Shout out to Cameron Blacks Reads, The Communist Unicorn, and Eyum daRelmera!

I did it! Just barely in my time zone, but I did it! Got this thing posted in 2019!

Happy New Year my pretties!

Enjoy!

"You boys drive safe, you hear?"

Dean slammed Baby's trunk, dusting the melted frost off his hands. "Relax, Mom. We'll be fine."

"You know it'd be easier if you didn't insist on driving," Sam pointed out, eyes twinkling.

"Please don't start," Castiel sighed. "You won't be stuck in the car with him for the rest of the day."

Unlike them, Sam and Gabriel had a much shorter drive ahead of them, only a few hours. Accordingly, they didn't feel the need to leave quite so early. But since it was a six-hour drive to Sioux Falls, back up through Nebraska, Dean liked to get a jump on the traffic.

"Want some whisky for the road?" Mary was asking sympathetically.

"I ain't that bad, am I?" Dean protested.

"So long as you're kept fed, no."

Castiel and Mary shared a smile at Dean's miffed expression, folding his arms in a huffy gesture, before she crossed the icy driveway to hug her son-in-law. By the time she got to Dean he'd dropped the offended posture to hug her back. Castiel was turning back, expecting to get an embrace from Gabriel, only to see Jo shuffling out of the house at a rapid pace. She scooted across the driveway, got in range of him, then jumped the last few steps to throw her arms around his neck. He grunted on impact, but wrapped his arms around her waist.

When she seemed satisfied with this, Jo released him and shuffled over to Dean in turn. He cracked a grin at his shivering sister, swinging her around a bit before dropping her back down to her feet. "Cold, Jo?"

"I'm freezing my ass off. Merry Christmas. Love you guys."

With that she scurried back into the warmth of the house. Castiel shook his head, smiling. Jo, as she put it, did not do 'cold', and she'd come home for winter break to find snow all over the ground. Honestly he was surprised she'd come out to say goodbye. It would probably be a month or two before they saw her again. Not for the first time he marveled at the idea of missing Dean's sister more than most of his own brothers.

"You got all the leftovers you wanted, right?" Mary confirmed as Dean threw an arm around his own brother's neck.

"Yes. We have more than enough," Castiel promised. "You're sure you're alright with us taking that much Tupperware?"

"It's fine," she laughed. "Just get it back."

Eventually they did make it into the Impala, and Dean began the process of getting them onto the road. Castiel waved as they pulled away, then jammed his hands into his armpits, hunching over for warmth. The heater was blasting, the Legos still stuck in it rattling away, but it needed time.

"Give it a second, Cas. How is it you're the one who grew up in Illinois, but you're the one that's cold?"

"It's hardly by choice, I assure you."

Dean stuck a hand in front of the vents. "It's getting there. I think Mom threw some hot cocoa in the snack cooler."

"She did?" Twisting, Castiel peered into the soft sided cooler that held their snacks, right next to the green cooler of iced beverages. Sure enough, wedged between Dean's jerky and his trail mix were two paper travel cups with plastic lids. "When did she make this?"

"While we were loading up, I think."

Castiel hummed, carefully extracting the two cups as they headed out of town. He passed one to Dean, then cupped the other in both hands. It was still a little too hot to drink, but the warmth alone was decidedly pleasant. Better still, Mary made her hot coca with milk on a stove, and a dash of actual coca. While he was normally partial to coffee, the season called for something a little more special.

Since Christmas fell on a Wednesday this year, they'd decided to drive over to Mary's on Saturday. That is until Dean decided he didn't want to risk traffic, and see if it was any better at night. Castiel had slept through half the trip, but Dean swore up and down it was much easier. Despite Friday night traffic trumping Saturday morning traffic, Castiel insisted they drive home during the day, if only because they wouldn't be able to record at night. There wasn't enough light without impairing Dean's ability to drive. Mary also hadn't liked them driving at night on tricky roads. Between the two of them they were able to talk Dean out of another overnight trip.

