Rating: PG13.
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing(s): Dean/Castiel
Warnings: MPREG baby, slash, possible English mistakes, and the still ever present angel!whump
Spoilers: none.
A/N: Still not as fast as I had hoped, but I finished it in under two weeks, so yay! Man, I should complain about not getting feedback more often. You guys were on fire with those reviews for last chapter! Thanks so much! Seriously, I really, really appreciate it. :) In other news, I've just reached 10,000 hits for this story, which is fucking awesome! So thank you guys so much for all your support. To be completely honest, I probably would have abandoned this story along time ago if it weren't for all you lovelies and the wonderful things you say. You guys are seriously the best! So thank you. That's about all I have to say, so I'll let you get to your new chapter! I tried to incorporate some cute moments with the baby, since a lot of people were asking for that, so hope you all enjoy! Thanks for reading :)
Dean wishes, the moment the words leave his mouth, that he hadn't said anything.
Castiel stiffens, eyes wide and fearful, his breaths quickly becoming desperate gasping for air.
"Cas! Cas, calm down! You're gonna hurt yourself again!"
"Dean," he breathes out, now coughing slightly, dotting his hand with small flecks of blood, "Dean, they've been suffocating my grace… they are trying to kill me."
"Cas, you've gotta calm down!"
The angel shakes his head.
"No. Dean, it's them. They are restoring the damage done to my vessel; they - they are going to exhaust my grace until it is so tired it will just… go out. They are going to-"
"Shut up, Cas! Don't you fucking talk like that. They are not going to kill you, you understand me? No one is gonna lay a fucking finger on you."
"But, Dean-"
"Dammit, no 'but's, Cas. How many times do I have to tell you? I am not giving you up for anything - either one of you, you hear me? You should fucking know that by now."
"Dean," the angel pleas, "If they were to succeed, what do you think would happen to Matthias?"
He looks down at the baby who is now awake and watching with wide eyes.
"You saw how he was when we were separated," Castiel continues, "I can't bring myself to think of what would happen if that separation were to be permanent… if I were to be-"
"Cas! I said shut up!" Dean snaps.
Matthias begins to whimper at his father's raised voice.
"Dammit," the hunter whispers under his breath, then looks back at Cas, "Can you walk?"
Castiel assesses himself.
"For a short distance, I believe so. Why would I need to-"
"They have to be able to see you, right? If they're gonna hurt you?"
The angel watches him curiously.
"Yes."
"Get up. We're going home."
Cas is a bit shaky walking on his own, but they get out of the hospital without so much as a single disturbance.
He's pretty tired by the time they reach the car, leaning against the door and closing his eyes while Dean straps the baby into his seat.
The drive home is silent, aside from Matthias' quiet fussing in the back, probably because Cas is exhausted, Dean notes, or maybe because he'd been feeling nauseous the whole way home, he later realises when his angel throws open the door and pukes in the driveway upon their arrival. He sits with his head between his knees as Dean gets Matthias out of his seat.
The hunter comes around and steadies Cas with his free hand, helping him stand.
"C'mon, buddy. We're almost there."
Castiel leans against him heavily, stumbling a bit here and there, but they somehow manage to make it into the house and up the stairs to their room.
Once he's able to set Matthias down, Dean undresses his angel, removing his coat and replacing that stupid hospital attire with one of his own comfortably worn AC/DC shirts before putting him in bed.
"Dean, they're going to find us," the angel protests, words slurring as he tries to get up.
The hunter pushes him back down and takes a seat beside him, holding Matthias where they can both see him.
"They aren't just going to disappear, Dean," he tries, "They will find us… The sigils here will not remain effective with my strength declining; we can hide here, but we will not be able to keep them out when they find us."
Dean brushes the unruly mess of hair from his angel's face.
"Cas, don't think about any of that. We're all okay, and you need to rest right now."
"But-"
"It's not gonna do us any good if you're still so sick you can hardly move," he continues, "It's only gonna get harder unless you can heal up a bit… so get some sleep. Me and Mattie will be right here."
Castiel looks up at the hunter questioningly.
"Dean, his name is not 'Mattie'."
The hunter smiles.
"Hey, he needs a nickname," he reasons with a small shrug, "Matthias is kind of a mouthful."
The angel seems to accept the explanation with a small, tired smile and decides to give in to Dean's requests, curling up beside him and sighing contently as he settles into the sheets.
