AUTHOR'S NOTE: I hate AUs in that I never know what season to set them in when season plots don't affect my story line. They're in the bunker which means past early season eight at least, but I figured that was generic enough for this story. However, I want certain people but don't want certain plots to have happened… So to make things a little less confusing, this is what I've kept and what I've discarded. This is probably more thought than necessary for an AU fic in which anything can happen or not, but I'm OCD and if this is set in the Supernatural canon 'verse but with alterations, I needed to think of everything that may be affected. For anyone else who needs to be that detailed, here is what I've changed (for anyone who doesn't care and just wants to read the fic, you can skip the rest of this AN):
In this universe where Dean and Cas are a couple and having kids, I'm doing away with the Mark of Cain because it so drastically affects Dean and because it indirectly leads to Charlie's death and I want her around. Now, you may be wondering "If he never got the Mark, what about Abaddon?" Well, I'm just going to say she never made it to the future chasing Henry who does need to have made it to the future so the boys can still be in the bunker. "But then if Abaddon never comes to the future and therefore doesn't kill him, where is Henry since Dean didn't want him going back to the past because it would change the future?" He stayed and tried being a hunter in this time (think of when Mary is resurrected, trying to live in a time she's unfamiliar with) but something killed him in lieu of Abaddon.
Then the trials happened, and Sam almost died, and Gadreel possessed him which led to Kevin's death, but now Gadreel is gone. At the same time, Metatron was casting the angels out and stole Cas's grace to do it, but I'm completely ignoring that because if I'm setting this after the trials and Gadreel, that means Cas would be on borrowed grace and I don't want to have to think about how that would affect the triplets' DNA if Cas didn't have his own grace. Besides, I think it would be cute to have Cas teach the triplets to fly when they get older, and if Metatron closed up Heaven, the angels can't fly. I don't know where he is or if he still becomes a dick after the trials/tablet/saving Kevin stuff in season eight, but he at least didn't strip the angels of their ability to fly or go home.
I don't know how much of this will actually be mentioned in the story itself, but for anyone wondering about certain plot lines as they read this, there it is.
Make sense? Okay, moving on!
In the weeks following the hunt in Sterling, the three settled into a routine almost like before Dean had pushed for the hunt. This time, however, it didn't make him feel suffocated or trapped staying inside the bunker for so long. After his ordeal with Cael, the high-level protection the Batcave offered made Dean feel safe and secure; he had no desire to leave again.
Instead, he busied himself with turning one of the larger rooms into a den, enlisting Castiel's help in dragging in and mounting a television, an extremely comfortable couch, and a recliner because he quickly realized that the three of them didn't comfortably fit on the couch together. Especially when Dean, with his swollen belly, found it most comfortable lying on his side, head pillowed in Castiel's lap. Sam had only teased him mildly when Dean had sent him out to pick up some throw pillows he'd found online to make lounging on the couch more comfortable. He'd found a small bookcase to use for lining DVDs in and started a small collection of shared DVDs. The three of them spent several nights relaxing in front of the television.
As the pregnancy progressed and Dean's nausea completely disappeared, he found lemons weren't his only craving. Out of nowhere, he started craving pickles. Though, when Sam suggested Dean put some in ice cream, the elder Winchester graced Sam with an expression as close to a bitchface as he could, the idea threatening to make him nauseous all over again. They soon discovered Dean's favorite form of pickle was pickle flavored potato chips. He made sure Sam always picked up a bag or two (or three) whenever he went food shopping. Pickles didn't override his craving for lemons though; Dean couldn't seem to get enough of either.
In addition to a new craving, his appetite increased with the absence of nausea. Though eating more often again meant he had to take up the responsibility of cooking again because Cas didn't know how and Sam's culinary skills were questionable. Dean didn't mind though, enjoying the early mornings in the kitchen while Sam finished his morning run. Castiel insisted he join Dean and help him cook and Dean couldn't find in himself to argue, enjoying the domesticity of sharing the kitchen with his boyfriend and (grudgingly) admitting that he couldn't move as fluidly as he could before he got pregnant. The help was probably necessary.
He and Castiel made breakfast, Sam usually made something simple for lunch, then they all made dinner together. Between, Dean found himself snacking on his pickle potato chips or various lemon flavored treats. He didn't try eating any actual lemons again, the fruit too sour to enjoy the way he had that first time in the diner.
