Seeing In Black

by TGyamiBakura

Dean is pissed when Castiel returns after the leviathan debacle. Cas continues to work with the brothers to defeat Dick and his army, all while trying to earn Dean's forgiveness. Taking their relationship to new-much scarier levels, Dean and Cas find out the hard way the extent of God's wrath when Dean suddenly finds himself feeding for two.

12. Crazy Little Thing

Seeing in Black
TGyamiBakura
Chapter 12: Crazy Little Thing

Thank you all again so much for your love and involvement with this story. I have really great readers and you help me so much you have no idea XD

This was originally part of the next chapter but I had to break it up, so i'm sorry for the lack of smut in this one but I promise it will be worth the wait for the next chapter :P

Note: PLEASE SEE IMPORTANT POLL DETAILS AT THE END OF THIS CHAPTER

::

As the sun rose upon a cool, late-spring morning, Dean Winchester could be found sitting in a small clearing of forest, his head bowed as he breathed deeply through his nose. The only noise in the forest was the chirping of birds and waking insects around him. The dew shimmered in the gleaming light of the new sun and the only thing disturbing the peace was the storm brewing inside of the man's head.

Dean had requested complete and utter solitude and he was grateful that Castiel didn't question it, for what he had to do this early morning was definitely a delicate issue:

He was thinking.

More precisely, thinking about things he refused to think about.

The numerous things he had sworn to the dark recesses of his mind were steadily growing into something unmanageable and he'd already known he'd never get away with not thinking about them. The things he shoved back there to collect dust always seemed to come back and bite him in the ass and, as it became clear that his decisions regarding these matters no longer only affected him, Dean was forced to be a grown up about it and bring the matters to the forefront of his mind. They were steadily becoming real and, just like all other instances in the past, inaction would bring more harm than good. He wasn't the most intelligent of the Winchesters, but Dean could learn from his mistakes.

The time of ignorant bliss was over and he had to take some responsibility.

Dean listened to the first waking sounds of morning-bird songs and he suspected it was only around 6 am. Castiel would be awake—Well, he was always awake unless Dean specifically told him not to be. Castiel swore he didn't need something as tedious as naps but Dean knew better than that.

To the outside person, it would appear that Castiel never tired, but living with him 24 hours a day had taught Dean a few things about his resident angel.

Castiel needlessly stressed himself out about everything. From the meaning of existence to the merits of vegetable oil versus olive oil; Cas would ponder about it endlessly.

If he thought too much about these things, he would eventually close off and Dean would notice him staring off into space whilst his mind plummeted into the chaotic mess that was Castiel's psyche. Dean had walked in on him pouring a cup of coffee and letting it overflow resulting in the angel nearly take his skin off. Dean had yelled at him then and told him he needed to turn his pain receptors on if he was going to be such a space case. It was either that, or get some proper sleep every now and then. Dean discovered that if Castiel slept at least a few hours every few days, none of that happened. It wasn't that Cas's body was physically tired, but he would just think himself into oblivion sometimes and forget about real life. Sleep seemed to offset that—Like rebooting a computer and dumping away all shit that kept building up.

This brought Dean to one of the things he was supposed to be thinking about this morning.

Boredom.

Castiel and Dean were very clean people and most of the cleaning of the ancient house had been finished within the first week, the rest of it during the second one. They were on their third week in this house and Dean was quickly finding out that he could only handle so many hours of Law and Order SVU before he started going crazy. He wasn't alone. The reason why Castiel thought so much was that he literally had nothing else to do. He would watch television with Dean, learn some of his favorite computer games, but Dean discovered that mindless entertainment wasn't really high on Castiel's interest list. Dean could only handle so much of it too.

Nah, he and Cas were definitely not kept housewives.

They needed to do something. They couldn't be left to their thoughts because, as much as Dean knew he needed to think about important things, there were some things that he literally couldn't think about or it would consume and destroy him and that was definitely not something he could afford right now. Forty years in hell wasn't simply worked out by thinking or talking it out. It was something he would have to live with. Thankfully, sleeping with Cas seemed to keep the nightmares at bay, so that was progress in his mind.

Dean knew that Cas couldn't be left to his thoughts either, because the angel still held so much guilt over how he'd been after consuming leviathan; How he tore apart his brothers and sisters and betrayed Dean. There would be some days when Cas would simply stare out the window for hours and literally not see anything. It was different from his usual spacey-ness because Cas would get this sad little wrinkle in his forehead that signified that he was troubled in the deepest sense. Dean didn't need to ask to know what he was thinking about then, because his behavior was usually preceded by an offhand, self-degrading comment about how he'd messed up on cooking or something and how he'd already failed Dean before, he didn't like doing it again.

Dean would scold him then, tell him that it was water under the bridge and they had to move past that. Obviously it didn't do much good.

They needed a job to focus on or they would both go crazy. If Dean couldn't hunt, then he needed to do something else. And thankfully, hunting wasn't the only thing Dean was good at. He was definitely more than capable at fixing cars and it seemed like this town was short of good mechanics. Castiel wasn't a problem either because the guy had a mental capacity of a freakin' university. He could learn any trade and excel in it, so that wasn't really the problem.

The problem? Getting a job here meant putting down roots.

