Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise.

Challenges Listed at the Bottom

Word Count: 2242

Warning: Childbirth (non-graphic) and the anxieties of new parenthood


The Highs and Lows of Parenthood


"You should just take a picture of him and paint from that," Piers pointed out when Dean let out a long sigh.

Their dog—named Parker, because of Piers' epic love of Spiderman—had moved from where he'd been lying, ruining Dean's line of sight for his painting.

Dean snorted. "It's not the same. I think I have enough done to at least finish this one, though."

Piers grinned at him, but was soon distracted by a ding on his phone. Dean watched him go red and then quickly pale, and he put his paintbrush down.

"What's wrong?"

"I, ah…"

"Piers?"

"Melissa's pregnant. She sent me a picture of the test."

Dean felt a flicker of excitement, but it was quickly taken over by a wave of anxiety. He got up from his seat on suddenly shaky legs and crossed the living room to join Piers on the sofa, his eyes on the phone screen.

A clearly positive pregnancy test was pictured, and beneath it, two thumbs up emojis.

"Oh my god," Dean choked out.

Piers looked at him. "We're going to be parents."

Dean nodded, his mind reeling. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess we are. We're screwed."

"It's… well, it's like a little blob, isn't it?" Piers said, turning his head slightly to look at the grainy image on the small screen. "It's all smushed."

Melissa chuckled from where she was lying calmly on the bed. She seemed more interested in watching Piers and Dean than the sonogram.

The two men—soon to be fathers—were not calm. At all.

"That's our child," Dean murmured. "You can't call our child a blob."

"What else would you call it?" Piers asked, narrowing his eyes to see if it changed anything on the screen.

"Uh, a child," Dean pointed out, rolling his eyes.

"Would you like to hear the heartbeat?" the midwife asked, amusement clear on both her face and in her tone.

They nodded eagerly, and moments later the room was filled with a rhythmic, gentle thudding, along with a whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.

"Wow," Piers whispered. "That's our smush."

Dean could only nod.

"I brought a bottle of wine," Piers announced, when he returned with Parker from their evening walk. "And a lot of chocolate. I thought we could celebrate."

"We can't drink," Dean said, frowning.

Piers blinked. "Why not?"

"We're pregnant! You're not supposed to drink when you're pregnant!"

There was a long pause, and then Piers started laughing, clutching at his ribs. "I love you," he said eventually. "So, so much. Hun, we can drink, we're not physically carrying the baby."

Dean blinked and then flushed. "Right. I, uh, I knew that."

Handing over the bottle of wine—red, Dean's favourite kind—and two glasses, Piers cupped his cheek.

"Moments like these are why I married you."

"I feel like you need a university degree to be able to put this stuff together," Piers said when Dean checked on him, an hour after he'd disappeared into what would be the nursery.

There were pieces of wood, screws, tools and instructions strewn all over the floor, and Piers was sitting in the middle of it, sweat beading at his temple.

"I don't know why you don't let me do it," Dean said, shaking his head. "I could literally have it all together in five minutes."

Piers sighed. "I know your magic is helpful, babe, but I just… I guess I figured this was something I should do by hand. For our baby. You know?"

Dean nodded, carefully making his way across the room. "At least let me help? No magic, I promise."

Piers smiled and accepted the offered kiss. "I'd love that."

"Do you want to know the sex?"

Dean bit his lip, because yes, yes he did, but Piers didn't, and Dean knew that he couldn't find out without his husband.

Piers seemed to know what was going through his mind because he reached out and squeezed Dean's hand. "If this is important to you, we can find out."

For a moment, Dean thought about nodding, but in the end, he shook his head. "It's fine. I know you want to be surprised."

Piers smiled at him and then looked back at the midwife. "We're going to wait."

Dean cursed the traffic loudly, speeding off as soon as the car in front of him turned down a street. Given the choice, he'd have Apparated straight to the hospital, but they needed the car to bring their child home.

Piers sat beside him, his hand on Dean's thigh. "We'll get there, sweetheart," he comforted, though the grip he had on Dean was so tight it was borderline painful.