Though his appetite was up and his nausea was down, Dean's body seemed to find other ways to cause him irritation. His back and hips and feet seemed to be in constant discomfort, his back and hips aching and his feet and ankles swelling. In a decision not entirely his own, he spent as much time off his feet as possible. Castiel would use grace now and then to ease as much of the pregnant hunter's discomfort as he could but supplemented that with putting Jimmy's pianist fingers to use massaging the achy parts of Dean's body.
Toward the end of his sixteenth week, Dean finally got a positive experience of being pregnant.
The hunter had been nestled against a few pillows on the couch in the new den, watching a rerun of Dr. Sexy when he'd felt a strange sensation low in his abdomen. Idly, he rubbed at the area to ease the feeling, like scratching an itch to make the sensation of being itchy go away. Several minutes later, he felt it again. This time, he paid a little more attention to it and noticed that it felt like it was coming from inside his belly. It almost felt like bubbles or small ripples under his skin though he couldn't feel anything with his palm against his stomach.
"Cas!" he called as he wiggled onto his back, keeping his hand pressed to the spot he'd felt it. "Cas, c'mere!"
He missed the hurried footsteps, too focused on eagerly waiting for the next little waves, but he did notice when the angel slid to a stop in the doorway, grasping the frame to keep himself from falling. Sam appeared behind him, expression just as worried, catching himself before slamming into the angel.
"Are you alright?" Cas asked, breathless.
"I'm fine," Dean assured him, waving him over with his free hand. "I think I can feel them moving!"
Cas's brow furrowed in confusion as he crossed the room to kneel beside where Dean sat on the couch. "What?"
"It feels like little ripples or waves. Remember the bubbly feeling I had in the car on the way to Sterling?" he asked, continuing when the other two nodded. "It's like that but… amplified, I guess. It feels weird, but not terrible."
"They are big enough to be moving a bit," Sam confirmed.
"Their movement is likely making their eggs shift inside you which is what you're feeling," Cas confirmed.
"S'weird," Dean mumbled, staring in awe at his belly and stroking his hand back and forth across his lower abdomen. "I wish I could feel them kicking."
"I think, the bigger they get, you'll realize you're lucky not to," Sam said with a huff of amusement.
Dean only hummed in response, expression falling as he finally moved his palm away from where he'd felt the movement.
"Dean?" Cas called quietly, reaching out to take one his boyfriend's hands which Dean squeezed lightly in reassurance.
"I'm fine," the hunter murmured. "Just remembering that this is probably the best I'm gonna get and you can't feel it at all."
"Dean," the angel soothed. "I told you, I don't need to feel their physical movement to enjoy seeing you carry them. I can feel their grace, remember?"
Dean nodded, shifting onto his side to face the angel. "I know. I don't know why it bothers me so much. And I guess I should be thankful they won't get to kick my ribs or stomp on my bladder." After a hesitant pause, he gently took his angel's hand and pressed their palms to his abdomen.
They lapsed into a peaceful silence, Dean content to rest and feel his children move, and Castiel happy to rub soothing circles into Dean's warm belly and feel the thrumming of the triplets' grace. At some point, Sam slipped into the recliner and started a movie, the three watching in comfortable silence.
"Hey, Cas?" Dean asked halfway through the movie. "I was thinking… While Cael had me tied up, he kept going on about how the triplets are powerful – that was the only reason I was kept alive; for them, for their power. Anyway, he kept calling them nephilim, but- What?" As soon as he'd said "nephilim," he'd noticed the way the angel tensed, jaw setting and lips thinning.
"Technically," Castiel growled, "they are nephilim – half-angel children fathered by angels and carried by human 'mothers.' I've been calling them fledglings – the term for newly-born angels – because 'nephilim' has a negative connotation to angels. They were evil and caused destruction, and God destroyed them all and forbade their creation. To Heaven, the triplets are illegal and abominations, and should be destroyed. But a child isn't evil because of what it is; they have to be taught evil. Our children will be good."
"Nature versus nurture," Sam added thoughtfully.
"Precisely," Castiel agreed.
