Supernatural Birthday Cake Funny Supernatural Faces

Chapter Text

Dean was having a few lazy days off and it was awesome. No meetings, no phone calls, no annoying business partners, and most importantly no annoying suits. Not that Dean's tailored Armani suits were uncomfortable, but that didn't mean he had to like them. Having the few days between Christmas and New Year's off was pure heaven, and now that Christmas and all the family festivities were over, he was actually able to spend his days in baggy jeans, a slightly ripped Star Wars shirt, and his favorite washed out plaid under an old leather jacket. Not having to shave was an added bonus. All this was, to be completely honest, his idea of luxury.

He knew he looked shabby, yet Dean absolutely didn't care. It was his only vacation of the year and he would spend it whichever way he wanted … even if that meant freezing his balls off. Maybe the old leather jacket hadn't been the smartest idea with temperatures below freezing and all the snow coming down. His scarf and beanie could do only so much to compensate.

Warm air engulfed him the moment he stepped into the Target. Dean sighed in relief as he took off his damp beanie and gloves and loosened his scarf. Over Christmas time, there had been dinners either at restaurants or his family's various houses, so Dean had been sloppy and had neglected to keep his own pantry stocked. However, a few lazy days without popcorn, beer, and homemade burgers was definitely no way to spend his precious free time.

Not being one to socialize during his vacation Dean, kept his head down as he grabbed everything he needed in record time and made his way to the checkout. The store was pleasantly quiet and only one checkout was open. He stepped in line and was already thinking about his options of what to do later that day. Rewatch every Star Wars movie? Catch up on his favorite shows? Try the new video game Charlie bought him for Christmas? Oh, so many choices.

Playing on his phone, Dean waited while the line moved forward one person at a time. After one more person, he was able to put his own stuff down on the conveyor. He placed his phone in his pocket since it was bad manners to step up to the cashier while being on one's phone. For the first time since entering the store, this left him with nothing to do but to pay attention to his surroundings.

And just in time, as it seemed.

"Can't you hurry up!" The guy in front of him sneered. "Some people are important and actually have places to be!"

Intrigued, Dean leaned slightly to the side to look past the man in the expensive-looking suit. What he saw made his heart ache. The guy in front of them was fumbling with his money, a little girl with pigtails in a pink beanie was sitting in the shopping cart. Dean could see some basic groceries, including fresh fruits and greens. The little girl was holding a plastic container with a cake that had "Happy Birthday" written in pink icing. The guy was still fumbling with his money, mumbling about not having enough while he checked the pockets of his trench coat, which looked like it had seen better days.

"Are you deaf? You're holding up the line," the dick in the suit said. As trench coat guy turned towards the man to apologize, Dean got a clear view of his face and his heart ached for the stranger. Not because he was positively handsome – which he was, no questions asked – but more importantly because Dean knew exactly how this man felt. He'd been there. The pain and sorrow of being helpless, not being enough for your kid. Not knowing how you were going to feed them, or how to care for them. It was all there, written so clearly on the man's face and in his brilliant blue eyes. He looked tired, drained, defeated.

After apologizing to the snob, Trench Coat turned around to the little girl. "Claire Bear, I'm sorry. Can you please give me the cake back?"

"But Uncle Cas, it's my birthday!"

"I know, Sweetie, and I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you, okay?"

"No!!"

"Claire, please."

Dean was familiar with the face the little girl was pulling. He'd seen it often enough with his baby brother Sam, and in more recent days with his niece and nephew when they were cranky. Just a few more seconds and the little girl would be bawling her eyes out.

"Sir," the cashier spoke quietly, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. "I'm sorry, but …"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. The cake … I'll leave it here."

Brushing his hand over her hair and pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead, the guy was able to pull the sweet treat out of his niece's hands. She squeaked in protest, but ultimately let go of it without throwing a tantrum. Dean was stunned. He would've sworn that she would cry. Instead, she only sniffled and Dean had the sinking feeling that she was used to giving up on things she wanted.

The whole thing would have been over at this point, if the snob hadn't decided to speak up once more. "Don't waste everyone's time if you can't pay for your shit!"

