This is what happens when I have two hours of writer's block XD

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Dean had to admit that he had absolutely no idea what he was doing when it came to preparing dinner for the three of them. He pulled out the ham for the billionth time, checking the temperature feverishly and sticking it back inside when it wasn't quite finished. His father, on the rare days when he had got out of bed after Mary's death, had shown him how to make all of Mary's favorite dishes in memory of her.

"Want another pineapple?" Dean asked, taking the leftover slices of pineapple that he hadn't put with the ham onto Sam's highchair table. Sam let out a happy noise, already munching on a previous pineapple slice with juice running down his chin.

"You just have to eat it the messiest way possible, don't ya, Sammy?" Dean commented with a chuckle, taking the rag in his hands and wiping the juice off his face. Sam grinned, smacking his hands on the table and waving them wildly back and forth, splashing pineapple juice onto every object in close range.

"Sticky! Sticky!" Sam giggled happily while Dean was only able to watch him fondly. He could never get mad at Sam for making a mess, especially when the kid seemed so happy when he did so.

"Yes, it's sticky, but don't you want to be clean when Castiel comes?" Dean bargained, watching Sam pause in his shenanigans with a blank face for all of two seconds before he reached for Dean's rag, taking it from his hands and placing it on the juice, putting the last pineapple slice in his mouth.

"Cean up tme" Sam sang around his mouthful of pineapple, wiping his chair dutifully. Dean rolled his eyes, pulling the table of the highchair off the chair before lifting Sam out of it.

"We can clean up the chair in a minute. Let's get you changed," Dean responded, holding the boy as far from his shirt as possible. He already had to do twice the amount of laundry since Sam turned two; there was no way he was adding to it by ruining his clothes as well.

They barely got Sam into new clothes and washed clean of juice before the doorbell went off. Dean shot up, his eyes wide as he realized he wasn't completely done with dinner yet and hurried Sam into the kitchen, sitting him near the door and pulling out the ham, thanking God when he realized it was done. With that finished, and the mashed potatoes and peas already cooked and cooling, he threw the rag in the dirty clothes before running his hand through his hair in an attempt to smooth it.

When he opened the door, Castiel was waiting patiently, studying the flowers that had continued to grow even after Mary had died. He smiled at Dean, looking away awkwardly before returning his gaze back to the younger man.

"You have beautiful lilies," Castiel complimented, looking back at the red and orange flowers with a small smile. Dean nodded, feeling just as awkward as he took a step to the side, an obvious space so Castiel could get in.

"Thanks, my mom planted them when I was thirteen," Dean commented, looking at the flowers fondly. He was just glad that they returned every year. Castiel nodded, shuffling his feet before finally stepping in the door, looking around the small hallway as he went.

Dean moved in front of him, leading him further into the house until he reached the kitchen, finding Sam waiting patiently for Castiel, bouncing on his toes. At the sight of Castiel, Sam let out a chirp of laughter, hurrying forwards and hugging Castiel's leg, looking up at him with his large, glimmering eyes.

"Hello, Sam," Castiel greeted, patting the small boy on the back gently.

"Hi! We have ham!" Sam responded excitedly, pointing towards the food on the stove. Dean flushed, rubbing the back of his neck as Castiel looked towards it, nursing his bottom lip between his teeth.

"The ham looks amazing," Castiel responded warmly, looking towards Dean with a reassuring look. Dean let out a sigh, the tension fading from his body at Castiel's words. He had no idea why he was feeling so jittery, but he reassured himself that Castiel wasn't critical but rather accepting.

"It'll taste even better," Dean replied with a small, playful smirk, heading over to the drawer and pulling out three forks, "Hey, Sammy, wanna put these on the table for me?"

Sam looked up at Dean, his lip pursing a little bit as he thought before he nodded, finally detaching himself from Castiel's leg and grabbing the forks from Dean, tottering over to the table and reaching up, placing them onto the surface with a little grunt of effort as he stretched to reach.

"His shirt seems a little short," Castiel commented, a slight frown on his face as he watched Sam. Dean looked back, pressing his lips together when he realized that Sam's shirt was showing part of his stomach, sighing and turning back to the cabinets, pulling out a few plates.

"Kid grows like a weed. Dad had just bought him new clothes before..." Dean trailed off, shaking his head and moving over to the table, setting the plates onto it and grabbing the highchair table, heading to the sink and running water over it and attempting to get rid of the stickiness of the leftover pineapple juice.

Castiel was silent for a moment, seemingly lost in thought by the blank look in his eyes before he looked to Dean with his head tipped. "I have clothes that may be a little oversized," Castiel commented, a clear offer in his voice that had Dean stopping and looking at him in confusion.

"Kid clothes? You just have them lying around?" Dean asked, only for his eyes to widen when Castiel nodded, looking back towards Sam, "Do you have a kid? Sorry, I had no idea."

"Don't be. I don't have a kid anymore," Castiel said, much softer than he had spoken earlier. Dean paused, his brows furrowing before he looked down at the floor, swallowing at the sudden lump in his throat.

"What happened?" Dean asked, his own voice as soft, watching Sam as the little one tottered by the table, looking at the two of them with wide eyes. Dean always thought that Sam had known more than he had let on, and the look he was giving them now was only a further reassertion to that belief.

"He was smothered to death by our babysitter eight years ago. He would have been twelve this year," Castiel explained, revealing nothing in his carefully stoic face. However, Dean could see his hands clench behind the trenchcoat that Castiel still had on.

"I'm sorry," Dean replied, not sure what else he could say in response. Castiel looked towards him, sighing before relaxing his stance, though when he tensed it, Dean didn't know.

"There was nothing to be done. I still have the new clothes that I had bought for him, if you wish to have them," Castiel offered again, rubbing at the scruff on his face subconsciously, "They were never worn. The clothes were purchased a few days before."

"I...I don't really feel comfortable taking them," Dean replied, shifting self-consciously and placing his hands behind him on the counter.

"I would prefer if you say yes," Castiel stated, ignoring the look he got from Dean as he held out his hand, letting Sam grab it and pulling him up onto his hip. Sam wrapped his arms around Castiel's neck, smiling over at Dean, "Sam reminds me a lot of...well, I would like to see those clothes be of use rather than sit in boxes in the storage room."

Dean didn't answer at first, clearing his throat before nodding and running his hand through his hair, "Fine, I'll stop by tomorrow and get them after work. Let's eat before the food gets cold," Dean replied, picking up the now lukewarm pans and carrying them to the table.

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Sam yawned, his head bobbing towards his highchair table as he looked sleepily from Dean to Castiel, who had finished their dinner almost an hour ago, awkwardly chatting about things that could never compare to the conversation before dinner.

"I should probably get Sam to bed," Dean commented, standing and unhooking the table from the chair, pulling Sam into his arms and hugging him gently. Castiel nodded, standing and dipping his head and shoulders towards Dean in a minute movement.

"I should return home as well. Goodnight Dean, Sam," Castiel replied, turning and heading towards the front door.

"You live here for hundred years," Sam whined to Castiel, reaching for him despite the yawn that interrupted the movement. Castiel looked back, an affectionate smile appearing on his face as he focused on the nearly asleep Sam.

"I will soon. Promise," Castiel replied, appeasing Sam as he nodded happily, resting his head on Dean's shoulder and falling into a light sleep. Dean looked up to see the retreating back of Castiel and smiled as well, kissing his brother on the side of the head before carrying him to bed.