Archive of Our Own

While lying comfortably on his memory foam mattress, Dean rucks his shirt up just enough to scratch his hip. He can feel an angry stretch mark under his fingertips, so he tries to pull his t-shirt back down to cover it. His plan is foiled by a warm hand sneaking under his shirt and sliding up his stomach until it comes to rest over his heart.

“Cas,” Dean laments lamely. He wraps his arm around Cas’ back and rubs the base of his spine to get his attention.

Cas lifts his head off Dean’s chest and peers at him curiously, his hair ruffled from sleep and his cheek red from where it was squished against Dean’s shirt. Dean smiles lazily at him and waits for Cas to return the smile before he leans forward and seals their mouths together. It's meant to be an innocent kiss, a, “hey, how are you” kind of gesture, but that all gets shot to hell when the hand on Dean’s chest purposely grazes over his nipple.

Dean lets out an embarrassing gasp that would've gone unnoticed had it not been accompanied by an embarrassing arch off the bed. Cas laughs softly at him, but it's short-lived as he's too eager to get back to kissing Dean senseless.

The thing about Cas is that he has no fucking clue how loud of a kisser he is. He hums and growls and moans with absolutely no shame, and sure, Dean should probably tell him but then he’d stop doing it and really it's completely worth the risk of—

“Dean!” Sam bangs his fist against the door so hard that a picture frame falls off of Dean’s nightstand. Cas stares at the fallen picture frame before whipping his head around toward the door knowingly. Dean sighs and drops his head back against the pillow.

“I get that I'm the only person suffering here, but that doesn't make it OK,” Sam shouts through the door.

Dean, being a lazy asshole, nudges Cas with his elbow to get him to go to the door. They've naturally developed their own language that makes life a lot easier to navigate. 

“Good morning, Sam,” Cas greets cluelessly.

Dean once again drops his head back against the pillow in hopes that he won't see what Sam says to Cas.

Of course, Sam talks as he signs. “You need to move out, Dean. Seriously this time.”

With a sigh, Dean rubs his eyes and waves Sam off.

Cas must say something, but Dean doesn't bother sitting up to see it.

“I'm not saying you have to move in together. Just that Dean needs to move out.”

“I'm working on it,” Dean mumbles.

“Well, work on it harder.”

The door slams. Cas pads back over to the bed and reaches his hand down. Dean frowns up at him for all of five seconds before caving and accepting his hand. Cas’ arm legitimately flexes with the effort of helping Dean up, an unfortunate reminder of how big he's gotten.

(Despite the fact that a scale mysteriously showed up in the bathroom two weeks ago, Cas doesn't seem too concerned about Dean’s weight. He's always pinching his love handles and kissing his belly and feeding him pie and letting him be extremely lazy, so it's really no surprise that Dean’s passed the “chubby” phase right on over to “fat.”)

“What time you coming by the shop today?” Dean asks with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth.

Cas spits into the sink and sets his toothbrush in a cup before responding, “Isn’t Claire in at 3? I was going to bring her myself.”

“Uh, yeah. That, uh, sounds good.”

Dean’s hands sort of go limp as Cas strips down and steps into the shower. He licks his lips, swallows a lump in his throat and considers getting naked himself and climbing in. Two things stop him: it would be a tight fit, and he and Cas haven't actually had sex yet.

It's not like they haven't had opportunity. Sure, Sam whines at the slightest noise, but Eileen doesn't have a reason to complain. The room is small, but Dean has a king-sized bed for a reason and that reason is currently being squandered. Even at Cas’ own house, it wouldn't be impossible. Claire doesn't care when Dean sleeps over, she keeps her headphones on most of the time anyway, and she spends the night at Jody and Alex’s three nights a week.

The thing is, Cas and Dean haven't even talked about it. Up until this point in his life, most of Dean’s relationships have revolved around sex. But that's not because sex is the only thing Dean cares about; it's just that Dean doesn't date people and so the most he's going to do consistently with someone is…have sex.