Trench Coat seemed to deflate even more, waiting patiently while the cashier called her manager so he could take the item off of the register. Dean saw the guy's hands trembling slightly, but what bothered him more was the language this dick used in front of a little girl. That and the fact that it was clear this family of two was struggling. The fact that Trench Coat had decided to leave the sugary cake behind instead of the more expensive but healthy greens spoke volumes in Dean's eyes.

Not so much for the douche, as it seemed. Because he wasn't done yet. "Or maybe you need another government handout that comes from my taxes?!"

At that, Dean couldn't take it any longer.

"Hey man, that's enough," he spoke up, making himself known for the first time. Immediately, the dick whirled around, all his anger now directed at Dean.

"Who do you think you are? Do you have any idea who you're talking to?"

"No, I don't," Dean deadpanned. And he wasn't even lying. The guy looked vaguely familiar, but for the life of him, Dean couldn't place that face. He was almost as tall as Dean with short, brownish hair and a face some would consider handsome, but it was rendered completely unattractive thanks to the look of disgust he wore. Dean was pretty sure he would've hit on the guy had they met under different circumstances. Now, thankfully, he knew what kind of ass the guy was.

The man's face turned red, yet at the same time, a haughty expression took root. As if he was a king looking down at a dirty peasant. "Of course you don't. Guess scum like you wouldn't worry about the makings of our country."

Not that Dean was interested in knowing any more or indulging the guy by faking interest. But the manager was just now arriving to take the cake off the purchase, so Dean took the bait, if only to keep the man occupied. "Oh, so you're saying you're some hotshot big name?"

"I sure am. I'm Dick Roman, CEO of Roman Motor Industries. That should ring a bell."

Dean's eyes bulged because now the man certainly had his attention. "Oh. Yes. Yes, that name does ring a bell."

With a haughty sneer, Dick (and how fitting was that?) was about to turn around again. But Trench Coat still wasn't done, and Dean really didn't want the poor guy to suffer any more. He also really, truly wanted to spite that douchebag.

Thinking quickly, Dean put on what he liked to call his "ass-kissing" voice. A voice he didn't have to use anymore these days but had perfected a long time ago when he was much younger. "I'm so sorry, Sir," he started, immediately getting the guy's attention again. "I had no idea you were so important. Say, is it true that you're about to sign this huge deal with Winchester Singer Automobile that's all over the news?"

Dick's eyes narrowed slightly, but Dean wasn't concerned. They'd never met in person before and even if the guy had seen a picture of him, Dean was sure he wouldn't recognize him.

"I don't know how that is any of your concern, but yes. That's true. It's a multi-million dollar deal, so you see I don't have time to waste on the likes of you." On that note he turned back towards Trench Coat, making it known whom he was talking about. Both the manager and cashier threw him a withering look but stayed out of it. Dick Roman's face might not be the most memorable, but his name certainly was. And he was well known to be a shark with a tank full of shady lawyers. One really didn't want to get on his bad side.

But, oh well, what was life without a bit of fun.

"Certainly, Mr. Roman. But, ehm," Dean played the ass-kisser for just a moment longer. "Would you mind if I asked you for your business card?" Dick Roman's narrowed eyes were on him once more, so Dean was quick to clarify. "I guess it won't hurt having the contact info of such an important man as yourself."

Still smooth as fuck, Winchester.

Smugly, Douchebag Dick handed him a business card and Dean quickly checked it. Plain as day, black ink on ivory paper: Dick Roman, CEO of Roman Motor Industries. Douchebag was telling the truth.

"Awesome," Dean replied, while he was pulling something out of his wallet. "And here's my business card."

Roman's face went back to an angry red. "Why the hell would I want your –"

That was the moment his eyes wandered towards the card Dean had pressed into his hands and Dean could pinpoint the second he caught the name. With great satisfaction, he also saw the moment the guy put two and two together. He went pale and looked back up at Dean.

"Now that you know my name, rest assured you'll have all the damn time in the world. The deal with my company? Won't happen."

Dean wasn't a malicious person, but right in that moment, he could feel himself basking in Dick Roman's suffering.

"Mr. … Mr. Winchester. Sir. You … you can't do that!"

"Really now? I don't see a problem there. Nothing's been signed yet. There's a reason we've waited so long and now I know our gut feeling was justified."

The red in the man's face grew even darker. So much so that Dean was actually a bit worried about Dick's blood pressure. "How dare you let something like this influence a multi-million dollar deal. That is outrageous! Scandalous!"

