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Chapter Text

Jack tipped his head, curious. "You do what to pumpkins?"

Claire snorted, and pulled out her phone, tapping away at the screen. They were in the bunker's kitchen, Claire attempting to teach Jack about Halloween. "You carve them. Like, with faces or words or whatever. Then you shove a candle in there and they glow at night when kids trick-or-treat."

At Jack's still deeply confused expression, Claire turned her phone around to show him various pictures of kids in costumes and carved pumpkins glowing in the dark and bags full of candy. Jack's eyes widen, delighted.

"Can we do that?" he asks, and the blonde's expression softens.

"You did kind of get the short end of the stick, popping out fully grown and missing the whole childhood thing," she says, tone thoughtful. "Alright. I have a plan."

The development Jody's house was in was full of families with kids, so Halloween night the streets are teaming with kids in costumes, clutching bags of candy with parents following along behind them.

After much debate, they'd settled on Dean's suggestion for costumes- with some minor tweaking.

The white dress hung over Jack's boots, the silver belt gleaming in the low light, and thanks to a temporary spell from Rowena, realistic looking space buns hung over his ears, clutching a C3P0 head-shaped candy bucket. Claire had on a white tunic and tan leggings, the plastic lightsaber hung from her belt, with an R2D2 candy bag in her hands.

"Okay- the Harrison's always give away full sized candy bars, so we wanna hit there first so we get the good ones," Claire says, pointing to a large blue house across the street. A thick braid hung down her back, swinging with her movements. "And the Clark's? They give out the best homemade fudge ever. Last year they had peanut butter marshmallow and birthday confetti."

"Wow. You're really good at this," Jack says, and Claire's cheeks grow pink at the praise. But she merely shrugged in response, tossing her hair back over her shoulder.

"I know a thing or two," she replies, and loops her arm through Jack's as they head off down the street. "Oh, and the Crain's have the best carved pumpkins display. Last year, they did each of Taylor Swift's album covers- it was insane. I wonder what they did this year."

They make their way slowly down the street, their bags filling with candy, until they stand before the largest house on the street, strung with dozens of Halloween decorations. The front steps were filled with glowing pumpkins, all carved with different Muppet characters- in the center, the Kermit and Miss Piggy pumpkins were carved to face each other, hands outstretched for the other.

"Wow," Jack whispers, and Claire nods, her own expression awed as they stood just before the gate. "That's pretty impressive."

"Is it weird that I kind of want to get the Animal one tattooed on my body?" Claire asks, and Jack snorts, amused, before he shook his head.

"If you were going to get any Muppet tattooed, it would be Animal," he replies, and Claire shoved at him playfully, laughing.

"Alright, wise guy. Let's pick up the pace- we've got lots of ground to cover before witching hour."

Chapter Text

"It wasn't supposed to rain!" Claire's face falls as she yanks the door open, confronted with an utter downpour outside. Rowena chuckles softly from behind her.

"Doesn't mean we can't still have a picnic, dear," she said, and closed the door with a flick of her fingers, then took Claire's hand in her own and guided her back down the stairs. She prompts Claire to sit at one of the tables, and then sets about clearing space before the fireplace so she can spread the quilt out, anchoring one corner with the overstuffed picnic basket. After a few quick incantations and a flick of her wrists, Rowena has suspended a dozen or so lit candles in the air and turned on the radio in the corner.

She settles on the blanket, and pats the spot next to her before she began to pull items out. Claire settles next to her, happily taking the flute of champagne Rowena offers.

They have an entire spread- finger sandwiches and fresh fruit and Claire's favorite truffle fries from a local restaurant. The blonde bit into one and gave a satisfied hum, eyes closing in pleasure.

"Mmm. I needed these," she said, picking up another one and taking a bite. Rowena's nose crinkled fondly as she sipped at her own champagne, plucking a strawberry from the bowl and nibbling on it.

"So," the witch says after a moment, tipping her head at Claire curiously. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Claire finishes chewing, chugs the rest of her champagne, and blows out a breath before she holds her empty glass out. "I'm gonna need a refill first."

Rowena snorts, but fills her glass to the brim, and lets Claire take another sip before looking at her pointedly. The blonde sighs heavily, and sets her drink aside to flop back against the blanket, staring up at the ceiling, eyes flicking between the various candles floating above her. Rowena's fingers card through Claire's hair, giving her time.

"I really liked her," is Claire's soft admission- Rowena's fingers don't stop their rhythm, and Claire shuffles until she can get her head properly in Rowena's lap. "And like- yeah, I know she was older than me and we weren't exactly 'future material'." She makes air quotes with her fingers around the words, and Rowena holds back her amused snort. "But…I liked how she made me feel."