It's been four and a half months (not that Dean’s counting), and not once has Cas made a move. Dean hasn't either, but that's beside the point. They've talked about getting married. Extensively talked about getting married. And they haven't had sex. It's not that Dean is having an identity crisis over it, but OK so maybe he's having an identity crisis over it.

Cas pulls the shower curtain back far enough to shove his hands out and sign, “Stop staring at me, Dean.”

Dean whacks the shower curtain with a towel in response. He gives himself a quick shave and ignores the way his heart is beating out of his chest with the intimacy of sharing a bathroom with his—Cas. 

After he's done, Dean rummages through his dresser for a pair of clean jeans that actually fit him. He’s due for a trip to the army surplus, but that means admitting that he can’t fit his fat ass into a pair of 42s anymore. He throws his t-shirt off and slips out of his pajama pants, and by the time he turns back toward the bathroom Cas is standing in the doorway with a towel wrapped around his waist. His eyes are glued to Dean’s midsection.

“Who’s staring now, Cas?” Dean jokes before patting his belly.

With a small smile, Cas lifts his hands and points his thumbs at himself.

Dean laughs and steps forward to pull Cas into his arms. He peppers his neck in kisses as Cas digs his fingers into his sides. When they break apart, Dean tells him he’s going to take a shower. He gives him a hard pat on the ass which means, “go make coffee.” (As opposed to their soft pat on the ass, which translates to, “hey,” and a pinch on the ass, which means, “go away.”)

Sam and Eileen are sitting at the table drinking coffee when Dean enters the kitchen, but that doesn’t stop him from sneaking up behind Cas and wrapping his arms around his waist. Cas tilts his head to the side so Dean has better access to kiss his shoulder. Sam groans in annoyance.

“You smell nice,” Dean signs with his arms still caught around his waist, his hands pushed as far out in front of Cas as he can manage so he can sign.

Cas grabs one of Dean’s hands and spells against his palm, “You, too. Shower.”

Sam gives Dean the loudest frown of all time as Dean takes a seat next to Eileen. He grins stupidly at Sam and presses a kiss to Eileen’s temple as a greeting. Just as Sam opens his mouth to speak, Dean cuts him off with, “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m moving out.”

“Hey, Big Dean, what's going on?”

“God, not you, too,” Dean complains with a hard look at Charlie.

She puts a dollar in the tip jar and taps her fingers against the display case that Dean is currently cleaning. “The greatest tragedy of our day is that Cas can't hear all of us calling you Big Dean.”

“You know, I'd really love to go just one day without someone mentioning my weight or my relationship with Cas.”

Charlie snorts. “Yeah. Good luck with that, big guy.”

The nickname is a new thing that Dean’s spent the last week and a half investigating to find out who the fuck started it. His money’s on Henriksen, the cop—“I'm a detective, Dean, there's a difference”—who likes croissants instead of donuts—“oh so that’s the difference”—but it also could've been any one of Dean’s employees. Or maybe that guy Benny who keeps asking Dean out to coffee even though Dean works in a goddamn bakery that sells coffee. Whoever it was, Dean is about ready to hit them. If he has to go on a diet to get people to stop, he and his belly are going to be very unhappy.

“Charlie! Big Dean!” Donna greets, drawing out the “e” of Dean’s name for a comically long time. She tosses her arm around Charlie's shoulders and grins at Dean. “Guess what.”

“What?” Charlie and Dean ask in unison.

Donna steps away from Charlie and spins in a circle. “I’ve lost 10 pounds since August.”

“Hey! That’s great. You gave them to Big Dean, right?”

Dean’s in the middle of rolling his eyes when an actual paying customer walks up to the counter. He shoos Donna and Charlie away and signals to Kevin to get them their usual while he deals with the new customer. He flashes her his best smile, but it has no effect on the sad lines of her face. Maybe she saw him rolling his eyes and is offended.

“What can I help you with today, ma’am?”

“I, um,” she starts in such a quiet voice that Dean has to lean toward her. “I was wondering—does—does a Claire Novak work here?”

Dean crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t know about Novak, but we’ve got a Claire here. What’s it to you?”