The one downside of this was that they were driving back Monday, which meant they had to leave a little earlier in an attempt to beat any rush-hour traffic. Castiel might be off from school, and Dean might not have anymore shifts until after Christmas, but not everyone was so fortunate. Even Gabriel would be opening shop on Christmas Eve. Apparently a lot of people liked to get treats for Christmas morning breakfast, or last-minute sweets for stocking stuffers. That wasn't counting the kids who absolutely insisted that the very best cookies in town be left out for Santa. Castiel might not have believed that last one, but Sam swore to have born witness to it.

About an hour after they'd left Mary's, when the hot coca was finished and the barrage of less-than-quality Christmas songs on the radio were beginning to annoy Dean, Castiel cleared his throat. "Would you like to do a few questions now?"

"Might as well," Dean sighed, turning off the radio. "Seriously, how many ways can you do 'Frosty the Snowman'?"

"I'm not sure. They do seem persistent," Castiel said absently, getting out the camera. He got it turned on and set up on the dash mount, making sure everything was in place, then scooted over until he was in the frame. Slipping the list from his bag, he set it in his lap and asked, "Ready?"

"Ready when you are."

Reaching up, he hit the record button and sat back again, trying to remember to look at the camera and not his husband. When they weren't in conversation apparently that was appropriate. It helped that they were in a car. Honestly, he'd thought this whole recording while driving business would be a one-time-thing, but it was functional for their purposes, and they'd gotten enough of a positive response that Dean had chosen to do it this way again.

"What's up world? Your friendly neighborhood Batman is back with your favorite Q&A, this time with a Christmas Special. Or holiday special. I know not everyone celebrates Christmas, but we do, so that's what we're going with."

"The timing is more appropriate for Christmas," Castiel pointed out. "We're too late for Honokaa or St. Lucia Day, and too early for Kwanza or Las Posadas."

Dean shot him a confused look. "Remind me, what is Las Posadas again?"

"It's how they celebrate in Mexico, remember? Well, Latin America. Where they do a nativity reenactment for nine days, one for each month of the pregnancy, among other things. You liked the starshaped cookies."

"Right, got it. I keep forgetting it has a name."

"You tend to get the traditions that leave out shoes mixed up," Castiel agreed. "It is a popular tradition."

"I'll take your word for it." Looking to the camera he added, "Or he'll start listing them. Seriously."

"I suppose there is a time issue," Castiel admitted with a sigh.

"Well that, and you tend to go down rabbit holes when you get into stuff like that."

"Is it bad I'm intrigued by variations on the Midwinter traditions?"

"No, of course not," Dean hurridly assured him. When this earned him a dubiously cocked eyebrow, he added, "Didn't Mom throw in Christmas cookies? Have a Christmas cookie while we start with the first question."

Only because Gabriel had baked them did Castiel do as he was bid. He adored Mary, really, but there wasn't much she was able to cook successfully. That was mainly left up to her visiting children during the holidays, though she could make a mean pie.

Munching on a carefully decorated sugar cookie snowman, Castiel read off the first question. "'What is your favorite Christmas song?' That's appropriate." Looking at the camera, he explained, "Dean was just complaining about them. He prefers the classics."

"So do you," Dean protested.

"Yes, but there are some newer ones that are good too," Castiel countered.

"Just answer the question. Do you have a favorite?"

He had to think about that a minute, before deciding, "Holy Night, I think."

"Blue Christmas," Dean stated. "It's a classic."

"You do like your classics."

When Dean eyed him suspiciously, he read off the second question. "'What's your favorite Christmas dessert?' That one's harder. There's a wide variety of desserts associated with this time of year."

"Yeah," Dean agreed dreamily. "You've got the cookies, you've got Yule log, you've got Christmas pie. That's my pick, by the way, Christmas pie."

Castiel rolled his eyes, the obligingly explained to the camera. "I suppose sweet potato pies are still in season, but he does make a Christmas pie. What he does is he makes a cherry pie, but when he's making the dough he mixes in green food coloring. Once you add whipped cream on top, you have the three traditional colors. He calls it a Christmas pie. And I can't believe you're picking a cherry pie."

