The Song of the Caged Bird

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing.

Maya Angelou "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings"

The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist.

A/N: Thanks everyone for the follows and the favorites! Special thanks to my betas Dljensengirl88 and LovelyFangirls for the edits and the help!

I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and the story on a whole! :)

For the first time in months, Cas doesn't awaken until late afternoon. Normally with Emeline moving around, the cramps and Dean's very proximity, he'd stay up at abominable hours, wake early and avoid sleep as much as humanly possible.

But, if he were honest with himself, he'd admit that he loved sleep; it was the only thing that kept him away from reality. Sleep was a magnificent thing, he could appreciate that, and he was sure, if given the chance, he'd appreciate death even more.

Like everything, however, slumber had its downsides; notoriously, the nightmares. Cas did not scream, but he'd tremble, and he'd sweat and he'd beg. He'd do everything and yet nothing was ever enough.

They were rare things, the nightmares, but when they came like a storm in a seemingly calm night, all quiet and unexpected, those were the worst times for Castiel.

The ones involving Dean were horrible, sure, but nothing compared to the ones involving Emeline. Many times he'd seen her stillborn, himself miscarrying, her violent birth or, once she was born, himself harming her, throwing her away or robbing her of life. Those were most frightening. Often he'd wake up feeling undeserving of her, of this chance. Other times he'd torture himself with thoughts of how wrong it was to keep her; how he should have held onto that one idle thought of aborting her when he first heard he was pregnant. Because this life was not worth it. Oh, how he knew that, and though he was destined for a fate of cursed obedience with Dean, how cruel would it be for him to thrust a child into that same fate as well? It was something he debated many times.

Some part of him knew that he could fight for Emeline's freedom, but at the same time, he knew that such a struggle would not be easy.

It was better, he reasoned, not to think about such things and to just let life take its course. As each day passed, he knew the decision regarding Emeline wouldn't be simple, but every day he felt her alive within him, he couldn't ever imagine not carrying her to term.

Mercifully, those lurid dreams never bled into each other; there were no dreams of Dean meeting Emeline, nor of Emeline meeting Dean. Castiel figured that it could correlate with the reality that his conscious mind didn't want to imagine Dean ever getting a glimpse of Emeline and so his brain was seeing to it that that wish was fulfilled, at least in his dreams.

Either way, Cas was glad for that. It was hard enough alone having Dean contaminate his purity; it would be even worse if he let him do that to Emeline.

He wished that last night's slumber would have been peaceful, but it wasn't. Although he slept through the night, he was still plagued with horrid dreams that refused to leave him alone.

He lies in bed now, aching in places he's hesitant to think about. He couldn't remember what he dreamt about, but there's an urge there, a remnant from the nightmare, a sensation that lingers. Something like the pull of a command, only slightly weaker, but nonetheless powerful. Because this wasn't just any feeling, it's a desire.

He wanted to cut. He wanted to drown out the pain with more pain, because pain is all he had. It's all he had ever known and all he ever would know.

He looked around to see if his husband was anywhere. Cas didn't doubt Dean was probably seeing to the consequential hangover resulting from his previous inebriation. He listened and prayed that Dean wasn't occupying the bathroom and was probably in the kitchen or something like that.

He knew he couldn't cut; Dean's commands saw to that. But he could turn the temperature too high on the water in the shower and that could be enough until he got to the kitchen and burned himself in there.

Slowly, he got himself up off the bed, which wasn't easy to do since he'd gotten so big, and waddled to the bathroom down the hall.

When he got to the bathroom, he surprised himself; once the water was turned on and he finally cleaned himself of Dean's scent, Dean's spill, the evidence of the horrible rape he was subjected to, he cried. He cried for the burns, wished they were cuts, cried for Emeline, cried out to the God who refused to answer his prayers. He cursed every hopeful thought he ever had of it ever getting better. He cried because he is tired of being weak, of being used, of being Dean's plaything.

Then he hurled what little food he managed to consume the day before, into the toilet.

When it was over and he had put on fresh clothes and deemed himself decent enough to face the husband he despised, he decided to suck it up and head downstairs.

