A/N: Don't ask me where this fic came from because I have no idea. The muse must have eaten some questionable mushrooms. 0_o

Some warnings up front:

1. First chapter picks up where the season 12 finale left off, so major character death has happened.

2. This is not really a "fix-it" fic. I wanted it to be when I first started, but that's not what ended up happening in this story. "Our Cas" is not magically coming back. However, I think it still ends on a happy-ish note. Maybe a bittersweet one. But also hopeful.

And there will be lots of adorable kid!Cas to break up the major angst.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Thank you to Miyth for always indulging me talking about fic ideas, even when they're crazy, and to 29Pieces for beta reading, even when it's heartbreaking!

Chapter 1

Dean couldn't feel his legs. He should move, get up…do something. But he just kept staring at Cas's face, lax in death. Dean had seen him like this only once before, three years ago in that reaper's apartment, Cas tied to a chair and then stabbed. Just like now.

Except this time was different. There were ashy wing prints seared into the ground, and somehow that made this death, out of all the others, seem more permanent.

But it couldn't be. Not after everything. Not like this.

Dean wanted to reach out and grab the lapels of Cas's coat, wanted to shake him and yell that he get his feathery ass back here. Because Cas always came back. Dean had been here before, had watched a Leviathan-possessed Castiel walk into a reservoir and disappear, had assumed he was dead. He came back, though. He always came back.

But there hadn't been wing prints that time, or a body left behind. This- this…

There was a burst of light from the house, a whomp on the air, and Dean jolted. He blinked, realizing that Sam wasn't beside him anymore.

No, no, not Sammy too.

Dean staggered to his feet and took an unsteady step toward the house, only to stop as something shifted in the shadows along the siding. Dark ivy was rapidly crawling up the exterior of the house like it was on steroids. Fuchsia florets exploded in a cascading wave, each individual flower blossoming with a spark of golden light as they went, like fairies bursting from cocoons. Dean could only stand there, staring stupidly.

The back door banged open as Sam came barreling out, looking harried. He opened his mouth as though to say something, but stopped when he caught Dean's gaze, and then he whirled back toward the house. His stupor only lasted a second, though, before he was turning to Dean again.

"The nephilim," Sam gasped. "It- it's fully grown."

Dean couldn't take his eyes off the lush ivy, mesmerized for a moment at how so much beauty could be thriving at the site of so much death.

"Dean."

He started. "It doing this?" he asked, voice gravelly, and he nodded to the house being draped in purple blossoms. That wasn't normal.

"I don't know. He disappeared right after I found him. I have no idea where he's gone."

Good riddance.

Dean knew he shouldn't think that, knew that this baby-God was most likely a threat to the world, but he couldn't bring himself to care about that now; he was still too numb.

The air felt heavy, cloying, almost musky with magic. Something cracked behind them, and Dean turned to see golden ripples shimmering across the lake. The faint glow illuminated the churning water as it rapidly turned to ice. Yeah, bring on the end of the world.

But the earth didn't split and the sky didn't fracture. A blue ember winked into existence centimeters from Dean's face, and he jerked away. There was a rustle like a breeze through leaves, yet there was no wind.

Another blue spark flickered in the dark, then another. Soon there were dozens of azure specks floating in the air, across the ground, and all around them. Most…most were concentrated near Cas's body. The scattered remnants of stardust being pulled back together.

The embers trickled along the ground and down from the air, all converging in a single spot a few feet away. Dean held his breath, one name a desperate, unspoken prayer on his lips.

The sapphire specks began to collide, and each time they did, a golden thread zinged across them, binding them together. The gossamer aura grew more condensed, and as it did the light grew brighter, until Dean had to shield his eyes from the intensity.

The air crinkled, almost too thick to breathe, and Dean felt magic prickle across the hairs on the back of his neck.

Then the light faded, and Dean lowered his arm. He heard the gurgling cry of a baby in his ears before his eyes registered what he was seeing. On the ground where that energy had coalesced into…something, was now a squalling infant. Its face scrunched up as its wails increased, tiny limbs flailing in the cold exposure.

