Maybe Dean shouldnât have said yes to Jackâs insistent begging for a treehouse in the backyard, but as they walked through the home improvement store with Cas pushing the cart, collecting wood, ropes, and nails (and a plastic set of tools for Jack to use), the smile on Jackâs face as he tugged on Deanâs hand was absolutely worth all the hard work they had ahead of them. Heâd never seen Jack so excited, and when Dean looked over at Cas, the look of absolute devotion he saw in Casâ soft smile made his heart lurch in his chest. Oh yes, this definitely was the best decision theyâd ever made.
âMore wood, Daddy, more wood,â Jack chanted as Dean placed another set of plywood into the cart and Cas added some shingles for the roof.
Reaching down, Dean plucked Jack up from the floor to balance him on his hip. âWhat do you think, buddy? Enough wood now?â he asked, letting Jack see their little stash of supplies.
Jack nodded, pulling at Deanâs hair happily. âTreehouse time?â
Cas reached out, tugging on Jackâs little boot with a smile. âYeah, time to go home and start building the treehouse.â
Stacking the supplies into the Impala had been an adventure all on its own, and by the time they got home, Jack was fast asleep in his carseat. âIâll grab Jack if you want to get the supplies into the backyard?â Cas asked.
Heart skipping a beat in his chest, Dean tugged Cas across the bench seat into a soft lingering kiss.
Cas kissed him back slowly, breaking apart to rest their foreheads together. âWhat was that for?â
âI love you. Both of you,â Dean said in response.
Half an hour later, all the materials were in the backyard underneath the tall maple tree. Jack came barrelling out the backdoor with his little toy set of tools attached to his little belt, with Cas carrying a tray of lemonade.
âPapa said I could help,â Jack said, crashing into Deanâs leg and latching on.
Running his fingers through Jackâs hair, Dean crouched down until he was level with Jack. âHave you got your tools?â
âYes,â Jack grinned, brandishing his little plastic hammer with a proud salute.
Glancing up, Dean locked eyes with Cas, who gave him the most smitten look heâd ever seen. Dean nodded his head, and Cas swooped in to scoop Jack up into his arms, which made Jack scream with laughter.
âAlright Squirt, letâs get to work,â Dean said once Cas had safely boosted Jack up onto the lowest branch. The former-angelâs hands never left Jackâs back; a constant bracket of support as they started to put together the floor of the treehouse.
Days merged into weeks of work. Each afternoon, Jack all but begged to work on the structure; tugging Deanâs hand or pulling at Casâ leg to get their attention. âPapa, please. Treehouse time,â Jack whined as he wrapped his hand around Casâ finger until he coaxed them all back outside into the yard.
Dean had been so sure Jack would get bored, even going so far as telling Cas in bed that first night that Jack would lose interest in helping within a couple days. But instead it was the opposite.
Jack walked around all day with his toy-belt of tools; constantly ready to hand Dean whatever tool was needed.
âHand me the hammer, kiddo,â Dean would say from halfway up the tree. Jack happily pulled his hammer from the belt at the same time Cas offered Dean a real hammer. Dean would pretend to use Jackâs toy one first, before quietly sneaking in the real one to knock the wood into place. Dean often hoisted Jack into his lap and let the toddler tap his plastic hammer against the wood, pretending Jack had gotten the boards into place.
âHand Daddy the wrench, sweetheart,â Cas instructed after one of their many breaks of sitting on the porch with glasses of lemonade or juice, utterly beaming at their son as Jack placed the toy into Deanâs outstretched hand.
Slowly but surely, day by day, the treehouse started to take shape. On the final day of construction, Cas took Jack out to get some small chairs and a table to go inside the house while Dean completed the finishing touches.
There was one last thing that needed doing, and Dean couldnât wait for his family to come home and make the house their own. Heâd spent the last week in the garage at night creating a tool Jack could use instead of the knife that he and Cas could wield.
Finally, Jack came bounding outside with a little wooden chair in his hand while Cas carried a plastic table. âDaddy, look what Papa and I found,â Jack said with a grin.
âA table and chairs? Now we can have tea time in the treehouse,â Dean said, kissing Jack on the top of the head before turning to Cas. âGot a surprise for you both. I thought we could carve our names into the door. To make it ours. Made a special tool for Jack so he can do it himself and we can use my knife,â Dean said, wrapping his arms around Casâ waist.
Casâ hand stroked across Deanâs cheek tenderly. âDid you know I love you?â Cas murmured, leaning in to place a quick peck to Deanâs lips.
Suddenly, Jack was at their side, tugging at Deanâs arm and asking what the surprise was. Twenty minutes later, their names were carved into the door.
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