The woman’s eyes shimmer. “Is she, um, a teenager? Seventeen years old?"

“Look, lady, I don’t know what you’re—"

“I’m her mother.”

Sam insists that he can run the shop by himself, and while Dean knows that he’s perfectly capable of doing so, he still tries to argue about it. The truth is that Dean doesn’t want to have the conversation with Cas that he knows he needs to have. He knows that he needs to take the night off and spend it with his—his Cas, but that doesn’t mean he’s not dreading it.

Amelia Novak didn’t give Claire up because she didn’t want her. She was forced into a terrible situation and her daughter was taken from her as a result. She’s been trying to find her for more than a decade.

Of course, Dean sat with her—interrogated her—in the shop for an hour before finally believing anything she said.  

Now Cas and Dean are enjoying a silent dinner together at Dean’s apartment, at a normal hour, eating non-pastry food that Dean had time to cook himself, and Cas has a stupid, affectionate smile on his face as if Dean’s doing this just because he’s sweet and, god forbid, romantic.

He only eats half the food on his plate before getting too nervous to eat anymore. After setting his fork and knife down, he says, “Cas, I gotta talk to you about something.”

The smile on Cas’ face widens. He fumbles to set his own silverware down and then frantically signs, “Will you marry me?”

“What? No, Cas—I mean! Fuck. Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you, but that’s not—that’s not why I’m doing this. It’s about Claire.”

The way Cas’ face falls will haunt Dean for years, he’s sure. “What do you mean it’s about Claire?”

He wants to explain that it’s a good thing, that foster kids are lucky if they ever end up back with their parents, that the point of the system is to reunite families.

Instead, he says, “You’re not her dad, Cas.”

It’s the biggest fight they’ve ever had. By the time they’ve stopped arguing, Dean’s arms hurt from moving his hands so furiously. In the end, however, Cas takes his hand and they walk to Dean’s room together. They change into pajamas in silence, Cas stealing a t-shirt from his dresser and stripping down to his boxers. He pulls Dean onto the bed and kisses him gently before curling against his side and rubbing circles into his hip.

With one arm wrapped around Cas’ back, Dean signs, “Were you serious about proposing?”

The hand on Dean’s stomach tenses and digs into his fat. With a heavy sigh, Cas rolls over onto his back and signs, “I assumed you were proposing tonight. I don’t know why, but I needed to beat you to it. You’ve already proposed, technically, so it was my turn. I don’t have a ring. Do you actually want to get married?”

Dean laughs and grabs Cas’ right hand. He drops a kiss to his fingers before saying, “Yeah, buddy, I want to marry you.”

It’s really stupid the day Dean puts Alex on the schedule at the same time that Cas and Claire sit at a corner table and discuss Amelia.

“Are they talking about her job? They’re talking about her job, right?” Alex asks with her arms propped up on the display case and her chin in her hand.

“Yeah. She’s driving for a limousine company,” Dean explains as he also props his arms onto the display case.

“Well, that’s not good enough to support a child.”

“Not sure if the agency cares about that kind of stuff. That’s what Claire is explaining to Cas right now.”

“Excuse me, can I get a cup of water?” a customer asks.

Dean doesn’t respond to the guy. He simply snaps in the direction of the coffee maker to get Krissy’s attention. She mumbles some passive aggressive nonsense under her breath as she walks over to the register to help the customer.

“God, they sign so fucking fast. I can’t keep up with this,” Alex complains.

“Maybe if you spent more time using your hands to sign and less time using them to—”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll never tell you who started ‘Big Dean.’”

Claire and Cas both stop signing and look over at them. Dean and Alex quickly move away from the display case and pretend to be working. As Dean is making a new pot of coffee, a piece of crumpled up paper hits him in the back of the head. He turns to find Cas waiting for him at the counter.

“You do have a voice, you know,” Dean says skeptically.

Cas hums in response.

“Where’d Claire go?”

“She has homework due before her class tonight. Am I doing the right thing?”

“Um, I don’t know. What are you doing?”