Dean was at the kitchen table, but he wasn't alone. Bobby was sitting with him. Bobby saw Cas first and gave him a big smile. Tentatively, he smiled back.

Cas doesn't know much about Bobby. Like Benny, Bobby just appeared one day without introduction or explanation. He understands that Bobby was a part of Dean's past, and Dean doesn't like to talk about his past much with Cas.

That doesn't stop Cas from loving Bobby though. Bobby is sweet and cares for Castiel's well-being. For some reason, Bobby doesn't find Cas or his curse strange. He takes everything with a nod of his head and a crack of his knuckles. Cas figures that this is the reason Dean has given Bobby the responsibility of midwife as he seems more equipped in handling what is sure to be one of the most complicated pregnancies of all time, than any other human being on Earth.

Bobby rarely asks questions first, he gets to the meat of the situation and then asks questions later. Cas guesses that this is why he and Dean have managed to be as close as they are now. Cas sometimes wonders how Bobby, as he is so obviously human, deals with all the weirdness that Cas and Dean can offer him without even a bat of his lashes. It makes Cas wonder just what kind of things they deal with on a daily basis that Cas doesn't know about. Of course, he doesn't ask; better to keep quiet than to get Dean angry.

Bobby had been the one to tell them the gender of the baby by one of the numerous tests he ran when Cas was a few months along. Cas trusted the older man with Emeline's health and hopeful success of her birth. So far, Bobby did not disappoint.

"Bobby, I didn't know you were here." Cas forces another smile to break across his face. He pointedly tries to ignore Dean's bowed form sitting at the kitchen table.

The older man shrugs. "Dean asked me to stop by. Says it's about time I came to check on you since you're due sometime within the next three weeks."

At the mention of his name, Dean raises his head from his crossed arms and looks over at Cas. "Hey, babe. Did you sleep well?" He asks, sounding way too chipper for someone who looks like they've been run over by a freight train.

"I slept fine, Dean." Castiel swallows down the searing abhorrence that rises within him at the sight of his husband. He knows, logically, that hating Dean isn't going to help anything, but he can't help the small part of him that isn't willing to accept that this is his life. A small, hopeful part of him that is still fighting; fighting against this crappy life he is condemned to have.

Despite the protests of his entire being, he gently places a kiss to Dean's cheek, fully aware that Dean prefers it when Cas shows affection in front of company.

"How did you sleep?" he questions, for it is the polite response.

"Not well. I drank too much last night."

Bobby chuckles. "You idjit!"

Dean glares at him. "Right, well I have to go into town for a meeting. I'll leave you two alone to practice breathing exercises or whatever it is you two do. Do you need anything, love?" He rises from his seat and turns to Castiel who is distracted from the sudden overwhelming envy he feels toward Dean for his liberty of going outside whenever he wants to.

"Cas?" Dean calls, because Castiel still hasn't heard him.

"Why don't you take him with you? I can wait here. I'm sure Castiel isn't eager to be poked and prodded just yet. Besides, some fresh air'd do him and the baby some good," Bobby suggests, laughter having subsided and temperance returning.

All life seems to return to Cas and he looks at Dean hopefully. But Dean isn't looking at him; he's glaring at Bobby as if the older man has said something deeply insulting. "He's good here," Dean seethes.

"I'm just saying—" Bobby tries to amend, but Dean cuts him off.

"You telling me I don't know what's best for my own husband and unborn child?" Dean is getting into the other man's space. Bobby seems surprised more than anything else and gapes at Dean like a fish.

"Dean!" Cas cries, mortified by his husband's behavior.

As he regains some awareness, Dean switches from looking like he is about to maul Bobby to a man full of repentance and desperate to be forgiven.

"I'm sorry," he says, running a hand through his short, dirty blond hair.

Bobby simply nods, but he is looking at Dean with concern. "S'ok son."

Dean wastes no time in leaving after that. He does not take Cas with him.

Cas answers Bobby's questions as soon as they come. He tells him that Emeline moves around very little these days, but kicks a lot more than she used to. He tells Bobby that although he has to pee more often, he doesn't mind it as much though he wishes he could hold down more food.