Putting down roots meant that this place would inevitably become his home. Dean hated calling places home because, for some reason, the universe was out to destroy anything that belonged to him, anything that he dared to get comfortable with, anything he loved, and Cas had been a part of his and Sam's family since the apocalypse. Castiel was dear to him and his relationship with him was clearly no longer platonic. Dean had already decided that Castiel was at least as important to him as Sam, now, which wasn't a good thing. It seemed that everybody he ever loved died or got hurt some way. Everybody he formed relationships with. . .

This brought to the next problem he had to think about.

A relationship? Was that what this was? No. . . They hadn't talked about it so it couldn't be.

But what were they, actually?

Cas has made his intentions clear and the ball was now in Dean's court. Just how long could Dean go on avoiding the giant elephant in the room. How could the hunter stuff away his pride long enough to say what needed to be said? What was it that needed to be said?

Dean had been careful not to indicate in the slightest that he wanted them to become more. A couple. Boyfriends. Unfortunately, Dean was certain that the only thing stopping them from being just that was his determination not to declare it as such. Dean hadn't said anything to Cas about actually making this real (unless you count the hopeless ramblings of a dying man that never actually happened) and Castiel seemed fine with just taking what he could get. So, for now, their relationship was this weird, misshapen blob of goo that only took form when having sex or in very Notebook-y situations. It was lodged deep within limbo between friends and lovers and Dean didn't know where he wanted to go with it.

He knew they couldn't just be friends like before. Cas had made it clear that he didn't want that and Dean would feel like an ass if he tried to go back there now. He didn't really want to be just friends anyways. The sex was awesome and Cas was. . .

Dean bit his lip, his face heating up and that warmth in his chest started growing at the memory of what transpired when Castiel saved his life. The thoughts they'd shared, the feelings and the closeness. It had been like their minds were made to fit together like that and it was intoxicating—Dean had felt so complete. The thing that scared the hunter the most was that saying that sounded like he was admitting he could be with Cas and only Cas forever.

Did Dean want to take the dive head first into the binding sea of commitment?

Dean felt the warmth in his chest grow to his neck and face. Was he really even considering that? Cas was distinctly male, angel or not. He couldn't even settle down with girls let alone guys. Almost 20 years of tits didn't just go away. Just because he had a little bit of rainbow grass growing on the other side of the fence didn't necessarily mean he was any less into lovin' and leavin' girls than he was four weeks ago. What was to say he wouldn't start wanting to have sex with girls again in a month or even a few weeks?

The problem was Cas. The angel hadn't taken too kindly to watching Dean kiss another girl and the hunter really didn't know what to do about that. . . There really was no reason for him to go searching for another girl to sleep with anyways because to be perfectly honest he was fine just being with Cas. What would be the point of upsetting the angel again? He knew Cas had feelings for him and he'd studiously ignored that bit and continued being physical with him, regardless. So it was his own fault that he'd gotten in this deep. The last thing he wanted to do was to lead the guy on. There wasn't any easy way to separate himself from Cas now and he was in trouble. If he were to fuck another girl right now, it would just hurt the angel and Dean really didn't want to do that.

Besides. . . They kind of had this future with this kid-thing. . . Dean really wanted Cas to be a part of that.

As much as Dean was afraid of getting closer to Castiel, he was more afraid of his kid growing up and not knowing his awesome dad. Yeah that was definitely more important than being the playboy he'd always been. Perhaps he needed to do some growing up and, well, being with Cas exclusively? Maybe that would be a good start.

It was only terrifying for Dean because it was so easy to see himself devoting his life to being with Cas. Hell it was already established that Dean kind of wanted that—He'd said so in that damn dream world. The problem was that nothing good in his life ever seemed to work out. He was sure it was going to blow up in his face somehow, but this was something he couldn't really negotiate on. His. . . their kid kind of depended on this and Dean would be damned if his kid wanted for anything. Dean would make this work, and if that meant throwing away his pride and everything Dean had ever known, he would do it.

And it wasn't like he didn't feel anything for Cas.

That brought Dean to the biggest problem of all.

Dean tangled his fingers in the dew-soaked grass and a squirrel scurried past him, completely unaware of all the problems in the world. The hunter's eyes shimmered jade in the sunlight, filtered by hundreds of leaves in the canopy of the forest. He looked unseeing as he allowed his mind open enough to break the flood of emotions he'd had locked away for longer than he could remember.

All at once, his very core was shaken by the onslaught of feelings. He let out a shaky breath and suddenly it felt like a weight from his ever-growing stomach was mirrored on his back and he could barely hold upright. He jerked forward onto his knees and braced himself on the ground panting in fear because when had it become like this? Had it always been this intense? This feeling that seemed to play home to every other feeling in the book. Happiness bred home to sorrow, Bravery complimented fear. Peace was distorted by chaos.

And hatred?

Hatred was a consequence of. . .

Right now, he hated Sam so much. He hated that he couldn't trust his own brother, hated that Sam was so vulnerable to Lucifer.

Dean hated that he'd let himself be so vulnerable in that mind-link with Cas.

Dean closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath as it felt like his heart was about to burst. Just that Dean was even thinking about applying this feeling in any other way than the most strictest familial sense was completely ridiculous. He couldn't. He absolutely positively couldn't have let it get this far. This was something he'd never felt before about anybody—Never let himself feel about anybody,but whenever Dean thought about it, only one face came to his mind:

Dark hair, blue eyes and a wrinkled trench coat.