"No, what's outrageous and scandalous is your behavior towards those in need and the way you act and talk in front of a little girl. I will not have my company's name associated with yours in any way at all." At that very moment, Dean taught the man an important lesson. It wasn't all about the looks. It was the presence you carried that made the man you were. It didn't matter if Dean was wearing flannel and ratty jeans, or a tailored Armani suit: he was Dean Winchester, CEO, co-owner, and sole heir of America's largest automobile chain company, and his voice and stance showed that to the world.

Leaning in only slightly, Dean lowered his voice. He and Dick had the attention of the other three adults present, no reason to get the rest of the store involved. "And don't even try to put your lawyers up against me. I take it you're well enough informed to know my brother's the DA. Since there are no signed papers, I hope you're intelligent enough to know you wouldn't have a snowball's chance in hell if you went against me or my business."

The staring contest lasted two, maybe three more seconds, before Dick Roman faltered, left his groceries on the conveyer, and stormed out of the store. In the wake of his disappearance, the four adults left behind were quiet for a few more seconds before Dean turned back towards the others, a bit embarrassed for playing "snobby business guy" himself. "I'm sorry for that. I shouldn't have –"

"Are you kidding? That was freaking awesome!" the girl behind the counter replied, beaming at him. She sobered when her manager nudged her slightly, but even he was grinning as he left them. Trench Coat seemed to have paid for his purchases while Dean had knocked the dick down a peg or two and was ready to leave. Though, not before giving Dean a thin, almost watery smile. "Thank you very much. I honestly appreciate it."

Not knowing what else to do, Dean nodded and returned the smile. "You're welcome."

One last smile and Trench Coat turned around and pushed the cart with his little girl towards the exit; the sweet kid waved at Dean. He sent her a smile and waved back.

"Ehm, Sir?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry."

The cashier had already put aside the stuff Dick had left (and yes, he was still internally grinning about the name) and was now waiting on him. He handed her his card, only to catch a glimpse of pink icing which stopped him in his tracks. "Hold on. Would you please give me that birthday cake?"

"Really?"

Dean had no idea if this was the best idea he'd ever had or maybe just the creepiest, but he nodded nevertheless. The smile on the cashier's face made him hope that it was more nice than creepy. Packing up quickly, he got an extra bag for the cake, put his beanie and gloves back on, and wished the girl behind the counter a Happy New Year. He made a mad dash for the exit. With a bit of luck, Trench Coat would still be in the not-so-crowded parking lot.

Luck seemed not to be on his side. Except for his own Baby, his beautiful '67 Chevy Impala, there were only three other cars in the parking lot and none of them looked like someone had recently opened the doors, the snow still an untouched blanket over all of them. The snow came down even harder now, forcing Dean to pull up his jacket and tighten his scarf. Looking around once more, his shoulders slumped with the realization that Trench Coat and his little girl were nowhere to be seen; they were probably long gone. He couldn't make out any footprints, every possible evidence already taken away by the rapidly falling snow.

Dean made another mad dash to his car. He knew he could have parked directly in front of the store, seeing how empty the parking lot was, but with weather like this he would never, ever risk some idiot losing control of their car and damaging his Baby. So what if he almost froze his balls off crossing the whole parking lot? At least his Baby was safe next to the hedge that separated the lot from a side street. Putting his purchases into the trunk, Dean was quick to free his Baby from the snow. Just as he got to the last window, it seemed Luck decided to return to him. Or maybe it was Fate, or perhaps it was nothing like that and just simple coincidence. Through the hedge, Dean could hear the voice of a little girl on the other side. "Uncle Cas, I'm so cold."

"I know, Claire Bear. I'm sorry."

The hedge wasn't too thick, so he could see the people behind it if he was looking closely. Trench Coat – or "Cas" as it seemed – stopped walking as his niece complained and kneeled down in front of her, pulling her closer.

"I'm really sorry. And I'm sorry about the cake; I really wanted to get it for you."

He hugged her tightly, burrowing his face in her hair. A fist was clenched around Dean's heart making it hard to breathe. For a second, he had a flashback of an old memory. He saw himself, hugging his brother close, apologizing for not being able to buy him his favorite breakfast cereals.