Bobby reassures him that this is all normal. He tells Cas that Emeline isn't moving around as much because she's running out of space. He says she is getting big enough and that he shouldn't be on his feet too much. He makes a list of things that Cas should try to eat as his stomach should be able to hold it down, it's a list similar to the 'Yes' and 'No' food list he gave Cas in the early stages of his pregnancy.

Then Bobby performs a physical exam on Cas and the bedroom falls into a comfortable silence. Cas quite likes Bobby. He makes him feel better about things. He lets Cas talk and welcomes every question he asks, except for questions about Dean. Castiel is smart enough not to ask him questions about the mon- Dean. Don't call me anything but Dean. I'm not a monster. I love you and I hope you don't talk about me with him, babe. It would be a shame if you and he were discussing my business. I don't want to have to stop you from talking to him.

After the exam, Bobby's expression morphs into one of concern. Terror seeps into Castiel's bones and he clutches his stomach protectively.

"Oh, son. Nothing's wrong with Emeline, though I would drink more fluids if I were you since you are a little dehydrated." Bobby reassures with a small smile, but almost immediately, the concern returns to his face.

Castiel nods and silently thanks whoever is listening out there in the universe that Emeline is fine.

"Then why, may I ask, do you look so distressed?" Cas looks over at the older man and tries to read his body language for any clues.

The alarm marking Bobby's features gives way to bewilderment. The midwife sighs and gazes out the window across from them for longer than necessary. Castiel waits.

"It's Dean I'm worried about. I haven't seen him act like that in so long," Bobby admits.

Castiel remains silent; he knows they shouldn't talk about Dean. He wouldn't like it if he found out.

"Tell me, Cas. Does he have anger outbursts like that normally?" Bobby's soulful blue eyes search his for the answer. Castiel pretends as if he hasn't heard the question. Memories resurface of the times Dean has yelled at him, only to come home with flowers and gifts and apologetic words that do nothing to soften the blows, but instead make Cas even more afraid of the unpredictable stranger he shares his bed with.

"Castiel, you have to tell me. I want to know." Bobby's voice lowers in pitch.

It's not a command and Castiel is grateful for that. He allows himself to answer, the fondness he has for Bobby giving him a temporary lapse in judgment. "Yes, but not like today. Usually when h-he shouts, it's because of something I've done. A mistake I've made or something I screwed up." Bobby is silent, so Cas continues. "He doesn't do it often, but—"

"He shouldn't yell at you, period. I'm not too happy about him drinking either. For Pete's sake, you're giving him a child. You two are adults and this is a huge responsibility. What kind of example is he gonna set for his daughter?" Bobby's cheeks are a furious red. Cas feels suddenly ashamed. Bobby's right, they have to do better, for Emeline.

Then Bobby's face morphs into a look of sheer terror. He focuses his alarmed eyes on Cas. "Castiel, does he hit you?"

Cas shakes his head so violently he fears his head is going to fall off.

"Is he commanding you to say that?"

"No," he responds. "Why would you ask me that?"

Bobby slumps in his chair, looking immediately regretful. "No reason." Silence, then: "Castiel, I know this curse isn't easy to deal with. And I'm still searching for a cure for you, I just haven't found one yet. But, you have to tell me if anything is wrong, if you want me to help you."

A fleeting memory rises in his mind of someone promising that same thing. He allows it to take over his attention, but when he tries to focus on the memory, to pinpoint exactly who that someone is, it vanishes.

No one can help me… he wants to say.

Bobby takes Cas' silence for that of apprehension. "Cas, you can tell me. It's alright."

Castiel feels the traitorous tears well up in his lost blue eyes. "I can't."

"You have a job to protect that baby. I know what happened to Sam. The poor kid's in the hospital because of what Dean did to him. And I couldn't help him. I couldn't help him. " Bobby's regret is written all over his face. He slumps down further in the chair. Castiel wants to reach out and touch him, comfort him. But he finds it hard to do, since he wants to cry himself.

