[Fic] Thursday's Child(3/?)
Author: WynterEyez
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: T
Characters/Pairings: Dean Winchester, Castiel, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer, Dean/Castiel
Beta: None, though that would've been a damn good idea, don't you think?
Spoilers: AU after 'The Man Who Would Be King.'
Disclaimer: I don't own them, obviously.
Warnings: References to past mpreg (I can't believe I'm doing this…), talk of smiting a Nephil
Summary: Castiel brings a surprise home to Dean. It's gooey. And has tentacles.
Chapter summary: In which Castiel shares ancestry with a black hole, Dean is domestic, Sam protects Cas from Chuck Norris, Bobby is Bobby, and the Nephil gets a name.
A/N: I know that in 'Let it Bleed,' Dean didn't know anything about H. P. Lovecraft, but since this is an AU, I figured, what the hey. He's referenced Vonnegut, so he's obviously more well-read than he pretends to be. Also? I can't believe the response to this! I've gotten more reviews and hits and faves in the past few days than for any of my other fics. Huh. I'm also thrilled that people like my little Nephil; I think it's adorable, but I'm weird like that and I wasn't sure what other people would think. And there was supposed to be plot in this chapter, but I was having way too much fun with character moments, so that got pushed back. Oops. And, again, lots of talking. For such a long chapter, not a whole lot happens.
Three - Dazed and Confused
When Sam wakes up the next morning, the first thing he does is find his phone and snap a picture of his brother and Cas. While Dean is still lying on his back, looking as though he hadn't dared move a muscle, Castiel has shifted closer, his head pillowed on Dean's chest and one arm thrown around his waist. The Nephil has made its way to the top of Dean's head, and looks as though it's nibbling on his hair. It's freaking adorable, Sam thinks, and he can't wait to get Dean alone so he can tease him about being an angel's hugging pillow.
But he won't say anything while Cas is listening; the angel probably isn't in the right frame of mind for even gentle teasing.
Dean grumbles, a prelude to waking. His eyes open, then roll down towards Cas. "Dude, what the hell?" he mumbles. Then he seems to realize that something is going on with his head and encounters well-slimed hair and a clinging Nephil, which he accidentally pokes in an eye.
The Nephil peeps in surprise.
Sam sometimes forgets just how fast Castiel is; one moment, he'd seemed to be sound asleep, and the next he's straddling Dean, the edge of his blade pressed to his throat.
"Ack! Cas! Getting a little tired of this!"
"I told you it would be wise not to move," he says exasperatedly, pulling the blade away but still pinning Dean to the floor.
"Sorry… I wasn't expecting to wake up and find your kid eating my head."
Castiel growls something that Sam doesn't catch that makes Dean blanch, and Sam decides he needs to defuse the situation before Dean gets himself killed.
"How are you feeling, Cas?" Sam asks. The angel looks better, but there are still bags beneath the bags under his eyes and his voice is still rougher than normal. There's also something different about him that Sam can't put his finger on at the moment.
"You ask too many stupid questions," the angel rumbles, shooting Sam a scowl.
He also seems a bit bitchy. So much for the dozens of questions Sam's dying to ask about the Nephil and angel reproduction and how Dean managed to knock up an angel of the Lord.
"Sooo…" Dean says, after Castiel has carefully detached the Nephil from his head and cradled it to his chest. "Ready for your first day as a Dad?"
"I am technically its mother, so I should be referred to as such," Castiel corrects him.
"Okay, okay… so you're Mama Cas." Dean smirks. "I'm not going to be able to say that with a straight face."
Castiel frowns, perhaps recognizing that there's a reference there that he doesn't understand. "You don't need to address me in that manner. I'm not your mother." His tone is scathing.
Yeah. Definitely bitchy. But Sam can't blame him, really. This is clearly beyond the angel's ability to cope.
Castiel carefully stands, looking steadier on his feet but he's obviously nowhere near recovered from his ordeal. The Nephil wraps its tentacles around his arm and chest and smushes itself against him. It's freaky just how flat it can get, looking like a smear of gore with bulbous eyes.
