Baby Blues

I feel like I don't get any shit done, in case of reading the ton of fanfics I saved up for so long, and just because I can't stop writing. Ah well. Here goes some Destiel domestic fluff. Because Destiel week. And stuff.

„She won't sleep, Dean," Cas said quietly but desperately when Dean padded into the room. It was only lit by a small night light plugged into the socket next to the door, and the shadows hid the light pink walls and the white furniture.

Dean flopped down onto the chair next to Cas' beanbag chair, the one they usually used to feed her during the night, and leaned forward. Over the high-pitched hiccups of the toddler, Dean kissed Cas shortly. She seemed confused to not be the center of attention for a moment and resolved to quiet, shaky sobs.

Gently, Dean placed his hands under her tiny arms and lifted her from Cas' chest. "Heya, little lady. Didn't we have a deal, huh?" he said, the toddler hanging in mid-air at his eye level. "C'mere," he added, cradling her against his neck while sitting down.

Cas' knee rested against his, and he sighed softly over the high-pitched screaming of the baby. "Don't worry, Cas," Dean said quietly. "It's normal for her age. She'll soon sleep through the night."

His husband's eyes were puffy and bloodshot. "I sincerely hope so," Cas answered.

"I can take a few days off from the garage and take care of her during the night, you know. So you wouldn't have to get up."

"No, it's fine, Dean," Cas said. "I mean, she's ours, and I want to take care of her just the way you do. Besides," he reached out to lay his hand on the child's head, stroking it softly. She went still immediately and turned her head to watch Cas' with big blue eyes. Eyes that reminded Dean so much of Cas', even though she wasn't their biological child.

"Besides, I still love our little screaming monster," Cas said with a tired smile.

"You hear that, MJ?" Dean whispered in her ear. "Papa loves you. Now come on, go to sleep." But when he began to rock her softly back and forth in his arms, she promptly cried again.

Cas sighed.

Dean stood up and paced through the room in a soothing rhythm. "Mary Joanna Winchester, you can not be hungry. Plus, I changed your diapers just before we got you to bed. I know there's nothing wrong," he said quietly to his daughter.

Cas got to his feet, and the dim light fell on his hand, making the narrow silver band shine for a split second. He couldn't suppress the happy smile tugging at the edges of his lips, and Cas reciprocated the motion quickly before he left the room. Absently, Dean followed him to the kitchen, with Mary's little arms still clinging around his neck and sobbing into his shoulder. She probably just had a nightmare, but she was too small to tell them that already.

After taking a glass of water from the tab, Cas turned around to lean at the counter. Despite the lack of sleep that bothered both of them lately, he still looked gorgeous in the pale moonlight falling through the windows. Dean leaned in to kiss him again, stealing a short, sweet peck. Then he reached his hand out for the glass of water and took a good mouthful, before he turned and entered the living room.

Cas was right there at his side, flopped down onto the couch so Dean could lay down and rest his head in Cas' lap. Mary – still crying – lay flat on Dean's chest, tiny arms and legs sprawled out to both sides. Dean's hand was resting on her back, holding her gently in place, stroking soothingly over her little body.

When Dean began to hum, Cas looked down at him and raised an eyebrow. "I don't know this song, what is it?"

"It's 'Hey Jude', what my mom used to sing to me when I was little," Dean answered with a smile and resumed humming the melody. The vibration of his chest seemed to lull Mary into sleep, judged by her eyelids which were falling shut repeatedly, and the increasingly longer pauses in her crying fits.

Dean relaxed into the warmth of Cas' lap and almost jumped when he felt his husband's fingers curl into his hair, massaging the skin there softly.

Then Cas began to hum along to him, picking up the melody, and Dean felt that familiar wave of affection roll through him. God, he loved this man to pieces. And his voice, even if it was just a hum now, was just as deep and rich as always, and complemented Dean's perfectly.

Mary was asleep within minutes, but Dean didn't want to get up. It was too comfortable like this.

Cas yawned. When Dean noticed it and looked up to him, he smiled down gently. Turning his head, Dean placed a short kiss on Cas' flat stomach and sighed.

"Let's get her to bed," Cas mouthed, pointing at their little daughter.

Dean nodded and lifted his head just enough so that Cas could get up and pick up Mary from his chest. He still hummed the melody of 'Hey Jude', when he left the room slowly towards Mary's bedroom. Dean followed him quietly and watched as Cas bent down to tuck her into the sheets, and pulled back after placing a kiss on her forehead.

He was ultimately happy at that moment. Dean knew he had the most wonderful husband in the world, and the sweetest daughter on top.

When Cas had stepped up to him, Dean reached for his hand to pull him into their own bedroom. The baby monitor was finally quiet. Thank god.

They fell exhausted onto the mattress, and Dean spread the duvet over both of them, legs and arms curling around Cas. Cas, the man he loved more than he could put to words. Cas, the man who lay his head down on Dean's chest just like little MJ had done before.

"Sleep tight, Dean," he said, leaning up to kiss him.

"You too, Cas," Dean answered, stealing another short kiss from his lips as he felt himself drift off to sleep.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

When Dean woke up, it was not in the same king-sized bed, and not with his arms around Cas.

Just a dream, then.

But it was a damn realistic one. He could still feel the tingle of happiness in his chest, and by god, that had felt good.

Dean's eyes searched the room and found Cas sleeping on a bed nearby, while he was laying on the couch a few feet away. Right. Cas was the healer he had found in Bobby's address book.

He smiled warily. They still had so much to do, so much to fix.

But at least he now had a goal. Something worth working and going into battle for.

Because when he looked at Cas now, sleeping so peacefully on the bed, lips slightly parted, he could still remember vividly how they felt and tasted on his. And he wanted nothing more than to feel that again.

So far. Should I continue it? I don't know. Ideas? Prompts? Another ficlet?