When Cas finally returned to the bunker that night, Sam was seated in the middle of the floor, books spread across his lap while Jimmy slept soundly on a pillow next to him. An empty bottle lay discarded a few feet from them, and Cas immediately stooped to pick it up.

This small movement seemed to catch Sam's attention, and he immediately pulled Jimmy's pillow closer while simultaneously reaching for the blade beside him. "Sam?" Cas set the bottle on the table, and Sam seemed to relax slightly.

"Sorry, Cas," he muttered. "It's been a weird day. Where have you been?"

"Heaven," Cas replied dismissively as he sat next to Sam and Jimmy, tapping the baby softly on the nose. "We still have a lot of rebuilding to do. It's getting… tedious."

"Yeah, I bet," Sam said, turning back to his book. "Seen Dean yet?"

Cas shook his head, still watching the sleeping baby. "Not yet," he replied. "Where is he?"

"Upstairs," Sam said lightly, "angel-proofing Jimmy's room."

"What?" Cas finally looked up, face a mixture of concern and indignation. "Why?"

Sam set his book down with a sigh. "Because he's paranoid, and he's overreacting. Look, why don't you just go talk to him? It's a really long story, and I kinda have all this to do." He gestured widely at the pile of books, and by the time he looked back up, Cas was gone. "Here we go," he muttered, as the sound of a shout, followed by a loud thud, reverberated through the bunker.

"Jesus, Cas, don't scare me like that!" Dean exclaimed, tossing the angel blade a safe distance across the room. "I almost stabbed you, man!"

Cas got slowly to his feet, gratefully accepting the hand offered to him, as well as Dean's profuse apologies. "It's fine. I'm fine," he replied, allowing Dean to pull him into a tight hug. After a moment, he added, "Why were you sitting in the dark?"

"Huh?" Dean pulled back and looked around the room. "Oh, that. Jimmy blew out the light bulb," he said with a shrug.

Though the shadows obscured most of the angel's face, Dean thought he saw the faintest hint of pride in Cas' smile. "Did he?"

"Yeah, though your buddy Inias said that shouldn't be happening until he's a bit older."

There was an uneasy waver in Dean's voice as he spoke. A tremor, almost, barely concealed beneath his usual bluster and bravado. Barely noticeable to anyone, except for Castiel. "Inias was here?" he asked, and the look on Dean's face told him everything he needed to know.

"Yeah," Dean said, turning back to the paint bucket left discarded in the corner. "Popped outta thin air. Musta knocked Sammy out, cuz I've never seen him sleep like that his whole damn life. And when I turned around, the shitwit had Jimmy." He ground out the last bit through gritted teeth, knuckles white as he gripped the paintbrush.

"Inias would never harm Jimmy," Cas said in what was meant to be a reassuring voice, but clearly was having no effect on Dean.

"Yeah? What makes you so sure?"

Cas almost smirked, but kept his face more or less neutral. "He's not foolish enough to risk angering his superior."

"And by his superior, you mean you."

"Yes. Inias has always been a peaceful being. He will not seek out conflict on his own."

"What about your other little angel buddies, huh?" Dean shot back. "Anna and Alfie were here too, you know."

"Who is Alfie?" Cas asked, confused.

"Uh… Samandriel," he elaborated. "Anna just walked out of the kitchen with a bottle, and fuck only knows what Alfie was doing with all those blankets—why are you smiling?"

Cas shook his head slightly. "There are many things you do not understand, Dean," he said gently.

"Yeah? Mind telling me?"

"Our… family, I suppose you would call it, is very close. And when a child is born, every angel takes a part in its upbringing." Dean looked far from comforted by the explanation. "It's a deeply ingrained custom."

"What, like how you're all a bunch of celestial personal space invaders?"

Cas rolled his eyes. "Yes, Dean. It's the same thing."

"Well, I don't like it." Dean grabbed the bucket and walked back to where a half-finished sigil shone damp against the wall. "How many of those assclowns have tried to kill us? I don't trust them for a second."

"You are not painting those on the wall, Dean," Cas snapped, making a swipe for the paintbrush.

"Hey, I'm sorry if I'm offending your family, but if they wanna visit my kid, they're gonna ask for some goddamn permission first."

"Our child, Dean," Cas corrected, voice dropping sharply. "Did it occur to you that if you paint those symbols on the wall, I will be unable to enter as well?"

Dean had the decency to look momentarily abashed, but the stubborn set of his jaw did not lessen. "What else am I supposed to—"

"And," Cas continued, cutting Dean off. "those sigils will affect Jimmy as well. Or did you forget he's only half human?"

"Shit." Dean dropped the brush back into the bucket. "Shit. Look, I'm sorry. It's just, some of your brothers a little fucked in the head. And if they're just gonna show up whenever the hell they feel like it, I don't know what else to do."

"I can watch Jimmy while you sleep," Cas said, and finally, Dean seemed to relax. "And I will speak to them about… boundaries."

"That'd be great," Dean said wearily, and stared at the paint bucket. "Couldya open a window? I'm gonna get this stuff outta here before the fumes get too bad."

"Of course, Dean."