The feeling burned. It consumed him and Dean felt as though the world decided to swallow him up in a pit of flames. Only the flames didn't hurt like the ones in hell did. These flames felt almost liberating—Burning him and forging something new, something exciting. Dean wouldn't be fooled though. He knew what this was. There was a good reason why he never felt this way about anyone. If it was anything like what he felt for his family—Sam, John, Mary, then it wasn't worth the effort.

Dean would feel great and he would get comfortable, maybe even let himself be happy. He would be so happy and then something in his already fucked up life would come and snatch it all away. Oh, Dean knew all about this feeling, only this time it would be so much worse.

This was just another way to make the hunter more vulnerable than he already was. It was so much and it was so familiar to everything that had ever hurt him in his life because he'd lost so many people and they had meant so much. This beautiful feeling was tainted so deeply by misery that Dean didn't know if he'd be able to recover enough to feel it again without being torn apart.

He took one look around and shut off that feeling instantly, the other ones still wreaking havoc but not nearly as turbulent as before.

The warm, spring morning was frigid now and Dean could see the dew that had been on the grass was turned to frost. It reminded him all too well of the time in fairytale land when he'd frozen the wedding chapel. This was the work of an angel's Grace. His baby's Grace.

His emotions had been terrifyingly chaotic then as well and he hadn't had any hope of controlling it. He knew now why it had happened and Dean couldn't let that happen again. There were just too many lives at stake.

He sucked in a deep breath and threw all of his concentration into the mojo around him. If he could do this, that meant it could be controlled and damn it, if he was going to be stuck with freaky angel powers he might as well learn how to use them.

The power had originated from the feelings he'd unleashed and if he could just reign them in a little, he might be able to manipulate it. The tension fell away from his upper body and he managed to cool his thoughts a bit, instead focusing on the way the emotions fed the power coursing through him. It reminded Dean of a tightly coiled rope and if he could just give it a little slack. . .

The air became a little warmer.

Tightening it more than it already was formed more frost that crept up his shoes. It was pretty awesome, but he felt very exposed doing this and Dean wasn't sure he was comfortable with it. He was also feeling a little lightheaded and that probably wasn't a good sign.

He felt, rather than heard the bushes rustling behind him and his head snapped around. Somebody was there. Somebody was watching him with eerie eyes.

Yellow eyes.

Dean's eyes connected with the glowing yellow eyes in the depths of the forest. Instantly he was brought back to the time that they spent chasing that bastard demon that took his mother away. A defensive fist curled at his side as he held the gaze—of what? He had no clue. It was a boy, looking about nine or ten years old, seemingly human with tattoos covering his arms and chest of symbols Dean didn't recognize. His hair was bright red and he looked awfully pissed off.

And then there were the fucking wings sprouting from his back.

They were drawn in defensively, the plumes flat tones of reddish brown. They were nothing like Castiel's, smaller and a world less magical than his own angel's. Dean couldn't feel any Grace from him and lately he'd been feeling that shit pretty strongly lately, so what? He had wings but wasn't an angel? Dean had seen too many demons in his day to mistake this creature for one. He didn't feel the suffocating sensation of darkness while looking into its eyes, though they were certainly haunting in the most uncomfortable way. He breathed steadily through his nose, waiting for the creature to make the first move.

The angel-boy was crouching in a defensive position and just fucking staring. Dean would have reared back, telling him to get a fucking life—seriously, take a picture or something, had he not had the insatiable urge to find out what the creature (person? Angel?) wanted. He would have even been better off demanding who and what the hell he was, but Dean froze. He wasn't scared, because for some reason he could just tell that the kid wasn't hostile—Okay maybe a little hostile, but more hostile-y wary or something.

Dean wasn't going to fault him for that. The boy just seemed really curious. He was wearing what looked like brown leather chaps that laced at the sides, and what was that? A loin cloth? He didn't have shoes either. It reminded him of traditional native American dress in a way, but it was too intricate. The leather had designs not unlike the tattoos on his chest and Dean wondered what they could mean. Maybe he had a tribe? Maybe that was his tribe's symbol or something.

After a few minutes of staring, Dean realized that the kid was waiting for his move. Dean rolled his eyes.

"You want an autograph or somethin'? This ain't a free show." Dean could make out the faint glimmering of bared teeth before the Angel-boy whipped around and bolted away, feathers ruffled in agitation.

Dean stood up, brushing off his pants before striding up to the house, not liking the conversation he'd have to start out: "Cas your security sigils have been breached by a tadpole angel".

::

"This is concerning, Gabriel. If it were an angel that had crossed my barriers, I would have been alerted." Dean was tensely sitting on the ottoman in the living room, watching as the angels argued and really, it was kind of intense.

"Maybe your barriers are subpar. You were always daydreaming in defense training." Castiel stood up and glared at his brother warningly. Gabriel snorted, as if amused at the thought of Castiel fighting him at all. "Don't get your panties in a twist, little brother. I'm sure they're fine. Obviously it's not an angel that Dean saw."

"But it had wings—Very little wings though." He indicated with his thumb and forefinger. "Kid sized. It was weird. They were nothing like Castiel's. They were very. . . human in a way. Like if humans suddenly sprouted wings they might look like that. All the same colors as we have, not particularly amazing. Just regular. . ."

"If humans sprouted wings. . ." Gabriel chuckled to himself. "I'm going to need to see it for myself." Gabriel pressed his fingers to Dean's head and instantly he was knocked backwards, barely staying on his feet. "What the hell?!"

