Somewhere deep down inside, Dean always knew he would never truly be happy without his family. He wouldn't be happy without his whole family. Not just Sam. Not even just Sam and Cas. They may have stuck with him through the best and worst of times, and he appreciated them more than words can say, but it wasn't enough.

His mother had been the next logical step, given that she'd never said a rude thing to him, and the few memories he still has of her were usually pleasant. When Amara brought her back, it filled the void for a little while, but it still wasn't everything he wanted.

But it hadn't occurred to him when he'd been given the chance to make a wish that what he wished for didn't really matter. The Pearl was going to bring back what he desired most, and, though he would never admit it, what he desired most wasn't saving the world. It wasn't saving his sanity. It was having his family back.

He should have known the second he saw the shadow of a man take down his brother. He definitely should have known when it took him down. But it was so far out of the realm of possibility to him, he didn't believe it until he saw his face.

The pearl didn't knock Michael out of his head.

It brought back his dad.

He's not entirely sure how to feel at first. Part of that is probably due to the fact that his own father was pointing a shotgun at him, but not entirely. He's dreamed of the moment for over a decade, but he never thought it would actually happen, and definitely not like this. Not in the middle of a goddamn apocalypse, and certainly not with an archangel screaming in his head.

And 2003? Things were way different in 2003. His father doesn't remember anything. He doesn't remember finding and losing Azazel. He doesn't remember selling his soul. He doesn't remember dying. And that's awesome, sure, but... those were important moments in their lives, and, as far as John is concerned, they just never happened.

They have to explain 16 years worth of world-ending hunts to him, so, needless to say, it takes a while. John is thrilled to find out that they killed Yellow Eyes. He's amazed to hear that his father hadn't been the deadbeat he'd always thought he was. He's... a little confused on other things. Leviathan, for one? Not very easy to explain, though it does remind them how long the Roman family empire has been around, given that John recognized Dick's name.

But, in a 16-year recap, some things get left out. They explain the apocalypse of 2010, but they leave out the trickster's TV Land. They explain Raphael's desire to rule Heaven, but leave out Castiel's bloodthirsty rampage. They explain the Mark of Cain, but leave out Dean murdering an innocent man just because he was part of the Stein family. They explain the Darkness, but leave out the fact that Sam took a dive into Hell for tea with the devil.

Some of it is intentional — there's no reason to waste time explaining all their downfalls when they could be celebrating. Some of it is accidental — not everything can fit in the story, and they sometimes forget how much he doesn't know.

For instance, when talking about Castiel, Dean calls him an angel, a friend, and loyal warrior. That one's on purpose. Things are going so well, he can't bear to risk ruining it by bringing up their relationship.

But then there's accidents like overlooking Mary's return, which leads to a heartwarming reunion that just tells Dean that everything is going to be okay. Their marriage was never perfect, but right now, it looks like that might change. Death tends to do that. It tore their family apart and rebuilt it stronger than ever.

So, needless to say, Dean is pissed when Sam isn't as happy as he is. They've barely had their father home for an hour when Sam starts talking about cosmic consequences. Now, Dean's no stranger to those. It's practically his life story. But this is all he wanted. His whole family is back together. He just wants to enjoy it.

And he does.

Mary makes her favorite casserole for dinner. Sam and Dean have to go on a few quick errands to get all the ingredients — homemade dinners aren't quite extinct in their house, but they aren't frequent enough for them to have every ingredient for every meal. It's weird, walking around town and talking to all the cashiers they know on a first-name basis, and none of them have any idea that their lives just changed completely. Sam and Mary work together to make it, which leaves Dean alone with his father for the first time since he was 27.

It's a little weird at first, he won't lie. It's just awkward small talk, because what else is there to talk about? Archangels in his head? Childhood trauma? Not exactly grade-A choices. But they do talk hunts a little bit. It's one thing that really kept them together growing up, and that's one thing that hasn't changed.

"You know," John says eventually, "I never meant for this."

"What do you mean?"

Dean can feel the change in his tone, and he knows they're not just joking around anymore. This is something serious. Dean's just not entirely sure what. He never meant to get dragged here? So what? This is the best thing that's ever happened to any of them, and it might be the first consequence-free plus side they've ever had.