"You were calling them fledglings to make their existence positive," Dean said in realization. At Castiel's nod, he leaned forward and pressed his lips firmly to the angel's. "That's sweet, Cas. Fledglings will be what we call them then."
"Hey, guys," Sam interrupted, tone thoughtful. "This brings up another point. The angels aren't going to like the triplets existing. I mean, Cael and the few angels working for him are proof of Cas's point. What if other angels come after Dean for the triplets? Some may not be as power-hungry as Cael and may want to kill Dean to kill the triplets. Or, I don't know, after the birth? The triplets will always be in some form of danger."
"Way to be positive, Sam," Dean muttered, tugging Castiel's hand until the angel got the hint and got comfortable on one end of the couch. Dean immediately settled back down onto his side, his head in Castiel's lap.
"I'm not trying to say having the babies isn't a good thing! You two aren't the only ones who are already attached," Sam said fondly. "I'm just saying, attacks like Cael are likely going to keep happening and will likely get worse. We have to do something. You guys can't stay locked up in the bunker forever."
"It would be nice to be able to take the kids outside," Dean sighed wistfully. He imagined his children running around a large backyard, Castiel somewhere nearby in a garden planted just for him because it would attract bees and Dean knew the angel liked the insects, himself sitting on a back porch or patio with a beer as he watched his family, Sam beside him with a book and his own beer. He blinked back tears that filled his eyes at the thought that he would never get that kind of happy ending for his kids. "I did say before that I don't want them to grow up in the bunker – in hunting. We can't have a house if angels will constantly attack us – or any monsters wanting their powers, for that matter."
"Not growing up in the bunker could be easily changed," Cas interjected, beginning to card his fingers through Dean's hair. "Simply find a house and move."
"It's not as easy as that, Cas," Sam countered. "First, we can't afford a house. Not with fake credit cards; they won't cover a purchase that large. And we're still on the FBI's wanted list; no one would sell us a house if they realized who we are. Second, leaving the bunker means leaving protection which we need to have around Dean while he's pregnant and the triplets after they're born. We can't ward the house against angels like we could my motel room in Sterling with a full angel and, ah, half angels living there. I'm not sure how much angel warding affects half angels, but I don't want to risk it."
"I wouldn't know," Castiel admitted, smiling slightly at the way Sam avoided using the word he hated while explaining that the children weren't full angel fledglings. "I have never been around half angel children before. I don't know if their soul halves will change how angel warding affects them or not."
Sam nodded his understanding. "Exactly. Which is why I don't want to have to put up angel warding in a home."
"What if we could use some of the bunker's protection?" Dean suggested, blinking his eyes drowsily. "We're protected here, but Cas can still come and go. If we recreate that in a home, he and the triplets should be okay living there, right?"
"In theory, that sounds like a perfect solution," Sam agreed though his tone didn't sound completely on board with the idea. "But the bunker's protection is sophisticated, and I'm not sure I'd be able to understand it well enough to copy it safely. It would take tech skills I don't have."
"Charlie could," Dean countered. "She could probably wire us some money, too. Hell, with enough time, she could probably hack into the FBI's database and wipe any traces of us from there, too."
"Maybe, but we don't know where she is," Sam said. "Ever since her trip to Oz and being put back together, she's been off hunting on her own."
"She likes the adventure," Dean agreed before yawning and letting his eyes close.
"Sam," Castiel said, lowering his voice in deference to his drowsy boyfriend. "We can't resolve anything right this moment, but maybe you could try contacting Charlie to help us?"
Sam nodded. "Yeah, of course. I'll try calling her tomorrow. You need help with him?" he asked, gesturing to Dean who had begun to snore lightly.
Castiel smiled fondly down at his boyfriend and shook his head. "No, I've got him."
"Okay then," Sam replied as he stood, stretching his arms above his head. "Night, Cas."
"Goodnight, Sam," the angel said fondly, watching the hunter exit the room before returning his attention to Dean.
After watching him sleep for a moment longer, he carefully arranged the hunter into a cradle hold in his arms then smoothly stood. Dean stirred slightly in his sleep, nuzzling into Castiel's shoulder as he was carried to their room. The angel arranged his hunter comfortably in their bed then slipped in on his own side, immediately gathering Dean back into his arms as the hunter slept. As had become a habit to him while Dean slept, one of Castiel's hands slipped down to the swell of Dean's belly, caressing the firm plane in slow circles as he felt out the grace-soul signatures of his children, keeping watch over them as well as his hunter.
