Cas's Logical Sequel, Chapter 1
By CastielLovesDean
I did some online research and found that the only noticeable pregnancy symptoms before week 5 are related to the menstrual cycle (as in bleeding). I don't wanna go into that with Dean (eeeeeeeew!) so I'm just gonna wait until week 5 to start writing the symptoms in, okay? That'll be around New Years Day.
Disclaimer: Here's a shocker. Are you ready for this one? I hope you're sitting down... I do not own Supernatural. Or anything, really.
Briankrause pointed out that Dean wasn't angry/vengeful enough with Gabe to be in-character, which was totally true. Here's my attempt that it; I hope it measures up.
After the eggshells incident, the rest of breakfast went smoothly. For all of Cas's social inadequacies, he was actually a quick study, provided he had the right instruction. Just as they – well, Dean finished eating his breakfast, Sam walked into the room, books piled in his massive arms from his belly button to his chin.
"Hey, guys!" he greeted them enthusiastically. "So, Cas," Sam wondered as he set the heavy stack on the cluttered kitchen table, "how long are you planning to keep Gabe in that circle?"
Cas scowled as he collected dirty dishes to put in the sink. "Until he's sorry for what he did to Dean."
"You know, I think he's pretty sorry."
"So Gabe's outside in a circle?" Dean inferred.
"Yeah, he's next to that rusty old Bel Air."
Dean got up to leave.
"Where are you going? I thought we could do some research." He waved around a book titled The Pregnancy Book.
Dean looked at the pathetic, confused look on his otherwise intelligent baby brother's face and answered, "I got ten months, remember? Can I start research this weekend? Besides," he lied, rubbing his belly for sympathy, "I'm a little tired."
"Oh, yeah, sure. Okay." It didn't even occur to him that he just woke up and shouldn't need sleep so soon. "Before you go, check out the movie I got for us to watch." He handed Dean a DVD.
Dean read aloud from the case. "'As part of a fertility research project, a male scientist agrees to carry a pregnancy in his own body.'" He did an annoyed double-take. "Junior?" he demanded. "You got Junior? That's not funny, Sam."
"It's not a joke, Dean; it's research."
"You know this isn't real, right?" Dean clarified, waving the DVD case around. "It's a movie; it's fiction. It's bad fiction."
Sam scoffed, seemingly hurt. "Fine. I'll watch it with Cas."
There was a loud porcelain clatter from the sink area where Castiel was manually washing dishes, and Dean snickered to himself. Poor Cas. "That's between you two. I'm going to bed."
Sam shrugged and went back to organizing the pregnancy books. "So, Cas, guess it's just you and me."
"It is," Cas agreed.
"Hey, look at what this says in the third month: 'Another Reason for Being Tired, Moody, and Constipated.' Maybe Dean's been pregnant this whole time and we didn't even know," he joked.
Castiel frowned. "To my knowledge, Dean doesn't suffer from constipation. Besides, he would have had to have been in his third month for years, which is impossible. I suspect he's just an emotional person."
Sam sighed, wondering when Cas would start picking up on sarcasm. Would his little niece figure it out before her Angelic daddy? Probably. He skipped the chapters in the book that covered pre-conception and conception since Dean was already pregnant, starting instead with the first month of pregnancy. He almost read it aloud to Castiel for educational purposes, but then he realized that, as an Angel of the Lord, he most likely knew everything there was to know about human anatomy. He instead read silently to himself, trying to ignore how awkward he felt being alone with his boyfriend's brother. Or his brother's boyfriend. Whatever.
He hadn't even finished the chapter before he heard a loud 'pop' from the salvage yard he recognized as gunfire. Castiel disappeared before Sam could even stand from his chair to run outside and see what was wrong.
"That's between you two. I'm going to bed," he lied. He left the room without giving Sam the chance stall him further. It was a little surprising to Dean that Sam couldn't tell he had diabolical plans for Gabe, considering what the bastard did to him, but in retrospect, he was grateful his plot wouldn't be interfered with.
First, he quietly exited via the front door and grabbed a cheap, folding lawn chair he knew would be there. Second, he went to the trunk of his car, chair in tow, and removed his favorite sawed-off and a box of twelve-gauge shells to go with it.
"Hello, Dean!" Gabe greeted him as he approached the circle. "What'cha got there?"