"This was my fight, not yours," John says. "It was supposed to start and end with Yellow Eyes. I never wanted to take your whole life from you."

Dean thinks back at everything that's happened since they killed Azazel. Sure, they've started and averted more apocalypses than he can count, but there have been a lot of plus sides. Charlie, Kevin, Jody... He never would have made any of these friends if he stopped hunting. Even if most of those friends are dead, they made a lot of good memories before they passed.

And, of course, there's Cas. A few years ago, sure, he would have made the friends list, but now... Cas is everything to him. Dean can barely remember a time when he didn't trust his angel with everything. He can't imagine life without him. A world where he works 40-hour weeks and drinks power shakes or where he hustles pools and has meaningless flings with hot chicks has nothing on nights by Cas's side. He wouldn't trade it for the world.

But he can't tell his father that. Not yet. Not until they've had at least one normal family dinner. He's not risking their relationship just yet.

So all Dean says is, "Don't worry about it, Dad. It's fine."

"No, it's not," John says. "You're a grown man, Dean, and you're still fighting the fight I pushed you into when you could barely count to 10. I'm so proud of everything you've done, but I'm also so, so sorry you had to do it."

And that's it.

That's what he's been waiting for his whole life.

Validation.

This isn't the first time his father's said he's proud of him, but usually it was over something meaningless like shooting targets or knocking out bad guys. He never in his wildest dreams imagined his father would be proud of the man he'd become. He's made too many mistakes, fucked up too many times. If he wasn't proud of himself, there was no way his father would be.

But he was wrong.

And he loves that.

And then it's dinner time. They're all gathered around the table, parents on one side and kids on the other. The last time this happened, Sam was in a high chair and Mary was trying to force vegetables down Dean's throat. A lot has changed since everyone sitting at this table died on at least one occasion.

John lets out a content noise on his first bite of the casserole, earning a chuckle from the rest of the family.

"I can't remember the last time I had a home cooked meal," John mumbles through a mouth full of food.

"Don't get used to it," Sam says with a light-hearted smile. "Things get a little busier nowadays than they did fighting werewolves out of a car."

John swallows his food before saying, "I can only imagine."

"I always forget you guys never hunted from home," Mary remarks. "You know, no home base."

"I always forget you had a home to hunt from," Dean says. He couldn't have imagined that growing up. That alone would have made his childhood a million times better.

"I still can't believe you're a hunter," John says. "That you've always been a hunter."

"And I can't believe you took it up after I tried to quit," Mary says. "It's been three years and I still can't believe it."

"I take it I won't be getting used to this any time soon, then, huh?" John says.

As a kid, Dean was grossed out whenever his parents made googly eyes at each other. What kid isn't? But, after everything they've been through to get to this point, he can't complain for a second when he sees his father take Mary's hand, a loving smile on his face.

He really has his family back, huh?

Eventually, they stop with the heart eyes, though, and it's business as usual — or as close as they can get when their whole world is turned upside down.

"So, what happens now?" John asks. "Do you guys still hunt, like, wendigos? Or is that a little below your paygrade now?"

"Depends on the day," Sam says. "I think we've got some bigger things to worry about right now." He glances at Dean as he says it, almost subconsciously, and it's obvious that he's thinking of Michael.

Dean quickly jumps in with, "But we can definitely take a normal hunt if you want. You know, get back in the swing of things. Family hunt-cation."

John chuckles. "Thanks, Dean, but Sam's right. We've got to do something about that... archangel?" He shakes his head, probably to himself. "I don't even know. I might have to sit this one out 'til this whole 'angels' thing sinks in."

"Could be worse," Sam says. "At least you don't have to worry about the devil anymore."

"Thank god for that," John says. "Can I say that? Is that weird? 'Cause you guys know God."

"He goes by Chuck," Sam says. "Believe it or not, that makes it a lot easier."

"I'll have to take your word for it." John cracks a smile. "I can't believe you're on a first-name basis with God Himself."

"Trust me, neither can we," Dean says.

Things are going so well right now.