"I will rest," he mumbles tiredly, "But only until my grace has been restored to an acceptable efficiency."
Dean supposes that's the best he'll get from his stubborn little angel.
"Promise you will wake me if something is wrong," he adds, his expression a saddening mix of concern and exhaustion.
"Promise," Dean assures, leaning over and brushing his angel's hair back as he places a soft kiss on his lips.
"Thank you," he slurs quietly, finally allowing his eyes fall to closed.
His breaths become deep and relaxed within minutes, and Dean is relieved to no end.
He sort of regrets not trying to get him to eat something first, but he isn't going to complain, because Castiel is finally sleeping and looking relaxed.
He passes time playing with Matthias, who is perfectly content to let his father poke at him and squish his cheeks; he even seems to be enjoying the attention. His peach fuzz hair, Dean discovers, is just as malleable as Castiel's, and it proves to be equally as entertaining.
He laughs quietly to himself when his son starts opening and closing his mouth like a fish. It's just plain cute an funny at first, but then Dean remembers reading that babies do that when they're hungry and spends the entire time he's making him a bottle tense and praying that Cas won't choose the two minutes he's not there to wake up.
He's relieved to come back to his angel still sleeping soundly, not appearing to have moved a muscle. He sits back down with Matthias, who is eagerly reaching his arms up in the general direction Dean is holding the bottle, still making fish like movements with his mouth.
"Just a sec, little guy," he says as he gets situated against the headboard, propping Matthias up where it's easier for him to eat.
Even after he's drained the bottle, he continues trying to suck from the empty plastic and resumes the persistent opening and closing of his mouth when Dean takes the bottle away.
"What, you want more?" he asks giving him a 'seriously?' look as if Matthias would understand what it meant, "I think you've had enough."
Dean tries to burp him after that, and half the baby formula he'd just consumed resurfaces on the hunter's shoulder.
Matthias smiles like he's proud of himself, and Dean wonders briefly if he's going to be one of those kids who likes to stick their fingers down their throat because seeing their froot loops again is apparently fucking hilarious.
He looks over at Cas again who's still sleeping like a rock. He's so still, he almost looks dead, but Dean can see the subtle rising and falling of his chest.
It scares him a bit that Cas is so far gone, but he supposes it's probably best while he's healing himself.
He doesn't really seem to be getting better either… Not that he's necessarily looking worse, but it's a bit concerning when it seems like he's frozen in time.
Dean really starts to worry when he sleeps past dinner time. The hunter, having yet to eat anything since he'd taken Cas to the hospital, settles for some cold pizza and half a tub of spaghetti that was in the fridge, trying (not so successfully) to simultaneously feed both himself and the baby. Only afterwards does he deem the method unproductive and more of a loss than a gain.
He hurries upstairs, back to his angel, suddenly wondering just how efficient Heaven's tracking methods are and how much time they have before those dicks figure out where they're hiding. He's been trying not to think about it, but the nagging question is finally wiggling its way to the surface of his mind.
They had never been able to find him and Sam easily, and with the sigils still keeping them hidden, they should be safe as long as they stay on the property… right?
That all seems logical, but Cas didn't seem to think that was the case.
The angel hasn't so much as twitched since he'd fallen asleep that morning. It's definitely starting to freak Dean out, and after he rocks an already drowsy Matthias until he falls the rest of the way to sleep and makes sure he's situated and cosy in his crib, he sits down beside his angel again and brushes a hand through his hair, pulling back in surprise when his fingers unexpectedly graze his ice cold skin, and that's all the confirmation Dean needs to be sure that something is very wrong.
"Cas," he tries to shake his angel awake, but he's entirely unresponsive, "Cas, you've gotta wake up, buddy; something's not right."
Still nothing.
"Cas, c'mon man," he pleads, shaking him harder.
The angel shifts slightly beneath the hunter's grip and slowly begins to crack open his eyes.
"Dean," he manages, voice quiet and hoarse, "I do not feel well. It is very cold in here."
"No, Cas, your body is freezing. What the hell is going on?"
Castiel is quiet for a long time.
"I feel very weak," he nearly whispers, completely ignoring the question.
"Cas, what's going on? It's not fucking normal to spontaneously go hypothermic when you're all wrapped up in blankets in a well heated room."
"I am aware, Dean. My grace has weakened greatly since-"
"What? Cas, you were supposed to be getting better, not worse!"
The angel takes in a shuddery breath, a layer of moisture now gathering on his brow.