And just like Sammy had done as a five-year-old, little Claire patted her uncle's head. "It's okay, Uncle Cas. I still love you."

Dean pressed his fist against his mouth to keep from gasping and to stop himself from crying. He should not – he absolutely should not – be witnessing this moment. But he just couldn't look away. Cas was squeezing his niece once more and Dean knew, he just knew the guy was crying or close to it while trying to get a grip on himself.

Another squeeze and he let her go with one last kiss on the forehead. "One day, my sweet Claire Bear, I will buy you all the cake in the world, okay?"

That made the girl giggle and hug her uncle tight.

"And can I have an extra blanket tonight? I'm so cold, Uncle Cas."

Dean's heart dropped as he could practically see the guy's face go pale.

"How about you sleep in my bed and we cuddle until you're warm?"

"Yes," Claire replied with a big smile, not realizing the struggles her uncle had to go through. Or at least, not as much. And it was better this way. Dean knew exactly why Cas couldn't give her another blanket. He'd been there, cuddling with Sammy because they only had two shabby blankets. Sometimes just one.

Cas seemed determined to finally get home. After all, the snow grew thicker and the wind had started to pick up. But before he did, he took of his own scarf to add to his niece's attire. Dean was freezing solely from watching the guy. Okay, so he was also freezing because damn, he'd been standing here for way too long. Why the hell hadn't he put on a thick coat? Oh right, because it was his vacation and he hadn't even planned on leaving his couch, much less standing in a parking lot, stalking a cute guy and his niece.

Once he was done, Cas took the bag with his purchase in one hand and his niece's hand with the other, before getting up and continuing to walk down the side road.

"Uncle Cas, I don't wanna walk," the girl started up her complaining right away and Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"I know. But our car isn't working, you know that."

"But it's so far."

"It's not far, little Claire Bear. It's only five blocks. Now, can you show me with your hand how much five is?"

Dean couldn't see if Claire gave the correct answer, but he didn't care. In that moment, he decided that these two wouldn't even have to walk one block in the cold. Quickly getting behind the wheel, he turned the heater up to maximum and made for the parking lot exit. Thank God Bobby gave him the ultimatum of either putting snow chains on his Baby's tires or switching to a pickup truck during winter.

Entering the quiet, small side road, Dean caught up to the two pedestrians before he had given a thought to how he would broach the subject of giving them a ride. Simply telling the man, "hey, sorry, I just witnessed your almost breakdown, I can help," seemed just as bad as the option of, "hey, do you want to get in the car of a complete stranger with your lovely niece?"

Maybe Fate really had her hand in this. Just as Dean pulled up next to them, the paper bag with the man's groceries broke, probably too wet from the snow. Dean could hear him mutter a litany of "no, no, oh no," and a defeated "why?" while Claire already started to pick up the fallen apples and oranges. He let the motor run to keep the heat going as he got out of the car and headed to the trunk. Carefully, Dean took the birthday cake out of the paper bag, closed the trunk, and stepped towards the little girl.

"Here. Put them in here."

He knelt down and held the bag while little Claire collected everything, not questioning that a stranger was helping her.

The first indication that Cas had broken out of his stupor was a small "Oh," followed by the man himself kneeling down. "You don't have to do that. Thank you so much, I can take it from here." As he reached for the bag, Dean noticed with shock that he wasn't even wearing gloves. His hands were red from the cold, making Dean want to warm them between his own. Instead, he handed the bag over and picked up some more fallen items.

"Please, Mr. Winchester. You really don't need to do that. It's cold, you should get back in your car."

"And let you and your niece freeze to death? I don't think so," Dean replied while putting a kohlrabi in the bag. "How far do you have to walk?" No need to admit he already knew it was way too far.

Before Cas could answer, little Claire threw in, "Sooooo far," making Dean smile.

"It's not that far, Claire. Please, Mr. Winchester. We don't want to bother you."

For the first time, Dean looked at the man. Really looked at him. His face was gaunt and sickly pale; his blue eyes were dull; even though Dean guessed the man wasn't much older than him he could already see a few gray hairs amongst the dark mess.

There was no hesitation when Dean replied, "You're not bothering me. What would bother me would be my conscience if I drove home now, knowing your niece might get sick from walking home during a snowstorm."

He knew it wasn't really fair, playing this card. But he had a feeling that this man was easier to convince when his niece's well-being was at stake. At least, that's how Dean had always been when it came to Sam.

