Sam Winchester walks up the familiar path to get to the front door of the Novak palace, hands deep in his pockets, enjoying the sunshine. He's excited to share the news of his impending proposal with Dean, who he's sure will be thrilled and supportive. Dean adores Jess, and the feeling is mutual.

He's just entered the door, nodding his thanks to the guard, when an unholy shriek from behind him has him stiffening.

"Uncle Sammy!"

He whirls and crouches, a smile already spreading across his face as his eldest niece, Claire, comes barreling towards him. She hits him like sixty pounds of freight train and it's all he can do not to bowl over.

"Hi, Claire," he wheezes a little. "How's my princess today?"

Before she can answer, another wild call echoes through the halls, and Claire's younger sister Emma comes hurtling toward them. She hits Claire's back just as hard as Claire hit Sam, but Sam's a big guy, and he easily wraps both of his nieces up in his arms and stands.

"Sammy!" Emma cries, cuddling close to his big chest.

"Listen," Claire says urgently. "Listen, papa has been super busy, but daddy says we can have a picnic for lunch." Her big blue eyes are shining up at him, worried. "Do you think that's okay? That we have a picnic, even though we're princesses?"

Sam smiles. "Sure it is! All princesses should have picnic lunches."

Claire, the eldest Novak child at eight years old, is an earnest, serious child. She has dark hair and Castiel's worried eyes, but the genuine way she cares about every person around her is Dean all over. Sam should know, he's been hovered over by both Dean and Claire at the same time and he's willing to testify that it was identical mother henning going on.

Emma, on the other hand, is Dean remade over. She's a six-year-old blonde terror, with sparkling green eyes, an infectious laugh, and a streak for trouble that's a mile wide and just as vibrant as her father's. Sam loves all of his brother's children, of course, but he has a special place in his heart for Emma, as much as she reminds him of his big brother.

"Girls!"

Dean's tired voice brings Sam's attention to the door of the kitchen where his brother is standing, three-year-old Jack sitting on his hip and very solemnly chewing on his own chubby fist.

Dean is giving his daughters the stink eye. "Did you two attack your uncle?"

"No!" they chorus together, perfectly innocent.

Dean looks at Sam. "That true, Sammy?"

Sam's no snitch. "They were great, Dean."

Dean gives Sam the stink eye, too, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrays the smile he's fighting. "Yeah, I'm sure they were," he says dryly. "Come on out, we're setting up in the middle courtyard."

"Can I help?" Sam asks, following Dean through the kitchen.

Dean shakes his head. "Nah, Rufus has got everything already outside. We just gotta bring the brats." He bounces Jack on his hip, who gives a little hiccup of laughter before burying his face in his father's neck again, clearly uncomfortable.

"You're all right, kiddo," Dean murmurs as he leads all of them out into the summer sunshine again. "Don't you worry, your papa will be coming out for lunch soon."

Sam's eyebrows go up. "Cas is coming to lunch?"

Dean grins. "If he knows what's good for him." As they all settle on the checkered blanket in the middle of the courtyard, Dean says with studied casualness, "Cas knows better to leave his pregnant mate with his three pups all on his own."

Sam is nodding automatically, always on Dean's side, when his words finally sink in. "What?!"

Dean laughs and settles down onto his butt. Jack immediately crowds into his lap again, silent and tense until he can sit and lean back against Dean's chest. Emma and Claire sit between Sam and Dean, but they're embroiled in their own conversation, so this is clearly old news for them.

Sam is smiling so hard his face hurts. He adores his brother's children, and he knows Dean has always wanted a huge family. "Again?"

Dean smirks. "What can I say, Sammy? I'm irresistible."

"Indeed you are," says a deep, rough voice from behind Sam, although I feel compelled to argue that you are the instigator at least as often as I am."

Sam twists to see his brother-in-law, looking at least as tired as Dean does. He walks over and sits next to Dean, barely noticing Jack scrambling into his lap as he leans over to press a kiss to Dean's cheek.

"How are you feeling?" he murmurs, almost too low for Sam to hear.

"I'm all right, alpha," Dean says just as softly. "Just a little morning sickness, nothing I didn't get with the first three."

The obvious care radiating from Cas is almost painful to witness. It's hard to believe that there was a time when Sam was worried about Dean being taken advantage of, worried about him being hurt or used. It's clear to anyone who bothers to look at them that they're still crazy about one another all these years later.

When Cas was crowned King, Sam knows he was a nervous wreck for weeks. Dean, on the other hand, was confident that Cas would grow into his own and figure it out, and Dean was right. Dean was right as hell (and is smug as hell about it now). Castiel is widely acknowledged as one of the fairest, most open-minded rulers the country has ever seen. Not everyone likes it, of course, and there are whispers of a rebellion every once in a while, but it's nothing like when Bartholomew ruled, and those rumors are taken seriously and ruthlessly shut down by the authorities.

Dean, too, took to ruling like a duck to water. Because he was an omega, and the rule isn't quite what it should be yet, he tended to focus less on politics and more on charity, but Dean seemed to be all right with it. Especially after Claire was born and he could take her with him, be a visible parent who had worries and fears and a difficult baby just like every other parent did, the entire kingdom fell in love with him.

Through it all, Dean and Castiel are still wildly in love. Every move Castiel makes is with Dean in mind. Dean is the center point around which Castiel rotates, always coming back to him, to the home and family they created together. Out of the ashes of a horrible choice and a desperate decision by a scared, too-young omega, they have managed to create a fairy tale.

It's everything Sam has ever wanted for his big brother. Hell, it's everything Sam has ever wanted for himself.

But that doesn't mean he wants to see it.

He grabs a grape from the basket sitting next to him and throws it across the blanket where it hits Dean in the cheek.

"Hey, you two. Cut it out, we're trying to eat over here."

The double glare he gets is totally worth the peals of laughter he gets from his nieces.