"Uh… should I be worried about this?" Dean holds up his slimy fingers.
Castiel shrugs. "It's simply a discharge resulting from the electrical properties of an energy being reacting with organic matter. It's composed primarily of water. It is completely harmless and should leave only a small residue when it dries."
"Yeah, well… dibs on the shower when the power comes back on."
Castiel shifts from foot to foot, and at first Sam thinks he's trying to sway to soothe the Nephil. Then he gets a look at Cas' face - the angel looks utterly lost. Worse than he'd looked when he'd been cut off from Heaven. Worse than when he'd come back to them practically human. This is something far outside his understanding, and he's desperately waiting for guidance.
And that wretched, hopeless look is only enhanced by the too-large clothing Sam had lent Cas; he looks tiny and fragile in it, and Sam kinda wants to give him a hug. Except that with his current hair-trigger protective instinct, he'd probably gut Sam before realizing it was a friendly gesture.
Also, his pants are slipping down, and Sam hadn't thought to lend him underwear, so a hug could be somewhat awkward.
"Seriously, Cas… how are you doing?" Dean tries, with more success than Sam. "You've been through a lot, and you didn't look too good when I brought you in last night."
"I could use some food," Castiel says reluctantly. "I'm too drained to properly maintain my vessel, and I'm starting to feel the effects."
And that's when it hits Sam just what looks so off about Castiel: he'd lost weight. When wearing the bulky trench coat, Castiel's figure is hard to see, but now that Sam is looking, it's obvious that he'd dropped more weight than is probably healthy for his vessel. Poor Cas; he must have been suffering for quite a while, and no one had even noticed.
"C'mon, Mr. Grumpy-pants, let's find you something to eat." Dean heads into the kitchen, Castiel trailing after and grumbling something about how his pants are incapable of expressing emotion.
Sam hangs back to gather up the bedding and pile it off to the side of the room, but his attention is on the kitchen, where it sounds like Dean has just sacrificed his pie to Castiel. And that the offering has been accepted with gusto.
"Dude, slow down! What are you, part black hole or something?" Dean sounds impressed.
"It is possible; much of the matter used in my creation was drawn from stellar phenomena, such as nebulas and comets. It's not inconceivable that a black hole was used in my formation."
"So… definitely gonna need to make something I can cook in large quantities."
Sam finishes clearing the room and follows them into the kitchen, and hides a smile at the sight that greets him.
Castiel is slumped over the table, chin cupped in one hand and the other on the Nephil, which is situated on another chair pulled close enough for them to keep in contact. The empty pie tin is on the table before him, completely clean even of crumbs. Dean has his head buried in the fridge, where's he's rooting around for something still edible.
Sam takes in the surprisingly domestic scene with an arched eyebrow. "Wow, Dean gave you the rest of his pie, huh? I thought he never shared."
Dean snorts. "He had my baby. When you do something like that for me, you can have my pie, too."
"I would not advise reproducing with your brother," Castiel says. "Children born of incest often have genetic abnormalities."
There's a thump that's probably Dean's head hitting one of the fridge's shelves. "Thanks… we'll keep that in mind," Sam says weakly. "What do you eat, Cas? I've seen you eat burgers, and I guess you like pie… is there anything we should avoid?" If he hadn't seen Castiel inhale burgers while under Famine's influence, he'd worry the angel might be the type to refuse to eat God's creatures. But Castiel hadn't exhibited any guilt over his gluttony, so Sam would bet that he'd eat pretty much anything.
"I should be fine with whatever is available," Castiel says unenthusiastically. Then, "I do like pie."
Dean practically beams. "You shoulda seen him eat that pie. If we find a pie eating competition with a monetary reward, we're totally entering Cas. Easiest money we'd ever make." And Sam thinks that Dean would probably come in second place.