And just like he would've acted in the same situation, he saw the man's resolution break. With a simple nod Cas gave in.

"Awesome, now let's get in the car," Dean replied, grinning at Claire as she jumped up and down, squealing in delight. Opening the door, Dean helped her climb in and sit down in one of the two children's seats he always kept for Sam's kids.

"We don't even know each other yet," he said while buckling her up. He pulled off one of his leather gloves and held his hand out for a handshake. "I'm Dean."

"I'm Claire."

"Claire, nice to meet you."

The girl giggled as Dean gave her one last smile before carefully closing the door. Putting the glove back on, he looked at Cas, who still stood there, frozen like a pillar of salt.

"You gonna get in? Or do you want me to drive away with just your niece in my car?"

Dean kept his tone light, but it still jolted Cas into action. Balancing the grocery bag in one hand, he opened the passenger door and got in.

Once they were all back in the car, Cas gave him directions to his house and Dean made sure to drive carefully. Snow chains could only do so much in weather like this.

While Cas was quiet after that, Claire seemed happy about meeting someone, if her babbling was any indication. Dean indulged the little girl and kept the conversation going.

"And did you know," she asked him after a few minutes, "that my uncle is an angel?"

The question made Dean chuckle and he threw a cautious gaze in the rearview mirror. "Is he now?"

"She means I'm named after an angel," Cas explained, his voice clipped. Clearly, he didn't feel as comfortable in the car as his niece did. "My full name is Castiel."

"Ah, the angel of Thursday, right?"

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Cas shift, probably to look at him, but he didn't take his eyes off the road.

"Among other things, yes," came the reply at long last.

They had almost reached their destination before either of them spoke again. This time, it was Cas that started the conversation.

"Will you have problems for what you just did?" When Dean threw him a confused stare, Cas clarified: "With this Dick Roman guy. Will your company suffer?"

"Oh." Dean grinned at the memory. "Nah, not at all. I mean, I'll admit, it would've been a lucrative contract. But no. Bobby – that's my partner – he and I have talked about the possible contract for a while now, but never really pushed for it. No, I think Roman Motor Industries needs a contract with a big Automobile House much more than we need him." Giving Cas another reassuring smile, Dean added, "Really, don't worry about it. And I wasn't lying: a man like that Dick? Wouldn't want him even close to my company."

His admission seemed to ease some of Cas' worries.

Before long, he pulled up in front of an apartment building and Dean did a double take, recognizing the type of building even though it had been years since he and Sammy shared one of these hole-in-the-wall places they called apartments. They hadn't lived in this exact building; theirs had been a few numbers down the street. But these complexes were basically all the same and Dean remembered how he had celebrated the day they were leaving the shithole. No wonder poor Claire was freezing. The heating system was most likely broken and the landlord probably too stingy to have it repaired. He wondered if it was the same old fart that rented to him almost fifteen years ago.

"Thank you for the ride." Castiel's slightly warmer tone brought Dean back to the present and he was met with a soft smile that reached Cas' eyes. "And for everything else."

"Anytime."

"Claire, what do you say?"

"Thank you, Mr. Dean."

"You're very welcome, little Miss Claire," Dean replied, getting out of the car as well. The weather hadn't gotten worse while they drove, but it also hadn't gotten any better.

While Cas was helping Claire out of the car, Dean fetched the cake from the trunk and held it behind his back. Kneeling down in front of Claire, he smiled at her once more.

"Claire, do you think you can help me with something?"

Before answering, she looked up at her uncle, but Cas only shrugged. Taking her uncle's hand, she nodded at Dean.

"You see," Dean finally explained. "There was a little mix up at the check-out earlier and I suddenly found myself with this." Showing her the cake, he had to wipe away the snow that had already landed on the plastic. But Claire still gasped in delight. "The problem is, my birthday isn't for a few more weeks and I don't know anyone whose birthday it is soon. Do you maybe know someone?"

"Meee! Me, it's my birthday today."

Letting out a mock-stunned gasp, Dean looked at her with wide eyes. "No way. Is it now?"

Claire nodded so wildly, the few blond locks that had found their way out of her pink beanie bounced up and down.

"Well then, would you mind taking this? I wouldn't want it to go to waste."

