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It's Dean's birthday today. They made it, but every time it happens, he's still surprised. Made it another year. He’s a little older, less invincible, a little worse than he’d like to be. He gets weird about it, even thinking about everything it's taken for him to get here. Nobody really understands that part, not many guys have lost track of how many times they've died en route to forty-something. "What's wrong?" Cas mumbles, eyes cracking open under heavy protest.Dean snickers softly. Four in the fucking morning."Nightmare?" "No, go to sleep," Dean tells him, kissing him lightly on the forehead. Cas passes out, and Dean rolls his eyes. What happened to all that I'll watch over you? Cas was getting a little too lazy with the vows. He fondly stares at the former angel. Cas still doesn't sleep as much as a human needs to, but they had a late one last night. And asleep, Cas looks adorably smoothed out. Carefully, Dean climbs out of bed. If he ruminates any harder Cas will actually wake up, and Dean needs to do something. Everyone's asleep and Dean walks past all the rooms, mindlessly moving. Maybe he gets why Sam runs. It makes a little sense, doesn't it? Just that feeling of wanting to climb out of your skin like it's a pair of wet jeans or something.Dean gets into the garage and relaxes as he sees Baby, feeling a sense of relief that he's here instead of staring down a bottle or two at four in the morning."How you doin'?" Dean asks, tracing a hand over her bumper. When he lived with Lisa he'd stare at the tarp over her for hours, trying to fight off the feeling of wanting to drive away. He hasn't felt that in a while.Dean scans Baby, spotting the minor bumps and bruises from their latest off-road hunt. "Tornado, my old friend, you are getting too old for this." He can practically hear Baby's annoyance, and smirks. "Yeah, me too. Between us, you've aged better." Dean grabs his tools, settling down by the car and getting to work. Most of Dean's birthdays happened in diners, when they remembered to do them. But taking care of Baby became a ritual pretty soon, right after Dad gave him the car officially. ---Dean got woken up on his eighteenth birthday at a pretty insane hour. Eight forty-five a.m., as in thirty minutes after he finished dropping Sammy to high school. It's hard giving up those precious minutes of sleep, because Dad either found something for them to hunt or plans to spend hours in the library reading. "I'm awake, I'm awake." Dean declared when he got shaken again. "Come on." Dad jerked his head at the door, strongly smelling of Jim Beam. "I'll be outside." Dean sighed. As per usual, Dad forgot a lot of the details of whatever this was. Does he pack up the whole motel room? Or just some essentials?Dean goes with essentials, grabbing two days worth of clothing, his weapons, and scribbling a note for Sam if he gets back before they do. They can't be going too far or Dad would've pulled Sammy out for the day. "What took you so long?" Dad's standing next to Baby. "Sorry." Dean mumbles, then squints at Dad when the guy doesn't move. Just stares at him, suspiciously watery-eyed. "Dad?" "You're eighteen." Dad says and Dean blinks at him. "Oh yeah." He runs a hand through his hair, more than a little amused. "That's a big deal huh?" He's a fucking grown man. Dad laughs softly and Dean's worried for a second. Never a good sign when Dad gets like this, when either he or Sam hit any kind of milestone. "Yeah Dean, big deal. How do you wanna celebrate?" Dean thinks it over, holding up his fingers. "Well, I already got started on drinking, graduated myself--" read: dropped out "--a while back, I've been huntin' for too long. What'd you do?" "Enlisted," Dad says wryly and Dean wrinkles his nose. "Yeah, I don't think that's gonna cut it."Dad laughs. "You, uh, got a girl you want to take out maybe?" That's new. Usually Dad's about as keen to hear about distractions as Sam is to hear that they're moving again. "I hate to break it to you, but I don't need the talk either." Dean warily shrugs. "Maybe, why?" Dad holds out the keys-- Baby's keys-- and Dean laughs."Seriously?" Dean grins, glancing at Baby. "I'll have her back without a scratch." Birthday spent driving her around town was already contender for top three in his opinion, even if the girl had ditched him. "You know, the car's thirty years old." Dean whistles. It's an age he can't fathom. "She doesn't look a day over twenty." Dad makes a face and Dean privately thinks it's uncannily like Sam's bitchface."It's amazing it runs as well it does." Dad says and Dean nods. He's read enough to know that part. Knows all about her. "I don't know if that's normal, I haven't kept up much with cars." Not since 1983, Dad doesn't say it, but Dean knows. "You don't have to, she's as good as it gets." Dean squeezes the keys in his hand. "How long do I have?" Dad glances at him. "She's yours for good." Dean can't speak for a second. "You