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Murphy's Law is surely not something to take lightly.
As Castiel unfortunately has to experience on this very particular day.
It started with him somehow missing his alarm clock early in the morning and therefore everything running late right from the get-go. Castiel was forced to skip the shower he had actually looked forward to and instead settle on a quick wash with a not very satisfying washing cloth before dashing into his son's room to quickly shake him awake. Jack, as any four-year-old, didn't appreciate any of this and made his displeasure more than vocal by switching between pouting and throwing a temper tantrum while taking extra long to even put some socks on.
By the time they both had gulped down a way too hasty breakfast and sprinted to the car they were already exhausted.
Jack arrived twenty minutes late for kindergarten and Castiel even later for work. His boss wasn't happy in the slightest and didn't hesitate to jab him about that for the rest of the day. The fact that Castiel hasn't been anything else but criminally punctual since the five years he's been working there suddenly meant absolutely nothing to the man.
The day didn't go any better from then on. Missing reports, a broken coffee machine, annoying and/or incompetent coworkers, and a surprise inspection by one of the high-end bosses rounded the whole experience out. Already by lunchtime Castiel was so weary he seriously considered just bursting into tears.
Somehow he powered through it, though, and when he was finally able to leave the office he breathed a sigh of relief.
That sensation didn't last long, however, because picking Jack up from his daycare ended up rather difficult as well. Jack obviously didn't forget their hectic morning together and he truly hadn't forgiven Castiel for any of it yet.
He made several overly dramatic scenes and in the end it took Castiel nearly half an hour to stash the boy in the car seat and drive off.
Unfortunately there was one last stop on their way: the grocery store. Castiel debated for a moment to just forgo that specific endeavor and ride straight home without any detours, but their pantry was frighteningly empty and they just had to grab at least the essentials to survive for a few days. Castiel just didn't have the time to do it anytime else for the rest of the week.
It won't be so bad, he told himself over and over as he stirred onto the grocery store's parking lot. Just this one quick stop and then we can go home and relax.
Castiel holds onto that thought.
Almost desperately.
His son, however, has other plans. Instead of making the visit as fast and painless as possible he complains and fidgets and even pushes the occasional items off some shelves, just to spite his father. It only gets worse when they pass the aisle with the sweets and Jack immediately zeroes in on his favorite cookies.
“Daddy!” he basically yells into Castiel's ears, making his eardrums shake in an alarming manner. “I want cookies!”
He makes a grabby motion at the package on the shelf.
While Castiel rubs his forehead. For his own peace of mind he should probably just hand Jack the package and avoid any further fights, but then again that would be rather terrible parenting. Jack has been exceptionally defiant and to reward that behavior with his favorite snack would send all the wrong signals.
Castiel, however, is ready to compromise.
“Jack, you can't just behave like this and expect me to give you some cookies,” he points out, earning himself a quite impressive pout in response.
“But Daddy –!”
“How about this?” Castiel cuts in right away, not eager to hear any toddler arguments. “We finish the rest of our shopping and if you manage to behave like a good boy the whole time, we will come back here and get the cookies, okay? But only if you behave.”
Jack pauses at first, apparently trying to wrap his head around Castiel's words.
And then he nods. Downright reluctantly, that much is obvious, but it's a nod nonetheless.
For the first few minutes it actually seems to work, with Jack just sitting quietly in the shopping cart while bouncing his legs back and forth. Soon enough, however, he forgets everything they agreed on and Castiel is forced to deal with several tantrums in a row.
Therefore he has no other choice but to cold-shoulder the cookies and head straight for the registers after he has done all the necessary shopping. Jack's screams, of course, get only louder when he realizes what is happening.
Castiel tries his best to ignore it, though, next to all the either sympathetic or judgmental glances he gets from everyone around, pays the groceries and wheels them out of the building, without any cookies in sight.
“I'm sorry, Jack,” Castiel says as he walks to their car as quickly as possible, so very keen on getting out of here. “But I told you to behave and you didn't. You only have yourself to blame.”