"It is possible that my siblings have discovered a way to… manipulate the state of my physical and celestial forms through dream intervention, although it is more likely that they have planted something on me to moderate the draining of my energy," he says.
"What, you mean like some kind of angel parasite?"
Castiel curls up a bit tighter around himself.
"That… could be a somewhat accurate analogy," he decides, snuggling up, closer still, to Dean, "Whatever it is they are using to strain my grace… it is taking energy in whatever form it can get it…which I suppose would be heat in this case," the angel adds to clarify.
He rests his head against Dean's side, enjoying the hunter's warmth, then tenses suddenly.
"Dean," he chokes, now holding his stomach and struggling to take in air.
"Cas, what's the matter?"
"Dean, it - it hurts."
The hunter sits up, leaning over his angel worriedly.
"Cas, what hurts?" he asks, working much too hard to keep his voice level and calm.
The angel is too busy trying to get his lungs functioning to respond.
"What's hurting, Cas? You've gotta tell me; I can't help you if you don't tell me," Dean pleads.
Castiel weakly props himself up a bit with one arm, his expression deeply pained. He spares a glance at Dean before leaning over the edge of the bed and puking some kind of glowing blue liquid that hits the ground but doesn't soak into the carpet, just sits on top of it like oil on water. It continues to glow for a brief moment before the soft light fades, leaving behind a clear substance that quickly evaporates to nothing.
"Cas, what - what the hell was that?" the hunter stammers, no longer able to hold the fear out of his voice.
Castiel, now collapsed in a weak little puddle looks at Dean, both apologetic and afraid.
"That was… part of my grace," he manages, quiet and ashamed, "Dean, I cannot heal myself. I am… too damaged."
He glances sadly at Matthias still sleeping in his crib.
"Dean, you will have to find a substitute for my grace. He still requires such energies to sustain himself. Your soul alone will likely be sufficient if you just keep him close by… He will most likely be almost entirely human and not develop any angelic powers or tendencies… if that is how you so choose to-"
"Cas, what the hell are you talking about?" the hunter states more than asks, knowing full well what the answer is. He's angry. He can feel a lump forming in his throat.
"Dean, I am not going to survive this."
"Bullshit!" he calls, eyes watering, "I am not gonna let you die."
"Dean-"
"No. You've got a kid to raise and a fucking life to live; you are not dying like this. I don't care if it's dangerous; Cas, you're gonna touch my fucking soul or whatever the hell it takes, and you're gonna be okay."
"Dean, the risk-"
"I don't care. Just do it. I don't fucking care."
Castiel sits up with a good deal of effort, moving towards Dean, but he hesitates. He hesitates a moment too long, and suddenly there's more blue light spilling from him and quickly dissolving into the world.
"Cas, c'mon," Dean urges, "Before you get any worse."
He can hear Matthias, now awake, beginning to whimper from his crib. Castiel makes up his mind.
"I would suggest you lay back and brace yourself," the angel warns.
"Check and check," Dean notes, laying back against the pillows propped up on the headboard.
"You are sure of this?"
"Yes, Cas. Just do it already."
The angel nods, looking at him apologetically as he carefully reaches a hand inside him, light escaping from the cracks between them.
Matthias' distress has escalated, and he's screaming now, scared and upset.
Dean's face is scrunched in pain as he tries, for the sake of both his son and his angel, not to yell out.
He succeeds for the most part, breath heavy as Castiel pulls his hand out and falls down beside him, looking tired but no longer sick.
"You good? Better?" Dean asks between breaths.
The angel nods.
"Much… thank you, Dean."
He gathers himself into a sitting position and pushes himself off the bed, his movements already much quicker and more alert, Dean notices.
He sits back down with Matthias in his arms, the baby's cries ceasing the moment he realises that both of his parents are okay.
"Hey there, buddy. Sorry we scared you," Dean says quietly as Castiel moves closer with their son.
Matthias sucks on his lower lip and stares at him, cheeks still flushed from crying.
He lays contently in the angel's arms, making faces that Dean finds very entertaining. Cas gently combs his fingers through his hair and rubs his little head. Matthias leans into the touch and cracks a crooked, toothless grin in response to the contact.
It's just them for now, no heaven, no hell, no emergencies, and everything is okay, even if it's only for a little while.
Dec. 7
Cas is doing significantly better. He isn't tired or getting sick, and he says his grace is healing well.