"I know," Dean grunted. "Or we will if this arsehole gets out of my way!"

He blasted the horn three times, and when the driver in front pulled over, Dean sped past him.

(Later, they'd receive two speeding tickets through the post, and Dean would pay them both happily.)

They sat outside the birthing room, listening to Melissa's pain. Privately, both of them were somewhat glad that they weren't in the room with her, though they would go if she asked for them.

After an eternity, or perhaps only a few hours, a cry rent the air, and Dean's heart stopped in his chest for a moment.

That was his baby.

Just a few minutes later, the doors were open and they were being invited into the suite. Melissa smiled at them both, tired but clearly happy, and Dean took a moment to go over and hug her, whispering his gratitude in her ear.

When he stood back up and turned, he saw Piers with a bundle in his arms, wrapped in a cotton-candy-coloured blanket.

Piers looked up to meet his eyes and smiled. "We have a daughter."

Dean wondered if control was an illusion. He wanted to believe he could be a good parent, but as Annabelle cried, he thought that maybe he couldn't.

Maybe he just wasn't made for it.

Piers seemed to have taken to it like a duck to water, but Dean really hadn't. Oh, he loved her—he didn't realise that devotion could be quite so strong, but she'd proven him thoroughly wrong—but he didn't know how to look after her.

"Shh, baby," he murmured, rocking her in his arms. "Daddy is coming with your bottle."

His voice quieted her for a moment, but when the screams started again, they seemed to be even louder.

Piers came back with the bottle, and Dean felt guilty about how grateful he was when Piers held his arms out for the little girl.

"Where the hell have you been?" Piers asked, his voice a hissed shout so he didn't wake Annabelle.

Dean looked down at the dog and lead, and shrugged. "Walking Parker."

"For four hours?"

"We stopped in the park," Dean replied. He let Parker off his lead and put it on the hanger it lived on when not in use. "Why does it matter anyway? It's not like you need me here."

Piers blinked at him. "What?"

Dean sighed. "It's not like I'm any help, is it? I don't know what I'm doing with her, and you just… you just seem so much better at it then me."

Piers paused. "Why didn't you tell me you were feeling like that?" he asked, reaching out to tug Dean closer.

Dean allowed Piers to pull him over to the sofa and then down onto it. He leant into the welcoming embrace of his husband. "I didn't want you to feel bad for me. You've got enough on your plate."

Piers ran a hand through Dean's short hair. "I always have time for you. Especially for something like this. You know I don't know what I'm doing any more than you do, right?"

"She doesn't cry as much for you," Dean pointed out. He knew he sounded childish, but he was tired and scared and guilty, and he didn't know what to do with any of it.

"Mostly because you normally hold her while I get the things she needs," Piers pointed out. "Dean… we can do this, you know? But we have to do it together, and we can only do the best we can do. Nobody expects more than that. I certainly don't expect you to be perfect."

Dean nodded, pressing his face against Piers' chest. "I know, I know. I just… I guess I thought I was letting you down."

Piers cupped his cheek and guided his head up so they were looking at each other. "You never could."

"What in the whole fuck is that?"

Dean looked up from where he was changing Annabelle's nappy and then around, to see if he could see what Piers was looking at.

Except he was looking at Dean.

"What?"

"You have a fishbowl on your head," Piers pointed out.

Dean suddenly realised what Piers meant, and he snorted. "Oh. Well, uh. She doesn't smell so good."

He'd realised that casting a bubble-head charm protected him from inhaling the truly horrific smells Annabelle could produce in her nappies. Piers could only shake his head, but it didn't take long for him to start laughing.

"You know, sometimes, I really wish I had magic too."

"Uh. Thanks?" Dean said, when Seamus handed over a potted sunflower.

Seamus snorted. "It's a traditional gift for new parents. I also brought fun clothes for the kid, you'll love them."

"Are they Muggle friendly?" Dean asked.

Seamus shook his head. "Absolutely not. But still fun, which is what counts."

Dean was just placing the sunflower on the kitchen windowsill when the baby monitor crackled, quickly followed by whimpers.

