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Dean's daughter had green eyes. His eyes. Standing over the edge of her crib, staring down at her, Castiel wondered how he could have imagined her with any other colour.
He also wondered if most one-month-old children were supposed to be this small.
Coming back to the abbey was difficult, after five months abroad with Sam (in which Castiel could hardly call himself a servant at all much to Sam's insistence) returning to his regular duties within the Winchester household had been an adjustment, a distinctly unwelcome one.
Castiel never believed himself the type of man to feel intimidated by a babies nursery, but the simple existence of it had made the upstairs for Castiel unbearable. Being busy with his routine downstairs made it easier for him to avoid dwelling on the space in his chest that had been steadily growing over the last year, ever since he'd heard those fateful words.
'Cas, Charlie and I are having a baby.'
Castiel had felt as though all the air had been pulled from his lungs, and now looking at Dean's sleeping child, Castiel felt a sharp stab of pain to know both that he had missed so much of the child’s life already and pain at the child’s existence.
A child.
Castiel could still pinpoint the exact moment Sam had received the telegram.
The babies come, a healthy girl.
Listening to Sam read aloud the entirety of the message; about how the baby was healthy and how overjoyed Dean, Charlie and his lord and ladyship all were, tore Castiel asunder. Caught between happy and something far darker for the newlywed couple, Castiel had cried into Sam's arms and then laughed at his own foolishness.
Sam had just held him, strong and silent. And reiterated to Castiel the one thing he already knew;
'We need to go home Cas.'
And so, once Castiel had collected himself, home was where they went.
A sleeping child was in the abbey now, only a few days away from being two months old. Cradled with all the warmth and love being born into high society could afford. She was swathed in a soft blanket. Looking at her, Castiel felt a little bit of the freeze within his chest thaw. This was Dean's daughter, a part of him, and as such, Castiel could not loathe her.
He may have had to leave during the first few months of her life, but he thought it was the right thing to do-aware of the effect his presence and emotions were having on her parents. Despair may have sent him away, and a self-loathing sort of jealousy, but it was love that brought him back, love and longing. Here in England was everything that mattered to him.
And now Dean's daughter would matter to him.
Even if the abbey did not feel like home anymore.
When Dean had told Castiel of Charlie's pregnancy his face shone with breathless excitement. He'd pulled Castiel aside into his dressing room, took the valets face in his hands and kissed him deeply.
'Dean!' Castiel had laughed. It had been a while since Dean had been so amorous with him. After almost half a year of marriage Dean and Castiel both had been run ragged, preparing for the wedding and the changing household, their new dynamic with Charlie between them. Everyone had been run off their feet, shaken and left on unstable ground.
'I'm going to be a father Cas!' Dean crowed with delight before he enveloped Castiel in a hug. He drew back then, his face slackening in sudden anxiety. 'Oh god-I'm going to be a father.'
The devastating blow of Charlie's pregnancy struck Castiel straight in the chest. He had to fight with himself not to show it. He had known this was coming, known that when Dean and Charlie had sat him down and told him they were trying to conceive that he would dread this day, and the months to follow more than words could possibly express. But with the reality of the moment there, his stomach turned sick on itself, he could feel a lump rising in his throat and if he could have excused himself then he would have.
But Dean was pale, chewing on his lower lip nervously.
Before Dean succumbed to his fear Castiel held the lords hands to his cheeks, turned his head and kissed the inside of Dean's wrist.
“Dean,” he said, voice dropped low to a whisper. “You and Miss Charlotte are going to raise a beautiful, bright, healthy child. I guarantee it.”
Every single word he spoke had broken his heart.
The sound of the door drew Castiel from his reverie.
“I think of her as much yours as she is mine,” said Dean.
Castiel looked up from the baby folded in blankets to Dean standing there, the nursery door closed behind him.
He looked at his lover over his shoulder, body still turned to the baby. “But that's not true is it?”