Sam looks down at his - nephew? Niece? What do you call your brother's gender-neutral offspring? The Nephil's eyes are divided between gazing up at Castiel, following Dean around the kitchen, and staring curiously up at Sam. The effect is disturbing. Also, he can't help but notice it's inherited Castiel's disconcerting stare. Daylight hasn't much improved its appearance, though the down on its wings - all three of them - has dried into a soft gray fluff, which is a marginal improvement. It's still oozing, though, and Sam's not sure he wants those clothes back when Cas is done with them.
Dean pulls out a tray with about two dozen of the large brown, fresh-off-the-farm eggs, a block of cheese, and a sad-looking, slightly mushed green pepper. "How do you feel about omelets?"
"I've never had an omelet," Castiel replies. "But I'm not very picky about food at this time, so I imagine they'll be adequate."
And with that ringing endorsement, Dean sets to work. As he digs out the largest skillet he can find, Sam hunts through the freezer to see what else managed to survive the night. Most of the food near the freezer door is a lost cause, but wedged into a still-frosty corner is a package of bacon, which Sam tosses to his brother. He sorts through the rest of the contents and tosses out anything that isn't salvageable.
Bobby's not going to be thrilled with how much he's going to have to replace. Especially if Cas really does have a bottomless pit for a stomach.
Not that Sam's paying as much attention as he should; he's simply using the task as an excuse to keep an eye on Dean and Cas. After Dean's blow-up the previous night, Sam feels obligated to play mediator if there's another argument - especially since he doubts Cas is up to defending himself.
Except… Dean seems to have slipped into the role of parent as easily as he'd slip into his boots. Not that it surprises Sam; after all, Dean had practically raised him, he'd had an excellent relationship with Ben, and Sam had dim memories of a case when he was soulless where Dean had taken care of a Shifter baby.
Dean had made an excellent point the previous night: if this had been some plot of Castiel's to make them take him back into their home, then it would have been damned effective. Dean had always had a soft spot for children, even monster children (unless they'd already crossed a line and killed, anyway.) No matter how bizarre the Nephil looked, he'd take care of it.
"You seem pretty okay with this," Sam whispers when Castiel is momentarily distracted explaining to the Nephil why it shouldn't suck on his wings.
Dean shrugs. "It's not like our lives are normal. Of course I'd end up having a tentacle eyeball baby with a male angel." And before Sam can resume asking him just how that happened, Dean calls out, "So, have you thought of a name for the little guy?" as he cracks about half a dozen eggs into the pan.
Castiel's chin sinks lower as he slumps forward. "No, and I don't believe I could come up with something suitable. Creativity isn't a trait common in angels, and any name I choose would be very simplistic, and likely come from the Nephil's features." He looks dejected by his inability to perform such a simple parental duty.
"Like naming a cat 'Whiskers' or a dog 'Spot?'" Castiel nods miserably, and Dean pauses his cooking long enough to squeeze the angel's shoulder. "Hey, don't worry about it. Me and Sammy'll pick a name for him."
"Why do you call the Nephil 'him'?" Castiel asks, cocking his head.
"Because calling him an 'it' makes him sound like an inanimate object, not a person. You don't call your angel buddies 'it,' so why do you refer to the Nephil that way?" Sam asks reasonably.
"We use a neutral pronoun while in our true forms," Castiel says. "But you are correct; when we take vessels, we refer to each other as 'brothers' and 'sisters' based on the sex of our vessels. It does make humans more comfortable with us, I believe." Castiel looks ready to say more, but the Nephil once again latches itself to his unseen wings and he's occupied with prying it off.
"So, what do you think?" Sam wonders just what the Hell was appropriate for a kid who was part angel, part Winchester, part Flying Spaghetti Monster. "Any ideas for a name?"
"Well, he does look like something straight out of Lovecraft. What about Cthulhu?" Sam can tell Dean isn't serious, but Castiel shoots him a look of pure loathing.
"We are not calling it 'Cthulhu.'" Castiel's voice is firm.