Of course Castiel takes that moment to come home.

Everyone glances at the war room when the door opens. Sam, Dean, and Mary all know what to expect, of course — Cas comes in and out all the time, and Jack's bound to come back eventually. This is the most normal thing that's happened all day to them. John, on the other hand, is immediately on edge, instinctively reaching for a gun that won't do any good.

"I've been looking all day for something to stop Michael," Castiel says, speaking loudly enough that they can hear him in the other room. "I've got nothing so far, but —"

When Castiel gets to the doorway, he freezes. Dean immediately looks at his father, almost expecting him to go after the guy, but, fortunately, John must realize that if Castiel can just walk in and start talking, he must belong here. It doesn't wipe the puzzled look from his face, but it is enough for him to take his hand off his gun.

"John," Castiel says quietly, staring at the man in awe.

Now John just looks more confused. "Do I know you?"

"No."

And now, John looks even more confused.

"I felt some type of power surge," Castiel says, shifting his gaze to the younger of the Winchesters. "I should have known it would be you."

"It always is," Mary says.

"Who are you?" John asks.

"Castiel."

"Oh, you're the angel they were telling me about." John gives him a friendly smile. "It's nice to meet you."

"Where are you from?" Castiel asks, ignoring his attempts at conversation. He eyes the man for a moment, then amends himself. "Or when, rather?"

Dean shoots him a silent glare, hoping he'll take the hint and shut up. This was not part of his dream reunion. Sure, his father was bound to meet Cas eventually, but not in the middle of their first family dinner, and certainly not as cold as he's being right now.

"2003," John says, a little taken aback by his attitude.

Castiel eyes him skeptically.

"Cas, it's okay," Sam assures him. "He's our dad."

"I know that, Sam," he says. "I'm not an idiot."

John chuckles. "You're very to-the-point, aren't you?"

"He's supposed to be dead," Castiel says, ignoring him. "Or, rather, he's supposed to be in 2003 and be dead by now. What did you do?"

That's about all Dean can take. He's going to have his happy family dinner, whether Cas likes it or not.

"Hey, Cas, a word?"

He doesn't wait for an answer, immediately getting up and practically shoving the angel into the war room. He can see the puzzled look on Castiel's face, but it doesn't bother him quite as much as the amused looks on his mother's and brother's faces.

To them, he just hisses, "Not a word," before dragging Castiel through the war room and into the hall, far enough away that he doesn't have to risk anyone overhearing them.

"Dean, what is going on?" Castiel demands.

"Cas, calm down," Dean says. "Look, this whole thing was an accident. We were trying to get Michael out of my head with some weird magic pearl, and it accidentally brought my dad back instead."

"And you didn't think to call me?"

Dean scoffs. "Cas, my dad is back. I've been waiting for this for years. Can't you just let me enjoy it for a night before you come busting in and making shit weird?"

Castiel crosses his arms. "Do you want me to leave? You have your family dinner and I'll go save your sanity and the world on my own?"

Dean sighs. "Oh, come on, Cas, don't be like that."

"Don't be like what, Dean?" Castiel snaps. "You just pulled your dad through time and you didn't think to call me. I come home, you shove me away. I think it's pretty clear you want me to leave."

"Cas." Dean cups the angel's face in his hand. That's always enough to calm him down, at least enough to listen. "This is just a really big moment for me, okay? My dad is back, and we have so much to catch up on."

"Without me," Castiel says quietly.

"No, no, you can stay," Dean says quickly. "I just don't want you... you know, pestering him. Asking a bunch of questions. But you can stay." Dean pressed a brief kiss to his lips. "I want you to stay."

Castiel eyes him for a moment, then sighs. "What can I say to him that won't end with you dragging me out of the room again?"

"You can answer questions," Dean says. "Preferably in more than one word, though. I think my dad thinks you hate him right now."

"Oh."

"Oh, and..." God, Cas isn't going like this. "Maybe don't mention our relationship?"

Cas scoffs, taking a step away and hitting Dean's hand away from his face. "Seriously?"

Look, he was right; Cas didn't like that.

"Cas, come on, listen to me," Dean pleads.