"I'm not letting you into my head whenever you damn well please, Gabriel." Gabriel blinked.

"How are you able to force me out?" Dean shrugged. Ever since the mind meld with Cas, Dean had grown more aware of his own mental barriers and it wasn't too hard to manipulate them if he tried hard enough.

"I don't know, but it's damn useful." Gabriel huffed.

"Well I still need to see!"

"Then ask nicely." Dean said, sweetly. Gabriel narrowed his eyes, obviously not terribly amused at the idea of having to 'ask' for anything at all. He grit his teeth.

"You're an idiot." He said. "You're the one in danger here, not me."

"He has a point, Dean. It would be preferable if Gabriel could ascertain the problem at hand."

"I want you to do it." Dean said to Cas, stuffing down that nervousness and almost excitement at having Cas in his head again. He ignored Gabriels complaint "Really?" and continued, glaring at the archangel-turned-trickster. "I don't want that jerk in my head." Castiel opened his mouth briefly before closing it and nodding. He moved to Dean, rubbing his shoulders soothingly. Dean relaxed under the familiar touch and gasped when suddenly he felt Cas's consciousness knocking at the door. Dean still didn't want to recreate that deep connection from before, but he brought the image of the boy to the forefront of his mind and drew the focus to that only before opening it.

Cas drew in a breath and Dean could feel the thought being burned to the angel's memory. When Cas withdrew completely, Dean was left mentally grappling for something to hold onto and, when he realized that Cas wasn't going to come back, tried to ignore how disappointed he felt.

Gabriel was instantly pressing his fingers against Cas's forehead. It was a moment before he opened his eyes again.

"Of course the nephilim would get word of this. . ." He said through gritted teeth.

"Nephilim?" Dean said, brow's drawn together tightly.

"Half-angel, half-human. Technically what you got in your belly right now." Dean frowned, not liking the idea.

"There's more? Wasn't this," He gestured to his belly. "The only half-angel on Earth?" Gabriel shook his head.

"No, Dean. Your baby is not the only nephilim on this planet." Gabriel's eyes were distant and Dean wondered just what the millennia old angel was seeing.

"Gabriel. . . It is believed that angels can't get humans pregnant."

"That's true, now. But a few thousand years ago it wasn't." Gabriel sighed. "Aside from a few human texts, all evidence from that time has been erased completely. It was a combined effort of me, Michael and Uriel to make sure that the events of that time were erased from the memory of the Host." Castiel furrowed his brow.

"Explain, Gabriel." Gabriel pulled out a sucker, unwrapping it and tossing it on the floor (Dean scrunched his nose at the action) before sitting on the couch, pulling Cas into his side and leaning heavily against him. Cas was still, his eyes narrowed uncomfortably and Dean felt sympathy for the angel. Gabriel sucked on the sweet before popping it out of his mouth and speaking.

"The first Guardian angels were called 'Watchers'. Watchers were sent to Earth to protect and observe humanity. They taught humans all sorts of trades; weapons, writing, meteorology and lunar cycles, but they ended up getting a little too close to the local girls and babies started popping out and that's where the problems started." Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Dean rolled his eyes, sitting down in his chair because he sensed a long-winded monologue coming on.

"There were all sorts of problems with angel babies." He explained, arms gesticulating dramatically to explain how much of a problem it really was. "For one, all the human girls died if they were pregnant with an angel's baby. The Watchers, dunderheaded as they were, were completely oblivious. They took refuge in the taverns and various frivolities and it wasn't until the deaths spiked that they realized the babies were theirs." He looked at his brother. "I wasn't lying when I said I didn't know that your baby needed Grace to survive, Castiel. I remembered the Catastrophe from before and acted based on mere assumptions. I only knew that Mama Dean here would die if left on his own." Gabriel continued, Dean glared at him, not liking the new nickname one bit.

"The mothers died within the first weeks of their pregnancies. The babies consumed their souls. You know firsthand what happens when souls are consumed." Gabriel looked at Castiel pointedly. "The nephilim of that age became motherless, winged monsters that terrorized humans with their fearsome strength and bloodlust. The flood was God's response to this and a number of other nasty things that cropped up on Earth. He sent me, Michael and Uriel to orchestrate this and keep this dirty secret away from the rest of Heaven. My job was to pit the nephilim against one another and let them destroy themselves. And oh, did they ever." Gabriel's eyes glazed over at the memory. Dean was just a little jealous that he didn't get to see it. Gabriel continued on a more serious note. "What hadn't been accounted for were the human women they'd already raped. The babies they produced killed the mothers instantly as well, and though they had power much like the first generation, they were not mindless beasts like their fathers. However, still had little wings." He made miniature, flapping wings with his hands. "The second generation of nephilim were allowed to live in reclusive peace as long as they controlled their breeding habits and did not come in contact with humans. They are masters of stealth, living for centuries in complete secrecy. They've even flown off my radar. I almost believed them to be extinct."

"So what would they want from me?" Dean probed, willing Gabriel to get to the point

"Well there are a few options here." Gabriel lifted a finger. "Either they want to kill you or they want to learn more about you. Maybe they wanna go mini golfing, I don't know, man. We're going to have to wait and see. Luckily nephilim like them aren't difficult to slow down for angels like us. The real problem was the first generation. They were more powerful than archangels." Dean narrowed his eyes, his mind connecting dots.