"Why not? We could call him Lou for short. Or Chuck." Dean seems to the suggestion is reasonable; after all, the unholy offspring looks like it crawled its way out of some macabre horror novel.
"No." The angel is practically growling now.
"How about Howard, then, after H. P. Lovecraft?" Sam suggests.
"I am not naming any child of mine Howard," Dean says, aghast. "Naming a kid Howard is just cruel. All the other kids would beat him up!"
"Yeah, because the name is what people will focus on when they see your tentacled monster baby," Sam retorts. "It's better than Chuck."
"C'mon, Sammy, Chuck is an awesome name! How many Howards can kick ass like Chuck Norris?" Dean challenges.
"There's also Chuck Shirley," Sam counters. Chuck Shirley is pretty much the antithesis of Chuck Norris. "And upchuck." Which he's going to do if Dean mentions Chuck Norris again. Sure, he'd been good, way back in the time of the dinosaurs, but Sam thinks his time is past. Dean's just in denial.
"All right, all right… I won't call him Chuck."
"Still… Cthulhu? Really?" Sam snorts. "If you're going to go all Eldritch Horror here, he looks more like Nyarlathotep, anyway."
"No names that I can't even pronounce, Sammy," Dean says.
"I do not want the Nephil to have a name associated with Lovecraft!" Castiel snarls.
"Whoa, Cas… not a fan?" Dean sounds amused.
"Howard Phillips Lovecraft was one of the rare humans who could see an angel's true form and hear our voices, though not as clearly as some. There was an incident involving a demon possessed town where Lovecraft was passing through, and he and I came into contact. I attempted to reach out to him, but he could not hear me properly and mangled my name. And I believe he could only focus on my sea aspect, which may have made it difficult for him to believe I was an angel.
"Shortly after that, he published 'The Call of Cthulhu,'" Castiel concludes mournfully. "Uriel found the situation humorous."
Sam can see Dean struggling to hold back his laughter, and failing miserably. "Cas…" Dean finally sputters, "Are you telling us that you're Cthulhu?"
"I may have been the inspiration," Castiel corrects haughtily, "but I am not Cthulhu."
"Whatever, man. You're an elktopus."
"No Lovecraft, then. It was a joke, anyway." Sam studies the Nephil again, and it seems to have decided to focus the entirety of its attention on Sam. It reaches a quivering tentacle towards him and Sam reaches for it, after a glance at Cas. The angel is watching him warily, but doesn't seem about bring his smite on. The end of the delicate tentacle wraps around Sam's large fingers. They feel velvety soft, not at all like what Sam was expecting.
Dean sets a plate with the biggest, fluffiest omelet Sam had ever seen in front of Castiel. As the angel eyes it as though assessing its threat level, the Nephil probes at it with another tentacle. "Don't eat it too quickly; I need time to make the next one. The bacon should be ready then, too."
It never ceases to amaze Sam just how domestic his brother can be.
"Something that suits a half-angel baby…" Sam muses thoughtfully. Maybe something with an
-el at the end? "Nathaniel, maybe?" He tries to think of names that might not be attached to Cas' douche bag siblings. "Ezekiel? Muriel?" Dean winces. Okay, not Muriel. "Joel? Ishmael?"
"Now you're just making names up," Dean accuses.
"Ishmael is a name. Read Moby Dick." Sam rolls his eyes. "Samuel is also a great name."
"And no way my kid's named after you. Unless you die heroically. And stay dead."
Sam feigns a pout. "I don't hear you offering suggestions."
Dean says quietly, "Honestly? I never thought about what I'd name a kid. I can't think of anything that sounds 'right,' you know? Especially for an angel baby. I'm hoping that if you keep reeling names off, I'll hear the perfect one."
"Actually," Castiel says hesitantly, "it doesn't need to be an angelic name. I would like a name that would identify the Nephil as belonging to the both of us."
"You mean, something like Destiel? Or maybe Deaniel?" Sam jokes. Then he blinks as he realizes there actually is a name there, and a good one, at that. "Or… Daniel."
