Hi! Wow. Support in reviews has me rolling on the floor sqeeeing. Thank you all, you rock! This chapter is a little less eventful than most but I figured I needed a little gap between all the action.
But I have a lot of fun things to write about later! My next chapter features from Crowley's POV and what's going to happen to him. Thank you for that suggestion kb18142! Oh my god I fell in love with your suggestion. Like seriously I read it and the gears in my head were turning in .002 seconds. Plus I owe you for sticking with my writing for so long. Yes, don't think I've forgotten about your reviewing of "Heart of the Survivor" a long time ago (thanks girl) ;D!
Another little sneaky peeky, you say? Well, okay. We see what other fallen angels are up to, badass angels who are not child-like like Chuck's. They form a crew. At the head of this crew, my multi-fic readers? Soloviel. (( I felt bad for killing him. So he and Calcifer, who are in my head good friends, decided to do a little fic hopping together haha.))
Thanks for reading everyone! Really! :D
Dean nudged Cas's shoulder, which earned him a groggy moan and a turn over from the exhausted new dad.
"C'mon, Cas. It's almost eleven in the morning. Time to rise and shine." Dean nudged his shoulder again. "I promised I'd clean those cuts today, remember?" This earned an even more annoyed groan, and Dean laughed.
"C'mon, lazy. And I can finally show you have to shower properly today too."
...
Cas was frowning as he looked down at the pinkish-red stripe that stretched vertically down his forearm. It had barely healed, the black stitches emerging from his skin creeped him out a little. Anything black emerging from his skin since the Leviathan incedent creeped him out. Good thing Dean was taking them out.
"It takes so long," Cas spoke up sadly.
"What?" Dean asked, not breaking his concentration as he snipped at the next stitch and pulled it out. It hurt, but in a itchy relieving kind of way.
"Healing." Cas answered, feeling the slice from the mirror over his ribcage throb as well. His back pained him less every day, but it was still a minor annoyance.
"You're preaching to the quire." Dean told him, smiling just a little and shaking his head as he pulled the next stitch out. Boy, did he know about healing. He'd probably gotten more nicks and cuts than any other human being out there.
"I am only talking to you. And I didn't think I was preaching." Cas cocked his head to the side. "Oh. Metaphor."
Dean looked sadly at him. "I'm going to miss that when you learn all the metaphors, Cas."
The ex-angel smiled sadly back. He'd said when. He wondered how long Dean believed he'd be human for. Not like he could read his mind to find out anymore.
Dean pulled the last stitch out. The line was strange-looking. Cas was not used to seeing the aftermath of an injury, he usually healed things away. Cas hissed as Dean dabbed a cotton ball of hydrogen peroxide on it and it fizzled white.
"I just gotta clean it. Sorry." Dean wiped away the fizz and gently pressed pieces of gauze onto the line, winding around and around with brown ace bandage, holding the gauze in place.
"Be gentle with this arm, okay? No heavy lifting or anything. We don't want it to tear back up." Dean instructed him, patting his wrist gently.
"Will it leave a scar?" Cas asked, but felt stupid right when the phrase had left his mouth. Of course it was going to scar.
Dean's peridot eyes were sad as they flicked up and met Cas's eyes once again. "Yeah, it'll scar." His voice was soft.
"Your rib injury? Let's see that." Dean cleared his throat and changed the subject. Cas peeled off the bandages and let Dean deal with it. He preferred not to look at more stiches.
"I should get to the quadruplets soon." Cas spoke up, his voice almost misty. "They're going to be getting hungry again."
Dean pressed his lips together. "I've been meaning to ask about that, Cas. Why can't me or Sam or Kev help out with that? The whole energy thing?"
"Humans do not have the same harness over their own souls like angels do. Well, former angels." Cas started to explain, he was talking with a soft voice so that he wouldn't run out of breath. He tried to take shallow breaths so his ribcage wouldn't move too much when Dean was working on it.
"We knew our own grace, or soul substance, very well. We knew how to manipulate it to possess people. We knew how to give out our energy to heal or fly. So now, with human-sized souls...it is harder to do, but we still know our own souls. Humans do not." Cas continued to explain. He was thinking about Bobby, Io, Red and Leo again. He figured he would probably always have them in the back of his mind.
"Couldn't you teach us?" Dean asked, snipping and tugging, snipping and tugging.
"No." Cas explained. "Humans are blind to their own souls. They always have been. It takes a very long time for human ghosts to learn how to possess and manipulate, and they are purely made from soul substance. To learn in a body... it would take longer than triple a human's life span."
Dean frowned a little. "Oh. I guess that's too bad then, huh?" He wished he could help, he felt bad that Cas was so worn out all the time now.
Dean finally finished with his ribs but didn't dress it. "Shoot. I told you I was going to teach you how to shower today, right?"
Cas nodded. "Oh. Well, yes." He didn't want to admit to Dean, but he was nervous about showering. The porcelain floor was too smooth, and what if he slipped? And the water from a shower was so loud, from what he'd observed. Would that shooting water hurt? And what if he messed up with which bottles he was supposed to use? He would not be able to ask Dean about the bottles because he would be naked and it would be indecent for someone to see him naked.
Dean pressed his lips together in thought. "Well, I don't want to have to redo all that. And the cuts might sting if it has water pressure on it. I'll just run a bath." He decided, and indicated for Cas to hop up off the edge of the tub so he could reach the knobs.
"Last time though, okay? Sam laughed his ass off at me last time I told him I gave you a bath." Dean chuckled and the loud rush of water filled the bathroom.