“It could be.” Dean stepped close enough to Castiel that the Valet could almost feel the heat of Dean's body through their clothing. They stood practically eye to eye, with Dean placing a soft, hesitant hand on Castiel's shoulder, peering over him down into the crib.
Delicate lashes dusted against the ridges of his cheeks as he gazed at Castiel from the corner of his eye line. “I'm glad you came Cas. Sam came and saw her as soon as you both got back, she looked like a doll being held in his arms.”
From anyone else the phrasing would sound admonishing, but from Dean it was just the truth. Still, Castiel shifted, feeling Dean squeeze his hand then drop it entirely from his shoulder, sliding down his side to rest on his hip.
Castiel's eyes fluttered without his accord. He kept himself back from relaxing into the touch. “I had duties to attend to, tasks-”
“For two weeks?” Dean's fingers were rubbing soft circles into Castiel's side, across his hip, through his livery. Despite the hour-for it was well after dinner when Castiel should have been downstairs eating with the rest of the staff-Dean looked lively and more serious than Castiel could remember him being in a long time. “I know you've been avoiding us. Me.”
Castiel swallowed, it was not a lie.
He was saved from replying by an infants gurgling. The child was awake, and had yet to shed tears-
Dean fell from Castiel's orbit and reached into the child's crib with the speed of a comet. He lifted her then cradled her to his chest. Castiel took a step back, trying to take in the whole picture.
“Look Missy, Daddy's man's here.” Dean's whole person was focused on the infant who was already quieting, in his arms. His smile grew when the child grabbed at one of his fingers, drawing the digit to its chest.
Castiel smiled and swallowed around the knot in his throat. “Her name is Missy?” he asked.
“Melissa.”
Castiel tilted his head. “I thought you wished to christen her with your mother's name.”
Dean shrugged. “We changed our minds.”
We. Castiel let that roll up and over him. Resolved, he straightened his shoulders and came closer. He'd learnt many months before Melissa was even a thought, to withstand the pain that came with Dean's life so fully intertwined with another. Charlie, his wife, partner (lover). Castiel liked to think he was almost numb to it now.
At least he liked to act so.
The infant- Melissa, had settled now, pressed in close to Dean's broad chest. The peace of the picture the two of them painted did nothing to dampen the searing through Castiel's chest that had blossomed the moment he had stood at the back of the Yorkshire church and watched Dean walk down the aisle, Charlotte Bradbury waiting for him at the other end.
“Perhaps you can name your next child Mary,” Castiel said. Melissa's hair was wispy, baby down soft, her eyebrows non-existent, lashes already long like her fathers. “If she is female.”
Dean looked up from his daughter then, Castiel kept his eyes on Melissa.
“I'm not having any more children Cas,” Dean said softly, though with an intensity that sent chills across Castiel's skin.
“I doubt that decision pleases your father.”
“It doesn't have to, I have one daughter, one heir.” Dean wiggled his finger in Melissa's grip, and used his thumb to stroke the curve of her cheek. “My duty is done.”
“But your father-”
“Is growing old in a changing world. Society’s changing Cas maybe by the time she’s of age, Melissa can inherit my title. If not, she can marry if she chooses to. The Winchester name, the title, estate? None of it means a bit to me- I'm only admitting now that it never has.”
He'd been looking at Castiel when he began speaking, but now his gaze had shifted down to Melissa, sleeping comfortably in his arms.
“I want to be happy, now in my time, and these last few months, despite meaning to be the best most confusing in my whole life have made me miserable, because I knew that every day I had hurt you, was hurting you. I drove you halfway across the goddamned world with my brother for godssake.”
Castiel was struggling, he couldn't convey the words he needed to, not in the way he wanted to. He touched Dean on the shoulder, his hand giving a firm grip. “You didn't drive me Dean, Sam asked me to go and I needed to. And I know that that hurt you. I hurt you- again and again and I don't mean to. I just couldn't be here, not after-”
Your wedding. Castiel thought, but kept that to himself.