"You took a hunter to the ground for making a remark about us," Castiel reminds him. "You almost got kicked out of Asa Fox's funeral for it. You have never cared what anyone thought —"

"Because 'anyone' was never my dad," Dean says. "Cas, please. I'm going to tell him. I am, I promise. But I don't want to risk ruining anything with him just yet, you know? I don't know what he's going to say. I'm pretty sure our relationship was illegal in, like, 99% of the states at the time."

Castiel cocks his head to the side, squinting at him. "It was legal in half a state?"

Dean resists the urge to roll his eyes. His cluelessness is adorable, but not in the middle of a serious conversation.

"Just, please," Dean pleads. "Let me bring this up on my own time, in my own way."

Castiel hesitates before giving an understanding nod. "Okay."

"Oh, and, try to stay on his good side?" Dean adds. "Even if he doesn't care that you're a guy or that you're not human, he's still gotta like you as a person."

"I'll try," Castiel says, "but you know I'm not good at conversations."

"Don't sweat it," Dean says. "Just be yourself. I think he'll learn to like you."

Castiel gives him a small smile. "If it means this much to you, then I hope so."

Dean presses a brief kiss to his lips. "Come on. Let's go introduce you to my dad, for real this time."

They head back to the library, where the rest of the Winchesters are laughing over some undoubtedly stupid joke — which is, admittedly, the best kind. They all look over as the two walk into the room, and Dean smiles, partially so they know everything's okay and partially just because he loves his family.

"You guys okay?" Sam asks, mostly directing the question towards Dean.

"Yeah, don't worry about it," Dean says. "Just filling him in on everything he's missed."

Dean sits back down in his seat, and it's time to eat his casserole. Unfortunately, he hadn't quite considered that, by taking a few minutes to debrief his boyfriend, he was letting his food get cold, and it's not quite as good when it's cold. Food is food, though, and he's definitely not going to waste it.

"Cas, c'mon, come sit," Mary says, looking over at the angel still standing awkwardly in the doorway. "There are plenty of chairs in the room."

Castiel does as he's told, heading to the other library table to grab a chair, but then he pauses. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why — if he sits on the end he's on, he'll be at the head on the table between Dean and John. To not sit with John, he'd have to walk to the other side on the table with his chair, which would be weird, to say the least.

"A'ight, come on, scooch," Dean says, trying to shove his brother's chair over.

Sam slides over, which allows Dean to move, too, and clear a spot next to Castiel. He doesn't quite fit, but it's close enough that he doesn't look weird, just awkwardly next to John.

"You look a lot more human than I'd expected," John remarks.

"Oh, this..." Castiel glances down at himself. "This is just a vessel. His name was Jimmy."

John chuckles. "Yeah, Sam and Dean told me that much — not that his name was Jimmy, though. That is very good to know."

Castiel just looks confused.

"I mean you act more human than I'd thought," John says. "I figured there'd be lots of flying and telekinesis."

"No, I can't do that anymore," Castiel says.

John raises an eyebrow. "'Anymore'? What happened?"

"I've lost a lot of grace."

John looks at him expectantly until it becomes clear that that's all he's going to say on the matter, and the only answer he can think to give to that is, "Huh."

And silence.

Welp, there goes his hope for social Cas.

But, overall, it's fine. Cas doesn't talk much during dinner, but it gives the rest of the family time to catch up and relive old memories. Dean even catches Cas chuckling a few times, which is a rare occurrence. It's a fun, light-hearted meal, something Dean hasn't experienced in a long time.

While everyone gets dinner cleaned up, Dean sneaks off with Castiel again, back in the halls of the bunker to talk without being interrupted.

"Was that okay?" Castiel asks.

"Cas." Dean cups his face in his hands just long enough to give him a kiss. "That was perfect."

He looks surprised by that. "Really?"

Dean nods. "I told you, don't overthink it. Just be yourself. That was enough to win me and Sam over, remember?"

"Yes, but I also played a crucial role in trying to stop the apocalypse," Castiel says. "You had to keep me around."

"And now you play a crucial role in making me happy," Dean says. "So we still have to keep you around. My dad's already trying to get to know you. It couldn't have gone any better."