Instead of taking it right away, Claire turned towards her uncle, pulling on his arm pleadingly. "Can I, please Uncle Cas, please, please, please?"

When the man didn't reply right away, Dean looked up at him for the first time, afraid he might find anger in his face. After all, Cas most likely had taught his girl not to take candy from strangers.

What he saw made him almost tear up.

Cas was looking down at him with watery eyes, his gaze a mix of utter disbelief and deep appreciation. Dean held the gaze, all too aware of how overwhelming it could be to receive kindness for the first time after years of being pushed down and ridiculed. He had no idea how long Castiel had already suffered through this. When the man mouthed a "Thank you," towards him, all he could do was nod.

"Uncle Cas, please say yes," Claire begged again, pulling the two men out of their bubble.

Taking his eyes off of Dean, Cas now looked at his niece. "Of course you can take it, Claire Bear." The girl squealed excitedly as Cas added, "but remember your manners."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Dean," she said as she took the cake out of Dean's hands. Then she threw her arms around Dean's neck and hugged him close. Surprised, but not complaining at all, Dean hugged her back and held on for a moment before letting go and getting up.

"Now you should get inside where it's warm."

At that, Claire's face fell just a little bit. "It's not that warm inside."

"Claire," Castiel cut in, his tone just a bit harsher. He amended it right away as he continued. "Why don't you take your cake inside, I'll be there in just a second."

"Okay," Claire said and waving at Dean once more, she skipped along the short entrance way towards the building.

Cas watched her until she made it inside, then turned back towards Dean and held out his hand, his grocery bag still in his other arm. "Once again, thank you very much, Mr. Winchester."

"Please," Dean replied, taking his hand. "Call me Dean."

Cas didn't reply. Maybe it was stupid of Dean; after all, this might very well be the first and last time they saw each other. But Dean didn't care.

Releasing the man's hand, he got his wallet out again to get another business card. "Look, I have to confess something," he started, already handing Cas the card. "I heard part of your conversation earlier and I know about your car trouble. You know Winchester Singer Automobile offers payment in installments, right?"

Cas looked down at the card and then over to the parking lot of the apartment complex. "That's kind of you, but I don't think I would ever be able to pay for what is needed to get this piece of junk on the road again. Installment or not."

"Which one is it?" Dean asked, out of pure curiosity.

As Cas pointed towards the lot, Dean noticed once more how red the man's hands were from being exposed to the cold for so long. He needed to get inside.

"The green VW Golf over there."

Dean followed his finger and barely just made out the car in question under layers of snow.

"Well, anyway," Cas finally said. "I need to get inside to look after Claire."

"Yeah, you do that."

They shared another long gaze before Cas finally started to move. "Thanks again. Dean."

Smiling, Dean gave a little wave. "No problem, Cas."

After Cas vanished behind the front door, Dean hurried back to his warm car. He got out of his soaked beanie and scarf, even shrugged out of the leather jacket and leather gloves. Holding his clammy fingers over the heater, he rubbed them together, waiting for feeling to return. Once his hands were finally warm, it hit him like a freight train. Cas and Claire were up there, cold and soaking wet and probably freezing without any heat or extra blankets to warm them. There was nothing he could do about it, other than dragging them out and letting them sleep in his guest bedroom until the heating in this building was back on.

Or maybe instead he could just get them … well, should he really? Would Cas take the gift? Well, maybe if he didn't give him a choice to return it?

Pondering for just a moment longer, Dean made his decision. Minding the icy, snow-covered road, Dean turned his Baby around and made the slow drive back towards Target.

Putting the last of the groceries away, Cas sighed at how empty the fridge and pantry still were. He'd spent the last of his money for these few meager things. He needed to find another way to get more money or it would be the soup kitchen for them again. Cas took little jobs wherever he could, but it was never enough. At least the rent was already paid for the next month.

Resting his head against the closed fridge, a few silent tears ran down his face. He wished he could turn back time; wished for Claire's parents to still be alive; wished for a way to get a stable job again and still have a way to take care of Claire; wished to be able to live somewhere where the landlord would have the heating system repaired; wished for a damn warm blanket.

"Uncle Cas, I'm cold."

Trying hard to suppress a whimper, Cas took a deep breath before quickly wiping his tears away. Turning around, he picked Claire up, holding her close. She already had a warm bath and Cas had hoped it would help at least for a little while.