Naturally Jack doesn't share this worldview and attempts some sort of argument, but underneath all the slurring and hiccups it's hard to understand anything at all. Instead he stashes the groceries in the trunk, wrestles his kicking toddler in his car seat and then shuts the door with an exhausted groan.
With Jack's angry yelling being somewhat muted by the car, Castiel allows himself a short moment to inhale deeply.
He loves being a father, he really does, and he usually doesn't mind the hecticness and chaos it all entails, but sometimes there are days where he wishes himself back into his old, boring life. The most exciting thing back then was to decide which book to read in bed that evening and that was about it.
Castiel takes another quiet moment for himself – probably the last before the end of the day, he is sure of that – before he heads towards the driver's side, about to open the door and drive back home.
He puts his hand into his coat pocket, searching for the car keys.
And the finds … nothing.
Castiel frowns at first. He rummages around for a while longer and then lets his gaze drift over the ground nearby. After all, he just had the keys to open the door for Jack, therefore they can't be that far off.
He looks and looks … and still finds nothing.
The first hints of panic start to set.
His gaze instantly falls to Jack in the car, his parental instinct to make sure that his son is alright overriding everything else. Granted, it is winter and there is no reason to assume Jack would be harmed being in a locked car in the parking lot for a few minutes, but naturally Castiel can't help himself.
Jack is still sitting in his kid seat, bouncing his tiny legs and playing with something in his hands. He doesn't seem concerned at all, contrary to his father.
Castiel sighs in relief.
And then he zeroes in on the toy Jack is currently occupying himself with.
Because that toy – well, it doesn't look like a toy at all.
More like … car keys.
Castiel's eyes widen. He did have the keys in his hand when he wrestled Jack in the seat earlier and he was so distracted by all their silly little arguments that he didn't take much notice of what he did with them afterwards. He simply assumed he had put them in his pocket, like he had done so many times before, before closing Jack's door again.
Castiel suddenly feels not just a simple headache but a full-blown migraine coming his way.
He rubs his temples and wonders whether it would be too embarrassing to simply begin crying and collapsing right here in the parking lot. At least there aren't many people around and Castiel just knows that he is in desperate need of a good cry right now. This day has been an absolute mess from start to finish and the future doesn't look very bright either.
Castiel looks at his son through the window and his exceptionally tired brain tries to convince himself that it would be a good idea to persuade the boy to open the door again. But a) the car is old and can only be opened by pulling out a button at the door, and b) Jack is so deeply nestled in his seat he can't get out anyway.
So there seems to be only one way.
He sighs. “Well, this is the cherry on top of this miserable day,” he mumbles to himself before pulling out the phone and dialing the number he had always hoped he would never have to use.
“911, what is your emergency?” the voice on the other end of the line asks.
Castiel squeezes his eyes shut in pain. “Well, this is really awkward …”
---
Naturally the fire department doesn't show up with an unremarkable car or anything like that.
No, that would have been too easy.
Instead there is a huge truck suddenly driving into the parking lot and for a second Castiel seriously contemplates pretending he is not the one they're looking for. Everyone stares at the big spectacle, including Jack, and Castiel just wants to let the earth swallow him whole.
But then he reminds himself that his son's continued well-being is more important than anything else and he waves the truck over with a sigh.
The big machine stops in front of him and several heavily geared men climb out of it.
They're looking like they're about to take out a serious fire and Castiel prays that Jack won't set the car ablaze just to see these men in action.
“You Castiel?” the man who finally approaches him first asks while the rest hang back close to the equipment, apparently preparing themselves to get the right tools as soon as they have their orders.
Castiel is so overwhelmed by it all that he takes a moment to look at the man in front of him. And then he is suddenly overwhelmed for a very different reason.
Castiel usually is too rational to be stunned by almost anything, including beauty, but when his gaze meets the one of the firefighter somehow he ends up completely rendered speechless. Suddenly there is nothing but piercing green eyes and mesmerizing freckles dappled across an unfairly beautiful face and for a moment Castiel has no idea how to deal with that. It doesn't get any better that the uniform is completing the picture in a rather distracting manner.