That was it; Dean had to be in some kind of bizarro world again. When they'd come back through the rift, it'd been to the wrong reality. And Cas hadn't really… Dean's gaze went to his friend, still on the ground, still pale and growing colder by the minute. The baby's cries grew more insistent, more high-pitched, shattering the sober tranquility of the night.

Sam finally moved forward, approaching the infant cautiously. He crouched down and tentatively reached out to touch it. Dean tensed.

The child let out a whimper, but stopped crying.

Sam sucked in a surprised gasp. "Dean." He flicked a bewildered look toward Cas, then back to the baby.

Dean frowned. The edges of what his brother must suddenly be thinking were just within Dean's grasp, but he refused to let himself go there, because no way. This was crazy.

Yet he couldn't stop himself from shuffling a couple of steps closer. And when he peered down at the infant…crystal blue eyes were gazing back up at him.

Dean stood there dumbly. No. No, it wasn't possible. Cas was lying dead just to his left. This baby had to be…had to be the nephilim or something. Except Sam said that kid was fully grown and already flown the coop. And the blue eyes, the dark hair…no, it didn't mean anything.

It started crying again, a raucous, discordant sound that grated on Dean's ears. Sam quickly shrugged out of his jacket and then wrapped the baby up snugly in it. With careful, ginger movements, he picked the infant up and cradled it in his arms. The thing instantly quieted now that it was warm and secure.

Sam raised a freaked-out look to Dean. "You don't think…?"

"How, Sam?" he retorted sharply. He knew he should be more unnerved than angry, but his emotions were a crackling maelstrom on the inside. "That's not…it can't be…" Dean jerked a hand toward where Cas's body was still lying on the ground, sooty ash from broken wings splayed out around him.

Sam clamped his mouth shut and glanced between Cas and this…whatever it was. "Okay, then what do we do?"

Dean desperately cast about for an answer, had several ready on his tongue. Mom was trapped with Lucifer in that mirror universe and they needed to get her back. The nephilim was on the loose and who knew how much havoc it would wreak. Cas was…they needed to bury him. And then there was this…

Dean cleared his throat. "There's a crib inside, right? Stick it there and help me—" His harsh tone cracked. "Help me with Cas," he ground out through a throat trying to close up completely.

Sam hesitated for a brief moment, but then ducked his gaze and started past Dean, carrying the baby into the house.

Dean turned to Cas again, and as the paralyzing shock of what happened finally began to fade, the tears welled up, blurring his vision. Dean tipped his head back to swallow them, breathed in sharply through his nose. The hot moisture burned his eyes.

Cas deserved a hunter's pyre. He was an honorary Winchester, after all. But Dean couldn't bring himself to even consider burning the body. Because there was still a chance Cas could come back. He always came back…

Dean's thoughts turned to the unexplained baby that had fallen in their laps, rather than the nephilim they'd been expecting. And the way those blue embers had…

He wrenched himself away from that line of thought. No, that thing wasn't Cas, because if Cas were truly back, he'd be standing here next to Dean, giving him that pained, sympathetic look and promising that they would find Mary together. Maybe even promising to make it up to Dean that he'd died, after Dean told him never to do that again. Hell, maybe Cas would get up, shake off death like in the past, and then immediately run after his baby-God. Dean thought he could maybe even take that happening, as long as Cas was alive, as long as they had a chance to find him again.

Dean tore himself away and headed to the car to retrieve some shovels. There still was that chance. Cas didn't always come back right away. Maybe he just needed some time. Or maybe Dean could somehow convince Chuck to come back, or find a spell, something…

But an inkling in the back of his mind whispered that maybe it wasn't going to be that simple.

Sam stood over the mound of freshly sifted earth as dawn suffused through a pewter sky. It was a somber morning, heavy with the pall of grief. Sam stuffed his dirt-smeared hands in his pockets. They should find a marker of some kind…though nothing seemed appropriate. What mundane object was worthy as a memorial to an ethereal being like an angel? They- they should have burned him. That would have been a proper send-off, a respectful one that Cas deserved.

Sam understood why they hadn't, though. Kelly, also, was buried a few yards away.