"Really?"

Dean chuckles. "You sound like you expect him to hate you or something."

"Because you sounded like you did," Castiel says. "And that's why you can't tell him about us."

"It's a little more complicated than that, Cas," Dean says. "Just, trust me. You're absolutely perfect."

Castiel smiles at that. "Does that mean you're going to tell him?"

"Well..."

Dean's saved from answering by John turning the corner, looking more lost than Dean's ever seen him — which, given they spent Dean's whole childhood in a car, is saying a lot.

"Dad, you okay?" Dean asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine," John assures him. "Just... very lost. This place is huge, and all the hallways look the same."

Dean chuckles. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it."

"It looks like I have a lot to get used to," he says.

"Well, you're not wrong there," Dean agrees.

"Now, your mom said there's a bathroom somewhere around here..."

"Down there." Dean points down the hall. "Hang a left and it's the third door."

"Thanks."

Dean watches him go in silence, knowing he can't pick up his conversation until he's out of earshot. He'd obviously wondered what his dad would say if he found out that Dean was dating a male angel for a while now, but that mostly in moments of insecurity, not in daydreams. He hadn't quite thought of this when his heart decided it desired a family reunion more than anything, and he's not entirely sure what to do about it.

Bedtime comes soon enough. They'd all suffered through numerous sleepless nights lately, John because he was on the road and the rest of them because they had work to do. Dean wants to stay up again, making up for time lost today but spending the night searching for answers he'd been neglecting for hours before. Unfortunately, when everyone else decides they should head to bed early and get a fresh start tomorrow, Castiel refuses to let Dean do any different.

So they head to Dean's room, and Dean changes into his comfy pajamas and hits the sack, Castiel with his arms around him — though Dean is totally not the little spoon, thank you very much.

And, for the first time in a long time, Dean falls asleep with a smile on his face.

And it's peaceful.

And wonderful.

And refreshing.

And —

"I will tear your head apart piece by piece if that's what it takes to get out of here."

Deb bolts upright in bed, gasping for breath. He can feel the bed dip and shift and Castiel moves, but he can't hear anything the angel says, too busy trying to block out the noise in his head by covering his ears. Needless to say, it doesn't help, but he keeps clutching his head instinctively until Castiel forcefully moves one of his hands away.

"Dean." Castiel grips Dean's hand tightly in his own. "Dean, what is going on?"

"I can't," Dean breathes. "I can't —"

"Dean!" Castiel squeezes his hand, trying to get his attention. "Dean, talk to me. What's happening?"

"He's going to break through the door," Dean says, struggling to hear his own voice over that of the archangel in his head. "He's too loud and he's too strong and I can't keep him trapped in there."

Castiel drops his hand, instead wrapping his arms around Dean's torso and pulling him closer. "You're okay. You can hold him in there. You've already done it so long —"

"And I can't do it anymore," Dean says, his voice breaking. "I'm sorry, but I can't."

"Shh," Castiel murmurs. "You're being really loud. Take a deep breath, wake yourself up. Maybe you're just tired."

Dean closes his eyes and breathes in deeply. All he can smell is Cas. You'd think an angel wouldn't have a scent, but he does. It's just impossible to describe. He tries to focus on that, not the archangel screaming bloody murder in his head. This better work, because he's getting dangerously close to putting himself in the ma'lak box, regardless of what Sam and Cas say.

He's not sure what it is that really distracts him. It could be Cas, it could be Michael screaming, and it could be fear of an eternity inside a box. Whatever it is, it takes him out of reality until he feels Castiel's arms quickly drop away from him. Dean's eyes snap open, afraid to see whatever could have scared Cas away...

And it's just his dad, standing in the doorway and looking both confused and worried.

"Dad?" Dean rubs his eyes to make sure he's seeing this right. He hadn't forgotten they'd accidentally brought him back, but he's a little too tired to think through it clearly. "What're you doing?"

"I got up for a cup of water and I heard you screaming," John says. "I wanted to make sure you were okay, but..." He glances at Castiel. "Well, it looks like I was beat to it."