"I know, Sweetie. How about we put you in one of my big, fluffy hoodies?"

"'kayyy." The gloomy tone of Claire's voice cut deep. Nevertheless, she snuggled close to him and while he held on tight and walked to his bedroom, he couldn't help but fear the day that she would blame him for everything bad in her life.

He'd just put her in his last piece of warm clothing when a knock at their front door sounded. "I'll go," Claire yelled and was on her way to the front door before Cas could object.

Hurrying after her, Cas caught his niece just as she was about to open the door. "Claire, how often do I have to tell you? Do not answer the door. You don't know who's behind it."

Making sure she was behind his leg – one seriously never knew what to expect here – Cas left the chain locked and opened the door as far as it would go.

No one was there.

"Uncle Cas, look! A sheep. Is that for me?"

A what?

Looking down, Cas saw three big bags, the red Target logo on each of them.

What the hell?

Curious, Cas closed the door to get the chain unlocked, before opening it again and stepping outside. The hallway was deserted, save for the bags.

"Oh, he's so fluffy! I'll name him Puffy." Claire was already holding the plushie in her arms, cuddling it close, while Cas was at a loss as what to do.

Where did these things come from? Did someone mix up the doors and these were for another family? What was this even?

"Claire, please put the sheep down."

"But …"

"Sweetie, we don't know if this is for us or who left it here."

"But it's so fluffy."

"Claire, now."

The plushy didn't look threatening. But who knew. Maybe someone had put in some drugs. Or poison. He had no rational explanation as to why someone would want to hurt them, but there were crazy people out there, so who knew.

It seemed though that Claire had reached her limits on things she would give up today. "No! It's my birthday. I want it."

Sighing in defeat, Cas let her be for the moment and rather inspected the bags. Now that he actually paid attention to them, it was hard to miss the two envelopes peeking out of one of the bags. Picking them up, Castiel was sure to read unfamiliar names.

But that wasn't the case.

A first hunch made him open the envelope with his own name as quick as possible, opening it without paying any attention to the picture on the front.

"Claire, stay here," he commanded the moment his eyes fell on the signature, already sprinting down the hallway. His first instinct was to run down the stairs, but he knew it would take him too long to get to the entrance. Instead, he stooped at the big window overlooking the front of the apartment building. It was pitch black outside, the only light coming from a few lamp posts. Under one of those he could just make out the sleek black car he knew he'd find there, as well as the man rushing towards the driver's side. Just before he got inside the car, the man looked up towards the building; Cas quickly stepped back from the window. Thanks to the fact that he hadn't switched on the lights in the hallway, he was sure Dean hadn't seen him. The next moment, Dean was in his car and drove off.

Not knowing how to feel about all this, Cas made his way back to the apartment where Claire had already pulled one of the bags inside. Looking around the door, Cas saw her being rolled up in a thick, woolen blanket made of green and blue colors.

Her smile was so big it warmed her uncle's heart.

"Uncle Cas, look! We've got blankets now. This is so warm and fluffy, can I have it?"

"Of course you can, my sweet Claire Bear."

His niece's happiness was all that mattered, his bruised pride be damned. Taking the other two bags inside, he closed and locked the doors again, before picking up the third bag as well.

"Wanna come and check out what your Birthday Fairy brought us all?"

"Yes!"

Gathering the blanket around her like a dress, her new sheep still in one arm, Claire ran after him as he made his way to his bedroom and set the bags on his bed.

As it turned out, Dean had gotten them two thick bedspreads, one in lilac, one in navy blue; a second woolen blanket in warm browns and reds; as well as two space heaters. On the very bottom of one bag, he also found a set of dark blue mittens, a scarf, and a beanie. There was no set for Claire – Dean had obviously noticed there was no need for that.

Sitting on his bed later on and watching Claire play with Puffy (ten more years and he would tease her about that name), one of the space heaters already warming up his room as well as the living room where Claire slept, Cas finally had time to really read the card addressed to him.

It was one of those typical cards one could buy at Target, with a four-leaf clover and the writing "Best Wishes To You". On the inside, one side was covered in multiple little pictures of good luck charms. On the other side was Dean's almost neat, yet rushed handwriting.