"Pie, Cas," Dean protested. "Pie."

Folding his arms, Castiel stated stiffly, "My favorite is the Yule log. I enjoy the significance as well as the dessert itself. Which is ironic, because I'd never actually had one until that first year I spent the holiday with your family. Mary made one. It was delicious."

His husband snickered. "Yeah. I kinda regret that now. You go a little crazy with the Yule logs."

"I do not."

"Since you've poached Mom's recipe you go through three of those things every December." Turning to the camera he complained, "He makes them in batches of two. One for me, one for him, but I eat mine slower, so I don't get any of the second batch. And there is hell to pay if I look at his log sideways. I accidently got a slice of his one year, and now he makes little flags with toothpicks and sticks them in so it won't happen again."

Castiel glared at him. "I specifically told you mine was the one with the foil over it. Yours had plastic wrap. It wasn't that hard."

"See? I'm still hearing about it."

"The flags work, don't they? You have yet to make that mistake again."

"That, and it's too cold out to be in the doghouse," his husband grumbled.

"You'll remember that I don't help myself to your holiday pie."

"I don't care if you eat the pie," Dean protested. "In fact, if you help me eat it, I have an excuse to make more. It's not my fault your favorite dessert is more complicated."

"This from the man who prefers his pies lattice topped."

Dean rolled his eyes, then after a beat of silence said, "Let's give it half an hour then do some more."

Castiel stopped the recording, turning off the camera for a time. A downside of the lack of traffic was there was less to entertain them, so it was more like twenty minutes before they did the next set of questions. Somehow Castiel doubted they'd have any trouble getting them in as they headed north.

"Third question, 'What's your favorite Christmas movie?'"

"Die Hard," they aid in unison, then Dean shot him a look.

"I thought yours was Home Alone or something."

"It is. Actually it's a tie, between Home Alone and Arthur Christmas. Yours is Die Hard."

"What about Polar Express?"

Castiel hesitated at that. After a beat of silence he corrected, "Three way tie."

Dean snorted. "That can't be fair. Comment below, does he have to narrow it down to at least two?"

"It's not my fault there's multiple good ones," Castiel protested.

"We're just gonna stick a pin in that. I ain't about to start a serious argument with the guy in charge of handing out Ding Dongs. What's the next question?"

Huffing, Castiel regarded the list. "'What's the best Christmas gift you've ever gotten?'"

"Huh. I mean I've had some time to think about it, but I still don't know. For a while I thought this bike I got when I was ten was the most awesome present ever," jerking a thumb at Castiel, he continued, "but then this guy got me tickets to Led Zeppelin's last concert ever."

"You mean something is in the running with that?"

"Well, yeah. Remember that year when we got the letter confirming the house was ours? You wrapped it up and stuck a bow on it. I spent an extra four days worrying about it while the paperwork sat under the tree."

Castiel smiled fondly. He'd thought himself clever. Dean had thrown a pillow at him for that, for all he'd obviously been thrilled.

"What about you?"

"Mmm? Oh. My bee boxes."

Dean blinked. "Seriously?"

"Seriously." Turning to the camera he explained, "There were lots of good presents over the years. My first ice sakes. My first bike. A hardback copy of Lord of the Rings. But the first Christmas we were in our house, he sneaks out in the middle of the night and shovels half the backyard so he can put out bee boxes. Which he made himself. They're holding up quite well, actually. They're still in use. And he didn't even want them."

"Yeah, but you did," Dean grumbled, blushing. "There just wasn't time for you do to it, and you kept complaining that all the premade ones in our price range were cheap crap that'd fall apart."

"You put a lot of thought and care into it for me. Not to mention you didn't sleep much that night." He reached over, taking the hand that wasn't on Baby's wheel, lacing their fingers together. "It meant a lot to me."

Dean didn't say anything, but his ears were still pink, and he looked decidedly uncomfortable. After a few moments of this Castiel took mercy on him, turning off the camera. They rode in contented silence for a time after that, hands still together.