A chill breeze off the still frozen lake in the middle of May pricked his eyes, making them sting and water. Or maybe that was everything else. The past week, all the people they'd lost…Sam was at his breaking point.

He worried his brother was already past his.

Sam slid a sidelong look toward Dean, who was a silent statue of granite beside him. He hadn't said a word through the digging, through the process of reverently wrapping up Cas's body and laying him to rest, of burying him in the warm embrace of earth as though it would keep him safe until…

Sam flicked an uncertain glance back at the house. He'd laid the baby boy in the crib, wrapped him warmly in a blanket that had been meant for another, and left him there while he and Dean saw to Cas. Sam was torn, though, torn between believing they really had just buried their best friend, and believing that somehow, Cas was still alive, still with them. How else to explain where that kid had come from? Those blue embers last night looked so much like pieces of an angel's grace.

But while part of Sam desperately hoped it was true, that Cas was alive, he honestly had no frickin' idea what they were supposed to do with a baby angel.

He waited for Dean to be the first to move, to break the throbbing bubble of grief and mourning they were suspended in. When he did, it was with a wordless turn back toward the house. Sam followed silently.

They went inside and up to the nursery that Cas and Kelly had readied for another child. The name "Jack" was painted on the wall, which gave Sam pause.

…it wasn't exactly what he'd expect for the harbinger of the end of the world to be called.

Maybe that had been Kelly's hope.

Dean went to the crib, shoulders visibly stiff, spine rigid. The baby was asleep. Sam moved to stand on the opposite side and gazed down at the infant. His nerves were a jittery mesh of confusion, hope, and fear, and he could only imagine Dean was feeling the same.

His brother finally cleared his throat. "We need to start looking for this Jack, see how much damage he's causing."

Sam swallowed hard. "What about…?"

"We don't even know if it is Cas," Dean retorted gruffly. "And even if it is…" Pain flashed across his face, and he reached up to run a weary hand down his jaw. "Shit, Sam, we can't…we gotta find a way to save Mom. And probably the world. We can't do that with a baby."

Sam's mouth pressed into a tight line. He knew that was true, but it didn't make his heart hurt any less. "Yeah, you're right. Um." He wracked his brain for options, because if this was Cas, however small a chance, they couldn't just drop him at a fire station or something. "What about Jody? Maybe she can take care of him until we…figure things out."

"Yeah, sure," Dean said brusquely, and turned to walk away, leaving Sam to deal with the infant.

Sam gazed down at the child for a long moment, and then ever so tentatively, reached into the crib to touch one tiny hand. I don't know if you can hear me, but…don't leave us.

There were baby supplies everywhere, from diapers to clothes. Cas and Kelly had stockpiled everything, it looked like. Too bad the baby they'd been expecting turned out to be some kind of mutant monster that was now running wild. At least the stuff wouldn't go to waste, Sam thought ruefully.

He opened a box of diapers and grabbed a onesie from the dresser, then proceeded to get the baby dressed. The jostling woke him, and for several moments he just gazed up at Sam with a curious look that made Sam think he maybe wasn't losing his mind with his theory.

But then the baby started to gurgle and mewl, kicking at Sam when he tried to wrap him in the blanket again.

"Um, what is it? What's wrong?" He fumbled with the edges of the blanket, anxiously stroked the infant's shoulder in an effort to be gentle and not break him. But none of his soothing attempts worked.

Sam threw a look toward the door, wishing Dean would come back. He was the one who had more practice with taking care of babies. But his brother was having a hard enough time dealing with everything, and Sam didn't completely begrudge him for it. But he still didn't know what to do.

His gaze landed on some formula stacked neatly in a row atop the dresser. "Are you hungry?" he asked over the growing wailing. Obviously, he didn't get a confirmation, except for the continued crying.

"Um, okay, I'll be right back."

Sam took the formula downstairs to the kitchen and hastily read the instructions for mixing and warming it up. The container only gave a recommended temperature, though, and not how much time he should put it in the microwave for. And he wasn't exactly going to make it over the stove with a thermometer.