"I like Daniel." Dean's eyes light up. "Daniel Winchester. Has a nice ring to it. What do you think, Cas? Daniel?"
"Daniel is a very nice name," Castiel agrees. "It is biblical, and it is similar to both our own names. But I believe it is a boy's name, yes? If you insist on assigning a gender to the Nephil, it is more properly a 'she.'"
"She? You mean… she's a girl?" Dean looks down at his child in surprise.
"That is what 'she' implies," Castiel says dryly.
"Why didn't you say so before? It's important information to have when you're naming a baby!"
"Like I said before, our genders our complicated. We're primarily gender neutral, because we lack many of the characteristics that would make us truly male or female, but we do have varying degree of male or female traits. The Nephil, while technically genderless, expresses some female traits. "
"Soooo… which are you? 'Cause you kinda implied last night that it was the girly angels who had babies."
Dammit, Sam wishes Dean would hurry up and explain what happened between him and Cas!
"That is not necessary information, Dean." The angel stabs his omelet as if it had offended him. "I'm close enough to being gender neutral that any gender characteristics I have are negligible."
"Does his gender really matter? Male or female, he can still kick your ass," Sam points out. Cas shoots Sam a grateful look.
"Yeah, but… if Cas is really a chick…" Dean isn't going to let this go, and Sam waits for Cas to give him a well-deserved smack. Or smiting.
"Who is Chuck Norris?" Castiel interjects a little desperately, head tilted. It's clearly an attempt to change the subject. Sam gives him points for effort, even if his choice of subject matter makes Sam want to facepalm. "You've mentioned him before. Is he important?"
Dean sets the second massive omelet in front of Cas, along with a plate of bacon. "Who is Chuck Norris?" he repeats incredulously. He turns to Cas with a gleam in his eyes.
Oh. God. Sam knows that look; Dean is going to tell an angel of the Lord Chuck Norris jokes. Sam's going to have to derail this, before Castiel is irreparably brain damaged trying to figure out how Chuck Norris could strangle someone with a cordless phone or cut a knife with butter. "What about Danielle?" he blurts out. When they all turn to look at him, he babbles, "You said you liked Daniel, right? The name still works for a girl."
"Danielle Winchester," Dean nods. "I like it. Sounds classy. What do you think, Cas? Still like the name for a girl?"
Castiel considers this for a moment. "Yes," he says gravely, "it is a good name for her."
They all stare down at Danielle who, oblivious to the momentous occasion, has fallen asleep in Castiel's lap. Like this, with all her limbs pulled in around her and her eyes closed, she resembles a plate of gory spaghetti.
Sam thinks she's totally going to make a fortune in the horror movie special effects business.
Dean pokes at a smaller omelet he'd cooked on a different burner, one that was slightly brown due to Dean paying more attention to Castiel's food. He shrugs and cuts it in half, putting the halves on plates with a few slices of bacon, and hands one to Sam.
As Sam eats, he thinks, not for the first time, Dean is going to be an awesome father. And he desperately hopes Dean's going to continue to get the chance to prove it, and that the feeling he has that this will all end badly is just paranoia, rather than a premonition.
Dean doesn't finish his omelet; he eats half, then sets the rest in front of Castiel, who immediately finishes it off.
"Hey… does she eat?" Dean asks abruptly.
Cas frowns. "She feeds off my Grace. It's part of the reason I'm not recovering as quickly as I would otherwise."
"Yeah," Sam says, "but she's half Dean and, trust me, Dean eats. A lot."
Dean glowers. "What my brother's trying to say, is that she's half human, and might have human needs as well as angel ones."
"I… I don't know," Castiel says softly, with an expression of growing horror. "Dean, I don't know!" He rubs the back of his neck, showing more anxiety than Sam had ever seen the angel express. "I don't know anything about babies - angelic or mortal! How am I going to take care of her?" He slumps, like he's trying to curl in on himself but can't with the Nephil in his lap. Sounding devastated, he whispers, "Perhaps it would have been kinder to put her out of her misery, after all, before I kill her through ignorance."