"So wait, does that mean that my baby will be more powerful than you?" Gabriel glared at him, his mouth staying closed. Dean sat up in his chair with a loud "Ha! Is that why you couldn't read my mind?" The archangel shared a tight look with his brother before speaking again.

"I have to go. Pray if you meet that boy again, Mama Dean." And then the archangel was gone. Dean frowned at the nickname before he turned to Castiel.

"What the hell is up with him, always leaving so abruptly even though we got important shit to talk about?" Castiel was tense, his shoulders stiff and Dean imagined the wings of his feathers to look sharp and agitated like the boy he saw in the forest.

"He is worried. What you said isn't far from the truth, only it's possible that your baby will be even more powerful than the first generation because it lives from Grace and not just the soul of its mother" Dean glared. "Forgive me, Father." Castiel rebuked. He looked up at Dean for a moment, a worried frown in his brow. "I fear that more creatures will come to see our child, Dean. More that aren't friendly and would like to take it. For all we know, that could be the intention of the nephilim, and if word has gotten to even their secret society, then it's likely spread to every unsavory foe in the world and we're just sitting ducks." Dean didn't even have the frame of mind to commend Cas on his flawless execution of an idiom.

"The leviathans." He breathed. Cas nodded, looking at him in that all-too serious way.

"And vampires and werewolves—Every monster you can think of has a use for a full nephilim, Dean." He drew his eyebrows together, blue eyes burning darkly, stubbled jaw tense. Dean could see Castiel's shoulders shifting and he imagined he could hear the rustling of feathers. "A war between monsters is dawning and they have a common goal. God help us if they decide to form alliances" Dean took Castiel's hand, looking firmly into his eyes, protectiveness flaring in his chest at the thought. Over my dead fucking corpse.

"Our baby, Cas. We're in this together, remember? I don't care who's coming, we'll take 'em all out one by one." Cas sighed, smiling weakly before lacing his fingers into Dean's.

"It's good to have a positive attitude, Dean, but the reality is; We're vulnerable. We need a better defense." Dean took back his hand, blushing because he hadn't wanted to end up holding Cas's hand like that.

"Cas, I'm not entirely helpless, you know. I may be pregnant, but if push comes to shove I can still kick a fair amount of ass." Dean looked around uncertainly. "This pregnancy deal comes with a few perks anyways."

"Perks?"

"Remember back when Raguel trapped us into a much lamer version of Disneyland?" Castiel nodded, still looking confused at the reference. "Well that thing I did when I went all Subzero at the ceremony. . .Well, I can still do that." Dean got up, pulling Castiel into the kitchen and turned on the faucet, allowing a steady stream of water to fall.

Dean took a deep breath as he let his emotions flare, searching again for that coil and firmly grabbing it. Suddenly the temperature of the room seemed completely dependent on him and it was such an overwhelming feeling having that much power.

Dean focused on that stream, feeling the vibrations of its movement and the force that drove it and he wrapped that coil around it, pulling it until there was just silence. When he looked, the stream and the water pooling in the sink had become solid ice.

"You are able to control the baby's Grace." Cas stated in wonder.

"Yeah, it's unreal, right? I'm really awesome aren't i?" Castiel lifted his brow, looking only a fraction impressed.

"That is useful. I'm surprised you've learned to manipulate it so quickly." Dean grinned widely, looking pleased with himself. He was useful. "But it's not enough." Cas rebuked looking at him apologetically, "Dean, we can't rely on powers you've barely tested. Angels take centuries to learn how to use their Grace effectively.

"Then teach me!" Dean demanded. "Cas, we're running out of options here. There is literally no safe place to be anymore. I have to know how to use this power to protect us." He swallowed, placing his hands on Cas's hips and pulling close. "I know you're pulling out all the stops right now, but I need to be ready to defend myself if anything goes wrong. I have all sorts of weapons and defenses and I'm a damn good shot, but like you said I'm vulnerable like this and if this," He pressed Castiel's hand to his stomach. "If this power can help, then I should learn to use it in any way that I can, right?" Cas looked uncertain.

"It's reckless." He cautioned.

"But it's what I have to do, Cas." Cas contemplated for a moment, before a look of resignation crossed his features.

"If anything, we should train you to control it more effectively. And you're right, It wouldn't hurt if you learned how to defend yourself with it, also." Dean grinned.

"I'm always right." Cas sighed and pulled him in for a tight hug, wrapping his arms around Dean's middle and burying his face in the hunter's neck.

"I just worry about you." He was quiet for a moment before speaking again, his voice softer now, that worried little frown forming in his brow. "You shouldn't even be in this predicament." Dean sighed, pulling away from the hug and looking hard at the angel in front of him.

"Don't do this today, Cas. You know I don't blame you for that."

"Doesn't change the fact that it's my fault." Dean pulled back, raising Cas's chin so he could look at him properly.

"I don't want you referring to our kid negatively ever again." Dean admonished. "We decided we were going to do this and I don't regret that. Neither should you."

"I would never regret it—"

"Then stop talking like that." He pulled Cas forward into a sweet kiss, swiping his tongue slowly along the angel's bottom lip, the desire rearing up in him, built up so tightly just from a few days of no touching whatsoever. When he pulled back, his voice was barely above a whisper. "Just stop talking, okay?"

"Okay." Cas was on him again in an instant, hand finding Dean's short-but growing hair and tugging his head down, allowing the angel to get the upper hand. Cas was always kind of a forceful kisser.