Rowena's thumb strokes away the furrows between Claire's brows.

"There will be other girls," she reminds her, and Claire nods, shrugging.

"But I liked that girl," she complains, and Rowena's smile is soft. She taps the tip of Claire's nose.

"Unfortunately, a few frogs must be kissed before you find your prince. Or rather- princess, in your case," she says, and Claire's nose scrunches as she looked up at her.

"And you decided that Sam is your prince?" she asks, and Rowena digs her finger into her side, causing laughter to erupt from Claire as she squirmed away from the witch. "I'm just saying, Ro- you're hot. You could have anyone!"

"I'm quite happy with my choice, dove," Rowena laughs, expression overly fond, and pops a blueberry into her mouth. "And you will some day as well. Even if there are a few more frogs first."

Claire reaches up, lacing their fingers together above her hair and squeezing gently, smiling up at Rowena upside down. "Thanks, Rowena, for listening."

Rowena's smile grows, and she leans down to kiss Claire's forehead, tender warmth spilling through Claire's chest.

"Now come on- this champagne won't drink itself."

Chapter Text

The thing Rowena liked most about the house she and Sam had picked out was the large, sprawling front garden. Sam had given her free reign to do as she pleased, happy with whatever her choices were- so she had gone…a tad overboard at the hardware greenery department.

The front lawn is covered in various flowers, all waiting to be put into the ground, and Rowena was hard at work weeding the flowerbeds, straw hat shading her face and gloves already stained with dirt. She'd started as soon as the sun rose, for once rising before even Sam.

"Sam said you needed reinforcements," she looks up at Jack's voice, the blonde smiling down at her. "Where should I start?"

Rowena chuckles, sitting back on her knees and swiping a hand over her brow. "Well, dear- if you'd like to start weeding that bed over there, it'll get us a bit closer to being able to put the flowers in the ground."

Jack nods, moving to where she'd pointed and copying the motions she showed him to properly till the soil once the weeds were out. They work in companionable silence, and they've finished all the weeding by the time Sam steps onto the porch to check on them.

"How're the worker bees?" he asks, leaning on the porch railing and grinning down at them. Rowena stuck her tongue out at him before returning to packing the soil carefully around a transplanted pink peony.

"It's made much easier by two hands," she replies, and sends Jack a wink- the nephilium flushes happily, beaming back at her. "I do hope you've prepared lunch, Samuel, given all the slaving we've been doing."

"I've got sandwiches and pasta salad whenever you guys are ready for a break," Sam replies, expression fond. "And lemonade."

"The pink kind?" Jack asks hopefully, and Sam chuckles, nodding.

"C'mon. You guys need a break from the sun," he says, and jerks his head to the door. "Shoes off, though. No dirt on the floors, please."

Rowena rolls her eyes, expression deeply affectionate as she looked up at Sam. "Yes, my love."

She stands, brushing dirt from her knees, and wraps her arm around Jack's shoulders as they trudge up the steps to toe out of their dirty shoes, leaving their gardening gloves beside them.

"You know, I didn't know you liked to garden, Rowena," Jack said after they'd washed their hands and sat at the breakfast bar, Sam putting plates in front of them full of food. Rowena picked up a triangle of sandwich, taking a bite and chewing before she answered.

"I like how it feels- growing something with your hands," she finally said, shrugging a shoulder. "It taught me patience, having to wait for things to bloom. That sometimes, instant gratification isn't the only answer. I don't mind getting a bit of dirt on me if it means something beautiful can grow from it."

Her eyes catch Sam's then, and her face goes soft, all sunlit warmth. She looks back at Jack, who watched them with a smile of his own.

"Eat up," Sam finally says, nudging Rowena's plate closer before he poured her a glass of pink lemonade. Her nose wrinkled, but she picked up another sandwich triangle and took a bite to appease him. Jack happily munched on his own sandwich, feet dangling happily from the stool as Sam finished the dishes in the sink, flicking the radio on to an oldies station.

Rowena kissed Sam's cheek as she slid her plate into the sink, humming when he turned his face to catch her mouth, smiling against his lips before she slipped away, heading back to the porch where Jack was already tugging his shoes back on.

"We'll give you a green thumb yet," she says, and Jack tipped his head, confused. Rowena tapped his cheek, chuckling. "Come, love. There's work to be done."

Chapter Text

Jack trails behind Dean, who walked with purpose down one of the gaps between the apple trees, a destination seemingly in mind.