He found a baby bottle and mixed the powdered formula with water, then stuck it in the microwave and guessed at how long it needed to nuke for. Once done, he took it out and turned around, only to find Dean in the doorway, watching him with an almost detached look.

"Um, I think he's hungry. But we're almost ready to go. Oh, and we should pack up all the baby supplies so Jody doesn't have to buy stuff," Sam said.

"Yeah, sure." Dean finally pushed himself away from the door frame. "You test the temperature?"

Sam glanced at the bottle. "Yeah, it's warm."

Dean gestured for him to hand it over, so he did. Sam didn't take offense as Dean squirted some of the liquid onto his forearm.

He shook his head. "It's too hot. You have to be careful with the temperature. Babies are more sensitive."

Sam took a step back as Dean went to mix up a new batch. He watched his brother go about it like it was second nature; somehow, even after all these years, Dean remembered what it was like taking care of a little brother.

Dean squirted a few drops from the new bottle on his arm, then handed it to Sam. "I'll…go put the stuff in the car."

Sam dropped his gaze as Dean pushed past him and disappeared again. He didn't know what to say. Grief over losing someone was one thing, but dealing with the possibility that Cas wasn't really gone but they had no way of knowing…it just complicated things.

Sam went back upstairs and hurried to the crib where the baby was still crying. As soon as the bottle was in his mouth, he instantly quieted and started to suckle. Sam sighed in relief.

Dean came in a few minutes later and asked if there was anything from the nursery they should grab. Sam mentioned clothes, and the obvious diapers.

"I already grabbed six boxes from downstairs," Dean replied, eyeing the ones upstairs. Something like dark amusement flitted through his eyes, but he didn't share the thought, just went about opening dresser drawers and shoving baby clothes into a bag while Sam finished feeding the child.

Sam rubbed his hands on his jeans. "Okay, um, here we go." He gently lifted the kid out of the crib and into his arms, careful to support the back of his head. Sam remembered from somewhere that was important.

He brought the kid downstairs where Dean was waiting, and then without a word, they headed for the Impala. Sam gingerly eased himself into the passenger seat, then readjusted his hold to cradle the infant in his arms.

Dean slipped behind the wheel and started up the engine with a raucous rumble. Sam briefly wondered if the noise would scare the baby, but the kid didn't react. It was going to be a long drive to Sioux Falls, though.

Cas started fussing after an hour. Sam tried to rock him as best he could in the confines of the car—and was struck with how easily he fell into thinking of this baby as Cas. But every time Sam looked down into those striking blue eyes, he couldn't not think it. Some way, somehow, this had to be a miracle.

He glanced at Dean, trying to gauge his brother's mood. They were both still raw and reeling from everything that had happened, from losing Mom so suddenly again, from watching Cas die right in front of them. But they needed to start figuring things out.

"I've been thinking about what happened," Sam spoke up carefully. "The nephilim's power was leaking or something, right? That's how the rift got opened in the first place."

"You thinking he's our key to getting Mom back?" Dean asked.

Sam paused. That was a potential course of action on that front. "Maybe. But, at the end there, with the weird stuff at the house right after he was born…it was like his power was flooding the area."

"And?"

Sam looked down at the infant sleeping in his arms. "And maybe somehow it…brought Cas back."

Dean snorted. "It didn't bring Cas back."

Sam winced. "Not- not like that, no. But…" He knitted his brows together in thought. "Remember Anna? When she cut out her grace and fell, and was reborn as a human? Maybe- maybe that's kind of what happened here. Obviously not exactly the same, because Cas didn't—" Sam abruptly cut off and briefly looked out the window to swallow back tears. He finally turned back. "I don't know how else to explain it."

Dean was silent for several moments. "So you think he's human now? That…" He flicked a glance at the baby. "Is human?"

Sam frowned. "I don't know. I think that was Cas's grace coming together."

But there were still wing prints on the ground, so did that mean he was still an angel? If he was reborn, would he get new wings too?

Sam shook his head in frustration. They really had no way of knowing. And feeling utterly helpless and at a loss was pretty much just as bad as if Cas was truly dead and gone forever.

Because Dean was right—what if it meant they wouldn't be getting their Cas back…