Oh, shit.

"Oh, Cas was just —" Dean cuts his excuse off with a wince as Michael manages to ram himself into the metal door in his head harder louder than he's ever done so far.

"Dean?" John says quickly. When he doesn't get a response, he turns his attention to Castiel to ask, "What's happening?"

"Michael is trying to break out," Castiel explains, because Dean's head is pounding and he's not sure he could form a coherent sentence if he tried.

"Is he going to be able to?" John asks.

"I don't know," Castiel says. "Dean seemed to think —"

"I'm good," Dean interrupts, mostly because he doesn't want anyone to worry about him. Not being a bother tends to be his motivation for a lot of things.

"Are you sure?" Castiel says skeptically.

"Yeah, I just need..." Dean pushes himself out of bed with a soft groan. "I just need some Advil and some coffee and I'll be all set."

"Coffee?" John repeats. "Dean, it's barely three AM."

"I know," Dean says. "So it's a little early for a beer."

Dean's not sure what would be weirder, bringing Cas with him and his father or leaving him in his room while he and his dad go get a drink. Cas makes the choice for him, apparently very concerned for his well-being because he keeps an arm around Dean's waist to lead him to the kitchen as if he doesn't trust Dean to make it there himself. Now that he's up and walking, he feels a little more awake, and he's pretty sure Michael isn't actually going to escape anymore. He just doesn't want to fall back asleep and risk it.

But when they get to the kitchen, Dean for a cup of coffee and John for a glass of water, they see that someone already beat them to it.

Dean sighs, exasperated. "Jack, why are you making coffee at three in the morning?"

Jack, who had apparently been too distracted by his coffee to even notice that he wasn't alone, whips around when he hears Dean's voice. "Why are you — wait, who're you?" He looks at John, confused.

"My dad," Dean says. "Long story, I'll tell you in the morning, now go to bed."

"But —"

"Jack, go to bed."

John gapes at him. "This is Lucifer's kid?"

"I don't understand why that's why everyone refers to me as," Jack says. "I barely knew him."

"But aren't you, like, two?" John asks.

"Not for another three months and eight days," Jack replies.

"He came out of the womb like that," Dean explains. "Don't even question it."

John raises an eyebrow, but, following Dean's instruction, doesn't ask about it.

"Cas, can you take him to bed?" Dean asks, the last word interrupted by a yawn.

"Are you going to be okay if I do?" Castiel asks.

"I'll be fine."

Castiel eyes him skeptically, but, when Dean doesn't back down, he goes along with it, leading Jack out of the room without another word.

Dean heads straight to the medicine cabinet, dumping a small pile of Advil in his hand. He cups some water from the sink in the other hand, downing the pills easily. He's had enough bruises and hangovers in his life that taking Advil is basically second nature to him.

"You know," John remarks, "I never pictured you as a parent type, but you do it surprisingly well."

Dean pours himself a cup of Jack's coffee. "What d'you mean?"

"The way you sent Jack to bed," John says. "That was a very 'dad' thing to do."

Dean chuckles. "Oh, god no, I'm no father. Cas and Sam, maybe, but not me. I just know he's gonna be tired if he pulls another all-nighter." He may not need much sleep, but when he doesn't get any, it shows.

"Where's he been all day, anyway?"

Dean takes a sip of coffee before answering. "I don't know. Sometimes he just kinda leaves. Kinda like Cas."

"Right." John nods slowly, and Dean gets the feeling there's something he's not saying. Maybe it's just because he's letting the son of Satan out of his sight. That's gotta be weird, not knowing Jack like they do.

"Don't worry about it, though," Dean says. "He's a good kid. He's not gonna do anything bad."

"That's what everyone says about their kids," John says.

"But there's really not an evil bone in his body," Dean insists.

"I'm not saying I don't believe you," John says. "I'm just saying you're really sounding like a dad."

Dean shakes his head, amused. "Alright, if you're that insistent that you want grandkids..."

"A grandchild that looks about the same age my actual kids were this morning," John surmises. "I don't even know what to say."