"Alright- so different apples should be used for different things," Dean explains when he finally stops in front of a grove of trees, branches full of shiny, ripe apples. Jack nods, listening intently. "For a pie, you want a combo of tart and sweet. It adds depth to the flavor profile beyond just the spices. So we're gonna get some Granny Smith's- that's the green ones over there- and we're gonna grab some Honeycrisp."

"Who names apples?" Jack asks, brows furrowing as he looked up at the dangling red fruit. Dean frowned, lips parting.

"Uh- well, kid, I'm gonna be honest. I got no idea," he confesses, and Jack just nods thoughtfully. "When you're pickin' them off the tree, try to only keep the ones that twist off pretty easy."

He reaches out, demonstrating his meaning when he picks an apple that's firm in his grasp and twists easily from the branch it hung from. Jack nods, feeling over a few different apples before he plucks one, offering it to Dean for confirmation. Dean nods at the firmness, offering Jack a smile.

"Good pick, kid. Let's fill this bag up, since we can use it for the pie and for some apple butter."

"Cas likes apple butter," Jack says, putting another apple into his bag, and Dean's mouth twitches up in the corner, expression affectionate.

"He sure does," Dean agrees, tossing a few more apples into the bag slung over Jack's arm. "We'll grab some Pink Ladies too, since they're good for apple jam."

Jack's eyes widen curiously.

"Apple jam sounds good," he says, and Dean nods as they head toward the Granny Smith grove to fill up another bag.

By the time they go to check out, they have four full bags, having picked up some Empire apples as well along the way. Dean pays, then after they've dropped the full bags off at the car, brings Jack over to the Snack Shack.

"Two cider donuts, two hot ciders, a funnel cake, and an apple fritter, please," he orders, and when the girl behind the counter gives him his change, he dumps it into the tip jar while he waits. He heads back to the table where Jack waited, plopping the tray down between them.

Jack picked up the cinnamon sugar-encrusted donut and took a bite, humming happily and tugging a smile onto Dean's mouth as he watched. He sips at his cider, warming his hands against the autumn chill. It's been a long string of cases, and Dean had taken Jack to the apple orchard to get out of the bunker for some fresh air.

They split the fritter, and Jack ends up eating most of the funnel cake as Dean watches, amused by the ring of sugar around Jack's mouth. When their ciders are finally empty, they toss their trash and head back to the car. Dean tosses Jack the keys, the nephilium blinking in surprise when he catches them.

"You're letting me drive?" he asks, and Dean shrugs- smiles as he opens the passenger side door.

"That apple fritter has me feelin' generous," he answers, and slides into the car. "I'm still pickin' the music, though."

Chapter Text

"Hey, Jack," Sam greets when the nephilium enters the library, brows furrowed as he bent to look under each of the tables. "Can I help you find something?"

Jack sighs, scrubbing a thumb between his eyebrows.

"I, uh- I can't find Beatrice," he says, and Sam blinks. "I think I lost her.

"You don't mean Beatrice your snake, right?" he asks, and when Jack shrugs sheepishly, Sam's eyes close, his face dropping into his hands briefly before he took a breath. "Is she not in her enclosure?"

"The, um…the top was off when I got back from my walk," he answers, and peers into one of the alcoves. "I need to find her before Dean gets back, he said if she got loose one more time he was going to make boots out of her."

Sam snorts, shaking his head, and pushes his chair back from the library table and begins searching the library stacks with Jack. Finally, Jack makes a triumphant noise.

"Found her!" he calls, kneeling before the fireplace and sifting through the ash from the fire that had been lit the previous night. The small corn snake wrapped itself around Jack's left hand once he lifted her up, flakes of ash falling from her scales to the stones below. Jack petted his thumb over her head, cooing, and Sam watched, amused.

"Get a better rock for the top of her enclosure," he says gently, squeezing Jack's shoulder as he headed towards the kitchen. "Or next time, Dean really will turn Beatrice into a pair of boots."

Chapter Text

"You're doing it wrong."

"I am not!"

"Then why isn't it working?"

"Because I just started!"

"If you two don't cut it out, I'm taking all this shit and bringing it inside," Jody interrupts Claire and Alex, giving them a knowing look as she sets the tray loaded with s'mores supplies onto the nearby table. She takes the lighter from Claire's hand and sets it aside. "And also that is not how you build a fire."

Claire pouts, folding her arms, and Jody rolls her eyes affectionately.

"C'mon. I'll show you the right way to do it. It's a good thing to know- hey, Patience! Get over here so I can show you all!"

