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"You're not nervous."
Taking his last few best man duties very seriously, Sean has just finished adjusting Dean's boutonnière when he makes this observation, one that makes Dean frown. "Why would I be nervous?" Nerves imply uncertainty. Fear. Dean has never been less afraid of anything in his life.
Sean smiles a tight smile that doesn't reach his eyes, even as he reaches up to run his fingers around the collar of his shirt before pulling at the hem of his jacket. If Dean didn't know better, he'd say Sean's suit doesn't fit him properly but he knows that's impossible. That suit was made to measure, just like Dean's was. "Because every person you know is waiting on the other side of that door and you're going to have to make a speech later?"
The penny drops, possibly a little slower than it should have but Dean has a lot on his mind today. "Is that projection I hear?" Sean grimaces but he doesn't deny it. Dean just shrugs. "I'm not nervous, son," he says. "I'm excited."
There's a beat of silence where Sean looks at him, like he can't believe those words just came out of Dean's mouth. Which Dean thinks is perfectly valid. Three short years ago, he would have thought the same thing.
A lot's changed since then, and only for the better.
Sean must see that too because his face transforms into a smile, a genuine one. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Dean shrugs again and, just for a moment, he's not standing in a hotel corridor about to walk up the aisle and into his future. He's standing on a dark hospital balcony, chill seeping into his bones from the cool night air, having just lived through one of the worst days of his life. A turning point, he realises, though he hadn't known it at the time, the night where his entire life changed, where a journey started that's about to reach its denouement before heading into a brand new adventure. "I'm exactly where I want to be."
Before Sean can reply to that - or make fun of him, which is far more likely - something over Dean's shoulder catches his attention, making his whole face, including his eyes, light up. Dean doesn't need to turn to know what he's going to see and he doesn't see as much as hear what's distracted Sean. There's a squeal and the sound of running footsteps and a rustle of material that sweeps by Dean and the next thing he knows Sean is scooping up his little sister whose arms are flung around his neck.
Dean doesn't even care that she's went straight to Sean. A daddy's girl through and through Rosie might be, but she absolutely worships the ground her big brother walks on. The feeling is mutual and any trace of trepidation has disappeared from Sean's body language now. "Look at you, Rosie-posie," he says. "You're so pretty."
Dean can't disagree. He got his wish, a daughter just like her mother, all creamy skin and big blue eyes. She's got the Archer hair though, sandy curls springing everywhere and, for today, mostly contained by little sparkly hair clips. Her dress is sleeveless and white, a sage green sash around the waist and acres of underskirt making it swish as she walks. It also puffs up, threatens to obscure her totally as Sean holds her but she still manages to stick her leg out, waggling one foot. "Look my shoes!" she announces and Sean is appropriately wowed at the silver sparkly slippers she shows him.
"I think I should get a pair like that," he says and the look Rosie gives him is so Hannah that Dean's heart aches.
"No!" There are seventeen syllables of scorn in that single word and all Dean and Sean can do is laugh.
"I think we all want a pair of shoes like that." Lizzie comes up behind Dean, her long bridesmaid's dress the same green as Rosie's sash. There's a knowing smile on her lips that might have something to do with the heels she's wearing. "They look super comfortable."
"We'll get you some for Christmas," Dean promises her and she just about manages to not roll her eyes. Instead, she teases him right back, going for what he's pretty sure everyone knows is his weak spot.
"Wait until you see her." Her eyes gleam with happiness as she grins at Rosie. "Doesn't Mommy look beautiful?"
Rosie's head nods so quickly that Deans surprised it doesn't fall off. "Mommy a princess," she announces to Dean, launching herself towards him, only Sean's quick reflexes and two years of big brother duty saving her from landing face first on the plush hotel carpet.
"So I have two princesses." He kisses her cheek as she nuzzles into him and, not for the first time in the last few years, Dean can't believe that this is his life. "You ready for your big moment?"
Rosie nods again and just then the wedding co-ordinator - which Dean had railed against but who he has to admit is worth her weight in gold - steps forward. "Sean, Lizzie, you're up."
Sean hugs Dean, kisses Rosie's cheek. "See you in a few minutes." He turns to Lizzie then, extends her his elbow with an exaggerated flourish. "Shall we?"
Lizzie shifts her bouquet to her left hand, slips her right into the crook of Sean's elbow. "We shall."
The co-ordinator opens the door to let them through and Dean catches of a glimpse of the rows of chairs, filled with their nearest and dearest. He takes a deep breath, waits until the door closes before he speaks to Rosie.
