Dean climbed into bed that night, his muscles stiff and his eyes heavy. The sheets were cold, and he lay for a long time staring at the ceiling which took on a dull grey hue from the light filtering under the door. He was exhausted, but lay awake for a while in his empty bed before his eyes began to close and his thoughts melted into dreams.

He knew he was standing in the kitchen in the bunker, but the exact details were blurry. Cas was standing at the sink, wearing a pair of Dean's grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt, his dark hair slightly ruffled.

"Morning," said Dean.

"Morning," Cas replied. He handed Dean a mug of coffee and sat down at the table, picking up a pen and working on the crossword in front of him. Dean walked around the table, but he paused for a second to slide a hand over Cas's shoulder and across his chest, dipping down to kiss him on the temple.

"Seven across is 'verisimilitude'" he said, glancing down at the crossword before kissing Cas once more on the cheek and assuming his seat beside him.

"Thank you," Cas said. Dean found himself smiling as he watched Cas work on the crossword, the end of the pen between his teeth and his forehead creased in concentration.

"Where's Sammy?" Dean asked after a few moments.

"He went to get some groceries."

"So, we're alone?" he asked, mischievously. Cas smirked, immediately dropped his pen and grabbed Dean by the hand. They hurried from the kitchen towards the bedroom, but as if on cue, Dean heard the distant sound of the heavy bunker door swinging open and the sound of footsteps on the metal stairs. He met Cas's eye with an expression of light-hearted exasperation.

"We're never going to get a minute to ourselves ever again are we?"

"Nope," said Cas, walking through to the library to meet Sam, still holding Dean's hand. They entered the bright library, where a tall tree was standing in the corner, bedecked with red and gold ribbon and twinkling with hundreds of tiny lights. From nowhere, two small shapes came running into the room and launched themselves at Dean and Cas.

"Daddy!" said the eldest child, a boy with sandy blond hair and green eyes. "Uncle Sammy bought me a new car," he said excitedly.

"He did? Right before Christmas? I think your Uncle Sammy is spoiling you," Dean said, grinning at his brother. "Let me see then," he added, sitting down at the table. The boy held out a model of a Lincoln Continental, just like Cas's car that was sitting parked in the garage below their feet.

Cas had scooped up the younger of the two, a little girl, into his arms. She also had blond hair that fell in ringlets around her shoulders, and bright blue eyes. She was struggling to open her own toy with her small fingers, a familiar frown on her face.

"What did you get?" asked Cas, mirroring her expression as he watched her struggle. Just as Cas was about to help her, she managed to pull the plastic backing from the toy, and pulled out a scale model of a '67 Chevrolet Impala, holding it out to him proudly.

"It's your car," she beamed.

"That's my girl," Dean laughed. Cas watched her with a warm smile as he put her down and she ran to the large wooden table to sit by her brother, making little engine noises as she drove the car around on the tabletop.

"Thanks Sammy," Dean said, patting his brother on the back.

"No problem," he replied. "We had a great time." Sam gathered the rest of his shopping and walked past them to the kitchen. Cas slipped his arm around Dean's waist as they watched their children play and chatter happily to each other as they engaged in a car chase that seemed to involve several witches and a rogue llama.

As Dean watched them, he felt complete, as if these children were pieces of his life that he didn't know he'd been missing. They were perfect in every single way.

"I love you," Dean said, looking at Cas. Cas tore his eyes away from his kids to smile at Dean.

"I love you too," he said, pulling Dean closer to him, sliding a hand along the side of his face until his fingers were in his hair, and he kissed him softly on the lips.

Dean jolted awake, finding himself alone and staring up at the grey ceiling, the vivid dream fading swiftly like water through his fingers. He lay still for a few moments before heaving himself upright and letting out a long sigh, rubbing his hands over his face. The clock on his bedside table read 7:09am so he rose and dressed, replaying his dream in his head, as if by repeating it he could stop the memory from slipping away in the light of day. He emerged into the hallway and heard the quiet sounds of footsteps and running water.

He followed the sound until he reached the kitchen where he found Cas. The angel was in much the same position as in his dream, except he was fully clothed in his usual dark suit and trenchcoat, and he was making toast instead of coffee.

"Morning," Cas said, not really looking up.

"Morning," said Dean, but his disorientation must have found its way in to his voice because Cas asked,

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he said, although he paused for a second, staring at Cas who was lifting two slices of toast from the toaster, spreading jam on one and peanut butter on the other. He felt like he was seeing the angel differently in the wake of his dream. "I just had a weird dream."

"What was it about?" Cas asked, licking the jam from his index finger, picking up the plates and walking past him from the kitchen. Dean walked with him to the library where the Christmas tree stood, although it looked significantly less impressive than it had in his imagination.

"Breakfast," Cas called, and out of nowhere, two small figures appeared, wrapping themselves around Dean's legs.

"Hey kiddos," he said, with an exaggerated groan as he picked them both up, one in each arm. "I swear you guys are getting bigger by the day."

His daughter threw her arms around his neck holding him tight, and he kissed his son on the forehead before sitting them both down at the table and tucking in their chairs. Cas put down the plates in front of them and turned back to Dean.

"Your dream," Cas prompted. Dean slipped his arm around Cas's waist as they watched their son and daughter talking happily to each other over their breakfast.

"It was weird," Dean said, "because it was just like a normal day. I woke up and I realised that I am actually living my dream." He looked at Cas who was watching his kids with an expression of complete contentment on his face. "You are my dream," Dean said. Cas looked away from his children and smiled at him.

"Merry Christmas, Dean," he said. Dean leaned down to kiss him.

"Merry Christmas, Cas."


A/N So that was the final instalment of this series. If you'd like to keep reading more, check out my new one-shot series "Moments". If you've made it all the way to Chapter 17 all I can say is thank you, I really hope you enjoyed some, if not all of these oneshots. Please leave me a review and let me know what you thought. All the best x