They didn't exchange words until they made a rest stop, and Castiel came out of the building to find Dean frowning down at his phone.

"Something wrong?"

His husband glanced up, shoving his phone into a pocket. "It's, uh, Dad."

Castiel's eyebrows arched. John had finally gotten Sam to meet with him. It was in a public place, with Gabriel literally seated between them, but it had happened. From what he'd understood, it had gone as well as it could have. Dean texted their father sometimes, not nearly as much as his mother but there was something about once a week. Jo was still off-limits, apparently she was still holding a grudge and refusing attempts at amends until he'd patched things up between her brothers. That being said…Castiel had to give the man points for consistency, and persistence.

"What did he say?"

"He wants to come by Sioux Falls before the New Years. Buy us dinner."

"Us?" Castiel repeated, head tilted. He'd been trying to stay out of this, for all he'd kept tabs on the happenings.

"Yeah. You and me both."

Going around to get back into the Impala, Castiel asked, "What do you think?"

"What do you mean?"

"Will you take him up on it?"

Dean got back behind the wheel, slumping in his seat. Raking a hand back over his hair he admitted, "I dunno, Cas. Would you wanna go?"

Castiel shrugged. "If you're not comfortable with it, I won't."

"If I am?"

"I will go."

His husband didn't start the car, giving him a long look. "You sure about that?"

"He's your father," he pointed out. "I'm not the one he wronged, not really. I'm a homosexual in a family of Catholics, remember? Nothing he ever said to me was worse than members of my own family or former congregation said. Getting along with everyone, getting everyone to like you, is impossible. I'm content with friends who like me for me, with family who loves me, be they blood or not. John Winchester is only of consequence to me because he's your father. He can't undo what he's done. Whether or not his transgressions are unforgivable are up to you. Whether or not they warrant certain boundaries are up to you. Whether or not he receives complete forgiveness is up to you. Whatever you choose, I will support. You know this."

"Yeah, I do." Dean gave him a tired smile. "Thanks, Cas."

Castiel dipped his head. "That being said…what are you inclined to do?"

"I dunno," he admitted, scrubbing his face wearily. "He's legit, I'm sure about that. He's definitely gonna have limits, but…if he can make nice with Sam too, I guess I'll go."

"You don't have to answer him right away, do you?"

"No."

"Then don't. Sleep on it."

Dean nodded, finally starting Baby's engine. "Yeah. I'll do that." He waited until he'd pulled back onto the interstate to ask, "Wanna do some more?"

Once everything was in position, Castiel read off the fifth question. "'Were you ever in a Christmas plan?' Well if they had a Thanksgiving play, they had to have a Christmas play. They had a play for every holiday, and it was the same story."

"Let me guess, the nativity?"

"Yes."

"What were you, anyway?"

Castiel made a face. "I intentionally requested the part of a sheep so I wouldn't have any lines. I just had to baaa a few times."

"You were a sheep?" Dean snickered.

"It wasn't my wisest choice. I really should have known better. The costume was covered in real cotton. Old, stiff, scratchy cotton, and we had to wear our costumes for all rehearsals the week leading up to the actual play. It was itchy, I came home with rashes. Stop laughing, it wasn't fun."

"I'm sorry," Dean said, not looking all sorry and clearly trying not to chuckle. "I'll bet you were a cute sheep."

"I was a very unhappy sheep with hives."

"But you were cute. Admit it. I'll have to ask your Mom for pictures the next time we're over there."

Castiel scowled at him. "I take it you never had to endure such travesties?"

"Oh we did," Dean sighed, sobering up quickly. "It wasn't just Sam. The Christmas paly and the talent show were the theater events of the year. Participation was mandatory for all fifth graders. Sam got lucky, they stuck him on stage crew."

A slow smile started to spread across Castiel's face. "You didn't mention this before."

"It wasn't my finest moment."

"What did they have you play?"