goddamn well better take care of it." Dad warns him, but he's smiling. "You're serious." Dean declares, heart rate picking up. "She's mine?" He's thrilled out of his mind. "This is awesome." Understatement, he loves Baby. She's home. She's the car Dad had with mom, part of their oldest pictures-- Dean frowns at Dad then, the metal of the keys warm in his hand. "I better get going," Dad says and suddenly it's dimmed, the excitement of getting it.Dean’s got a cold pit of horror in his stomach. It means something, Dad leaving his car, leaving them. Dad never left the car. It's ridiculous, but Dean can't shake the feeling that this one's permanent. Dad's leaving them the car and then vanishing this time. Or he thinks the hunt's gonna go so bad that-- "I can come with you." Dean offers but he knows what's coming before Dad even shakes his head. "Dad--""Take care of Sam," Dad says, clasping his shoulder. "We'll talk when I'm back, but I'll tell you now, I don't want to hear any attitude now that you're an adult." Dean manages to force a smile, heart thudding behind his chest. The keys are digging into his palm. Dean resists the urge to ask again, stepping forward when Dad moves to the new truck parked in the motel parking lot. His hand finds Baby automatically, watching as Dad gets in and drives off. He should be used to it by now, but he never really gets there. Dean doesn't end up driving the car that day. Not the day either after, not until he gets a call from Dad. ---Dean checks over the car, timing the wax. He's pulled out dents, swapped out the back tires. Baby looks fantastic and Dean suddenly regrets putting the wax on. He could be driving right now, for fuck's sake. The keys dig into his palm. "You've been busy." Cas comments and Dean yelps, spilling a little of the beer he ended up grabbing. Cas smirks as Dean cusses, shaking his hand dry. His soon to be deceased husband looks like he rolled out of bed for the specific purpose of annoying Dean. He's got one of Dean's faded Zepp shirts on, hair sticking up every which way, eyes clear from the coffee in his hand. Dean checks the time, a little startled to see how many hours it's been. "Are you okay?" Cas asks, searching his face. Dean feels warm from it, because he's learnt the hard way what Cas sees. That Cas never sees half the shit Dean does. "Yeah," Dean says, voice cracking from disuse. Cas hands over his coffee immediately and Dean gratefully drinks some, feeling his mind clear. "I'm fine Cas." Cas looks disbelieving. "You woke up at four." "It's my birthday," Dean says, and Cas's face shifts. "Ah yes. Sam warned me about this. You're having a mid-life crisis." Cas hums. "Am I to expect replacement with a younger model? A new haircut? Random convertible parked in our driveway?" "Yes, yes, and fuck no. You done?" Dean asks, shoving Cas when he starts laughing. When Cas stops, Dean's floored for a second. Because he looks incredible, blue eyes bright and crinkled, colour high on his cheeks and that smile. It's a far cry from the angel he met all those years, and Dean's heart aches the same. Cas is happy. And Dean realizes that he is too. Has been for a long time. It's dizzying. Dean moves the keys to his pocket, pulling Cas in. He kisses Cas, slow and deep, feeling Cas's hand move up his back. When they break apart, just barely, there's grease at the edge of Cas's jaw. And Dean smiles against his lips as Cas goes in for an encore. He'll never get used to this-- the having, as Cas put it. "I like this mid-life crisis," Cas says and Dean bites down on his lip. Cas groans, and Dean's mentally figuring out how to get him into that backseat without messing up the wax. "It'll be dry soon." Dean mumbles, forehead resting against Cas's. "I want to go for a drive. Me and you, anywhere." Cas smiles and Dean's breathless. "Anything you want, but it might be a slightly longer wait." "Why?""There's a pretty excessive birthday-related situation in the kitchen," Cas says conspiratorially. "It's a surprise." And Cas, thoughtful as he was, was preventing Dean from accidentally drawing the weapon he still had on him on members of their family. It wouldn't be the first time Dean did that, but still. Poor taste on a birthday. "What did you do?" Dean shakes his head. Cas's eyes are crinkled again, the impression of a smile tugging at his lips. "Come in and find out." "I'm too old for this." "The sooner you give them what they want the sooner we can drive off." Dean can't stifle the grin in time, charmed by the look in Cas's eye. He laces his hand through Cas's, letting himself get tugged up the stairs. "I hate you." "Save something for our anniversary." Cas smirks, entirely too comfortable ever since Dean put a ring on it. Maybe it's time to reconsider that. "Look surprised." Dean drops his jaw, widening his eyes comically and Cas frowns at him, seemingly deeming it worthy. Cas elbows Dean when he doesn't drop the look, subtly clearing his throat as he pulls Dean into the kitchen.