"I'll be back in a sec," he said, quickly heading up the stairs towards the nursery. Since he'd spoken to Piers about how he was feeling, things had started to turn around. He spent more time with her alone, and it had proven to him that he could look after her.

She settled in his arms almost immediately when he picked her up, and grabbing her favourite toy from the cot, he made his way back downstairs to his best friend.

"Oh, she's cute!" Seamus announced when he saw her. "Can I hold her?"

Dean handed her off carefully and flicked on the kettle. She'd want her bottle before long, he knew.

Seamus cooed at Annabelle, smiling down at her, and Dean took a quick picture on his phone. He hadn't had time lately, but he knew these were the moments he'd want to sketch when he could.

Sure enough, as the kettle hit boiling, Annabelle began to cry. Dean placed the bottle into the water to head it up.

"Can you take your child now?" Seamus asked, wrinkling his nose. "It's crying and I don't like the noise."

Dean snorted, but did as Seamus asked. He shook his head at his best friend. "You know, it won't be long before you've got one of these of your own. I heard from Ginny that Lavender is getting broody now that we're all having kids."

Seamus grimaced. "Don't remind me. She's talking about nothing but at the moment. Driving me batty."

"I mean," Dean said, expertly testing the milk on his wrist. "You've always been a little batty."

Seamus rolled his eyes, but quickly brightened. "Here, let me show you what I bought for her."

He pulled a onesie from the bag. Dean blinked. "It's a bit… blue. Pretty sure I told you she was a girl, mate."

"Okay, full disclosure, when I ordered this, it was called Lapis Lazuli, and it sounded hella girly, mate."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, I can't wait until you have a kid."

"Dean, are you planning to come to bed anytime tonight?" Piers asked, leaning on the wall close to the foot of the stairs.

Dean was startled and looked up from his sketch. Piers was watching him with fond eyes. He nodded, glancing down at the sketch. "I think I'm done. Come and see it?"

Piers padded over and sat beside him, holding his hand out to accept the sketchpad. When he saw the drawing, he gasped, holding a hand to his heart.

"Dean, it's beautiful."

Dean smiled, looking again at the drawing. It wasn't often he loved his own work, but he did love this one. It was Annabelle and Parker, the dog curled up by her bouncer, his head on the foot of it. She was looking down at him, clearly delighted with him.

"This is going on the wall," Piers said, as he put the sketch pad down carefully. "But for now… come to bed. I miss you."

"You see me all the time."

"Annabelle is sleeping through the night, Dean," Piers said, lust evident in his eyes. "And you can do those fancy silencing spells. So… are you coming to bed?"

Dean grinned and stood. He cast a sneaky lightening spell on Piers and then scooped him up in his arms.

"Let's go."

They lay in bed, still panting from their lovemaking.

"I think I want another baby," Piers said. "Not yet, but… I want Annabelle to have a sibling."

Dean grinned at him. "We can have fun trying?"

Piers snorted. "That's not how any of that works with a surrogate, babe."

Dean shrugged and rolled on top of Piers, slotting between his slightly spread legs, renewed lust already making an appearance. "Let's pretend it does."


Written for:

Written in the Stars: 17. Sunflower

This or That: 13. Lust

Showtime: 19. "We can only do the best we can."

Film Festival: 1. Dog

Lizzy's Loft: 3. I want to believe

Elizabeth's Empire: 7. Illusion

Angel's Archive: 11. Cotton Candy

Amber's Anime Adventure: 13. Anxious

They Said What?: 1. "Can you take your child now? It's crying and I don't like the noise."

Hobby Hole: 6. Bubble Head Charm

Artist Appreciation: 3. Flicker

Buttons: E3. Excitement

Other:

Gobstones: Black Stone: Parenthood / Accuracy: Dean Thomas / Power: Bottle of wine / Technique: Painting

Auction: Day 8, Auction 1: Lapis Lazuli

365: 35. Devotion

Scavenger Hunt: 27. Write about a parent and child.

Fantastic Beasts: 89. Heqet: Childbirth