#it also might be too much projection asfjakfhs so sorry about that

[chocolatecakecas]

Jack's Top 13 Summer Traxx (baby Jack ficlet +spotify playlist)

Dean's Top 13 Springsteen Traxx Cas' Top 13 Billy Joel Traxx

It was a warm Sunday afternoon. Dean always closed his mechanic shop on Sundays so he had at least one day off, as Cas insisted (ordered) he do when he first bought the place. So Dean would putter around in the driveway while he waited for Cas to return from his morning shift at the library, and then they'd all go out to lunch afterwards. Today though, Jack had opted to stay with Dean and "help" with Baby's weekly maintenance checkup. He was currently sitting in the front seat (keys not in the ignition of course) chattering away about everything and anything, while Dean attempted to scoop out some stray cheerios from the cracks in between the back bench.

"Dee where'd you get all the tapes anyway?" Jack questioned, suddenly stopping his explanation of the entire plot of the last Phineas and Ferb episode he watched.

Dean froze, heart leaping into his throat. He slowly turned his head towards the front, heart clenching at the sight.

(read the rest under the cut)

There was Jack, looking smaller than usual, as he's swallowed up by the passenger seat. The seat Dean spent the first twenty years of his life in, with that too big cardboard box, precariously balancing on his lap as he sifts through the cassettes. Llike Dean had done so many times before. He's got a blinding smile on his face, looking hopefully up at Dean.

Dean knew this day would come of course. Pretty much every second of Jack's life is filled with his music, hell there's one of his tapes playing on radio thats sitting in the grass. Plus, Jack's always got a question about pretty much everything under the sun, so he should have seen it coming sooner rather than later.

And now his four year old son anxiously awaits Dean's answer about that beat up cardboard box, held together by at least 3 rolls of duct tape, asking the same question he asked all those years ago. And Jack's beaming up at him like he's about to reveal all of world's secrets, and that's when Dean knows.

He knows he's already failed.

So with a heavy sigh, Dean climbed into the back, officially giving up on his cheerio mission, and carefully folded his arms across the top of the front bench.

"Well, most of them I've had for a long time, a lot of them I've bought myself, and a few of them are Uncle Sammy's-some are Daddy's and some of them I made for Daddy, or he made for me too" Dean replied evenly, easily avoiding any mention of his father (because he sure as hell isn't exposing details about John Winchester to his four year old), and praying that his heart doesn't hammer out of his chest. And he hopes to god that it was a sufficient answer, but if Jack's anything like Dean, and he is, he'll have numerous follow up questions. Because in Dean's opinion, Jack is too much like him already.

Because like Dean, Jack had loved music from the very start. From Dean humming Smoke on the Water being the only thing to soothe the crying infant, to the toddler becoming a little Matilda and making every friggin thing they own fly around the War Room to a Queen album. To Jack in the backseat screaming "words" somewhat similar to the lyrics of Dean's favorite songs, to jumping around in front of the tv as his favorite characters dance and sing on the screen, to dancing around the kitchen in their new home to Dean's tapes, or twirling around the living room to Cas' favorite records. All care free smiles, and laughter, spinning around to the beat.

And, Dean with hazy memories of his mother's Beatles records drifting through the halls, his parents dancing in the living room to Zeppelin, to hearing those same Zepp songs in the late hours of the night, as they floated from the Impala's radio. To his Dad's tapes rattling the car as he raced down an abandoned highway after a particularly bad hunt, to his Dad smiling when he asked about the contents of cardboard box one day. To Dean always carefully picking the right tapes, asking him to turn up the volume at the right times, gushing about the right guitar solos, anything to gain an approving smile from the driver's seat.

To him learning how to reclaim that box of plastic as his own, to struggling with separating the sound from the source. To understanding that his love for those songs, those albums, those tapes, are all his own. Which sounds ridiculous, but sometimes those kinda things are, because sometimes the littlest things are the hardest.

