[Fic] Thursday's Child (5/?)
Author: WynterEyez
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: T
Characters/Pairings: Dean Winchester, Castiel, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer, Balthazar, 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,' contains spoilers for 'Let It Bleed.'
Disclaimer: I don't own them, obviously.
Warnings: References to past mpreg (I can't believe I'm doing this…)
Summary: Castiel brings a surprise home to Dean. It's gooey. And has tentacles.
Chapter Summary: In which Castiel becomes concerned about the effect of babies on rational adults, Dean copes by channeling his inner maid (who sadly isn't French,) and Balthazar pays them a visit.
A/N: As of this chapter, this story is about 52 pages long and has the highest word count of any of my stories. WTF? And it gets a bit frustrating at times making Castiel so vulnerable and needy. I love it when he's all bad ass in the show, and I'm dying to write him that way.
Five - Nobody's Fault But Mine
Castiel wakes up feeling better than he has in a long time. Maybe there is something to 'sleep' after all, though he still hates it; spending hours in a state of oblivion, waking up with no idea where he is or what might have been done to him while he slept… But the ache in his abdomen is less, and his Grace is brighter, though still shredded and hemorrhaging more than it should.
Dean is still asleep, but Danielle is awake, and she peeps a greeting when he slowly sits up. "Hello," Castiel responds hesitantly, not certain what she wants of him. She's still curled on Dean's chest, and his shirt is soaked through from the slime she produces. When Castiel speaks, she squeaks and begins to uncurl herself, tentacles grasping for him. Castiel obligingly ducks his head, letting her feel that he is there for her. It seems this is going to become a ritual for her, Castiel realizes, this need to reassure herself that he is there.
Satisfied, she crawls into his arms, detaching herself from Dean's shirt with a wet sucking sound that makes the other man jerk awake. Dean blinks for a few moments, then says, "What, no angel blade this morning?"
Castiel shrugs. "You kept still all night, so there was no appearance of a threat. In fact, you were a very good bed for Danielle. She was comfortable."
Dean smiles at the Nephil nestled in Castiel's arms. "Glad to know I have my uses." He sits up and stretches, wincing when the shirt, which had been stuck to his skin, pulls free. "So, how you feelin' this morning, Cas?"
Castiel responds with a growl. Why did they keep asking him that?
Dean grins. "You really hate that question, don't you?"
"It was a violent birth that left me virtually powerless, in constant agony, and under a death sentence. Obviously, I am not all right."
Dean's face falls. "Sorry, man… It's a human thing, I guess. We like to reassure ourselves that the people we care about are okay by asking."
"And lying by saying you're 'fine?'" Castiel asks. "If it reassures you, I am recovering. There is less pain, but still more than I am accustomed to experiencing." He gets to his feet and is pleased by how much steadier he feels on them. The tear in his belly is still painful, however, and he's impatient to get downstairs to ask Bobby to refresh the hot water bottle again.
"She slept through the night, didn't she? So," Dean muses as he slips out of bed, rummaging around until he finds a semi-clean shirt, "no 4am feedings for Dani then," Dean sounds pleased. "And is it safe to assume that she doesn't require diapers?"
"Danielle is far more efficient than humans when it comes to utilizing the nutrients in food. She uses everything, so there is no waste." Castiel is relieved by this as well; incontinence sounds… messy.
Speaking of food… Danielle is sending off waves of 'hunger', and is eying his feathers speculatively. Castiel is ravenous as well, a condition that isn't helped by a delicious scent wafting up the stairs. "What is that?" he asks, sniffing appreciatively.
"I think it's pancakes," Dean says. "And sausage."
Despite his gnawing hunger, Castiel manages to resist the urge to fly to the kitchen. He needs to conserve his slowly-returning strength, so he follows Dean at a sedate pace down the stairs.