Patience looks up from where she's got her nose in a book, shutting it quietly and coming to perch on the edge of Alex's chair- Alex rolls her eyes, and simply tugs Patience into her lap, the other girl ending up sitting on Alex's thigh, cheeks darkening with a flush once she'd righted herself.

"Alright- we're gonna take these log halves and make a kind of tripod," Jody explains, demonstrating by getting three of the logs into a triangular formation, with space underneath. "Then for kindling, we have the newspaper- we're gonna crumple it up and stuff a bit inside, for the fire to feed on."

Claire balls up a few pieces of newspaper, stuffing them inside as Jody instructed. Jody nods in approval, and then picks up the abandoned lighter. She flicks it on, and lights another piece of newspaper, letting it catch for a moment before she shoved it in with the other bits of dry paper.

"It'll smoke at first- once it catches that'll die down, and we can feed a bit more kindling in to increase the heat," she continues, the three girls watching intently as the fire began to grow.

By the time Donna gets outside, having changed out of her uniform and into jeans and one of Jody's flannels, the fire was crackling happily, beginning to burn the support logs. Claire and Alex were deep in discussion on the latest episode of LOST they'd all watched the other night, and Patience was quietly braiding Alex's hair, still perched in her lap.

"Hey," she greets, smiling, and Jody's face lights up at the sight of her.

"Hey! How was shift?" she asks, and Donna shrugs, bending to kiss her before she sank into the chair beside her, accepting the beer Jody cracked open and passed her.

"Long. I'm glad my stretch is over- I need a day off," she replies, putting the bottle of her lips and sighing happily as she took a sip. "And I could really use a s'more."

"Burnt?" Claire asks, spearing two marshmallows onto a stick, and Donna nods, winking at the blonde.

"You got it, babe," she says, and Claire beams. "And I'm feeling adventurous. Use one of the Reese's peanut butter cups instead of plain chocolate bar."

Claire salutes her before she focuses on browning the outside of the marshmallow before she shoved it into the fire to catch alight so it could be properly burnt for Donna's s'more.

Jody watches, fondness heavy in her chest, and blinks when Donna's fingers twine with hers, squeezing gently. She smiles over at the blonde, squeezing back, and lifts their joined hands to her lips, kissing the back of Donna's.

"You two are so cheesy," Alex teases, but her voice is full of affection. "Claire will you make me a s'more after Donna's?"

"Yeah- you want it brown, or just melty?"

"Melty, please," Alex replies, and Claire nods, tongue poking out as she concentrated on assembling Donna's s'more. She licks her fingers as she brings it to Donna, who accepts it happily, chocolate smearing around her mouth after her first bite. Jody laughs, licking her thumb and wiping some of the chocolate away from her cheek, then gives up when it ends up fruitless.

"You're gonna need a wipe," she says, and Donna's nose wrinkles.

"I'll need at least one more s'more first."

Chapter Text

Sam wakes to warm, familiar hands on his cheeks and soft kisses pressed to his brow.

"Surprise," is Rowena's soft murmur when he blinks his eyes open to find her beside him, a smile blossoming across his face at the sight of her.

"You're home early," he whispers, trying to blink the sleep from his eyes so he can see her properly. Rowena's thumbs brush gently over his cheeks.

"Things ended earlier than expected," she replies softly, and leans in to kiss his mouth tenderly. "I took the first flight home."

"'S time-" Sam yawns, interrupting his words, and Rowena's hands slide to cup his neck.

"Not even sunrise yet, my love," she reassures him, and Sam's eyes blink slowly, struggling to remain open. Rowena makes a soft noise of amusement, and she rubs his chest. "Sleep. I'll be here when you wake."

Sam tries to protest- she'd been gone nearly six weeks, part of a witches' conclave over territory disputes, and he'd missed her terribly. Their bed never felt quite right without her in it with him, so he'd thrown himself into whatever case Dean handed him, traveling all over the Midwest. Claire had joined him for a few, and he'd met up with Eileen to take down a nest of vamps in Missouri, but he'd been unable to outrun the loneliness. But Rowena soothes him softly, planting kisses along his brow bone before she finds his mouth once more, soft and sweet.

"Sleep, Samuel. I'm home now."

It's a reassurance and a promise, and Sam finally relaxes, though he keeps his hands on her as sleep tugs at him once more, his eyes closing as Rowena settles against him, riotous curls brushing his nose as she snuggled beneath his chin. Her heartbeat guides him back to his dreams, finally calm and warm after weeks of dreary nightmares.

