back to flip the grilled cheese he was making Sam for lunch. Sam tugged on his shirt in affirmation, letting out a squeak of excitement.

"In house over there!" Sam exclaimed, a little bit of an impatient tone in his voice at Dean not listening to him attentively enough. Dean put the grilled cheese on a plate, setting it on the counter and turning off the stove before finally looking at Sam and smiling.

"Okay, show me where," Dean stated, letting Sam pull him along by his shirt towards the living room. Sam opened the curtain, the blinds already pulled up to allow for sunlight, or something like that. He never really understood the purpose, but his mother always did it so he didn't see the harm.

The vacant house on their right side didn't seem so vacant anymore, a mover's truck sitting in the driveway with boxes sitting on the porch. A black-haired man, maybe in his thirties, carried one of the boxes in his arms and into the house, a look of concentration on his face as he went.

"Angel!" Sam squeaked, pointing to where the man had just gone in and looked at Dean with a bright smile.

"I don't think he's an angel, buddy," Dean said, though he had a warm tone in his voice as he ruffled the two-year old's hair, chuckling as Sam pouted, pointing to the man again.

"Angel," Sam said stubbornly, looking back out the window and grabbing the sill, pulling himself a bit higher so he could see the man more clearly.

"Okay, okay, I won't fight you. Maybe later, we can go say hello if you want," Dean offered, unable to stop the smile on his face when Sam looked at him with excited eyes, nodding happily, "First, you have to eat lunch. C'mon, Sammy."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A knock on the door brought Dean out of his thoughts, looking over towards the front door. He finally had managed to put Sam down for a nap, but it was only a moment before he heard the tiny pitter patter of Sam's feet coming down the hallway. Of course, that kid would wake up. Even the simplest of noises has him curious.

"Door?" Sam chirped at Dean, his cheeks rosy with excitement. Dean nodded, reaching out his hand and letting Sam take it.

Dean let Sam pull him towards the door. He's been doing that a lot lately. Dean wouldn't be surprised if the kid ended up being twenty feet tall and tougher than a bag of nails. 

Sam reached for the door, tugging on the handle with a small laugh of excitement. Dean helped him open it, only to lunge for Sam when he tried to run out the door and straight into their new neighbor.

"Sorry, he's excited to have someone new living next door," Dean stated, pulling Sam back to him despite the two-year-old letting out noises of discontentment, glaring up at Dean with his pouty toddler look. Dean returned his gaze to the man, a look of shock crossing over his face when he finally got a good look at him.

He was much more attractive than Dean had thought him to be, even with his age. He had youthful eyes, bright blue and much more emotional than the rest of his face. While he didn't smile, there was a twinkle in his eyes that Dean took as amusement.

"I see. My name is Castiel, and you are?" Castiel spoke politely, a little too formal if you asked Dean, but he only had to take one glance at Sam to know the kid was starstruck.

"I'm Dean, and this is my brother, Sam," Dean replied, holding out his hand in greeting. Castiel took it, giving it a firm shake before looking at Sam and cocking his head to the side. Sam stuck his hand out too, and Castiel was much more gently as he took the two-year-old's hand.

"Angel!" Sam squeaked out, and Dean winced, looking at Castiel rather sheepishly.

"Sorry, he's got this idea that you're an angel and-" Dean began to explain, only to stop suddenly when Castiel's lips twitched, not quite a smile, but the beginning of one. Castiel crouched in front of Sam, the two-year-old returning his gaze with wide eyes.

"I am afraid I am not an angel," Castiel explained to Sam, his expression remaining even despite the crestfallen look that Sam gave him.

"Friend?" Sam asked hopefully, and Dean didn't have the heart to say anything. Castiel must have had the same problem because he nodded, jumping a little in surprise when Sam wrestled out of Dean's grip and hugged Castiel, giggling.

"Friend!" Sam squeaked before looking up at Dean, smiling widely, "He stay for dinner?"

"Castiel is probably busy, Sam," Dean offered, looking at Castiel with an apologetic look. Castiel nodded his head, slowly detaching himself from Sam's grip and looking between the two of them.

"I'm free Saturday if that's okay," Castiel responded, and even if Dean wanted to decline the offer, which he didn't, Sam hadn't given him a choice. The toddler cheered in delight, hugging Castiel's leg, and Dean could only give him an awkward smile and nod in response.