Cas sighs and taps his fingers against the counter before responding. “Claire turns 18 in less than a year. She’s allowed to make her own decisions.” He drops his hands and taps the counter again. “If nothing else, she learned sign language.”

“What?”

A family walks up, and Cas waits while Dean takes their order. Once they’re gone, Dean once again asks, “What?”

“If she doesn’t want to spend time with me anymore—if she wants to live with her mother—then I hope she at least feels like it wasn’t a waste of time. Sign language is a useful skill to have.”

“Cas, what the fuck are you saying? You can’t actually think she’d feel that way. She loves you.”

Cas just looks at him.

More customers come in. The line gets out of hand, so Cas leaves.

When Dean closes up that night, he doesn’t even bother shooting Cas a text before driving to his house. He has a key to the place, so he lets himself in and finds Cas reading a book in the living room. He plops down next to him on the couch and waits for him to finish the chapter.

When Cas is done, he tosses the book on the coffee table and leans over until his head is pillowed on Dean’s thighs. He wraps his hand around Dean’s knee and rubs his thumb in a steady circle on the denim of his jeans. He obviously doesn't want to talk, and Dean isn't going to push the issue. He drops his hand to Cas’ hip and rubs a gentle line up and down his side.

After several minutes, Cas sits back up and says, “I became a foster parent because I didn't want kids of my own. I wanted to help kids who don't have anybody. I wanted to be—” His hands still for a moment as he searches for the right word, “—something for them.”

“You are Claire’s family, Cas. In all the ways that matter. Family don't end with blood.”

“If only that was the slogan for the foster care system.”

Dean huffs a laugh and rubs his hands against his thighs. “Where is Claire now?”

“With Alex. She had lunch with her social worker and then immediately went to Jody’s house after. I haven't spoken to her.”

“Are you avoiding talking to her?”

Cas crosses his arms defensively.

Dean scoops him up in a hug and plants a kiss into his hair. “We’ll figure this out, Cas,” he says to reassure himself.

Cas, of course, doesn't hear him.

Dean is doing paperwork at the front register during slow hours when Claire walks up to the counter and glares daggers at him.

“You've cut back my hours,” she complains.

He straightens up, tucks his pencil behind his ear and raises a quizzical eyebrow at her. “You've been under a lot of stress. I was doing a little thing called looking out for you.”

She drops her weight back and plants her hand on her hip. “I'm fine. Can I work tonight?”

“Claire—”

“Just answer the question, Dean.”

“No, you can't. Not with that attitude. I've already got one kid I have to sequester to the back because she's too much of a punk to deal with customers—”

“Hey!” Krissy protests from the back.

“—I can't afford another useless employee.”

“Fine! If you're gonna fucking be this way, then I quit.”

“You don't talk to me like that, young lady.”

“Young lady? Really?”

“You can’t quit, Claire.”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s not what you want.” Dean deflates a little because, really, he’s not mad at her. Not at all. “Come back here. Have a seat, let’s talk.”

Claire is hesitant at first but eventually comes around the counter and sits on the offered stool. She looks at Dean expectantly, if also a bit wary.

“Tell me how you’re feeling. Be honest.”

“What are you, my shrink?”

“I got half an hour before this place is packed, answer the question.”

“Fine. I feel terrible. I don’t even fucking remember my mom. I’ve already...I can’t…”

“What? You can’t what?”

“It’s the same as always. I get stuck with a new stranger and I never know how they’re gonna be. If they treat me like shit, it sucks. If they treat me well, that’s worse because—because I always have to fucking leave again and go somewhere else. I just—I don’t wanna do it anymore. Even if she is my mom.”

“So don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t go with your mom. Stay with Cas.”

“I don’t have that choice, Dean. I’m not 18.”

“You’ve got options. They’re not just gonna—you don’t just immediately get reunited with your mom. Maybe it’d be different if she had been around this whole time, but she hasn’t been. And she’s not even supposed to be around without a social worker, I don’t think. We’ll talk to the social worker and get this sorted out, yeah?”

Claire squints at him. “Did you, like, research this shit?”

“Maybe. Look, the point is—it’s not one or the other. You can get to know your mom before she ‘steals’ you away from Cas.”