Chapter Text

The elementary school's Harvest Fest was teeming with kids and parents alike- Dean's got one eye on Claire, getting her face painted like a tiger, and the other on Emma, peering into the fishbowls lining one of the stalls, checking on each of the goldfish swimming around inside. He's texting with Sam, firming up their plans for the girls to spend the weekend at his place while Dean works a string of doubles at the hospital- the twins loved spending time at their uncle's, though Dean suspected it had more to do with his little brother's new girlfriend than Sam himself.

He swipes away a text notification from his father, and clicks on a new message from Charlie instead.

Tell Claire I found her softball mitt in my backseat

Dean rolls his eyes, looking over at Claire- her feet swung happily as she perched in the chair, hands slid under her thighs and taking animatedly with the teenage girl painting her face. He sends Charlie back a text that he'd grab it from her next time their shifts overlapped, and slides his phone into his back pocket. Emma returns to his side, fingers slipping into his as she looked up at him.

"Daddy, will you win me a fish?" she asks, and Dean chuckles, brushing some hair back from his daughter's face.

"Do you think you and your sister could keep a goldfish alive?" he asks in return, arching an eyebrow, and Emma nods fervently. "Alright, kid. Let's see what I can do."

Keeping Claire in his eye line, Dean hands a couple of bills to the kid working the fish game, and manages to win two goldfish on his first try. The bored-looking kid hands him two pre-bagged goldfish, and Emma's eyes are wide with delight when she takes one from him cautiously, peering at the golden fish inside.

"I'm going to name her Athena. After the Greek goddess," she explains, and Dean lifts an eyebrow.

"How do you know who Athena is?" he asks, and Emma rolls her eyes.

"Daddy, she is my favorite in Percy Jackson," she reminds him, and Dean holds his hands up in surrender, amusement in his expression. "Can we bring Claire her fish?"

Dean nods, and they head over to where Claire is recieving the final touches to her face paint.

"Whoa, who turned my kid into a cat?" he asks, grinning, and Claire beams up at him.

"I'm a tiger, Daddy!" she exclaims, squirming happily until Dean helps her down from the bench. Emma thrust the bag with her fish in Claire's face.

"Daddy won us fish!" she says, and Claire gasps excitedly, taking the bag Dean offers her.

"I'm going to name her Annie. Like from the Magic Tree House," she says, and Dean softens in fondness. Emma pokes her sister excitedly.

"Mine is Athena!" she says, and the twins chatter happily as they exit the face painting booth and head into the stream of movement through the fair. Claire points at the purple cloaked tent.

"Can we get our fortunes read? Pretty please?" she asks, and her tiger-stripped face is so earnest Dean finds himself wavering.

"Yeah, sure," he finally relents, and Claire and Emma cheer before linking their hands and heading for the tent labeled Madam Lark's Fortunes.

It's dark inside, the scent of incense strong, and Dean muffles his cough as he settles between his daughters on the bench on one side of a small, square table. The woman on the other side is adorned in gaudy jewelry and a red silk headscarf, eyes shimmering with glitter and lips painted purple. Claire and Emma are entranced, and Dean hides his skepticism.

"You first, Daddy," Emma tugs on his sleeve, and when Claire nods, he sighs and extends his hand.

"You need to like, read my palm or something?" he asks, and Madam Lark leans closer, studying him, before she nods. Her fingers are cool when they press to Dean's hand, the tips of them tracing different lines on his palm, and she studies the whirls of his fingertips for long moments before she speaks.

"C," she says, and Dean frowns.

"Excuse me?"

"Someone whose name starts with a C- they will become very important to you very soon," she elaborates, and Dean blinks. "And…J. Someone with a J name is- entangled, somehow."

She traces one particular line on his palm, cutting across the length of it.

"You have held affection for many before- but this will be different. Feel different," she continues, and something funny happens in Dean's chest. "But you must be open to the change."

Claire snorts.

"Daddy is not good at change," she says primly. "My Uncle Sam says so."

"Alright, kid, let's not air family business to the psychic," Dean says, and pulls his hand away. He tosses a few bills on the table. "Uh…thanks. I guess. C'mon kiddos. Funnel cake is callin' our names."

Dean leaves the tent, mulling over the words, when Claire makes an excited noise.

"Daddy! Jack is here!" she points towards a blonde haired boy Dean recognized from the girls' soccer practices. "Can we go say hi? Please?"

"Sure, Clairebear," he says, and lets the girls lead the way over to where Jack was being handed a caramel apple by a tall, dark haired man. The girls chatter excitedly with Jack, who looks thrilled to see them, and Dean sticks a hand out.