Bobby is leaning against the counter, scraping his fork against an empty plate to get the last of the crumbs. Off to the side, something round cooks on a skillet, turning a golden brown as Castiel watches. It smells wonderful. Bobby points his fork towards the table, where a plate piled high with pancakes is sitting. "Those are all for you, and whatever else I can make with what's left of the batter. Go on, dig in."
The hunter's generosity towards Castiel in spite of his broken trust still astonishes him. He knows he did the right thing bringing Danielle here first, rather than immediately going into hiding.
Castiel wants to take a seat and devour the growing pile of pancakes on a plate in the middle of the table, but instead he follows along behind Dean as the hunter prepares a bottle of formula. Castiel hadn't paid much attention the previous day to how it was done, but this time, he's watching closely and committing it to memory. Angels have perfect recall, and Castiel will be able to do this on his own next time. Dean looks up when he's finished and says, "I can feed her if you want to eat." He gestures towards the food. Castiel's stomach growls in response. "So that's a yes, then?" Dean laughs.
Dean takes the chair next to Sam, Danielle in his arms sucking eagerly at her bottle, and Castiel sits beside him, in easy reach of the Nephil. The huge stack of pancakes is pushed in front of him, along with a dish of butter and a bottle of brown fluid. Castiel watches as Sam prepares his pancakes, watching how it's done.
He knows it's not good manners to eat so quickly, but he can't help himself; he's through the stack before Sam has even eaten half of his far smaller portion, and the plate of sausage falls victim soon after. Danielle eats far more slowly, but she still finishes at the same time as Sam. Once the bottle is removed from her cavernous mouth, she fixes her gaze on her uncle curiously.
Realizing he's the focus of her attention, Sam screws up his face, sticks out his tongue, and blows.
Castiel stares at him, wondering if Sam has lost his mind.
Then Danielle laughs, and Castiel is left wondering about her mental state as well. "What are you doing?" Castiel asks warily, as Sam repeats the gesture.
"Blowing a raspberry. Babies love it." Sam crosses his eyes and sticks his hands out on either side of his head and wiggles his fingers. "And these are moose antlers."
"I don't understand what any of this has to do with raspberries." Castiel is wondering if he needs to grab the Nephil and fly before whatever madness is infecting the youngest Winchester passes on to Danielle.
"They're just games, Cas," Sam says, finally catching on that Castiel is uneasy at his antics. "Babies like simple games like this."
"Oh," Castiel says, not quite believing the obviously mad man.
"Peek-a-boo is going to blow your mind," Dean says, shaking his head. He looks down at the Nephil and coos, "Aunt Sammy's silly, isn't he?"
Danielle squeaks.
"Aww, Dani loves her Aunt Sammy, doesn't she?"
"Dude, those had better not be her first words," Sam begins threateningly.
Dean just blows a raspberry at him.
Castiel realizes he's too late; they've already all lost their minds. He eyes Danielle suspiciously, wondering if this is some weird Nephilistic power she's manifesting, or if humans are always this strange around infants. Castiel fears it may be the latter.
When Sam stands, Dean passes Danielle to Castiel and follows suit. Castiel pauses in his efforts to lick the last of the syrup from his plate and watches as the three hunters head into the library, speaking in low voices as they gather up the packed bags piled on the couch that he hadn't noticed before.
It takes a moment for Castiel to realize what's happening, and when he does, his heart sinks.
They're getting ready to go on a hunt.
They're leaving. Without him. Which is understandable, from a tactical standpoint; he can't take the Nephil beyond the wards, and he's next to useless, too weak to fight, too depleted to fly, and too focused on Danielle to keep his mind on the mission. He'd be a liability, and in their position, he wouldn't hesitate to leave him behind.
Unfortunately, his emotions don't respond well to logic these days.
"You're leaving?" He hadn't intended to sound quite so dejected, but he seems to have little control over himself lately. Castiel's wings droop until the primaries brush the floor, and he hugs Danielle to his chest more tightly. Picking up on his distress, she starts peeping softly.
Bobby and Sam both turn to Dean, whose shoulders sag in defeat. "Told you," Bobby mutters.