Not that Dean was complaining.

Cas's tongue cleared up all of Dean's tongue's inhibitions, coaxing it into responding with sweet licks and sucks, dragging needy little sounds out of Dean's throat because he knew exactly how to get to him. They hadn't so much as kissed since they last time they saw Gabriel and, though it had only been a few days, it felt like eternity and Dean wondered how he'd ever lived without kisses like these.

Even though they'd teased each other about it before Gabriel came back, they both had remained perfectly celibate.

Dean had been studiously trying to avoid tiring himself out, because the last thing he wanted was to have to create that mind link again and absorb Cas's Grace like a hunter-sponge hybrid. . .thing.

What didn't help was that his mind was fighting with him for it.

Seriously just thinking about that connection, the openness. It was like a bridge had been gapped and he was so freakin' free. Dean fucking craved it and he hated that he wanted something that involved somebody so intimately. It wasn't like him and he knew if he had sex with Cas, the small burst of intimacy created from that would ignite the longing for a deeper connection he wished he'd never known he could have and he just couldn't handle that right now.

Finally getting over his afflictions about being probably (mostly) bisexual and having pleasurable (gay) sex with Cas, Dean had thought he wouldn't have any more personal issues to deal with. Boy had he been mistaken.

Just making out with Cas right now was building up the need for that emotional connection. He moaned thinking about it, and Cas took the opportunity to delve deeper into the hunter's mouth with his hot, naughty tongue, hands roaming down his sides and cupping his ass through his jeans. Dean curled his fingers tighter into Castiel's hair but they both knew that pleasures of the flesh weren't the only thing they wanted.

Dean bit his lip when he felt Cas's consciousness brush up against his. He didn't have any defenses up, and he shivered at the sensation. Cas was tentative, still asking for permission even though Dean wasn't blocking him out. Dean raised a weak barrier, startled by the sudden touch. Gabriel's touch hadn't been so. . . intimate.

"Dean. . ." Cas moaned against his lips. "Let me. . ."

"I-It's weird. . ." He said, flushing hotly. He felt like he was thirteen getting his first kiss and wasn't that just ridiculous?

"You used too much Grace today, and you know it." Dean blushed, cause he did. He was already feeling very tired and he knew this needed to happen sooner rather than later.

"D-Does it have to be so. . .invasive?"

"It has to be. My Grace needs to wrap around your soul which is where Grace resides in an angel. Your baby will recognize it there and only there." He paused, kissing Dean softly before pulling back and looking into Dean's darkened green eyes. "I won't look at anything you don't want me to see. Do you trust me?"

"Y-yeah. . ." Because Dean did. Cas wouldn't lie about something like that.

"Let me in, Dean." Dean felt his heart pounding in his chest and he did his best to open his mind completely, biting his lip as he felt Cas's reach. His breath started coming out in gasps as they connected, his palms getting clammy and heart-rate going berserk. This was it, the feeling he'd been craving for days, that connection that shouldn't have been possible but was. He knew he could he could just reach out and see anything and everything all at once if he wanted to. Cas trusted him with his mind, but Dean knew it would probably be a bad idea to look. Humans couldn't perceive everything angels did.

But just that they both trusted each other so much like this. . . This openness and vulnerability, the faith that Cas wouldn't exploit anything in his mind at all—That was the most surreal shit ever. The only thing in Dean's awareness was that feeling of complete and utter bliss that you feel at the peak of an orgasm, that white noise that fills your head and blows you away from all your worries, all of your troubles cease to exist because all that matters is the person you're sharing that moment with.

Only it didn't end. Dean was stripped bare and left open for all to see, all to take. Cas was looking at his soul and just how could Dean let himself be seen so easily? This was wrong. . . This was stupid. Cas was going to see everything, his ugliness, his sins. Cas was going to see the things he did in hell and then he was going to leave. Of course he would. Nobody would want to associate themselves with someone like Dean, not with all of the shit he had packing. Dean was an idiot and he couldn't let Cas do this—

Shh. . . relax, I have you. I was the one who remade your soul Dean, It's nothing I haven't seen before.

That silky voice. In his head. . . Oh God.

You always have been, even when you were broken in Hell. Dean I love you, every scar, every imperfection. It's all so very. . . you. Like an angel born with broken wings, you have so much light inside of you but you just can't fly. But you make the best of it. You do so much good despite the disadvantages and that's what makes you so very beautiful indeed.

He should have been denying it; Cas wouldn't want him still even after he knew all Dean was made of. Only, he couldn't deny it because in his head complete and utter truth rang like a bell in complete silence. He bit his lip, his eyes burning because Castiel did still want him. Castiel loved him and he could feel it within every fiber of his being.

Being loved was kind of awesome.

Dean stopped pushing against Cas's presence, allowing the angel to continue with that touch like liquid silver in his head. He didn't know how to talk in his mind to Cas, but he knew he must have been able to convey his thoughts if Cas had known what he was thinking.

Cas was kissing him again, slowly, tenderly, bringing Dean out of his head and back into physical reality.

"You're doing so well, Dean. I'm going to start the transfer." He said with his physical voice, a low rumbling baritone that reminded kind of like a diesel truck with no muffler. Dean would be happy if Cas just talked in that low voice to him forever. He kind of wanted to hear it again.

"H-How long is it going to take?" His voice was shaky and Cas rubbed his arm soothingly.

