Dean grumbled as he stalked towards the front door, the echo of the doorbell still ringing in his ears despite it happening almost an entire minute earlier. Whoever rang it just better be glad they didn't wake Sam up an hour before he was supposed to be getting up. A tired Sam is a nightmare.

When he opened the door, he didn't find anyone standing there, but rather a box sitting on the wood of the worn porch. Glancing back and forth at the still dark landscape in front of him and seeing nothing made him frown, but he crouched and poked at it experimentally, making sure it wouldn't explode before pulling it closer.

It wasn't taped down so he pulled it open, staring at the envelope in the bottom with a blank face. Who the hell would give him something like this this early in the morning?

He opened the envelope and pulled out a picture of...pie? The hell? Dean flipped it back and forth before he pulled out the paper that rested behind it, looking at the neat handwriting scrawled on it.

'Come over for some real pie before work? -Castiel'

Despite how early in the morning in the was, he couldn't stop the smile that was beginning to slowly spread across his face. He was up, hurrying towards the bathroom to get a shower before he got Sam up, all his frustrations forgotten at the thought of seeing Castiel.

That task only took him a few minutes and he was slipping into Sam's room, easing the closet door open so he could get out his daily clothes. No matter how quiet he was, though, Sam stirred before he managed to gather his fresh clothes. 

"De? 'S birthday?" Sam yawned as he spoke in a still sleep-driven voice, rubbing at his eyes with his fist as Dean crossed over.

"Yeah, it's my birthday," Dean replied warmly, ruffling Sam's hair before trying to get it to lay flat, "We're going to Castiel's early, so let's get you dressed, buddy."

"Okay," Sam answered, another yawn leaving him as he tugged at his shirt, not really accomplishing much, "Pie? He has pie?"

Dean tugged Sam's t-shirt off, one eyebrow arched as he looked down at the hopeful eyes of Sam, "How did you know he had pie?" Dean asked, smiling at Sam's fluffy head popped out of the shirt like a jack-in-a-box.

"Made promise for pie!" Sam chirped, reaching up and wrapping his arms around Dean's neck. Dean rolled his eyes but he pulled up, Sam holding on as he hung in the air. He never understood why the kid wanted to get his pants on this way, but Dean wasn't about to spoil his fun.

"What else has he promised you?" Dean asked as he worked Sam's pants on before setting him back down, tipping his head this way then that to get rid of the slight burn it had from holding thirty pounds.

"To be the happiest family!" Sam exclaimed before he smacked his lips, turning and heading towards the door singing about brushing his teeth. Dean watched him go, his smile faltering just a little at the thought. He knew he wasn't the best parent. Hell, he was already worried for when Sam realized it as well, and he couldn't help but wish he had someone like Castiel who could help him along.

Nevertheless, he wouldn't put that much on the poor man. No one needed someone half their age and struggling to raise a kid.

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

"I swear you're a mind reader. There's no way you just happened to make pecan pie," Dean commented as he worked through his second slice of pie, feeling as if he was in heaven. He had decided before that he wasn't going to even think of Castiel in any other way besides friendship, but if he might change his mind if the man continued to cook like this.

"Sam told me it was your favorite," Castiel stated, his barely touched pie resting in front of him, something about getting sick if he ate too early in the morning.

"No idea how he knew that. The kid's three," Dean muttered, always impressed with how smart Sam was. The toddler in question, despite being one of the smartest kids Dean had ever met, was smearing the pie onto his face rather than eating it, making growling noises under his breath as if he was pretending to be a lion or tiger.

Castiel stood, taking his plate to the counter and pulling open a drawer, retrieving a folded piece of paper and returning to the table, "Sam knows a lot about you that most kids would never know about their parents. He made you a birthday card a week ago," Castiel commented, setting the card in front of Dean.

It was colored in what looked like a mix of crayon, marker, and paint, different green, blues, and blacks scattered all over the card. Still, Dean couldn't stop the tears that began to grow as he saw the attempt Sam made to draw the Impala, recognizable even with Sam's terrible drawing skills. He flipped it open, seeing Castiel's handwriting and barely having the forethought to wipe away his tears before they fell on the card.

"Thank you. This is the best birthday I've ever had," Dean managed to get out, struggling to push a normal tone into his voice. He hadn't been lying. While he enjoyed his birthdays with his parents, nothing could ever live up to Sam making him a card.

"De? Why you crying?" Sam asked, concerned. When Dean looked up, he saw the wide eyes filled with worry and he let out a smile, more tears beginning to flow. He didn't deserve Sam, but he was damn grateful that he had a brother like him.

"Daddy! Hug De! He's crying!" Sam exclaimed, slightly panicked as he smacked his hand on the table and motioned to Dean with a sticky finger. Dean wiped away his tears, hiding his face just slightly from Sam.

"I'm okay, Sam. I pro-" 

Arms encircled Dean, stopping him mid-sentence as he was surrounded by Castiel's warmth. He fell silent, his lip beginning to quiver as he moved slowly, almost as if he was scared to ruin the moment, and hugged Castiel back, his fingers clutching onto the back of his hoodie tightly.

"Happy birthday, Dean," Castiel whispered, his voice low and rumbling and soothing. Dean would deny it later, but he couldn't stop himself from leaning his head onto Castiel's shoulder, their chests brushing so the thrum of their rapid heartbeats moved in tandem with one another, the scent of rainwater surrounding him. He closed his eyes, swallowing back the flips in his stomach until they finally parted.