"Would you believe they cast Jo as an angel? Even after she got in school suspension for beating up the guy stealing lunch money? The theater teacher even sent home a note to have Mom cover the black eye with makeup for the big night."

"As impressive as all that is, what were you?"

Dean made a face, shifted uncomfortably, then grudgingly admitted, "Joseph."

Castiel's eyes widened. "How did that happen?"

"I don't know," Dean groaned. "I didn't have that many lines, but I wanted to be on the stage crew. I specifically said I didn't want the part. There were plenty of other kids to choose from, but no." He made a face. "I think the teacher was trying to punish me for not paying attention in class or something."

"That's…unusual."

"Yeah, well, you're the one who told me they suspended a kid for missing too much school. They rewarded him for not coming to school with not making him come to school. Seriously, how does that make sense?"

"I was not involved in that," Castiel informed him.

They fiddled a bit, listening to a few tracks before Castiel grew tired of them. At which point he reached for the list. You could only listen to the same songs so many times.

Turning his attention to the sixth question, he read off, "'What's your favorite part about Christmas?'"

"Certainly ain't all the music that starts right after Halloween," Dean grumbled.

"You like the music, you just don't like it's quantity."

"Oh, and you do?"

"Dean."

"Fine, uh…I like a lot of things about it. But I guess my favorites would be the food and spending time with family."

Castiel cracked a smile. He'd anticipated the food, but it was nice to know the second part too. "I like how it's spread out more than Thanksgiving. Traveling is easier, and you don't feel quite as rushed. I do enjoy the food too, but I think my favorite part is partaking in traditions with people who are dear to me."

Dean glanced over at him. "Yeah? Like which ones?"

He pondered for a moment, trying to decide which ones to speak of. "The shopping part can be unpleasant, but I do like exchanging gifts, seeing your reactions. Baking is fun, now that I've got the hang of it. Getting all the decorations up."

His husband groaned softly. "Decorating? Seriously?"

"The end result, not the process, like the gifts," Castiel corrected.

"Yeah, I guess so. Our house looks pretty awesome right now."

"That it does," Castiel agreed. He personally enjoyed that bit, but he knew his husband did not. "And of course there's Midnight Mass."

Dean didn't comment, but as Castiel predicted he had to reach up a hand to smother a yawn.

"As you can see, just mentioning it has him sleepy."

"I go with you," Dean protested.

It was something Castiel appreciated, the effort. Dean did try to be supportive, for all he himself was more spiritual than religious, in his own way. Castiel still found mass cathartic, he enjoyed going, but it tended to put Dean to sleep. Literally. They sat in the back so as to avoid the stares that inevitably resulted when anyone noticed Dean was no longer conscious. At least he didn't snore, for all Castiel often pulled double duty as a pillow. When the weather was suitable Dean periodically stayed in the car, but it had been too cold lately for that. Castiel appreciated his support, especially since he knew that Dean wouldn't come to church at all if left to his own devices.

Bearing all this in mind, it meant a great deal to Castiel, that Dean attended Midnight Mass with him. That he stayed awake through it all, held his hand and mouthed the hymns with him, stayed awake and by his side through it all. Castiel had to drive home so his husband could nap, but he was awake when it counted.

"I know. It's part of why it's one of my favorite Christmas traditions."

"It's kinda cool, actually," Dean admitted grudgingly. "I don't understand a lot of it, but it's…beautiful."

"I think so too."

Dean cleared his throat, asking, "Next?"

"'What's your least favorite part about Christmas?' That one's a little easier, I'm afraid."

"Yeah, no kidding."

"I don't like what it's become. Running around, do this, buy that, remember to rush. It's so commercialized, and it's easy to forget what the focus really needs to be. It's easy to forget to enjoy the traditions, the little things make Christmas…Christmas."

"Great. Real wholesome. I was gonna complain about risking my neck getting the lights on the roof and fighting crowds anytime you wanna grab so much as a gallon of milk."

"Those are valid complaints too," Castiel pointed out. "And I do appreciate you getting the lights up there. He's the one who puts them in the trees and on the roof."