"It seems that you're not nearly as low as you were last time. It should be less than an hour." Dean should have been relieved by that, but he was actually already disappointed that this connection was going to end so soon. Dean sighed, wondering if Cas knew how much Dean liked this feeling, how much Dean liked his voice. "We should sit down. I doubt you want to stand here for an hour."

Cas took his hand gently and lead him to the couch. At once that connection flared with the feeling of Grace so strong that Dean was glad he was sitting instead of standing. It rushed through him, seeping into his skin and twisting around his core, wrapping tightly around it. Dean gasped, gripping Cas's hand harder as the feeling consumed him.

He hadn't been conscious for this part the last time so if he expected anything, it wasn't this. It was definitely weird having something completely foreign enter his body and manipulate him so thoroughly—Like some drug that lowered his inhibitions only there wasn't going to be any low to suffer.

Only an all-consuming high.

Suddenly he felt warm. . . So warm. His stomach was warm.

"Ah. The baby has connected to my Grace." Cas mused.

"That's my baby?" He lifted his shirt, rubbing his slightly-swollen stomach curiously and nearly jumping out of his seat when he felt a tiny fluttering sensation coming from his belly. "Holy crap!"

"Dean?" Dean was frantically rubbing against his belly, anything to feel that movement again. He probably looked ridiculous to Cas, but he knew It wasn't in his head because it had definitely moved. Dean had felt it. It had moved.

His baby was moving!

Not anymore, apparently, but Dean wouldn't worry about that. He knew what he'd felt.

"Cas it moved. . ." Dean grinned up at him, squeezing his hand. "Our baby moved, Cas!" Cas was staring at him with his mouth slightly opened and Dean had to resist the urge to kiss him senseless. "It's because of you. It likes your Grace."

"Or maybe it hates it. . ."

"No way! You feel awesome. If the baby hated it, I would hate it and I like it so. . ." Dean blushed, realizing just how much he was running his mouth. "A-Anyways, I'm pretty sure this baby loves his daddy." Dean smiled, unable to take his eyes away from Cas. Cas looked so confused, as though he didn't know what to do with that information. Dean stroked the back of his hand with his thumb. "You better not spoil it. I don't wanna always be the bad guy."

"I-I have no idea what you mean by that." Cas looked suddenly very stressed out, shoulders shifting uncomfortably and Dean smirked.

"I can tell the baby likes you, and even though it's cute, you need to be firm—Son or daughter. I can totally see you giving our baby everything he or she wants even if I already said no." If it was one thing Dean knew, he knew how kids worked. Sam had always whined about things he wanted but, seeing as times had been tough, Dean had needed to lay down the law. Sam was well-behaved to begin with, but Dean had the pleasure of raising him through his finicky teen years. Cas opened his mouth to retort only to close it, looking at the ceiling to think.

"I have no idea how I would react. . . I'll try not to undermine you." Cas looked contemplative before he spoke again, his voice even more uncertain than before "S-So you really do want to raise it. . . I mean with me?"

"Of course."

"But what if I am inadequate? I know next to nothing about humans and even less about being a parent."

"Look, we can figure it out as we go, man. Not saying that it's impossible to be a single parent, but it's easier with two, you know. Better. . . I mean." Dean blushed, not wanting to say anything further than that. Cas's face fell slightly.

"So it's for convenience." He stated, his voice bland and careful. Dean frowned.

"And because I want you to be there. I told you before, I think you'll be an awesome dad, Cas." That just reinforced that Cas was holding true to his word and not reading Dean's mind without his permission. That was actually really nice to know, even though Cas made some pretty dumb assumptions. "Cas you're not so bad to live with and um. . ." No. Not now. He wasn't ready to have this talk yet. Not about their relationship. For some reason this mind-connection thing gave him a bad case of loose lips. He had to steer this conversation elsewhere. Whatever it was it didn't matter. He had to say something to end the current topic, though. It would be weird to start a thought then completely change course. "Cas you're part of my family and the only thing changing is just how much family you are. We're in this together, I told you." You're my baby daddy. Dean snorted. Oh god his life was suddenly a Maury Special: A Devine Pregnancy: My life and journey through male motherhood. Fuck Dean in the ass right now. "Hey so I was thinking we need to figure out how we're going to spend our time here. We can't just sit around the house all day. It drives us both crazy."

"Yes, the inactivity is a lot more restrictive than I anticipated." Cas started idly playing with the fingers on Dean's right hand, stretching them back as far as they could go before Dean started pushing back and, before they knew it they were having a little finger battle. Cas was winning. "I've been alive for millennia and time like this is like a blink for an angel like me, but this is the longest few weeks I've ever had." He smiled, linking their fingers. "Time slows down when I'm with you, Dean."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Dean tried to pull his hand away but Cas wouldn't let him.

"It's good. I didn't realize how many moments there were to miss until I met you." Dean felt his stomach fill up with butterflies and he blushed, unable to hide his smile. Cas winced then, closing his eyes in discomfort and Dean squeezed his hand in concern.

"Hey what's up? Are you okay?" Dean demanded, squeezing Cas's hip when the angel didn't respond. When he opened his eyes, they were glowing brightly a neon blue that served to remind Dean just how much power was in this angel. Cas shook his head and the glow faded. He looked at Dean.