Dean hands the bag he's holding to Bobby. "No… I'm not going anywhere. Just carrying Bobby's things for him - he's getting old, you know, and needs help with the heavy lifting." Bobby snorts. "Sam and Bobby can handle this without me." He gives Castiel a strained smile and says, "It's a research trip, anyway… they don't need me along for that."
Perhaps not, but Castiel can see how much he wants to go. Still, he appreciates the lie.
Despite knowing Dean isn't going anywhere, Castiel doesn't let him out of sight as Dean helps Sam and Bobby load their gear into what Dean calls 'that POS Chevelle of Bobby's.' He tries to keep out of 'earshot' - impossible, with his keen senses, but he's trying to give them the illusion of privacy - and makes an effort to distract himself with Danielle so they can discuss their plan of action. They're trying to keep him out of the loop, likely afraid he'll somehow act on whatever they learn. As if he could.
They still don't trust him. None of them do.
Still, he overhears everything, even though they're outside and he's got his face pressed to the window, watching. Danielle is watching as well, clinging to the window like a starfish to a rock. She knows something is going on, and she whimpers softly when Bobby and Sam get in the car. Castiel's own anxiety spikes until Dean starts walking away from the car, and it pulls out of the drive. His wings slump with relief; he hadn't realized until then that he'd been afraid Dean had been lying to him and had been planning to go all along.
By the time Dean comes back in, Castiel and Danielle are back on the couch, and the Nephil is much calmer for being in his arms. Still, she doesn't fully relax until she sees Dean. Castiel isn't so easily reassured; he can see the tension in Dean's stance as he studies them.
"So… it's just us for the next week," Dean says finally. "Time off. I don't know what I'm going to do with myself." He won't meet Castiel's eyes. Castiel is no expert in human emotions, but even he can see what's going on in Dean's head.
Dean isn't upset about being left behind to help take care of the baby. It's Castiel he doesn't want to be alone with. Without Sam and Bobby to act as a buffer between them, Dean just doesn't know how to deal with him.
For Danielle's sake, Castiel will do whatever he can to repair their relationship. For her sake, and, he admits, his own. He's lost his Father, and hundreds of his brothers and sisters. Castiel won't lose Dean Winchester, too. Angels aren't meant to be alone.
~oOo~
Castiel lays on his stomach across the soft green baby blanket, head resting on his folded arms and eyes on the Nephil as he struggles to comprehend her peculiar behavior. She's on the blanket beside him, flopped on her back with her wings splayed around her, and she's waving most of her tentacles through the air and making a nonsensical crooning noise for no discernable reason beyond the fact that she seems to derive some pleasure from it.
Castiel is certain this is a human thing, and thus will never make sense to him.
The remaining tentacles are either wrapped around one of his own, which he'd extended to form a protective ring around her; tightly gripping onto his abused primaries, making at least one of his wing-eyes look about to pop out of its socket; or holding on to the stuffed octopus Dean had bought for her. Castiel isn't sure what to think about the toy - it seems to be a mockery of one of his own aspects, and its empty eyes are unnerving - but Dean had told Castiel that toys helped develop a child's imagination and promote mental development. Castiel doesn't want the Nephil to suffer from the same mental deficiencies as angels, so he'll tolerate it.
Besides, Danielle already loves it.
Dean is off doing laundry; Castiel can hear him muttering about having to wash everyone's underwear. He'd been doing chores ever since Bobby and Sam had left; Castiel doesn't think the house has ever been this clean. Dean had mumbled something about not wanting his baby growing up in a disaster area, but Castiel suspects Dean is avoiding him.
Fortunately, he's not neglecting Danielle in the process. He'd mumbled something about picking up a few things for the Nephil the previous day, but they'd spent most of the day asleep, so Dean had put it all aside for when they could remain conscious for longer than ten minutes at a time. (Castiel resents that; he can manage an hour awake, at least, before sleep claims him.) He'd then taken a couple of bags out of the nearest closet and presented Danielle with the blanket they're currently lying on, as well as several others, and other odds and ends that Castiel can't figure out.