A customer walks in. Dean waves at him.

“So, awkward small talk over coffee? Sounds great,” Claire laments as she exits out the back of the shop.

“Daughter problems?” the guy asks before ordering anything.

“Yeah, something like that,” Dean mumbles.

“Mm, that’s a tough age. They can be so—”

“What would you like to eat, sir?”

That night, Dean drives over to Cas’ house and lets himself in per Cas’ texted request a couple hours earlier.

“Claire at Jody’s?” Dean asks before pulling Cas to his side and kissing his temple.

Cas nods and rubs his nose. He’s already in his pajamas, which consists of a pair of boxer briefs and Dean’s old “Frankie says relax” t-shirt. Based on the dishes in his sink, he’s already had dinner. 

(He rarely waits for Dean before eating, which is understandable. Dean usually doesn’t leave the shop until 9 or 10 at night.)

“Have you eaten?” Cas asks, reading Dean’s mind.

“No, but I’m not very hungry. You got any cereal?”

Dean doesn’t bother watching Cas’ response as he rummages through the cabinets for some Honey Smacks. This is usually how it goes, Dean quickly scarfing something down while Cas sits across from him looking bored.

“I talked to Claire today,” Dean says as soon as he’s done eating. “She’s—”

Cas cuts Dean off by dropping into his lap and grabbing his hands. He places them on his waist.

“You’re doing this to avoid this conversation, aren’t you?” Dean asks.

Cas nods seriously.

“Oh, you can read lips now?”

With his hands positioned right in front of Dean’s face, he says, “I’m assuming you’re saying something about me not wanting to talk about Claire right now. And you’re right. Kiss me.”

Dean growls in annoyance but kisses him anyway. Cas is a little more forceful than usual, his tongue feeling too thick in Dean’s mouth. It makes him squirm, but when he tries to pull away Cas chases him and bites his lower lip a little too hard.

Dean has to push a hand to his chest and give him a stern look to make him stop. Cas frowns petulantly.

“I want to have sex with you,” Cas says with a matter-of-fact set of his jaw.

Dean’s heart leaps and then sinks. “No, you don’t. You want to avoid your problems.”

It takes Cas a moment to respond. “We haven’t had sex. Don’t you want to?”

“Of course I fucking want to, Cas. But not like this. Not if you’re gonna—not if you use it to change the subject.”

“I don’t want to talk about my daughter.” His hands freeze and then shakily correct, “Not my daughter. Claire. I don’t want to talk about Claire. Not right now. Please?”

Dean sighs and rubs his hands up Cas’ sides. Cas wraps his arms around his neck and pulls Dean’s face to his chest. They stay like that for a while, breathing each other in.

Eventually Cas climbs out of his lap and reaches his hand out to lead Dean to their—his room. They dance around each other as they get ready for bed, and then they both stand on either side of the bed waiting for the other to get in first.

“We’re not gonna have sex, Cas,” Dean says a little regretfully.

“Never?”

“What? No. I just mean right now. Not while all of this is going on with Claire. So c’mon, get in bed.”

Dean moves first, but Cas is (thankfully) quick to follow. They sink into the middle of the bed and lie shoulder-to-shoulder on their backs.

“I don’t really like sex.”

“What?” Dean sits up so fast he gets dizzy.

Cas looks up at him with a blank expression.

“How do you not like sex?”

Cas shrugs.

Dean lies back and smooths a hand down his gut to give himself some time to gather his thoughts. Eventually, he says, “You don’t like sex in general, or you don’t want to have sex with me?”

“In general.”

“You sure about that?”

“What are you insinuating?”

“You sure it’s not just about…” Dean shifts uncomfortably and points to his stomach.

Cas’ brow furrows as he looks between Dean’s face and his midsection.

“Look, dude, I know I’m not hot anymore, but you don’t have to come up with some bullshit excuse for not wanting to—”

Cas grabs his hands and kisses his knuckles before signing, “You’re fat, Dean. Not ugly. To be perfectly candid, I wasn’t even physically attracted to you until after you gained weight. So no, this isn’t about that.”