"Dean Winchester. I think your son is on my girls' soccer team," he says, and the man blinks- nods, and shakes Dean's hand firmly.

"Castiel," he answers, and Dean's mouth goes dry. "Jack speaks highly of your daughters."

C. J. The psychic's words rattle against his rib cage, and Dean has to swallow hard to maintain an air of normalcy. It was all a hoax anyway. There was no truth to the old woman's words.

Right?

Chapter Text

The rain is a steady, soothing drone as Rowena counted her stitches, needles in hand and glasses perched on the end of her nose. Dean had picked Sam up early that morning to go help Jody with a case that was stumping her, so Rowena was home alone- she'd settled in the screened in porch, enjoying the cool of the rain as she worked on her crochet project.

She looks up at the sound of footsteps- it was far too early for Sam to be home, and when she'd last checked Claire's location she'd been in California, so there was no way it was her. Delighted surprise fills her at the sight of the angel.

"Hello, Castiel," she greets, smiling as he steps through the open sliding glass door into the room. He nods, a small smile of his own gracing his face. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I was…bored," he admits, and Rowena swallows her chuckle. "I find it hard to relax when Dean is out."

Her nose crinkles fondly as he settles in the chair across from her.

"Truth be told, I feel the same when Samuel is away," she confesses, setting the yarn down in her lap. "Nearly three hundred years alone, and now I get lonely when I have to spend too many days alone in our bed."

Castiel's chuckle is soft and low as he nods. He inclines his head towards the yarn. "What are you working on?"

"Oh, a baby blanket for Eileen. I fear the child will be walking before it's finished," Rowena answers, looking down at the mess of green and blue yarn in her lap. "It gives me something to do with my hands, though."

She pushes the glasses from the bridge of her nose to the top of her head, rubbing at the spots where they'd dug in. "Shall I make tea? It's gotten rather chilly."

Castiel nods, and once she'd carefully put her project away, she leads him into the kitchen, forcing him into a seat while she prepared their tea. They chat while the kettle boils, and when thunder booms, Rowena blinked at the downpour happening outside.

"I think the porch may be rather unsuited for tea," she says, and then shrugs. "Oh well. I guess it's finally time to watch the new Aurora Teagarden episode on Hallmark."

"Aurora Teagarden?" Castiel asks, arching an eyebrow, and Rowena nodded as she brought the tea tray to the living room.

"It's about a librarian who solves mysteries. I believe Samuel described it as 'cozy'," she explains as they settle on the couch, Rowena flicking the television on. "Perfect for a rainy day."

She presses Castiel's mug into his hand, made with extra honey and a splash of milk, before she curls her fingers around her own mug and presses play on the television. They sit together, quiet as the show starts- Castiel looks over, smiling faintly.

"Thank you," he says, and Rowena just winks, sipping at her tea as the theme song started.

Chapter Text

Rowena digs into one of the kitchen drawers, making a triumphant noise when she unearthed a lighter. "I knew I had one in here somewhere."

She brings it over to where Sam is still stacking candles- Fiona is snug in her sling against his chest, and through the entryway into the living room she can see Blair snuggled close to Ainsley, the two of them clutching their stuffed animals. Power was out on the entire block, an electricity line downed somewhere further up the road, so they'd unearthed every spare candle they owned, bringing them to the living room to brighten the evening dusk.

"Come, my darlings," Rowena said, stretching out her hands. Ainsley got up first, helping her sister to her feet, and they crowd close to Rowena once they're at her side. Rowena bends, kissing the tops of their heads before she wraps her arms around their shoulders. "How about a story?"

Ainsley nods fervently as her eyes blow wide, and they head to where Sam has gotten a nice glow going, candles casting shadows on the walls. Fiona makes a faint noise of protest when Sam pulls the sling back to check on her- he just smiles, brushing a kiss to her forehead and getting her settled once more as he leans back against the couch. Ainsley snuggles in close to his side, but Blair plops herself right in Rowena's lap, snuggling up beneath her mother's chin.

"Are you gonna tell us about Scottish land, Mama?" Ainsley asks, and Rowena's nose wrinkles fondly.

"Scotland," she corrects gently, and traces the slope of Blair's nose, pulling a sleepy giggle from her middle daughter. "And if that's what you'd like, I can tell you a bit about it."

Ainsley nods- her head rests against Sam's bicep, her eyes on Rowena but eyelids beginning to droop. Rowena's eyes meet Sam's, soft and warm, and she winks before she settles Blair more comfortably against her.

"A long, long time ago," she starts, and Blair's fingers curl in the ends of her hair, eyes closing as she listened. "My father owned a tannery in a little town in the Scottish highlands."