And then, of course, he'd given Danielle the creepy purple octopus.
He's a bit bewildered that she requires so much stuff. Bottles, blankets, plush animals… Angels don't have possessions, beyond their blades and, depending on an angel's Choir, a sign of rank or an instrument. Even their armor is a natural thing, a crystallization of the skin that's harder than any substance found on Earth. But here he is, with something that is undeniably his, even if Danielle isn't a possession. She belongs to him in a way that nothing else ever has, and he's overwhelmed by the responsibility involved. It's going to be too much for him to handle alone, he knows now.
Not that he'd be able to leave her… Although he's having difficulties sorting out his feelings for her, he knows he's no longer capable of smiting her, even as a mercy. And abandoning her isn't an option, either; she needs his Grace to survive and he… he doesn't want to be without her. No angel has ever been in his position; the Nephil born to human mothers had been raised by those mothers alone, and angel babies were the responsibility of the entire Host, which Castiel now suspects is a way to keep a strong bond between parent and child from forming, a bond which could potentially interfere with an angel's devotion to God.
Castiel doesn't think he's capable of handling such a bond, of having something so dependent, so devoted, to him. So he tries not to dwell on it, choosing instead to occupy himself by trying to understand television. He turns his attention back to the TV, which he'd left on a cartoon featuring a group of multi-colored ponies. It had been the only thing on that was even remotely appealing.
Human television is confusing. He finds he has trouble discerning between a fiction show and one with a basis in reality. Which is why he likes this cartoon; he knows it's fake, that these colorful, talking ponies don't exist in reality. Plus, they aren't murdering each other, fornicating, or starting the apocalypse. He likes it far more than the show he'd watched briefly with the screaming woman who's trying to find out which of the seven men she'd slept with is her baby's father.
The current episode, the second he's watched, is about a violently pink pony baby-sitting two tiny foals who are unimpressed with her attempts to take care of them. He's hoping to learn something from the show, but all it does is make Castiel feel uneasy with his current situation. Danielle is smarter and will likely become more powerful than the ponies in the show.
He may be, as Dean would say, screwed.
"Dude, tell me you're not watching My Little Pony," Dean groans somewhere behind him.
"I don't know what it's called," Castiel says, eyes glued to the screen. "But it makes more sense than the movie with the pizza man." The pink pony is now singing to the two infants, who aren't responding favorably.
"Isn't there anything else on?" Dean looks around, presumable for the remote, so Castiel tucks it under his chest where Dean won't find it.
"There is plenty on, but… Most of what I've seen… It almost makes me understand Lucifer's point about humans," Castiel says reluctantly. "Humans can be very selfish and foolish."
Dean smiles faintly. "Guess you've discovered reality TV, then. Yeah… it makes me feel that way sometimes, too. But we've got our good points." Then he scowls. "My Little Pony is not one of them." Privately, Castiel disagrees.
They lapse into silence, Castiel's eyes riveted to the screen, and Dean is shifting around stacks of books, attempting to put them in some semblance of order, Castiel assumes, but failing miserably. It reminds him a bit of his own ridiculous urge to rearrange the blankets before he sleeps. Except, in Dean's case, it's a way to keep them from talking.
"The purple unicorn reminds me of Sam," Castiel says, to break the uncomfortable silence.
Dean smirks. "Awesome. I dare you to tell him that when he gets back. Do I want to know if any of the ponies remind you of me?"
"The blue pegasus," he says, after giving the question serious consideration. "She is very brash, loud, and says 'awesome' nearly as often as you do." Anticipating Dean's next question, Castiel adds, "And at this time, I most resemble the timid yellow pegasus." It hurts him to admit it, but he's only a shadow of the fearsome angel of the Lord he'd once been.
And it's because he's so weak that Dean has been left behind to baby-sit him.