However, he isn't incapacitated for long because then Jack makes a little noise in the car and Castiel's parental instinct takes over immediately once more. This firefighter might be a work of art, worthy to be looked at for hours, but right now there is something much more important that needs his attention.
He glances back at Jack, making sure that the boy is still fine – and he seems to be, gaping at the fireman next to the car – before he answers the other man's question with a, “Yes, I'm Castiel.”
“The operator told us you've got a kid locked in a car,” the firefighter says, turning towards Jack with a bright smile. “I guess that's you, huh?”
Jack just stares back, obviously still too starstruck to say something.
“What happened?” the firefighter wonders, eyeing the keys still clutched in Jack's hands. “He locked himself in somehow?”
“Well, he kind of got a hold of my keys without me noticing and I was the one who locked him in,” Castiel confesses, still feeling embarrassed about the whole thing, but seeing no reason to lie to the fire department about it.
The firefighter simply nods, no judgment in his features whatsoever, and then leans forward to be able to look through the window even better. “Hey,” he says, raising his voice a little so that Jack can hear him through the window. “What's your name, buddy?”
Jack hesitates at first, his eyes unsure as they search out Castiel's, but when he sees his father nodding his approval, he answers, “I'm Jack.”
“Hey, Jack,” the firefighter says cheerfully. “I'm Dean. And I'm getting ya outta there, alright?”
The boy nods again, still somewhat tentative.
Dean smiles at him reassuringly a moment longer before he turns back to Castiel. “Well, he doesn't seem to be in any immediate danger, but we shouldn't waste any time nonetheless.”
Castiel agrees wholeheartedly. “What are you going to do? Smash a window in?”
He doesn't really care what happens to the car – a window can be replaced easily enough –, but it might frighten Jack and that thought doesn't sit right with Castiel.
“Nah, nothing so extreme,” Dean says. “We're just gonna break into your car, no harm done. The skills you learn when you apply for the Academy.” He huffs. “Trust me, when I realized how easy it actually is to break into a car …” He shudders. “I fortified my own Baby after that day, you have no idea.”
He gestures at the other firefighters in the distance and obviously communicates with them with just a few hand signals because just a moment later one of them – a petite looking, blonde woman who is probably much tougher than she appears – shows up beside them with a bunch of tools.
“That's Jo,” Dean introduces her quickly. “She will be my assistant tonight.”
The woman in question rolls her eyes at that, but there is mostly fondness in them and only a tad of exasperation.
“I will be gentle, but there are no guarantees that your car won't suffer any damages –” Dean starts and gets instantly interrupted by Castiel stating, “I don't care. You can take apart the whole thing if necessary.”
Dean nods. That's clearly what he wanted to hear.
He starts to fiddle with the driver's door and after determining which tool to use best it indeed turns out to be terrifyingly fast to break a car open. Castiel barely has time to blink more than once before the door suddenly pops open.
“Tada!” Dean announces as he opens the door and sticks his head into the interior of the car. “Hello, Jack. Nice to meet ya again.”
This time Jack giggles quietly.
Dean half crawls into the car and reaches to the backseat. He pats around for a bit before he finally finds the button that will unlock Jack's door and activates it.
Castiel doesn't hesitate. He flings the door open and lets his hand fly over the toddler's body, eager to make sure for himself that Jack is okay. Rationally he knows that this is ridiculous, Jack hasn't been alone in the car for that long, and Castiel could see him the whole time, but his “dad brain”, as his brother Gabriel so teasingly calls it every time, doesn't answer to any kind of logic.
Eventually Castiel pulls Jack out of the seat and into his arms. He knows that it will be a fight to wrestle the boy back into it later, but for now he just wants Jack as close as possible. Furthermore, Jack still appears a bit intimidated by the firefighters in their midst and quickly wraps his tiny arms around Castiel's neck, looking for comfort and protection.