"What is a tannery?" Ainsley asks, brow furrowing.

"They make leather- like those cowgirl boots you love so much," Rowena answers, and interest sparks in her eldest daughter's eyes. Dean had gotten her a pair of cowgirl boots for her birthday a few months prior, and they were Ainsley's favorite thing- she wore them with every outfit possible. "I helped run the shop, when I wasn't watching my brother and sisters."

Ainsley's face lights up. "You're a sister? Like me?"

Rowena's face softens, and she nods- something soft and wistful in her expression as she remembered a lifetime ago. "I was a big sister, yes, my love. But you're a far better one than I am."

That causes Ainsley to frown, little mouth turned down deep in the corners.

"But you're the best mommy."

That has Rowena clearing her throat, blinking back the tears that blur her vision- she beckons Ainsley over, and hauls her daughter up into her lap beside Blair, nuzzling in close as Ainsley cuddled into her happily. She rests her head against Ainsley's, meeting Sam's gaze- her lover is rubbing Fiona's back, looking at the three of them with the softest expression she's ever seen, and warmth spills through her chest.

"Thank you," she whispers- it's partially to Ainsley, but it's also to Sam. For the girls in her arms- for the baby nestled against his chest. For the life she'd created, all because of him. Sam just winks, face golden in the candlelight.

Chapter Text

Claire rolls onto her back, staring up at the top of the makeshift blanket fort she and Jack had constructed. It was late- the rest of the bunker was asleep, but they'd been finishing a Saw marathon and discussing which traps they thought they could survive. Jack lays shoulder to shoulder with her, the two of them staring at the swirling rainbow fabric of the blanket.

"Has Kaia called?" he asks, quiet, and Claire blows out a breath as she shakes her head.

"No. And she's screening my calls," she replies, unable to keep the frown out of her voice. But then she shook herself, and rolled up onto her elbow. "Wanna be my wingman?"

Jack's brows furrow. "Right now? It's like, midnight."

"So? That's like, nine pm in bar time," Claire replies, and pokes at him. "C'mooon, don't make me dress all slutty by myself."

"Is slutty like, the dress code? Or can I wear a t-shirt," Jack asks, and Claire snorts.

"Only if you wear the jean jacket we got last time we went thrifting. It compliments your eyes," she says, and Jack beams at her. "So? Are you coming?"

"Fine. But only if we go to that diner again before we come home. I want cheese fries," Jack says, and Claire salutes him. "And leave a note. Dean likes to know where we are."

Claire rolls her eyes, but it's fond.

"I know. He's such a dad."

Chapter Text

The sun is just beginning to poke its head above the horizon when Rowena senses his presence.

Fiona had been fussy since midnight- Rowena had tried rocking her, pacing with her, singing her old nursery rhymes that had always calmed Ainsley and Blair. But her daughter was cutting a new tooth, perfectly miserable no matter what Rowena tried. To allow Sam and the girls at least a bit of sleep, she'd brought Fiona out to the back deck to nurse, and the quiet sounds of cicadas chirping had somehow lulled Fiona to sleep.

The baby was snuggled against her chest, breath warm on her skin as Rowena watched the sunrise turn the horizon a blend of pink and orange. She runs her hand over Fiona's back, keeping her gaze on the sky as the presence moves closer- settles in the chair beside her, and clears his throat.

"You're up early," Crowley comments quietly, and Rowena hummed, soothing Fiona when she shifted, making a noise.

"Late, actually," she corrects, fingers stroking gently over Fiona's downy soft hair, the baby sighing happily against her. "Wee lass is cutting a new tooth, didn't settle until we were outside."

She tips her head to look at Crowley- her son was impeccably dressed as always in a tailored three piece suit, purple triangle at his breast pocket and matching tie. He looks tired, though- had looked it since he'd returned from the Empty months ago. Their relationship had irrevocably changed the moment he returned and laid eyes on her children with Sam- taken in the way she'd positioned Ainsley and Blair behind her body, Fiona pressed tight to her chest, her other arm hovering protectively around her young daughters.

Motherhood was different for her now. Sam had been with her every step of the way, and he was the most dotting, wonderful father to their girls. There were tough days, there always would be- but they were partners along with parents, and their family was her greatest joy. She knew her son was bitter, seeing her so readily loving to these new children when he'd never been loved by her. And she did regret the choices she'd made in her youth- did as much as she could not to repeat them with her new life- but she couldn't change the past.

"Why are you here, Fergus?" she asks, voice soft as Fiona makes a soft, sleepy snuffling noise against her neck before giving a long, sighing exhale and settling once more. "You've made it rather clear how you feel about my new life."