"Dean, I'm sorry," Castiel begins.
"'Bout what?"
"I know you wanted to go with them. It's my fault you were left behind - "
"Forget it, Cas, there's nothing to apologize for. It gives me a chance to get to bond with Dani, anyway." Dean lowers himself to the blanket, pausing as the invisible limb Castiel is hastily retracting brushes against his hand. "Was that - you know what, forget it, I don't want to know." Danielle gurgles and rolls over so she's leaning against Dean's ribs, the stuffed octopus clutched to her side, and immediately wraps several limbs around his hands. "Hey, Baby Girl!" Dean greets, and proceeds to make some of the most ridiculous noises Castiel has ever heard a human make.
He's a bit concerned about Dean's sanity. Babies seem to have a strange effect on humans (and ponies). It's a little alarming.
"How do you feel about her?" Dean gently disentangles his fingers from her grasping tentacles so he can run them along her downy wings. "You take good care of her, even though you're still new to this, and you're scarily protective of her, but it's hard to get a read on you. A human woman in your position wouldn't be as tolerant of a child thrust upon them like this."
Once, he would have thought any human women who rejected a gift from God like that to be stupid. Now, though, he understands all too well. Also, he's surprised Dean thinks he's doing a good job with Danielle, since he's already almost let her die of starvation.
"My strongest feelings are confusion and an overwhelming fear," Castiel says.
"No surprise there. I think every new parent probably feels that way. Especially one who wasn't expecting to be a parent."
"I'm… attached to her," Castiel says slowly. "I will guard her with my life, I will feed her and tend to all her needs until she no longer relies upon me." He supposes he sounds a bit callous, but it's more care than any angel is expected to give its offspring. He has to make up for the lack of an entire Host to assist in her raising, and the fact that he's willing to make that effort should count for something.
But it's obviously not the answer Dean wanted; he can see that in the way his face falls. "Attached, huh?" is all he says.
"You want me to say that I love her. I'm sorry, Dean. I do care for her… but I don't think I'm capable of the strong emotions you want me to feel towards her."
Dean doesn't have a reply to that, but he gives Castiel a searching look that the angel doesn't understand. But he doesn't comment, choosing instead to focus on Danielle, who has been wriggling against his side in an effort to gain his attention.
"So, what are these?" Dean's probing fingers have found a line of four bumps on top of her head, two on either side.
"I believe she will have my rack," Castiel says, running his fingers over the bumps.
Dean chokes. "Cas!" he yowls. "The Hell, man? You don't talk about your daughter that way!"
Castiel tilts his head, wondering what sort of faux pas he'd committed. "In what way?"
"About her," Dean holds his hands in front of his chest, a bizarre gesture Castiel doesn't understand, "rack!"
Castiel still doesn't understand Dean's indignation. "You asked. And you had no objection about me discussing my true form. I did tell you that my land aspect resembles an Elk," Castiel reminds him. "As such, I have antlers. Two racks of them, actually. These bumps are where Danielle will have antlers one day."
"Oh," Dean says sheepishly. "Right. That kinda rack."
"What kind of rack did you think I meant?"
"Ah… so, antlers, huh? That's cool." Dean continues to stroke Danielle soothingly, careful not to touch any of her bulbous eyes. She leans into the caress and coos contentedly, loving the attention. She's a very affectionate baby, and Castiel feels she's very lucky to have one parent capable of giving her the love she craves.
And then Dean goes very still. Castiel follows his gaze, and cringes when he sees what Dean has discovered: a line of scar tissue that begins with the nub of a severed tentacle and slices through an empty eye socket. The damage is usually hidden beneath one of Danielle's floppy wings, and Castiel hadn't even noticed it until they'd bathed the previous day. It's a hideous mutilation that Castiel might have been able to prevent, if he'd just known about the Nephil within him.
"Cas, what is this?" He runs his fingers along the ridge of puckered skin. "Why does she have scars? Old scars?"