Jerking a thumb at Castiel, Dean explained, "He's the mastermind behind all the decorating stuff for this time of year. I just do what he tells me."

"It works out nicely, doesn't it?"

"If you say so."

Smiling, Castiel reached up to turn off the camera. It took a little bribery on his part, getting Dean to help with the decorating, but he did like the results. Their house had been ranked in the top three these last years when judges came around to rank Christmas lights. He was quite proud of that accomplishment.

"How many do we have left?" Dean asked, turning on the radio. He didn't turn it up much, just to background levels, so they could still talk easily.

"Three. Should we wait until after lunch?"

"Probably. Speaking of which, you hungry?"

"Why does that not surprise me?"

They stopped long enough to grab some food, and once they'd eaten their fill they took up the questions again.

"'Have you ever gotten a real tree?' Unfortunately, yes, we have. Neither of us had real trees in a long time, just when were little kids. A few years ago, we thought we'd try getting one. That was a mistake."

"We knew going in it'd be more work, and it wouldn't look the same. But I think part of our mistake was going out to this place where you could cut the trees down yourself. I nearly lost a thumb when we were doing that part."

"It was an omen," Castiel sighed. "We should have paid heed."

"Yeah. Nearly lost it twice just getting the thing home. Then it took way too long to get it set up the way we wanted."

"We spent over an hour getting it set just right, where it was straight in the stand. I didn't think it'd be so tricky, getting the little dish full of water."

"The sad part is, that ain't even the worst of it," Dean admitted.

"It makes for a funny story now, but at the time it was hardly pleasant."

"You're telling me. So we're up late getting this stupid tree set up. We couldn't even put anything on it because it was almost midnight by then. We go to bed, and just as we're getting to sleep we hear something downstairs."

"We went down to check, but we couldn't find anything."

"Rinse and repeat two more times before we figured out what it was," Dean admitted.

"A chipmunk was in our house," Castiel deadpanned, folding his arms. "It would hide when we came down to look for it. When we started rummaging around it got spooked."

Dean scrubbed at his face with a hand wearily. "Would you believe we spent over an hour herding that thing out a door?"

"He finally caught it in a pot, then let it out outside."

"Never again."

"It's hardly worth it. Though I do feel sorry for the chipmunk. If anyone checked the tree they missed it. It was probably scared and only left the tree when it finally got quiet."

"You feel sorry for it?" Dean demanded incredulously. "You were cursing that thing up and down at the time."

"Yes, in the heat of the moment. In hindsight I pity it. More so than the other vermin that hitched a ride on that tree."

"Yeah. I'm just glad we didn't have to fumigate after that. We did have to call an exterminator."

"We weren't aware there were lots of bugs that had also come in with the tree," Castiel sighed. "We didn't notice for a while. The night before we were supposed to drive to my family, I was getting everything together so we could just grab things and go in the morning. There were insects and spiders all over the presents. I had to rewrap everything. Very unpleasant."

"No kidding. So yeah, we've had one real tree, and won't be doing that ever again. It didn't even have the smell, which was half the reason we did it in the first place. Next?"

"'Do you open a present on Christmas Eve?' No, we don't."

"I know a lot of people do, but I never understood why."

Castiel shrugged, looking back to the list. "Last question. 'Do you put out cookies and milk for Santa?'"

He wasn't entirely sure how to answer that, something Dean didn't seem to share. He jumped right into, "Yes, yes we do."

What? Oh. Right. They'd discussed this previously. "We can never agree on that front, so we set out a few cookies and a slice of Christmas pie. This way he has both to choose from as he sees fit. Plus the obligatory milk."

"I mean come on, you gatta, right?"

"Better safe than sorry."

"Alright, that's all for this year. Cas and me are in route home after the last of our obligatory family time, then we're gonna get some much needed R&R. You wouldn't believe how much work he put into getting everything graded before winter break. He even had the big tests right before so no one would have to study over the holidays. Ain't he awesome?"