"Hey, don't you talk like that!" Dean snaps. "You're new at this. No one expects you to know what you're doing. And we'll be here to help you." Dean squeezes Castiel's shoulder.
"How?" Castiel demands. "You've never raised a Nephil."
"Hey, I raised Sammy, didn't I? And he turned out okay."
"Sam started the Apocalypse. And drank demon blood. And fornicated with a demon," Castiel points out.
"Yeah, but he doesn't do illegal drugs, he's not in a gang or a cult, and he didn't knock up a cheerleader. I think I did good job with him, considering," Dean says, deadpan.
"Thanks," Sam mutters. But he supposes Dean is right; he has many strikes against him, and he's somehow still managed to be one of the good guys. That's got to be a point in Dean's favor, right? "But he's right, Cas; we'll be here for you and Danielle. We won't let anything happen to her," he says fiercely.
"Thank you," Castiel whispers. He still doesn't sound too certain, but his faith that they can help him raise a baby is touching.
"I don't think we have anything a baby can eat." Dean opens the fridge again, though Sam knows he isn't going to find anything except beer and condiments, and something that's either components for some ritual or month-old chili on the verge of evolving sentience.
"I had to throw away the milk," Sam says apologetically. "Guess we'll have to run into town to get some formula for her to try."
The discussion about the best place to find formula in Sioux Falls - which, they assume, likely has power by now - is interrupted when Castiel nearly faceplants against the tabletop. The angel looks startled and dismayed by this, and scowls deeply.
"Having trouble staying awake there, Cas?" Dean asks.
"No." But when he tries to stand, he sways on his feet and Dean barely manages to catch him before he swoons. "Yes," he corrects himself reluctantly, as Sam comes up on his other side to help support him.
"Let's get you to the couch," Dean says. "You can take a nap or whatever."
"I've slept enough," Cas grumbles, but he permits them to sit him on the couch.
"Then don't sleep," Dean shrugs. "Just get off your feet before you fall of them."
Despite Castiel's protests, he does end up lying down, with Danielle tucked up on his chest. He even closes his eyes, but from the tension in his shoulders, it's obvious he's not sleeping.
The head to the next room, sitting where they can keep an eye on Cas but still give him some space.
"Think angels get post-partum depression?" Dean asks. Under different circumstances, the question would sound a little douche-y coming out of his brother's mouth. But now, he sounds genuinely concerned for Castiel's welfare.
"How would I know?" Sam wonders why his brother thinks he's the expert here. It's not as if he'd had Angel Reproduction 101 in Stanford. He glances back toward Cas, who'd opened his eyes again and had angled his head so he could watch the sleeping Nephil. He has the same hopeless, bewildered expression he'd had when he'd first woken up. "But he's been through a lot, so it's no surprise he's not himself."
"You have no idea," Dean smiles sadly. "On the bright side, at least we know he's not a threat anymore. No way he's cracking the door to Purgatory like this."
"Speaking of Purgatory…" Dean rolls his eyes, but Sam presses, "Crowley's not going to just give it up just because Castiel's on maternity leave, Dean. We still need to find out how to stop him from opening the doorway." Sam picks up the book he'd been reading the previous night before it had gotten too dark, and Dean picks up a book at random from the nearest 'to read' stack, and they get to work.
Or at least, they try to. After skimming a few pages, Sam finds himself pushing the book aside and picking up one he remembers as having a section on Nephilim. When he sneaks a glance at Dean, he realizes his brother had the same idea, because he's now poring through a book of angel lore.
They've been at it for nearly an hour when they hear the sound of an engine pulling up the drive: Bobby, finally back from his errand.
"Why's Cas sleepin' on the couch with the son of the Blob?" are Bobby's first words when he finds Sam and Dean.