"Oh, you know," he answered nonchalantly, setting up the folding chair and sitting in it, "just the usual. Chair... gun." He checked the gun to confirm that it was fully loaded; that was mostly for Gabriel's benefit, since Dean always kept his guns fully loaded unless he was cleaning them.
"What for?" Gabriel asked as if he were a small child asking why people had so many teeth.
"What are guns usually for? It's for shooting." He pumped the gun, aimed it at Gabriel, and pulled the trigger.
"Ow!" Gabriel complained loudly and doubtlessly with a bit of acting involved. "What the Hell are you doing?"
Dean pumped the shotgun again, coolly catching the hot, ejected shell flying through the air.
"I'm wondering the same thing, Dean," he heard Castiel add, suddenly next to him.
Dean didn't jump, flinch, or otherwise startle – he was used to Cas's sudden appearances. "What does it look like I'm doing?" He leveled the gun on Gabe and pulled the trigger again.
"It looks like you're angry with Gabriel."
"Oh, I'm not angry," Dean denied, pumping the gun yet again. "High blood pressure's not good for the baby, remember? Nah, I'm just keeping my aim sharp since I'm gonna be out of commission for nearly a year. Don't wanna get rusty like last time."
After the third shot, Sam came running up in a full panic. "What's going on?" he demanded. "What's wrong?"
"Everything's fine," Dean insisted, pumping the gun in what he hoped was a menacing way.
"Everything's not fine," Gabe argued. "Dean's being mean to me!"
Sam caught his breath. "Dean's 'being mean' to you?" he repeated. He flinched when Dean shot Gabe again.
"See?" Gabe complained. "He's shooting me! Look at all these bullet holes! And the blood stains? This is my favorite coat! It might never be the same again!"
Sam was unsympathetic to his boyfriend's plight. "Yeah, well, thanks to you, Dean's pregnant. My brother might never be the same again."
"He seems like the same old stubborn, ill-tempered," another shot, "soft-around-the-middle dick I've always known him to be!"
"Hey!" Dean protested. "I'm not 'soft around the middle!' I'm pregnant. And whose fault is that?" He shot Gabe again. "Yours." He cocked the gun again. "And if I seem 'ill-tempered' to you, maybe I'm hormonal because I'm pregnant. I forget... why am I pregnant? Oh wait. That's right." He shot Gabe again. "Because of you!" he screamed.
"It's not entirely my fault! Castiel helped!"
The sky darkened ominously. "Don't you dare lay blame on me, Gabriel," Castiel threatened. "I was not involved in your twisted, juvenile prank."
Everyone stared at Cas anxiously. After a few heavy moments, Dean asked, "Would you like to shoot him?"
"Thank you, but not now." Cas disappeared who-knows-where.
"How about you, Sammy?" Dean asked Sam.
Sam ignored Gabe's pitiful look. "I'll take a raincheck. How about you? Need me to get you more cartridges?"
Gabriel gasped in shock at Sam's cavalier attitude towards his [nonexistent] pain.
"Maybe just one more box." Dean chuckled immaturely. "This is more fun than I expected." Dean shot Gabe four more times while Sam was retrieving him another box.
"Call me if you need anything else. Maybe a candy bar to eat in front of him teasingly."
"Hey!" Gabe scolded.
"Actually," Dean realized, slouching in the chair, "I could go for some candy."
Dean spent all day 'practicing' on Gabriel. Cas sat next to him most of the day and even took a few shots himself. Sam also sat with them, reading pregnancy books mostly to himself. Around three in the afternoon, Bobby came home with Marcy, and he taught her how to shoot using Gabe for target practice. It came disturbingly natural to her to shoot at a man trapped in a circle, but everyone there had seen stranger things, so they ignored it.
Despite the surprise pregnancy (and maybe even including or because of it), it was a good day. In fact, the first few more-or-less symptomless weeks went fairly smoothly. But then, three or so weeks into the pregnancy, they stopped being symptomless. In fact, everything those damned books said would go wrong seemed to all go horribly, painfully wrong all at once.
(Obviously) To be continued.
A/N: I'm in a fic competition with Tashilover. When one of us posts, the other has three days to respond with a post. The loser has to grant the winner a fic request. I could use some extra encouragement to speed things along.