“You never wanted me to get married I never wanted to get married, and I- we should have talked about it more, the three of us. That was Charlie’s problem with Glinda and it is my problem with you.” by the end of his words Dean's confidence had faded, he looked deflated. The reminder of Charlie's heartbreak was like a black cloud over all four of them, but none took it harder than Charlie.
“Is Charlotte...?”
“Recovered, an early labor is hard on a new mother,” Dean answered. His tone changed drastically when he addressed his daughter. “This little miss was just too eager to see the world.”
“She has your eyes,” Castiel said.
Dean smiled. “Yes.”
“Cas,” he said then, looking up with peridot green eyes. Fatherhood looked good on Dean, had given him a more even set to his shoulders, had crinkled his eyes in a pleasing manner in the corners, given him a soft shine. He stirred Castiel. Made him breathless.
Even with everything, the heartache, secrecy and pain, Castiel had no inkling -if Glinda had even felt for Charlie a tenth of what Castiel felt for Dean- how she could ever abandon her.
“Would you like to hold her?” Dean asked.
Castiel stared at him.
There was an air of nervous expectation between them, a reminder that during whatever brief moments they had alone together that Castiel was more than his valet. His friend.
He could tell Dean was waiting, just as nervous and uncertain as Castiel himself was as taking that step.
“I have no prior experience with infants.” said Castiel.
Dean rolled his eyes and as gently as one could, placed Melissa in Castiel's arms, adjusting Castiel like a puppet molding him into a carriage sutible for his daughter.
“Hold her for gods sake man.” he left Castiel with no other choice, but to take her, stepping backward to lean against her crib. “We both want you to.”
Whether he meant Charlie or Melissa herself Castiel had no clue.
Melissa was heavier than Castiel expected, but that was no comment upon her person. She was small, so very small and Castiel wondered if Dean was that small when he was a child. Already there were a few freckles appearing on her rosy cheeks, but she had Charlie's pale skin. Castiel held her, looked at her, and felt the last of the ice around his heart melt.
Dean's daughter was exquisite, a tiny work of art. Beautiful in a hundred different ways.
“Uhh- hello Miss Melissa.” Castiel said. He tore his eyes from the baby girl in his arms to fix Dean with a frown. “That sounds very awkward.”
“Well you don't have to go around calling her 'Miss' Cas.” Dean explained. “She's Melissa to you, or Honeybee- it's what her name means.” he said then, one hand sliding back around Castiel's waist, grounding him. He used his other hand to stroke her head. Melissa scrunched up her features in a way that could have been equally interpreted as irritation or joy and Dean shushed her gently.
“Because she's my little Honeybee.” he cooed.
“Melissa.” Castiel said gently, looking down at her.
“Melissa Honeybee Winchester,” Dean said and cast his sleeping daughter a wink. “But don't tell mummy. Gertrude's such a tasteless name.”
Castiel adjusted his hold a little, careful not to wake her. "She is rather small.”
“Yes.” Dean said, and rested against Castiel's back, almost holding him. They stood together the three of them in soft, peaceful silence, the nursery quiet, the house outside it, non-existent.
“You would make an excellent father,” said Dean softly.
Castiel swallowed. “Perhaps I will get the chance to one day, as you did.”
There was a beat of silence in which neither of them moved.
“Maybe,” Dean said, “but I hope- I hope that until you decide if that's what you want, that Missy here is enough for you.”
The unspoken 'that I am enough for you' burned Castiel's soul like a brand.
“She is enough Dean, she's-” Castiel turned his head, his breath brushing against Dean's cheek. They were so close, so close. “She's everything.”
Dean smiled first with his eyes and then with his mouth, pressing close along Castiel's side, to press his forehead against Castiel's temple. “She has her fathers charm then?”
Castiel hummed in answer.
“May I?” Dean asked, lips pressed feather light to Castiel's cheek, his temple then his hair.