It then occurs to Cas that he has no idea who Bobby is talking about. Who is Sam? Did Dean attack someone? Dean hurt someone and now they're in the hospital. He knew Dean was dangerous, but not to that extent.

He poses this question to Bobby. Then it's like flipping through channels on a T.V. Bobby's face changes from sorrowful to disbelief to nothing but rage. "What do you mean you don't know who Sam is? Cas, how do you not know who Dean's brother is?"

Castiel blinks, taken aback by Bobby's reaction. "I don't know who he is. I didn't even know Dean had a brother."

"How could you forget?" Bobby's eyes are searching. He looks as if he's trying to figure out something impossible.

Forget Sam, forget Sam, forget Sam… runs around and around Cas' mind. It stings and there's a blinding light, then he remembers Dean, insidiously calm, saying those exact same words.

"I think," Cas starts, finally putting the pieces of the puzzle together. "Dean ordered me to."

The room falls silent. Bobby swallows; once again, the disbelief on his face dissipates into absolute rage. He doesn't say anything for a long while.

Then: "I have to talk to Dean about this."

"Please," Cas cries out. He reaches a hand out to Bobby's cheek. He tries his best to make Bobby see the pleading, the desperation. "I need you to help me. Let me remember."

Bobby nods furiously. He says with an urgency of his own, "You need to get out of here. You have to protect that baby. If he—if he is commanding you to forget things, imagine what else he can command you to do."

"No," Cas whispers. "I can't leave. You don't understand. He won't let me."

"Sure, Cas. In fact, you can live with me. You'll be safe." The older man nods his head matter-of-factly.

"No." A memory arises; he and Dean are lying in bed after sex, some night long ago, before the pregnancy, before all the hatred. Dean is holding him tight, and Cas falsely tells himself that this is all he can ever hope for. Dean whispers something, and Cas can only make out the latter part of it as sleep beckons to him …you can't ever leave me, Cas. I'll go crazy without you. I'll come after you, every time and if I find the son of a bitch that took you from me, I'll hurt him. Or I'll make you hurt him. You can't even guess how much I love you…

"You're not safe," Cas tells Bobby. He pushes himself up into a sitting position and carefully avoids the other man's gaze. "He'll harm you or force me to do it. I have a hard time living with myself already, how do you think I'd feel if you got hurt?" Then a scary thought comes to his mind. "What if I'm the reason his brother is in the hospital?"

Bobby is silent again.

"You have to get out of here. It's too late for me," Cas warns. He doesn't wish to ponder on just how true that statement is.

Bobby is staring into oblivion. It's evident that he hasn't heard what Cas has said, or that he is even aware that Cas is talking. "My God," he whispers. "He's becoming his father."

Cas doesn't understand. But Bobby says no more.

Cas leads Bobby to the front door. The man tries again to get Cas to come with him. He pleads, he even begs, but he does not command and Cas is appreciative of that. He knows Bobby wouldn't. He also knows that some of what Bobby said was right. He has to protect Emeline, and he will. Even if that means she never meets Cas himself. If she has to go somewhere far away, he'll let it happen. He'll do that for her, even if he can't come with her.

The Impala pulls up while Cas and Bobby are still having their dispute. Cas has the door open and Bobby is adamantly not leaving. Dean steps out and gives them both a three hundred watt smile and Cas struggles to speak, temporarily blinded by the beauty of the Devil himself.

"What's the problem here?" Dean asks, feeling the tension.

Cas speaks before Bobby can. "Bobby here, was just leaving. Everything is fine with the baby and he is needed somewhere else. Right?" He silently pleads that Bobby will just go along with it.

The older man must have read it in Cas' face and tone, because he drops his resolve and nods his head. "Yes, I was. I'll just advise you to drink more water and please read that list I gave you. It has all the food you should be able to eat on a rocky stomach. And with that, I'll get outta your hair." He chuckles, but it's an off sound.

"Thank you so much, Bobby." Cas smiles. He means it with every fiber of his being.

Bobby nods. "If you ever need anything, I'm just a phone call away."