Dean merely smiles at them while Jo is already collecting the tools and returning to the truck.
“Always nice to have a happy ending,” he says. “And next time you might think twice about snatching your dad's keys, yeah? They are mighty important, as you've just seen.”
Jack, who is still grasping the keys in question, quickly squirms around until Castiel is able to take them off his hands.
“We're sorry about all this,” Castiel then says with a sigh. He slowly feels the adrenaline wearing off, making room again for the exhaustion that's been haunting him for hours. “It's just been one of these days, you know? Where one thing led to another and another …”
Dean hums in sympathy. “Yeah, those are the worst. I mean, it's like when at the station someone has the audacity to utter the q-word and suddenly you don't have a moment of peace again for the rest of your shift.”
Castiel frowns. “The q-word? Do you mean –?”
“Don't say it!” Dean hastily cuts in. “I'm quite happy so far that my day has been nothing but saving little kids and helping their pretty dads. I don't need anything worse.”
Castiel's brows climb upwards and Dean seems to realize what he just said a moment later as well. A tiny tinge shows up on his cheeks, but he doesn't backpedal, which Castiel finds very intriguing all on its own.
“Well then,” Dean says, shuffling on the spot. “I guess we're done here. But if there's anything else, please don't hesitate to call the emergency services again …”
Castiel glimpses at the number displayed on the fire truck. “Is that your station?”
Dean appears a bit confused by the change in topic, but he nods right away nevertheless. “It is.”
“I'm just asking because I'm sure Jack would like to show his appreciation with some homemade cookies, am I right?” Castiel says, leaning closer to the toddler. “And of course he would need to know where to bring them personally.”
A slow smile spreads over Dean's features. “Well, that's awfully nice of you, Jack.”
The boy looks proud then, as though he will actually be the one who is going to bake all those cookies himself.
“Will you be working again next Thursday, Dean?” Castiel asks. “Jack wouldn't want you to miss the cookies, of course.”
“Of course,” Dean says, his grin wider now. “And yeah, I'm gonna be at the station next Thursday.”
Castiel inclines his head. “Then Jack will be there.”
And I too, naturally, he doesn't say, but Dean can easily hear between the lines.
There is a spark in the man's eyes as his gaze meets with Castiel's, an intensity building up all of a sudden that Castiel has never felt before and wants to elaborate further. But before they have a chance to do that, Jo calls Dean over impatiently, jolting them both out of their reverie.
“Well, uh,” Dean says, the blush on his cheeks a bit more prominent now. “I guess I'll see you next week then.”
He waves awkwardly and then he rushes off to his colleagues who are greeting him with knowing expressions. Dean just grumbles something underneath his breath and playfully shoves Jo after she says something clearly mockingly to him.
Castiel and Jack watch them eventually climb into the truck and drive away.
“Can we make the cookies now?” Jack then asks, his tiny legs twitching excitedly.
Castiel chuckles. “Let's wait until next week, yes? Then they will be extra fresh. Dean's gonna like that.”
Jack just nods. And then he asks, “Can we make cookies for me now?”
Castiel sighs, once again remembering their little episode in the grocery store earlier. Jack never got his (store-bought) cookies then and he's obviously aiming for something better now after all that excitement.
Castiel can't really tell what the parental guidebook would advise him to do in such a situation, if it would be fatal or okay to give in. Then again, in the last four years he has learned that parenting oftentimes requires to make things up as you go and that there is nothing that follows a strict schedule anyway.
“How about this?” he proposes. “Today let's make a small batch for you and me and Uncle Gabriel because he's gonna kill us if he finds out we had some cookies without him.”
Jack chuckles at that, seeing the wisdom of that statement.
“And next week we're gonna make a huge batch for all the nice firefighters, alright?” Castiel wonders, trying (and failing) not to think about those green eyes.
Jack wiggles giddily. “Yes, yes, yes!”
And as his son keeps on chanting, Castiel finds himself entirely grateful that this awful day has turned into something quite unexpected and wonderful after all.