Dean chuckles and takes another sip of coffee. John fills up a cup with tap water and takes a few sips of that, accepting the silence as easily as Dean does. It's not really silence for him, of course, with Michael screaming nonstop, but it's easier to ignore when he's awake. There's enough going on in his head to distract him from it.

John eventually breaks the silence with, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah, of course." Like he could possibly say no to his father. The guy would have his head.

"Why does Castiel hate me?"

"What?" This is the opposite of what Dean was worried about. He thought John would hate Castiel, not fear the opposite.

"I mean, I know I haven't been the best father —"

"Dad, Cas doesn't hate you," Dean says.

"He sounds like he does," John says.

"He's a weird dude," Dean says. "He's only been on earth for, like, ten years. He just doesn't know how to act around people."

"He seems to know how to act around you."

Dean freezes mid-sip. Did he already figure it out? Did he already realize that Dean and Cas are together? If he did, he doesn't seem upset by it, but...

"I thought I got to your room fast, but he'd already had you calmed down by the time I got there," John says. "That definitely makes me think he understands people, at least a little bit."

"Yeah, about that..." Maybe he should just go for it. His dad literally walked in on Dean in Cas's arms and didn't think anything of it. That's promising, right? And his dad's probably gonna be mad if Dean keeps this from him much longer.

"What about that?" John prompts. "Have you just been spoon-feeding him bad stories about me over the last ten years?"

Dean cracks a small smile at that, mostly because he thinks that's the response his father is going for. It definitely sounded like a joke. Probably.

John must know his heart's not in it, though, because his tone is more serious when he asks, "What is it?"

"It's just... Cas doesn't know people, but he knows me, because..."

John cocks his head to the side, doubtlessly confused by how much Dean is struggling to get this once sentence out.

"Casiskindamyboyfriend," Dean murmurs before putting his mug to his lips, more to hide his face than to have a sip of coffee.

John's eyes widen in surprise, and Dean immediately averts his gaze. He regrets saying it already.

It takes a few moments for John to wrap his head around that. When he does, he asks, "As in boy-space-friend?"

Dean just shakes his head.

"Hmm," John hums. "I don't know what surprises me more: that you finally settled down with one person, that that person is a guy, or that that person isn't human."

Dean's not sure what to say to that. He's not even sure what his father is saying with that. Is he upset? Is he going to give Dean some type of reaction?

"How long has that been going on?" John asks, and, again, the way he phrases it almost sounds negative, but the fact that he's taking an interest sounds positive. There are too many mixed vibes right now.

"Six years." It's a little more than that — probably more like six and a half, but neither of them really know. They didn't exactly have a calendar in Purgatory, and there was a lot more to focus on than counting sunsets when they were fighting for their lives.

"Oh, wow," John says. "Okay, that's what I'm most surprised by, hands down."

"What do you mean?" Dean asks cautiously.

"Well, you were always big with one night stands," John says. "It never occurred to me that you'd grow out of it."

Dean puts his coffee cup back down on the counter, not feeling the need to hide his face anymore. He's not worried anymore. Now he's just confused.

"And that's it?" Dean asks.

"What's it?"

"That's the only response you have?" Dean asks.

"Is there something else you want me to say?" John asks.

"Well, no, but I thought you'd..." He trails off. His dad doesn't seem to care. Why is he pushing it?

"Thought I'd what?" John asks.

"Never mind."

John presses his lips into a firm line, eyeing his son for a few moments. Dean waits for him to say something, but, when he doesn't in the first few seconds, he looks away, turning his attention back to his coffee.

"You know," John says finally, "I'm not gonna lie, it's going to take a little bit to wrap my head around the fact that you're dating an angel. But if you couldn't get out of the hunting life, I'm glad you found someone else in it to keep you company — someone outside your family. I'm just... I'm just really glad you're happy."

Dean can't help but smile. This is really all he wanted — it's more than he wanted. All that worrying, and for what? His dad doesn't care. Hell, his dad is happy for him.

And, honestly, he's happy for himself, too. He has his whole family together. He has both his parents and his brother together for the first time in over 35 years; he has a wonderful not-technically-son Jack; and he has a boyfriend he loves with everything he has. What more could he ask for?