"I believe she was close to the surface of my Grace, very near the skin of my vessel, when Rachel stabbed me. The blade must have gone right through me and hit her." There's anguish in his voice; Castiel had failed to protect her. "Because of Raphael's concealment spell, I didn't even sense her pain."
Dean rests his hand on Castiel's shoulder and squeezes. "You didn't know, Cas. You'd have protected her if you could have. And at least you killed Rachel before she could kill you or Danielle."
Castiel is silent for a long moment, considering. Then he decides he's never going to regain Dean's trust if he isn't honest. "Rachel attacked me because she found out about my alliance with Crowley. I had to kill her," Castiel confesses, "not only because she wanted to stop me, but because she would have turned my own troops against me."
"Jesus, Cas! When your own people try to assassinate you for working with a fucking demon, doesn't that tell you an alliance with Crowley is a bad idea?"
Castiel doesn't reply. He's said all that needs to be said on the matter, and nothing he can add will change Dean's mind.
Unfortunately, it's a reminder of what he has decided needs to be done. Just because he's out of the war, it doesn't mean the Heavenly civil war is over. "Dean," he says heavily. "I need your help."
Picking up on Castiel's tone, Dean tenses, instantly wary. "With what?" he asks, deceptively calm.
"I need to speak to Balthazar."
"No." Dean's grip on Danielle tightens. She squeaks in surprise, but she's not in pain. "He'll kill you. You said other angels would be able to sense the Nephil on you, Cas, and that they'd kill you before you could react."
"True. However, I've been missing for almost two days after speaking with Raphael. Likely, my people are upset by my disappearance and have been searching for me. My wards will have hidden my presence as well as keep anyone searching out, and your visible attempts at angel-proofing may lead them to believe that you don't want me here, but eventually, someone will figure out where I am. I need to speak to Balthazar before then, to let him know they need to stop looking." Castiel hesitates to bring this up, but it needs to be said. "I also need for him to find a way to contact Crowley and tell him the deal is off. If I remain out of contact for too long, he'll hunt for me as well."
"Shit," Dean groans. "That's the last thing we'd need."
Castiel suspects the salvage yard is going to be sporting several new devil's traps by the end of the day.
"I won't be without protection, Dean," Castiel assures him. "I will remain behind the wards at all times. And I will trap Balthazar in a ring of holy fire as well - that is, if you didn't use up the rest of the oil trapping me?" Castiel's tone is more bitter than he'd intended. The betrayal of being trapped by the humans he trusted had hurt far worse than the tongues of flame licking greedily at his Grace. His feathers are still singed from the imprisonment.
Dean doesn't sound apologetic as he says, "Yeah, we got enough left for a couple more angel traps. We weren't sure when we'd need them again."
"I would like you to be on hand for protection," Castiel says. And because I'm not sure I have the courage to face another angel alone, he doesn't add. "For me… and for Danielle."
"Cas, you're not bringing her -"
"Dean, I can't handle being separated from her right now," Castiel interrupts miserably. "If she's out of visual range, I panic. Bobby walked a few feet away with her and I nearly attacked him. I need her nearby. And she needs me." As much as it terrifies him to bring her so close to danger, tethered to this tiny, utterly dependent life, and separating the two of them would be disastrous.
Dean's voice is tight with anger when he replies. "All right. But we're taking every precaution, and if Balthazar gets too close, I'm deep frying his ass."
Castiel smiles grimly. "And I won't stop you. But have some faith in my abilities; even crippled as I am, I'm still faster than Balthazar when Danielle's life depends on it." Castiel abruptly yawns, then scowls. He'd never understood the expression "tired of sleeping" before, but it adequately describes his feelings towards his body's need for slumber. "Sleepy?" Dean smirks.
Castiel doesn't dignify that with a response.
Danielle begins pulling her limbs around herself, a clear signal that she's ready for a nap. Castiel is resigned to following her into slumber; this may be the most alert he's been since her birth, but his body's still recovering. Castiel obligingly drapes his wing over Danielle - and, by extension, Dean - and proceeds to get comfortable. Even though he feels a little ridiculous doing it, he pushes around the blanket a bit until it feels right.