"Thanks, Charlie, you're awesome," Sam said with a grin before ending the call and setting his phone down in front of him.
"You called Charlie already?" Dean asked as he made his way into the library and carefully lowered himself into a seat. "I thought it would be harder to get in touch. What's she up to?"
"She's, uh, actually already on her way here. She just finished up a werewolf case in Missouri a few days ago and was headed here, hoping we'd let her stay for a while. Sounds like she needs a break," Sam explained.
"Of course we'd let her stay," Dean said, sounding almost offended that someone he considered family would think they couldn't stay in the bunker. "Did you tell her about, uh…?" He trailed off, gesturing to his belly.
"I didn't think that would go over well on the phone," Sam answered. "Kinda thought she might need to see it to believe it."
Dean nodded slowly in understanding. Even with the things they all dealt with, there were just some things that were too unusual to believe unless they could see it with their own eyes. "Okay, when is she gonna get here?"
"She said she's only an hour or two out."
Dean nodded, one hand slowly rubbing the side of his belly as he stared at the table. If Charlie could help them do what they planned to, they could be moving out of the bunker. This place had been home for two years – the longest they've ever settled in one place after their mother died. Logically, Dean knew that moving out didn't mean they'd never see the bunker again. It would likely become their workplace instead of their home, a place to store all their rare books and magical objects safely away from the triplets. And maybe someday, when the triplets were old enough to decide for themselves, they could see this place and decide if hunting was what they wanted. Perhaps as a hobby like Charlie seemed to do instead of as a lifestyle they'd been forced into like Sam, Castiel, and himself.
Thinking about moving out filled Dean with a sense of loss and melancholy, but it also gave him hope and reminded him that they'd be moving into a home – a real home – something they hadn't had since their mother died. Sure, Bobby had tried whenever John dumped them in Sioux Falls with their uncle, but the boys had never been able to stay longer than a month or two before John came to collect them again. Now, his kids could have a stable place to live, to grow. They could (possibly) attend school when they were old enough, something he'd have to discuss with Cas, and it would be the same school for more than a week or two. There would be a yard to play in instead of a concrete parking lot like at all those motels Sam and Dean had been forced to stay in as John dragged them across the country.
Any cross-country treks the triplets would go on would be family vacations. They'd go places more fun than the world's largest ball of twine which Dean had lost count of how many times he'd seen. Maybe they could all go to Disney; it didn't matter which one. That was something Sam and Dean had never done as kids, and Dean could imagine the wonder on his kids' faces when they got there.
"Dude, you okay?" Sam asked, breaking Dean of his thoughts.
Dean blinked several times, realizing he had tears sliding down his face. He quickly wiped them away and nodded.
"Yeah, just thinking," he said. "If Charlie can pull this off, the triplets will have everything we never did."
Sam nodded, offering his brother a small smile. "You'll never completely give up hunting though. I know you can't."
Dean shook his head, unsure of the truth of that sentiment. True, hunting was all he'd known since he was a child, and he'd tried the apple pie life with Lisa which hadn't worked out, but that was different. He hadn't loved Lisa like he loved Castiel, and Sam had been dead – or Dean had thought he was dead. This time around, he would have Sam with him. And while Sam had had the opportunity to get away, to try going to college before Dean had dragged him back into the life, Dean hadn't had that chance. Hunting was all he'd known. He couldn't decide if having been in that life so long would make it easier or harder to give it up. Sure, now that he was going to be a parent, he'd cut back and would never bring that life around his children, but he wasn't sure if it could be something he never did again.
And then a thought struck him, chilling him down to his bones and making his heart beat harder in his chest.
"Sammy," he whispered, wide eyes filling with tears as he turned to look at his brother. "I'm gonna die."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know, that statement sounds very random, but I purposely left out Dean's thought process to that end realization until the next chapter for the "Wtf?!" factor. Sorry! ^^;
Also, I sincerely, deeply apologize for such a long wait! I did say that it would only be a month because of moving but then I got stuck when I finally started this chapter and couldn't figure out where to go! However, I have several plans for this now and shouldn't take three to four months to update again. :D