“Are you serious? You didn’t find me attractive? Not even a little bit?”

Cas dramatically rolls his eyes. “Quit being vain.”

“Hey,” Dean says superfluously as he pokes Cas’ side. When Cas turns his head, Dean kisses him gently. “What can I do to make you like sex?”

“Nothing. I’ve slept with a handful of people and didn’t enjoy it with any of them. I imagine you won’t be any different. No offense. It’s not you, it’s me.”

Despite the fact that Cas is making light of the situation, Dean can tell by his body language that he’s nervous about this. It makes Dean feel like an asshole for making this about himself.

“I’ll tell you how I’m different. We don’t have to have sex.”

“What?”

“We’re already not having sex. We can just continue not having sex.”

“Not for the rest of our lives, we can’t.”

“Sure we can. It’s not a big deal.”

Cas stares at him.

“Who cares, Cas? I’m not some animal. I don’t need sex to survive.”

“I don’t think there are any animals that need sex to survive.”

“They do if they want to procreate. There’d be a lot of extinct species if animals were like you.”

“You and I can’t procreate anyway.”

“What! You’re kidding me.”

Cas squints. “This conversation got away from us.”

Dean sighs and scrubs a hand down his face. He turns on his side and writes an X with his index finger, right over Cas’ heart. They’ve never talked about it, but it’s how they say, “I love you.” Cas is the one who started it. Dean’s only done it, like, twice. In the dark, quiet privacy of their own rooms. He might actually die if anybody found out he did that mushy shit.

Cas covers his hand with his own and slips his other arm around Dean’s back. He kisses the top of his head, and Dean buries his face in his shirt to hide his embarrassment.

Sex really isn’t that important.

The social worker assigned to Claire’s case is named Billie Grimm and she scares the absolute shit out of Dean.

Honestly, Dean was shocked when Claire invited him to lunch with...the family, and he nearly got up and left the restaurant when he met Billie.

“This never happens, Claire, I need you to know that,” Billie explains carefully as they all sit and wait for Amelia to arrive. “Don’t be surprised if your mother never shows up.”

“Well, if that’s your opener then I can’t wait to see how the rest of our time together goes,” Dean replies sarcastically.

Billie shoots him a bored look. “Claire is one of the lucky ones. The fact that her mother even cared enough to try to find her is a miracle in itself.” Her eyes move to Castiel. “He’s deaf, right?”

“Yeah, he is. Can you explain to me how a hearing child ended up with a deaf foster parent?” Dean rudely asks.

Again, a bored look. “No. I can’t.”

Cas squeezes Dean’s knee to get him to look at him. He then asks what they’re talking about.

“Currently Billie is scaring the shit out of me. She thinks Amelia won’t show,” Dean signs.

“You two probably shouldn’t do that once Amelia is here,” Billie interrupts.

“Well, Cas will have no fucking idea what’s going on if I don’t sign the conversation to him, and I think it’s pretty damn important that he knows what’s going on.”

Billie glares at Dean. Dean clenches his jaw. Billie relents by rolling her eyes.

Cas slides his hand over Dean’s thigh, so Dean puts his hand over his and slots their fingers together under the table. It’s not a solid plan if Cas needs to say something, but they’re both just a little on edge so it makes sense to hold onto each other.

Only two more minutes of awkward silence pass before Amelia finally shows up.

Lucky for them, Amelia looks nervous as well. She sits as far away from them as possible and hardly says anything before flagging down a server and ordering a glass of water.

“You’re here,” Billie says in a bored tone, but her eyes are wide in shock. “Unbelievable.”

Amelia smiles shyly then quickly drops her gaze away from Billie. Dean doesn’t blame her. Billie’s staring at Amelia the way Cas stares at him when he’s done something stupid.

“Um, I’m sorry, but aren’t you just Claire’s boss? Why are you here?” Amelia asks Dean, not unkindly.

Dean looks at Cas and then back at Amelia. “I, uh, I’m Cas’ boy—fiance.”