And those are things Dean never wants Jack to go through. He just wants his kid to enjoy the music he enjoys, no strings attached. And yes Jack's only four, but so was he at the time. And Jack already mimics Dean's actions and phrases, and has tried to dress like him on more than one occasion. So Dean's pretty sure his paranoia is justified.

Because he's alrea-

"Oh. I like them, especially the ones that make Baby all shakey" Jack nodded sagely, as he stares up at Dean like he hung the moon and the stars, gaging his response.

And so Dean knows, he's already failed. His son is only four and he's already seeking his approval. It's all too painfully familiar.

"Yeah buddy, I like them too.....but remember you ca-you can like whatev-you can listen to whichever songs make you ha-make you feel hap-" Dean struggles to get out, but he's cut short by tires crunching on the pavement.

"Da!" Jack screeches, and then he's out of the car, patiently waiting by the Impala until Cas turns off his own car, to launch himself into his arms.

Damnit-well not damnit because of course he's thrilled his husband his home, but he wante-needed to tell Jack that he didn't have to like Dean's music, or hell Cas' music, that he could be his own person. But maybe Jack will never bring it up again, and Dean didn't totally fai-

"Did you two have a good morning? Also I'm starving" Cas greeted, as he pressed a soft kiss to Dean's lips, which of course pulls a laugh from him.

"Hello to you too Sunshine, let's go eat" Dean chuckles with a fond eyeroll, but Cas' smile dips slightly as he takes in Dean's features.

Of course he can tell something's wrong, and maybe Dean will tell him later, but honestly he's kinda banking on Jack never discussing it again, so he'd rather not risk it.

"Alright Jack let's get you buckled in, Daddy is practically wasting away over here" Dean exaggeratedly calls out, causing Cas to swat at his arm, and thankfully get into the passenger seat without another word.

And lucky for Dean, the rest of the day passed pretty uneventfully. They got lunch at the usual place, they all tossed Jack's new giant frisbee around in the backyard and now Jack is helping Cas out in the garden, while Dean gets started on dinner, burgers like every Sunday. So maybe Jack asking about the tapes was a one time deal? Maybe he won-

"Dee I have a question" Jack asked, suddenly appearing in the kitchen doorway.

Damnit.

"Okay kiddo, why don't you sit down while I grab you some juice, you must be working hard out there" Dean stalls, but in his defense it is hot out and Jack's face is a little pink. Jack thankfully sits at the kitchen table and takes a big sip from the juice box Dean handed him.

"Ask away, Squirt" Dean urges with a slightly unsteady voice. His back is too Jack as he works on seasoning the ground beef.

"You said you made Daddy tapes and Daddy made you tapes? Like the Billy one Daddy gave you that you like?"

Yeah. Definitely not a one time deal then.

"Uh huh, Daddy did make me that one. And I made him a few too" Dean responds carefully, as he silently wills his heart rate to slow down.

"Ohhh. I want to make a special tape too"

And that was not what Dean was expecting. He quickly spins around to face Jack, who's sitting in his usual seat, legs swinging underneath him.

"Yeah, I asked Daddy and he said that you made him a tape, and that he made you some too. And he said that they were special, and had your favorite songs. And I want to make my favorite songs special too! And Daddy said if I ask nice, that you'd help me" Jack explained as he bounced up to sit on his knees.

Dean was frozen in place. Jack wants to make a mixtape, with his own favorite songs. That he likes, that he choses. Not Dean or Cas', just his own "special songs".

And Dean could cry from relief. Maybe he hadn't failed Jack. Because Jack really doesn't care about Dean or Cas' music, it's just about the tapes.

"Of course, bud. I'll help you make a list of your most special, favorite songs after dinner, sound good? But why don't you go finish helping Daddy plant those new flowers" Dean replied, feeling lighter than he had all day as he watched Jack skip back outside, throwing Dean an excited thank you.

And true to his word, after dinner Dean and Jack sat at the tiny table in his room, getting ready to pick his "special songs".

"Alright Squirt, what greatest hits are we starting with?" Dean smiled, grabbing a piece of paper and a blue marker from Jack's little desk.