He has his first experience changing a poopy diaper (with Dean's supervision, of course), which takes about ten times longer than it should have, because 'the baby is very sensitive, Dean,' and Cas has to go about the process 'very gingerly,' so as not to irritate his skin.
"I don't understand how he can produce something so vile when all he consumes is powdered milk," he says in retrospect, eyeing the wrapped up diaper with disgust.
"It's just part of the miracle of life, Cas," Dean jokes, patting his angel on the shoulder as he stands to take the offending object to the bin outside.
Everything is going well, but there is a nagging fear present as they go about their day, about the other angels and whatever they're plotting. Cas says he's almost got enough juice to sustain the sigils around the property at full power, and pretty soon he'll be able to start healing his broken wing. They can't stay there forever though, and leaving will immediately put them at risk of being found. Not to mention, a life of running and hiding from heaven would not be any way to raise a child, or really a practical lifestyle for anyone, for that matter.
The obstacles and complications are mutually understood by the hunter and the angel, but they remain unspoken, a silent agreement between them to enjoy the time they're sharing now while there are no apparent actions available to be taken, and discuss the matter when it will not disrupt this opportunity they finally have to bond with their child.
It's snowing huge flakes after dinner that are illuminated by the lantern out on the porch. Their size and consistency is just like the ones that had been drifting down when Matthias was born, and Dean is reminded that he had promised they could show him the snow.
They bundle up - well, Dean bundles them all up. Matthias has a baby sized ski hat with a strip of a geometric pattern that wraps around it and a big puffball on top. It's still a little big on his head, but that really just makes it cuter.
His little fingers are completely covered up by the overly long sleeves of his nice warm footie pyjamas, and then he's wrapped in that ridiculously soft, fuzzy blanket again, as well as a couple more slightly larger but not quite so unbelievably soft blankets for good measure.
The large open area at the side of the house is a gorgeous plane of undisturbed snow.
Matthias is on sensory overload, looking very happy from his place in Castiel's arms, and radiating contentment, but unsure as to whether he should stare at the huge expanse of white across the yard or watch the giant falling pieces of it parading from the sky.
They stay out there for a while, Matthias simply content to watch and observe. He lays warm in Castiel's arms, and they both watch from the tire swing while Dean makes a small snowman and names it Chevy.
Matthias' little nose and cheeks are flushed and rosy by the time they're about to head in. Castiel's are much the same.
The angel gives Dean a turn with the baby, handing him over very carefully before they begin to walk back towards the house.
He's about to make a remark about how adorable the baby is right now, but is silenced by an unwelcome fluttering of wings.
"Give me the abomination," the corresponding voice demands, a serious tone about it.
It's the same angel that nearly killed Dean. Akriel.
"Neither you nor Dean Winchester should be alive right now," he says, almost angrily, "You have defied heaven in more ways than one. Now hand the child over, Castiel."
He's panicked; he feels his heart drop rapidly from his chest. This is not how today is supposed to end, not like this, anything but this.
"No."
"Hand over the abomination, Castiel, or you will die by my hand. It is property of heaven; you have no right to keep it."
Matthias is crying now.
"No. He is not anyone's 'property', and you may not take him," Castiel spits, seething.
"It is to be a weapon of heaven, Castiel, a very powerful and volatile weapon, and is of high value. You are still damaged, Castiel; you will not stand in my way."
Cas steps forward, standing as tall as he can make himself, still falling just short of equal to Akriel's vessel, but it doesn't matter, because the look in his eyes is deadly.
"I said no."
Akriel cocks his head at him, leaning slightly closer.
"Then you are choosing to die."
Akriel appears behind him, but Castiel is fast. He blocks the hit and barely misses the other angel's shoulder.
"Dean!" he calls, desperation taking both his voice and expression, "Take him inside!"
The hunter hesitates, looking worriedly at his angel.
"Now!" Castiel yells as he blocks another attempted hit, "Go!"
Dean reluctantly heads for the stairs, hand protecting Matthias' tiny head as his cries harder with each step he takes away from Cas.
Dean's heart stops when there is a bright light behind him. The twisting feeling in his gut makes it hard to breathe. He doesn't want to turn around because he has this horrible, painful feeling, and when Matthias screams like nothing he's ever heard, Dean knows.
He forces himself to look back, and physically feels his heart shatter.
Akriel is gone, and Castiel is lying on his back, snow kicked up around him and a visible impression of his wings like they've been drawn into the white with charcoal.
Dont hate me just yet. (;
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