Even given all their years together, Castiel's heart still beat faster, the world came to a standstill when Dean Winchester kissed him.
“You may.” he said and Dean turned Castiel's face toward with with two fingers to his chin.
They kissed, brushing then pressing lips, a hint of teeth pressed into the bottom curve of Castiel's lips. There was a whisper of heat there- there always was with Dean- a wetness. But it was slow, deep and reaffirming, bone achingly reaffirming filling Castiel up over his brim and making him shine.
After, Dean took Melissa from him and placed the sleeping lady into her crib. The affection in his eyes as he laid her down and tucked her in was more than Castiel knew what to do with.
As soon as Melissa was out of his arms Castiel's concentration shifted and he focused on Dean again.
“Cas,” Dean said, righting himself up from the crib. “You know I mean it.” he took Castiel's hand in his own and rubbed the knob of Castiel's wrist in circles.
Castiel was confused.
Dean continued. “I want you to do-I want you to choose whatever it is that you believe will make you happy. Take me and Missy entirely out of the equation.”
It dawned on Castiel then and he felt his heart sink. Carefully he extracted his wrist from Dean's grip. “You know.”
“Benny told me.”
“Benny?”
The edge of Dean's lower lip gave a valiant twitch. “He heard it from Anna do not blame her Cas,” he added quickly, knowing Castiel far too well, “she wants to break the cycle of secrecy in this house more than anyone.” Dean's half-smile slipped just a little before it shifted into something soft and gentle.
“You've got an offer.”
“I got an offer,” Castiel breathed. And all at once, his body eased. “I did my learning by correspondence, sat the exams whilst I was passing through London with Sam. There were some elements of the course in particular I excelled at, apparently and they offered me a position in a schoolhouse in Liverpool.”
“And they want you.” it wasn't a question.
“They do, Dean-” it was Castiel's turn to take a hand. He reached out and took one of Dean's in both his own. “Becoming a school teacher, is a new start for me. You said yourself the world is changing, large houses like these they are not the endless source of employment they used to be. The old ways are changing and no one knows what the new ways are.”
“You have a chance to get out of service.” Dean said.
Castiel nodded. Sometimes, when sleep eluded him, Castiel would lay awake at night and try to imagine what it would have been like if Dean were a servant too, or yet Castiel a lord. Would they have been able to have everything they wanted if Castiel had been born to royalty instead of the streets or Dean as his equal. He never failed to return to those thoughts, no matter how hard he tried to stop it- how different their lives together would be, if they had been born different people, or at a different time. The last few years in particular had been the most difficult Castiel had ever gone through and never more had he been plagued by such thoughts.
Castiel had hoped that, by taking some time away he would be able to push aside such feelings of entrapment, cast aside his hope for escape. He had hoped that after so many years such feelings would diminish.
But the more time he spent with Dean, and the more time he spent in service, his desire for a different life only seemed to grow.
Heat pulsed through him now, different from the sort Dean usually elicited. Castiel's heart dropped in time with his gaze. He stared at the buttons of Dean's suit, the middle one had a lose thread that Castiel would need to sew before bed.
“I'm not doing this to leave you,” Castiel said, his grip unconsciously tightened on Dean's hand. “I've left you so many times before. I'm not leaving you I'm just-”
“-Trying to carve your own path.” Dean said. His smiled turned uncertain before it slid away completely leaving Castiel nervous. He took a deep breath and without thinking stepped forward when Dean tugged him closer.
“Cas, you're too good a person, too intelligent a person, to spend the rest of your life serving wine and taking the coats of lords.”
“I can only hope these old ways fade sooner.” Dean's voice dropped to a whisper that slid along Castiel's spine. “So that the both of us can be together.”
“Dean-”
“You know how I feel about you,” Dean's words warmed Castiel from the inside out. Dean had said he loved Castiel in various ways over the years, in writing, with actions with words, but it never meant more to him than in this moment- right when he was seemingly, letting Castiel go.