Castiel blushed, ducking his head as he folded the list, stowing it in his bag. Yes, he did make such efforts. He'd always hated having to study when he was trying to relax and celebrate a holiday. Accordingly, he made efforts to ensure that if his students had to endure such things, it wouldn't be by his hand.

"That's gonna be all for now. This is the last of the holiday specials for the time being. If you like what you say, like, comment, and subscribe down below. Travel safe, the weather can be freakishly frightful this time of year. Happy holidays, whatever you celebrate and wherever you are. Stay safe, Gotham!"

The rest of their trip was uneventful, not even a traffic jam. They made it home, and the first things to get unloaded from the Impala was the food. Once that was safely stowed, they took care of the rest.

Dean lugged their suitcases upstairs as Castiel went to check the mail, wiggling out the bundle of what he assumed was mostly junk from their mailbox. They'd only been gone a day or two, there hadn't been need to stop it. He absently flipped through some of the items as he made his way back up their driveway, singling out two more Christmas cards and shuffling a few letters to send straight to the garbage.

He had made his way into the garage, and was about to hit the button to close the door, when an insignia on a crisp envelope caught his eye. For a moment Castiel stared at it, heart pounding. He opened his mouth to call for Dean, then closed it. A envelope didn't mean anything, he had no idea what was inside it yet.

Hurridly he jammed the garage door button, ducking inside and shutting that door on his heels. He dumped the mail on the kitchen counter, grabbing the envelope and ripping it open. Fingers a little unsteady, he pulled out the letter inside and unfolded it. He read it over hurridly, then made himself slow down.

When he did, a wide smile split his face, eyes burning. "Dean!"

"Yeah?" came the idle call from upstairs.

"Dean! Dean, come here!" His voice broke as he lurched through the kitchen, making for the stairs. His husband met him at their base, a worried look on his face, apparently having heard the tone in his shout.

"What? What's wrong?"

Wordlessly, Castiel handed him the letter. Dean grabbed it, eyes darting back and forth across it. His fingers tightened on the paper as he read it over, then read it again. A smile began to spread across his own face.

"It came through," he whispered, voice awed as he looked up to stare at his husband. "It came through, she said it wouldn't happen until the new year." He barked out a laugh, raking a shaky hand back over his hair.

"It came through," Castiel echoed, awed himself.

They'd ended up using the entirety of their drive home from Pontiac to discuss children as a whole. How they wanted to try going about it, what routes to take, and the logistics. Castiel used up what cell data he had left doing research as they debated. In the end they decided to adopt, and to keep it domestic. If they wanted to do more in the future they'd look into international, but domestic seemed less complicated for round one. As for surrogacy…they'd agreed it just hadn't felt right. Especially since there were already so many children already in the world that needed a family.

As soon as things had opened up that Monday morning, Dean had been making calls and sending emails. Castiel had actually co-written the emails, but he hadn't been able to take off on such short notice. They'd been able to do research aplenty during their Thanksgiving downtime, been able to make some decisions and find a social worker in Sioux Falls that would be their best bet. While there were others, Hanna was the only one who dealt with LGBT adoptions. They'd been able to schedule a meeting with her by the end of the week, sitting down to hammer out the details. There weren't any surprises, at least, they'd been very thorough in their research. Hanna had actually been impressed.

The fact that they were going domestic meant the wait times would be shorter, at least. But there were still steps to go through, starting with a background check. Then on to building a profile, doing the home study, the education program. Lots of paperwork, but that was understandable.

Despite them getting right on it, they were still dealing with government bureaucracy. They were working on their profile, but the home study couldn't start until the background check cleared. Which was exactly what this beautiful letter told them.

Abruptly Castiel stepped forward, throwing his arms around Dean and holding him tight. It was just the first hurdle, but still. They were that much closer to having a child of their own.

"Think Hanna's in her office?" Dean muttered, hugging him back.

"I'll call and check," Castiel mumbled.

His husband chuckled when this statement wasn't followed by a release. "Merry Christmas, eh Cas?"

"Merry Christmas."

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