Her son is silent, face thoughtful as he regarded her. She knew she looked a mess- she hadn't slept, her hair hadn't been washed in days, tied up in a messy knot on the top of her head, and she's fairly certain she's in the same clothes she'd put on two days prior. Fiona was covering a stain on the front of her shirt- one she'd stolen from Sam late in her pregnancy with Ainsley and simply never returned- and she's in a pair of soft flannel pajama pants that Sam had gotten her for Mother's Day a few years ago. The long gowns of days past rarely made appearances in her wardrobe these days, more inclined to shirts that unbuttoned for ease of access to feed Fiona and pants she didn't mind getting dirty when playing with Ainsley and Blair.

She was different- had done the work to be a better version of herself for her daughters, and was content with how she'd turned out. She was still vain, and she still liked expensive things, and she would always struggle with her craving for power, even now. But then she remembered the way Ainsley's brow furrowed when she concentrated, just like Sam's. Or how Blair needed to be read Goodnight, Moon twice in order to sleep. Or that Fiona's favorite position to sleep in was curled into the tightest ball possible, just like how she'd been curled within Rowena's womb.

"You'll have to forgive my jealousy," Crowley finally answers, and Rowena frowned. The sky is awash in pastels, the world waking up, and her internal clock knew Sam would be rising soon for his morning run through the neighborhood. "I know it's far from their fault, but those girls are getting everything I ever wanted from you. Imagine my surprise when I'm pulled from eternal darkness to find you've been domesticated."

There's bite to his words, but Rowena doesn't take the bait.

"I had children with the man I love," she replies, and shifts some of Fiona's dead weight so she can cradle the baby's head in her left arm, Fiona merely sighing as she was repositioned from Rowena's chest. "And despite whatever you may think of me, I've had to fight to become their mother. And it is only because of Sam that I ever even considered this life- that I have found even a modicum of happiness. I love him. I love our girls. I love the life we've built together. And I would love for you to be a part of it as well. To show you how I've changed- how I've grown from the woman who thought that love was weakness."

She looks down at Fiona's peaceful, sleeping face, tracing the tip of her finger down the slope of the baby's nose. The corner of her mouth tugs upwards into a faint smile, and it remains as she lifts her gaze back to Crowley's.

"But this only works if we both put the effort in. I will not sacrifice the life I have created," she tells him, mouth setting into a firm line. There's a soft noise from within the house, and a moment later the sliding glass door leading into the house opens, Sam poking his head out.

"Hey," he greets softly, and Rowena's smile is small but warm as she looks up at her lover. "You never came back to bed."

"It took a bit for the baby orajel to kick in. She only settled a little while ago," she tells him, and Sam steps onto the back deck, squatting beside Rowena's seat and cupping Fiona's head as he bent to kiss Rowena.

"Want me to take her?" he asks, but Rowena shook her head.

"Go for your run. I'm going to see if I can settle her in the nursery before I sleep a bit. The girls won't be up for a few hours yet."

"I'll occupy them so you can get some rest," Sam tells her, and Rowena smiles against the soft kiss he presses to her mouth. He straightens, and nods a little stiffly at Crowley. "Crowley."

"Moose," Crowley replies, mirroring his nod, and Sam touches Rowena's cheek once more before he heads back inside to finish getting ready for his run. Rowena stretched, shifting Fiona up onto her shoulder before she stood, shaking out some of the numbness in her legs. "I can't promise to be perfect. But…I'll try."

Rowena blinks, turning to look at her son- the sunrise was more orange than pink now, his silhouette backlit against the creamsicle sky, and she studies him for a moment before she nodded.

"We both will," she replies, and offers a small, genuine smile. "I'm going to lay her down. If you'd like to come back later, perhaps we can properly introduce the girls to you."

Crowley nods.

"I'd…like that," he says, and stands as well, brushing invisible lint from his suit. Rowena opens the door to head inside, but pauses when Crowley speaks again. "Do they know? Who I am?"

Rowena shakes her head, a little regretful, and shrugs.

"It's hard to explain when they're so young," she apologizes. "Eventually, when they were older and knew a bit more about the world they're growing up in, I would have told them everything."

Crowley nods again, but his expression is understanding.

"Thank you, Mother. I'll…see you later?" he asks, and Rowena nods, smiling faintly.

"I look forward to it," she replies, and as she gripped the door once more, opening it to step inside, she knew he'd gone. But she looked back out at the sunrise, all it's pretty colors, and found it fitting for a new beginning.