"So, I take it we're not going to talk to Balthazar right now," Dean says, trying to wriggle out from beneath the heavy appendage. But Dean's firmly ensnared in Castiel's wing, and he's not letting the hunter get up. "Okay. Nap time. I can live with that."
Castiel shifts closer until Danielle is nearly squashed between them. She's thrilled by the closeness of both her parents, and wraps her tentacles around one each of their arms.
"That's it," Dean grumbles, voice muffled by Castiel's wing. "I'm ready for my boobs now."
It's an unusual request, but Castiel's too weary to give it much consideration. "Not right now, Dean. Maybe when my Grace is restored," he says sleepily.
"Wait… what? I wasn't serious… Wait, can you actually do that? Temporarily, I mean, like maybe for an hour or so? 'Cause it's been awhile…"
Castiel ignores him in favor of closing his eyes and losing himself to oblivion once again.
~oOo~
Two hours later, Castiel and Dean walk the perimeter of Castiel's wards, checking their strength and reinforcing them where needed. Dean is holding the sleeping Danielle, wrapped tightly in the green blanket, leaving Castiel free to work. The wards need his blood to work, to know that he - and by default, Danielle, since she shares his blood - are not to be affected by the spell.
It takes more blood than Castiel would have liked, and he feels the effects of blood loss by the time he's finished. He wants to curl up around the Nephil, safe behind his wards, cocooned within the comfort of his wings, but he can't, not yet.
Finally, he can't put it off any longer, and they prepare to summon Castiel's lieutenant.
They're performing the summoning and entrapment in one of the salvage yard's narrowest rows, at the very limits of Castiel's wards. The narrow gap between the rusted hulks of some of the salvage yard's oldest heaps leave only a small area where Balthazar can stand outside the wards and still talk to them, making it easier to trap him in the holy oil. To further ensure Balthazar walks into their trap, Castiel sits in front of the circle, the closest he can be without leaving the protected area. Dean is just outside the wards, putting the finishing touches on his summoning spell. Danielle is in Castiel's arms; as soon as Dean completes the spell, he'll take her and retreat to a spot behind an old junker, out of sight, but close enough to overhear everything and assist if needed. He's armed with an angel blade, just in case.
Dean finishes the summoning and steps across the wards, reaching to take their daughter so he can retreat to safety.
Except that Danielle isn't cooperating. She's either picked up on the fact that a summoning ritual has been performed and is frightened by it, or is responding to Castiel's own increase in anxiety, because she's wrapped most of her limbs around him and begins peeping hysterically. Dean and Castiel's combined attempts to pry her loose fail, and only further frighten the Nephil.
Which means that Danielle is exposed when a flap of wings heralds Balthazar's arrival, and Castiel wheels to face the other angel with his blade in hand. "So you live," Balthazar says. His tone is dry, but Castiel can hear the relief in his old friend's voice. "Your disappearance caused a bit of a kerfluffle. I've been doing what I can to keep everyone from panicking, but you know how hopeless most of our siblings are without someone to command them. Wouldn't wipe their own asses without orders -"
Castiel can see the moment Balthazar spots Danielle. The angel stops dead, and his wings mantle, feathers flared and razor-edged in instinctive response to a threat. His blade slips into his hand and he takes a step forward, only to be repulsed by the wards.
"Oh, Castiel," Balthazar breathes. "What have you done?"
~tbc~
Yes. Castiel is a brony. And I am convinced that his true form is, in reality, a My Little Pony.
Anyway, I've decided not to do a Christmas follow up to this. For now. To do it, I'd have to rush this fic, and then I'd have to rush the Christmas story, and I don't want to do that. So I'm going to take my time with this (which also means I'll have more time to work on the various Big Bangs sitting on my hard drive) and try to give you the best fic I can.