“Go and hand in your notice Cas.”
Castiel's heart stuttered. He took a deep breath to steady himself, squeezing, squeezing because it hurt too much to hope- surely Dean couldn't mean that in the way Castiel was beginning to think he did.
Dean's eyes were shining, wet. Castiel'd heart broke and he wiped a tear off Dean's chin, taking the young lord into his arms. “Dean-”
“Just listen to me.” Dean interrupted him, pulling himself together with a sniff. His words trembled slightly and he licked his lips before going on. “Please Cas, just listen. Sometimes I know you better than you do, and now; I know how much you need this. How unhappy you are here and how, if I didn't say this to you now, you'd let those test results fade and that teaching opportunity go to another.”
Castiel's chest was pulling tight around his lungs making it hard to breath.
“I don't want you to waste your life here waiting for the small chances we get throughout the day to spend time together.” said Dean.
Castiel wanted to rebut him, that waiting till Sam could inherit, or now for Melissa too was the plan and who was Castiel to diverge from that, to diverge from the path to a life together, but Dean shushed him softly and went on.
“You need to do it now, and do it fast, take the teaching job, Cas, go to Liverpool and make something of yourself dammit.”
There was a fierceness in his eyes and in his hold that Castiel had no hope in breaking free from.
“I have to stay here, I have responsibilities now.” Dean took a step closer, bringing them almost chest to chest. He brought one hand to Castiel's cheek and rubbed the line of his jaw. He smiled weakly and bit at his lower lip. “I'm a father, and Sam he's got dreams of his own. Dreams outside of this, outside of here. I can't put this all on him. Like you said big houses like these are diminishing, perhaps it won't be so long before I'm no longer shackled here. But I can't have you chained up with me.”
Something was stinging behind Castiel's eyes and in his nose. His throat felt closed up. He took Dean's hand from his face and slid their hands together in a tight grip, not wanting to let go. “You don't have to take the weight of the world on your shoulders Dean.”
“Of course I do.” Dean said. He squeezed Castiel's hand. “So long as the reward after is worth it.”
“Dean-” Cas swallowed around the lump in his throat. He was aware he was crying and did so softly as not to wake Melissa. “Thank you.”
Dean drew him into a hold and kissed away his tears.
“I love you,” Castiel told him, holding onto him tight, arms under his, hands coming up to grip around his shoulders. He took a breath to steady himself and brought Dean's hand up to his lips to press a lingering kiss to his knuckles. “As much as one soul can love another, I love you.”
Melissa made a noise, a light gurgle. Dean's attention broke and his looked at her over his shoulder.
Castiel felt himself smiling, despite the growing ache in his chest. “And you and Miss Charlotte, you have the most beautiful daughter.”
“I need you to wait for me.” Dean said, and Castiel could tell by the cracking tremble in his voice, that it took all of Dean to say it. “I can do all this, can be patient and do my duty, be a husband and a father while you live your own life so long as I know that you're gonna be there at the end Cas. That I'm gonna get to kiss you and hold you and be with you after all this.”
He hesitated. But then he leaned in, and Castiel knew what was coming. With closed eyes, he allowed for Dean to kiss him, to press soft, tempered lips against Castiel's mouth.
This kiss wasn’t deep or rushed; it went on for several moments and then longer.
Castiel let the kiss surround him.
Eventually they pulled away, parting on a final kiss, long, slow and breathy. Dean was looking down, down at their intertwined hands.
“Dean,” Castiel said to him, “I may not be here but, of course I'll wait for you.” His whole body trembled and he took a deep breath to calm himself. Pain and love slide together behind Castiel's ribs. He tried to force his voice to remain steady, looking up into Dean's eyes.
“And I ask you now, not as my friend, not as my lover but for the final time, as my employer. Do you accept my resignation from my position in this household?”
Dean smiled a wet, shaking smile and kissed Castiel's cheek. “I do.”