"I don't think he's actually sleeping," Dean deflects. "He's just pretending until he decides if you're a threat or not."
"That depends, don't it? Before I left, we agreed he was Public Enemy Number One. Now he's in my supposedly angel-proofed house and taking up room on my couch."
"Yeah… turns out we suck at angel-proofing."
"You boys wanna explain why we're talking to the angel again?" Bobby demands.
"Uh…" Dean tries. "Er…" He's completely at a loss. Sam can understand; there's really no good way to say your supposedly male angel friend is now your baby mama. He turns to Sam, silently asking, A little help, here?
No way. Sam's gonna sit back and watch while Dean fumbles through this one on his own. He just wishes he had popcorn.
After a few false starts, Dean finally manages, "Cas sorta… had a baby last night."
"So that thing's an angel baby? Huh." He doesn't sound as shocked as he should have. Then again, this is Bobby. "Not quite what I would've expected."
"She's a Nephil, actually," Sam corrects. Yeah, he'd planned to stay out of this, but if he left it up to Dean to remember the name, he'd probably end up calling her a 'nympho' or something.
"A Nephil? Nephilim are half human." Bobby's eyes narrow. "What did you do, Dean?"
"Me?" Dean holds up his hands defensively. "Why do you think I did anything?"
Bobby just arches a skeptical eyebrow. "'Cause I know you, and 'cause you and that angel share a 'profound bond,'" he says dryly.
Dean shoots Sam a dirty look. Sam says innocently, "I was soulless when I told him about that. I guess I thought it was funny."
"Plus, you're pretty much the only human Cas spends any time with. He ain't exactly the type to have one night stands with strangers, so it's gotta be yours."
"There's Sam - "
"He thinks I'm an abomination," Sam says helpfully.
"And you," Dean points at Bobby.
Bobby snorts. Sam winces. Yeah… that was an image that was going to haunt him.
Dean gives up. "Okay… so, maybe… she kinda is mine."
"I figured it was only a matter of time before you slept with the wrong being and ended up with a half-monster baby," Bobby sighs. "I just wasn't expectin' Cas to be the mom."
"Yeah… neither was he," Sam says.
"How the hell does that even happen?" Bobby asks. "You two idjits even consider that Cas might be up to somethin', or was all forgiven just 'cause he has a baby?"
Dean glowers. "Give me some credit, Bobby. That was my first thought. But… it's not like that."
"So why are we trusting him?"
So Dean explains. Tells them about Castiel's encounters with Raphael, and the role the archangel plays in angelic pregnancy and birth, and how the birth of a Nephil is such anathema that Cas' own people would execute him and Danielle on sight.
Finally, Sam has the explanation he's been waiting for, and it's one that leaves him cold. He'd honestly been expecting to hear about a drunken encounter between Dean and Castiel (Dean had been damn determined for him to lose his v-card, after all), or that angels went into heat and Dean had been Cas' only option, or maybe even something inane like conception through osmosis. Something cute he can tease Dean about for all eternity, something he can tell embarrassing stories about to his odd-but-weirdly-adorable niece.
But this? This was an act of war with devastating consequences for Castiel and Danielle, and the humans Cas has been working so hard to defend. And it's no wonder Cas looks like a wreck; if this had happened after he'd pulled Sam's body out of the Cage, then Castiel had been carrying and nurturing Danielle for two years without knowing.
Poor Cas.
"Kinda hard to stay mad at him after hearin' that. Balls," Bobby mutters.
Yeah, Sam thinks, that about sums it up.
~tbc~
Originally, the Nephil was going to be male, and named Daniel. But then I found one kid!fic where Dean and Cas had a kid with that name. Then another. And another. It seems to be the second name choice after 'John.' But I'd already written quite a bit and thought of the Nephil as Daniel so I figured, screw it, I'd keep the name, but make the Nephil a girl.
And sorry this took so long; I got sidetracked preparing for the Chicago Supernatural convention. But the next chapter is nearly done, so I'll try to have it up by this weekend.