Cas,

Please take these things and don't think about it further. I know how you feel – I've been there, trust me. I know you won't like it, but do it for Claire. And for your own health, because who will care for her when you get too sick to do so?

A smile tugged on Cas' lips. Seemed like the man already knew his weak spot. Not that it was hard to guess or anything.

I hope Claire will like the sheep and will give it some ridiculously funny name. I added a card for her, but of course it's up to you if you want to tell her who these things are from.

I'm also giving you my cellphone number. I don't know much about you, but I have a feeling that you're like I was back then: too proud to ask for help. That's okay, I understand. But I want you to know that whenever you need my help, no matter what it is, just call me. Or even just text. I was there once and only made it out because someone offered a helping hand and for once, I wasn't too proud to take it. Now I'm in a position to be this helping hand – so I hope you'll take it as well.

All the best for you and Claire

Dean W.

Cas read the text twice. If he had any internet access, he would google for Dean Winchester, because now he was so curious about this multi-millionaire's past.

Wiping away a tear, he picked up the second envelope, and even though it was addressed to Claire, he opened it.

It was a similar card, only this one clearly meant for a kid, with lots of colors, rainbows, four-leaf clovers, and sheep. On the inside, a bigger sheep wished the kid a "Happy Baaathday." It was such a cute card. He'd also noticed that none of the things Dean had gotten for Claire had the typical girly pink.

He liked the man more and more each minute.

Hello Birthday Girl,

I hope the cake was yummy – maybe you left some for your new friend? I told him to keep you warm every time you squeeze him tight. If he's not doing his job right, let me know and I'll talk with him once more.

I wish you all the best, little Miss Claire.

Happy Birthday

Dean

After he'd read it once more, this time out loud for Claire to hear, he made sure to get the little girl to bed. She was four now and still okay with sleeping in what was their living room by day. Soon, she would be older and demand her own room. But for now, she was happy to cuddle with Puffy under her new, blissfully warm blankets.

Lying in his own bed only a few minutes later, Cas went through the old newspapers his neighbor was so kind to give to him. Each night, he would look through the jobs offered and would call them the next day. It was almost always too late and on the odd chance that it wasn't, other problems came up. All he could do was hoping to get a call from the Temporary Employment & Staffing Agency and then also be able to find a place for Claire to stay while he worked for a little bit of cash. He had two places in this building where he could ask: the nice old lady with so many cats Cas wasn't even sure he had seen all of them in the two years he knew her; or the teenage girl with so many piercings Cas was sure he'd never be able to count them, even if he tried. Both were not the best options and it always left him on edge. But Claire liked them and they seemed to be good people. And they didn't cost him as much money as the "unofficial daycare" a friend of his ran. She was more expensive, but whenever Cas had been able to afford it over the past two years, he'd preferred it. Once or twice he had even needed to smuggle her to his workplace and hide her. It was the worst option of them all and he was grateful for whatever guardian angel had made sure he'd never gotten caught and who made sure Claire was safe no matter where she was.

He was looking for a normal daycare for Claire, but the problem there was always the same: money. All he could do was promise that having Claire in the daycare would lead to him having a stable job and thus more money. But they wouldn't let him pay later on, so it was never an option.

Sick and tired of having his thoughts in circles all the time over problems he couldn't fix, Cas put aside the newspaper and picked up Dean's card once more. The number on it was taunting him. But what should he do? Call Dean and beg him for a job? Beg him for money? No, he just couldn't do that, it had nothing to do with his pride. More with some common decency. Dean had offered so much already and Cas was certainly not about to take advantage of him.

But at least he had a way to say thanks once more, so that was exactly what he would do.

[Text from you] Thank you once again. Claire loves "Puffy" as she has named him. She's already asleep, warm under her new blankets. Thank you for the things for me, I appreciate them very much. Have a good night. Cas

He didn't count on a reply, so he switched off his light and lied down; only to be surprised by the buzzing of his phone.

[Text from Dean] I'm glad you accepted the gifts. Love the name Claire chose – it certainly fits. You have a good night as well. And please: if you need anything, let me know. Dean

Smiling, all Cas did was to send back a smiling emoji and a thumbs up. Then he put his phone aside and snuggled under the blankets. For the first time in weeks, he fell asleep without his teeth chattering.

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Source: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10815960/chapters/23995992

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