"Toy Story and Pooh tummy" Jack declared and Dean quickly scribbled down the songs knowing exactly what he meant with a smile.

And there they sat, Jack rambling off song after song based upon some lyrics he sort of remembered, or simply the beat of the songs, Dean easily identifying most of them, but making note of the ones they'd have to research more later. Jack giggling in his seat every time Dean gives a wildly incorrect guess or names a song he knows Jack doesn't like.

Dean's feeling like an idiot for how much he panicked twice earlier. Damn, he really was paranoid for nothing because Jack hasn-

"And the one we dance in the kitchen with the heart? OH and the one on Da's record with the oh woah woah woahs?"

Fuck.

And just like that Dean's tossed back to this afternoon, heart racing, the fear of failure clawing it's way up his throat. Because he did. He did fail. God he's just like Jo-nope. Maybe not.

Because he would never try to fix it, but Dean would.

"Jack, buddy, it's your mixtape, you don't have to put our songs on there, bud. It's supposed to be all about yo-"

"But you said its gotta be my favorites? And they're special too?" Jack questioned with an all too familiar tilt of his head that would usually make Dean laugh, but instead caused him to take a sharp breath.

He has to fix this. Before it's too late, before Jack has to-

"Yes, they are special to me and Daddy, but it doesn't mean that you ha-"

"But I like them, because you and Da-"

No, he has to fix this. He can fix this

"Jack, you don't have to like them just because me and Daddy like them. You're allowed to hate the tapes and the records we listen to, because you can listen to whatever songs you want to" Dean somehow manages to choke out amidst his rising panic.

Dean failed. He failed. Jack likes those songs just because he thinks it'll make them happy. Jack doesn't deserve to think that. It's too familiar and Dean needs to shut it down, now. Before it's too late, before Jack starts believing that it's the only way to get their approval, get Dean's approval, before he starts loving those songs, before he grows up and starts to hate them and himself fo-

"I know that" Jack says matter of factly looking at Dean like he's an idiot.

And he freezes.

"I know, because I don't like that one on Da's record that's all slooooow, or the one you always play in Baby it's too yelly. And the one that Uncle Sammy sings really loud. But I like the one in the kitchen it's fun! And the woah-oh one Da always jumps with me" Jack continues simply, without a care in the world, but looking wise beyond his years.

Jack doesn't lik-no hates some of Dean's songs, he hates Cas' songs, hell he even hates some of Sam's.

So Dean didn't fail. He'd didn't damn his only son to years of self loathing and anger, at age four. He didn't fuck him up yet. And instead, helped him find a song, that they can both love together, without any strings attached, no expectations. No search for approval.

And Dean's just so-

"Oh can we have the one from Moana with the coconut?" Jack asked with a blinding smile as he leaned across the little table, Dean's heart clenching at the sight.

"Of course, Squirt. We can put whatever songs you'd like" Dean smiles, voice thick as he writes down Jack's latest suggestion.

And so after several wrong guesses, combing through an entire season of Phineas and Ferb looking for the correct song, and very serious sticker choosing process, "Jack's Top 13 Summer Traxx" made it's way into that beat up, old cardboard box.

And if Dean listened to nothing but that tape every single time Jack was in the car, for the next the next three months? Well that was nobody's business but his own.

Tag list pt 1:

@wormstacheangel @smiledean @shelikestv @chaoticdean @midnightwings-deancas @jellydeans @sunshine-jack @archervale @wikiangela @subbydean @organicpurplepants @you-cant-spell-subtext-without

@tkdwolf2012 @doemons-blog @sinnabonka @rolling-stoned-girl @skylerkernaghan @icefire149 @dakiaty @seffersonjtarship @feraldean @teamfreebees @keshetcas @jewishdeanwinchester @martymar1963 @midnight-sparks-studio @aestheticflyer26

@athenixrose @distortedlightbeamcastiel @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @winchester-novak @lyonessrampant @thiscowboyisbisexual @smokerdean @milfcodeddean @blue-eyed-cutiepatootie