Cas slipped on some swim trunks and Dean taught Cas about the bottles as he made sure to really scrub the shampoo deep into his hair to get him all clean.
Dean showed him the first bottle, saying that this one, called 'shampoo', was to wash your hair. He showed Cas a bar of soap and said it was for your body, and how to rub it on your skin until bubbles formed.
Dean told him to make sure to wash his armpits, chest and 'nether regions' especially with the soap. Cas did not know what a 'nether regions' was, but he felt Dean would not appreciate him asking. So he just mentally made a note to clean everywhere well.
Cas noticed Dean hadn't told him about the other bottle, so Cas asked about that. Dean told him that the other bottle 'Samantha' used only, because he had girl hair and this bottle was called 'conditioner.'
"Dean, what if I mix them up? I don't want girl hair." Cas said, genuinely concerned, as he examined the bottle with a critical eye, trying to commit to memory that 'conditioner' was for Sam's use only.
Dean laughed for a long time after that.
Cas was glad he didn't shower because even just pouring water gently over the healing skin over his ribs stung, and he liked that a bath was quiet and did not have loud, rushing water and that he got to sit down and and didn't have to be afraid of slipping. And he was glad that he made Dean laugh.
Cas wasn't angry like the first time he'd berated Dean for treating him like a child. He realized Dean really was only trying to help him. He was very kind about all of it. Cas knew he would be kind with his fledglings, and that made him happy too.
...
"Good morning, Chuck." Cas said happily, when they'd gone up to the man's door to drop by and get the fledglings fed well today on their way to the store. It had been almost a week since they last saw him, when he'd been a weepy mess.
Sam, Dean and Kevin hadn't told Cas about Chuck yet. Sam and Dean agreed that they would both sit down with him and explain, after Chuck began to adjust a little better. No doubt Cas, who spent such a long time searching, would not give Chuck time to adjust like they were doing now and would probably riddle him with question after question. Chuck needed some calm right now.
Baby Leo was strapped to Cas's chest in what used to be Eggy's baby carrier. Chuck smiled at Cas and then his eyes flicked down to the towheaded baby's round face. Leo's blue eyes were widened as he looked at Chuck with wonder, tiny pink lips hanging slightly ajar.
"Oh, isn't he a sweet little thing!" Chuck said happily, poking the tiny fat cheeks and laughing at the surprised look on the little one's face. "Please, come in." He opened the door all the way and escorted them to the living room, where four angels had been sitting and talking amongst each other, empty cups of coffee on the dining room table.
"How have you been, Chuck?" Sam asked when he saw that his friend was back on his feet and not a crying, gloomy mess like the last time they'd seen him.
Chuck nodded. "Good, Sam. I got two more angels since I last saw you guys." He reached out and pet a little ginger cat climbing on his couch, she arched her back and rasped out a purr.
"Out front looks great." Sam pointed out. "I didn't notice all those flowers before."
Cas grinned and rubbed the little orange cat's chin, and she pinched her eyes shut and purred louder. "That's because the flowers weren't here before. My angels, they like to garden." Chuck said with a tiny smile.
"Well, that's one way to get free home improvement." Sam laughed.
Chuck rubbed his forehead, looking a little overwhelmed. "You haven't even seen the backyard yet. If there's such things as overgardening that's definitely it. But if it keeps them happy, then I'll be happy." He smiled serenely and kept scratching the tiny cat's tiny white chin.
"How's the..uh..identity crisis?" Dean asked, and Chuck snorted out a laugh.
"I love that you would be the one to call it that," He was still chuckling.
"To be honest, not that much better. I mean, I've come to terms with these angels all being my kids. They sure act like it. It's just a little hard to imagine it's not just fifteen but fifteen hundred that are all mine." Chuck scratched the back of his head. "Not to mention all the humans..and all the..other stuff..I guess I'm not doing that well. I'm getting there. I hope."
Dean shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled. "You know, I don't mind God being a five-foot-eight scruffy little writer who lived at home with his cat. It's nicer than the big, booming-voice white-mile-long beard guy that I always imagined."
"That's a weird image." Chuck laughed. "I don't think I'd like that guy either."
Dean shrugged. "Eh. It's how the movies always show him. Or, well, I mean you."
Chuck blushed very red at this. "Please. Dean, I don't need reminding." He said nervously.
"Sorry," Dean clapped him on the back. "I keep forgetting you're not as stoked about this as I am."
"Well, enough about me." Chuck cleared his throat. "How are the little ones at your house?"
"It's good, Chuck." Dean finally smiled but didn't realize he was. "They were unexpected, of course. But not unwanted. Never unwanted. I think I'm falling in love with them."
Chuck was smiling at him. Dean was a little creeped out by how fatherly his expression was. Maybe he was adjusting a little better than he really said he was.
"I hope you're not mad that the last angels ever are being raised by, well, us." Dean shrugged. "They are your kids."
Chuck suddenly lost that expression from before, and his face dropped. "I don't mind, Dean." Chuck turned away, rubbing his forehead again like it was paining him.
"Everyone's my child now." Chuck said quietly, dejected.
An angel noticed his pain and stopped him, towering over him, and silently felt his forehead.
"I'm okay, Aziraphale, thank you." Chuck took the large hand off his forehead, squeezed it gently and reassuringly, and pushed farther into the house.
Dean waited with Kevin in the living room. He saw Chuck wander through the house, just in the short distance be confronted by several concerned angels. Chuck moved through the house, finally sitting on the back porch swing. And he was looking out at his, it was true, massively overgardened backyard. He was still sitting there when they had to leave.