"Right," Dean says. "Well I'm sure we'll be good for a few weeks. We'll call you, but I honestly think with all these books you left us and the lists and the medicine we should be just fine." He wraps an arm around Castiel and Cas thinks he's imagining it when Dean's hold tightens. His husband throws Bobby a reassuring smile that would probably dazzle a novice, but only serves to make Bobby act even more off.

"I'll just be going now," he says and then he, finally, leaves.

"What was that about?" Dean questions. His tone is patient and casual.

Cas shrugs. "I think he was having a bad day. How was yours?"

Dean, seemingly satisfied with that answer, grins at his husband. "It was good. Same old, same old. I'm sorry I couldn't be here for the exam."

"It's fine. It went well."

"Good." A pause, then: "Cas?"

"Hmm?"

"You know better than to lie to me, right?" He walks over to Castiel, who freezes in place.

"Dean," Castiel pleads.

"Because lying to your husband is wrong."

Cas swallows. Dean is staring at him like he can practically feel the guilt coming off Castiel in waves.

Dean steps closer, his eyes narrowing.

"Do you think it's fair? For me? For our baby? It wouldn't be good to lie to me. It wouldn't be smart, would it, Cas? Think of Emeline. Her future. Think of the dreams we have for her, for us, for our future. Lying could devastate all that."

Castiel bows his head in shame. Dean's right, he's absolutely right. If he really wanted the best for Emeline, why was he trying at every opportunity to ruin the marriage? To mess with Dean? To provoke him? Wasn't he smart enough to see the danger?

He wasn't the best husband, but he had to be a better father, and good fathers didn't do stupid things.

Dean steps even closer until he's tilting Cas' head up so they can be eye to eye. In Dean's green eyes, there's sympathy and something else, possibly victory, but Cas doesn't allow himself to ponder that.

Dean's voice softens. "I don't want that and I sure as Hell know you don't want that either. You don't want to tear this family apart, so no more lying. From now on we're going to be completely honest with each other. That means no more secret talks with Bobby."

Cas raises his head at that. Dean knows -probably has always known. The cobalt-eyed man blushes, feeling exposed, as if everything he ever told Bobby has been known to Dean this whole time. He almost expects punishment, but Dean seems too focused on something else.

As Cas weighs the implications of Dean's statement, he realizes that what he wants the most is to ask if that means that Dean will divulge information about his job, his life outside of the cottage, but as if sensing what Cas is thinking, Dean shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, Cas. I mean, I'll tell you what you need to know. Alright?"

"Yes, Dean."

"I love you, always will. And I know you love me." His eyes flare with sincerity. The way Dean says it, as if he's simply assuring that rain is wet and grass is green, makes Cas' stomach do flip flops.

Then Dean is hugging him. "I need you, Cas. Emeline needs you. You have no idea what it does to me when I know you're being dishonest. When I think about all that I've done for you, it makes me want to just shake some sense into that head of yours. Bobby means well, but nobody can be there for you like your husband. Am I right, Cas?" He whispers, breath ghosting the shell of Castiel's ear.

Cas manages to smile, though there is no mirth behind it.

You're weak, you're so weak… his mind tells him.

Castiel cries into Dean's neck. Dean coos, and rubs his back. His husband probably assumes they are tears of happiness. Cas just lets them fall. He never likes crying in front of Dean, because his weakness would only be put on display. This time, however, he can't help it.

That night, as Dean sleeps, Cas takes a knife from the kitchen, don't hurt yourself anymore… runs through his head and he just. Can't. Make. It. Stop.

He wants to cut so bad. His veins, so bold and blue like his eyes, call to him. End the pain, he tells himself. Just end it.

But the curse makes him drop the knife and it clatters to the ground.

Emeline moves a little and it's as if he suddenly remembers what he chose to live for. His Emeline; his everything.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, rubbing his tummy. "I keep failing you."

He rises, ascends the stairs, and walks to the guest room across the hall, purposefully passing by the nursery that Dean insisted on decorating. He finds the pen and paper again in the desk drawer.

He closes his eyes, thinks of her and writes.

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed. More to come soon!