He shares a look with Claire after he says it. She squints at him like she can’t figure out if he’s telling the truth or if he’s just saying that because Cas can’t hear him.

“Oh,” Amelia says, and this time it is unkind. She looks at Claire. “You’re living with two men?”

“Here we go,” Billie says under her breath as she shifts uncomfortably in her seat.

“Dean doesn’t live with us.”

“Well. I don’t—it’s not—”

Cas pats Dean’s shoulder to get his attention. He doesn’t have to ask what’s going on before Dean quickly explains the situation to him.

Dean’s heart breaks at the way Cas’ face falls.

“If she’s upset by us being together, then she will definitely be upset by Claire’s relationship with Alex,” Cas quickly signs.

“Fuck,” Dean breathes, forgetting that there are hearing people at the table.

“What? What is it?” Amelia asks nervously.

Dean turns toward her with a fake grin. “It’s nothing. Sorry. What were we talking about? Oh right, you don’t like that Claire’s foster dad is gay.”

Amelia’s mouth drops open. “You don’t need to be so…open about—”

“I’m gay, too, Mom,” Claire bites.

That leaves Amelia speechless.

Billie chokes back a laugh.

“This is going well, I think,” Dean says with a slap to his knees.

“I’m not—I’m a Christian,” Amelia says, as if that explains anything. “A devout believer, so I struggle with…”

“You think being gay is a sin,” Claire finishes for her.

She nods in embarrassment.

“Listen, Amelia,” Claire starts awkwardly, "If you want to be a part of my life, you’re going to have to get over this. I spend literally all of my free time with my girlfriend.”

Amelia clenches her jaw but quickly relaxes her face. “I can work on it. I’ll work on it. I have a lot to—please, I’ve waited so long to find you and…”

Billie opens her mouth to interrupt, but Claire beats her to it.

“And what? Tell me that being gay is wrong?” she says with a laugh.

Surprisingly, Amelia laughs as well. “I want to be a part of your life, Claire. I want to figure this out with you.”

“Well, we already got the first thing down: don’t be homophobic. Next, learn ASL.”

Amelia’s eyes dart from Claire to Cas to Dean and then finally to Billie. “How?”

Dean signs and says, “We have a few people that can teach you.”

“She wants to learn sign language?” Cas asks eagerly.

“What did he say?” Amelia says.

“He’s excited that you want to learn sign language,” Dean responds.

“Does that mean Claire’s not leaving?” Cas asks.

Dean smiles widely at him. He signs, “Yeah, it means Claire’s not leaving.”

Just as Amelia opens her mouth to ask what they’re saying, Dean leans over and kisses Cas’ cheek. Amelia clears her throat and looks down at her lap.

“I’ve got to be honest, this is...unconventional,” Billie says seriously. “Claire, you’re a very lucky child.”

Claire scoffs.

“You don’t get it. Most foster kids have nobody.” She gestures around the table. “You’ve got three people here who obviously care about you a lot. You can of course stay in touch with your foster dad if that’s what you want, but in rare cases like these it’s best if you and your mom—”

“What about adoption?” Claire interrupts.

“What?” Dean yells, squeezing Cas’ knee under the table.

For the first time, Billie looks down at the binder of paperwork she brought with her. “Well, uh, I’ve definitely had foster parents adopt the kids they foster, but that’s never happened when a biological parent is in the picture.” She looks around the table as if assessing each of them. “If we could come to a civilized conclusion, I’d really love to avoid taking this to court. So, uh, Amelia, I suggest we consider at least talking about adoption if that’s what Claire wants.”

Amelia shakes her head vigorously. She looks like she’s about to burst into tears. “I don’t—I can’t—I’ve waited so long to find her…” Her voice trails off lamely.

“Mom.” Claire waits for Amelia to look at her. “You’re a stranger to me. I’m a stranger to you.” She begins signing as she talks. “Cas is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. For all intents and purposes, these assholes are my dads. Please don’t take that away from me.”

Dean turns quietly to Cas. His eyes are swimming, and his mouth is open in shock. He’s looking at Claire like she’s the only one in the room.

Dean squeezes his knee under the table.