"You going to walk with Daddy?" he asks, because much as he wants to walk down the aisle with his daughter, he and Hannah have both agreed that if she gets stage fright in front of everyone, carrying her is a perfectly valid option. It wouldn't be the first time he's had to do that - there was one particular Saturday at Chicago Zoo where he'd been immensely grateful that he'd kept up his gym routine. "Show off those shoes?"
"Uh-huh." Rosie tilts her body down and Dean takes the hint. Placing her gently down beside him, he takes hold of her hand. "Give me a twirl," he says and Rosie giggles as she does so, her dress floating out around her. "You gonna dance with me later?" She doesn't wait til later, gives a little wiggle now and Dean laughs.
Just then, the door opens again. "Dean?"
He looks down at his daughter. "Ready, Rosie?" Keeping a careful hold of her hand, he begins the walk down the aisle. He had been more concerned than he'd let on to Hannah that she might get a little nervous, with all those eyes on her - put it this way, cute as she looks in that dress, he knows no one is looking at him. He should have known better though. Rosie knows everyone in this room, is smiling at them all, even waving at some of them and when she sees Sean standing at the top of the aisle, only Dean's hand on hers stops her from running towards him.
Then Dean is at the top of the aisle and the room stills. All eyes turn to the door and it seems to take an age before they open and everyone stands up.
And Dean forgets how to breathe.
Even before they got together, even before they made Rosie, Dean has been of the opinion that Hannah is a beautiful woman. Even before they were friends, even when he didn't trust her an inch, he thought that. The years in between have only intensified that feeling, dialysis and surgeries, baby scans and sleepless nights showing him her inner beauty, more than a match for the outer one.
Today though? Today she has surpassed herself.
Her hair, longer now than he's ever seen it, is styled into soft loose waves that frame her face. Those blue eyes that he loves to get lost in are locked on him, her lips curved into a smile that he'll never get tired of seeing. As for the dress... words fail him. A long column of white, slinky and form fitting, thin straps that leave her arms bare, she is a vision as she walks towards him on her father's arm.
Dean forgets how to breathe.
Later he'll think that he should have seen it coming. That moment where he's so lost in the moment, where his body goes slack as all the air seems to rush out of it, that's the moment where Rosie turns and, upon seeing her mother, lets out an audible gasp. That's the moment where an excitable two year old, who has form for never standing still, breaks away from her father's distracted hold and runs at a canter down the aisle where she flings her arms around Hannah's knees and hugs her.
There's a round of chuckles and "awws" and Hannah laughs too, extricating her right arm from the crook of her dad's elbow to lean down and hug Rosie. Dean sees her mouth moving, sees her point in his direction but Rosie shakes her head, lifts her hands in the universal sign for up. That's immediately followed by a little two step that Dean knows signals danger and he's all ready to go to his two girls and scoop Rosie up himself.
Mark Asher saves the day before he can.
"Allow me," he says, taking Hannah's bouquet from her left hand. Holding it firmly in his right, he nods at Rosie. "Go ahead."
Her hands free, Hannah scoops Rosie up and balances her on her hip and, with her dad holding her bouquet and his hand on her back, they continue their walk down the aisle. Once they reach Dean, Lizzie swoops in, takes the bouquet from her dad with a wink and Dean turns to Mark, shakes his hand.
"I'd tell you to take care of them," Mark says, "but I know I don't have to."
Dean inclines his head because it's true. Hannah and Rosie are the most important thing in his life, the reason he gets up in the morning. He would go to the literal ends of the earth for his girls and he's never made any secret of that fact.
Hannah knows that too. He sees that knowledge shining in her eyes as she looks up at him, standing at the altar still holding Rosie, whose head is resting on her mom's shoulder. "Hi," Hannah says softly, a gentle blush blooming on her cheeks. It makes her look even more beautiful.
"You look incredible," he tells her and the blush deepens. She goes to put Rosie down so that the little girl is standing between them but Rosie is shy suddenly, her hand tightening on Hannah's dress, a mutinous frown appearing on her face. It's another danger signal and, in his life to date, and definitely in the last three years, Dean has learned a thing or two about choosing his battles. "Leave her," he says. "I can take her if your arms get tired."
Hannah's smile is somewhere between wry and fond. Wry because they both know that he's the pushover parent. Fond because as much as he loves seeing her with Rosie, she loves seeing him with their daughter just as much. "It's not exactly traditional," she murmurs and all he can do is shake his head.
"Hannah, nothing about us has been traditional," he points out. "Why start now?"
Hannah's eyes crinkle as she smiles and, not for the first time, Dean falls in love all over again. "Let's get married," she says.
Dean thinks those are the greatest words he's ever heard.
But when he hears her say, "I do," those are even better.