"The transfer weakens me. There is a lot of Grace being lost in a short amount of time. It's transferred faster than it's replenished." He saw the look on Dean's face and shook his head, his eyes lightening and he smiled. "Don't worry about me. This isn't nearly as bad as it was last time." Dean grimaced, feeling suddenly very guilty.

"I'm sorry. . ."

"You don't need to apologize. It's not your fault. It really isn't even an issue. This much Grace is nothing." Cas's lips quirked in what seemed to be a little bit of a cocky gesture and Dean grinned.

"So you think you're hot shit then?"

"I don't identify myself with warmed feces. . ." Dean laughed, shaking his head.

"I mean, you're pretty powerful, right?" Cas shrugged, raising an eyebrow.

"For a mid-level angel, I suppose I'm above average in power." Cas said thoughtfully. "But, ah, that is because I don't always follow protocol when using my Grace."

"What do you mean?" Dean pressed on, eager to get out of the realm of relationships. Angels were pretty interesting things and Dean really did want to learn more about them.

"Well, for instance, Angels use Grace via intent." He looked at Dean. "Typically."

"Typically."

"Yes. It's effective, but it's not most efficient since the Grace literally has no specific focus. The impact is strong and there is wasted energy, and third party things and individuals get affected by it needlessly."

"Kind of like a bomb?"

"Yes, a very good analogy. Now imagine an AK47 assault rifle."

"Most shots are precise and there is always a specific target in mind. Also magazines are cheap."

"Exactly. It's effective and cost-efficient. It's also powerful enough to take down virtually any foe in only a few shots. That's how I typically use my Grace. I don't tire as fast as other angels and my attacks are never wasted. It's advantageous because while other angels are already wiped from their first attacks, I'm able to take on the next round of enemies." He paused, smirking just barely. "Alone." Dean grinned wide.

"Look at you, mister badass of the garrison." Dean punched Cas's shoulder playfully, biting his lip. It might have been a little exciting, thinking of Cas, his Cas kicking ass and taking names while the other angels were busy wiping their prissy little asses.

"My style of fighting is frowned upon by the Host."

"If you get shit done, why should they complain?" Cas rolled his eyes, as though the idea was the most exhausting thing he'd ever lived through.

"Because angels shouldn't act like humans," Dean imagined that was said a little mockingly. "They should automatically take out the root cause and complete the mission with as little casualties as possible. Ideally, angels should only have to use a Grace-powered attack once before returning to heaven with the objective completed."

"Sounds like bullshit to me."

Cas hesitated, narrowing his eyes and nodding slowly as though he just got it. Which he probably did. Cute. Freakin' adorable. "Yes, it's akin to bullshit. What the Host doesn't seem to understand is that our angels aren't actually that smart. They use up their biggest attack right away, and then I'm stuck trying to defend them from harm and then the casualties build." Castiel frowned. "And then I get reprimanded for the body count."

"Bunch of dicks. It's their fault they made a stupid move, shouldn't be your responsibility to babysit them."

"But it is. Saving a brother is almost always the first priority. The mission is secondary. Well at least that's how it used to be." Castiel hesitated before speaking again, his eyes sincere and open. "Of course I want to save my brothers, but I just wish I wouldn't be reprimanded for it." Dean sighed, letting his head rest on Cas's shoulder as the Grace flowed hotly through his veins. It was relaxing, like being covered from head to toe with a warm blanket on a very cold day, only it wasn't cold in the room at all. It was just that sensation.

"You don't know what you got 'til it's gone. Bet they're wishing they'd done things differently, now." Cas was silent for a moment.

"Sometimes I wonder how I turned out so different." Dean snorted.

"You've been rebelling to save lives before you even met me, Cas. I think that's just who you are." He paused, biting his lip before speaking again. I like it."

"You do?"

"Yeah, it's pretty hot." Cas paused a moment before speaking again.

"Hot as in attractive, you mean?" Dean flushed, not looking up because somehow this conversation went the wrong way again.

"Yes, now I wanna take a nap while we finish this up, so shh." Cas was smiling. Dean didn't have to look up to know that.

It wasn't like he didn't know a hot guy when he saw one. Even when he had been sure he was heterosexual, he could pick out the hottest of the pack in a crowded bar and know who was and who wasn't getting laid that night. The confidence, the strength and the charm they all possessed, it wasn't rocket science.

Cas was that guy. Cas would be getting ass left and right if he were looking for it.

But he's not looking for it.

Dean flushed, suddenly feeling the butterflies in his stomach kick up a storm. Cas wanted Dean and only Dean. He'd made that perfectly clear. Dean knew he wanted it. . . Wanted sex. The next time they did it, how would it go? Would Cas fuck him again? Cas seemed to really like it. He liked fucking Dean. Dean supposed Cas would let him fuck him if he wanted to, but if he were completely honest with himself, he didn't really want to. He was just learning how good it felt having a thick, hot dick buried deep inside his hole. . . And then there was that spot. Dean wasn't an idiot and he'd always known men had prostates, he just never knew that it felt so good to be touched there. It wasn't like he'd ever explored his ass for Christ's sake. When he was fucked in Hell there'd been no pleasure there so what was he supposed to think? For most of his life that place had been exit only.

And Cas's cock was so. . . He bit his lip, remembering what it was like to be filled to the brim with it, clenching around that hot cock much like a bar of heated steel. He wondered for a moment what Cas would do if Dean suddenly went down on him, doing what so many girls had done to him, feeling the hot weight on his tongue and pushing it all the way back to his throat—

Cas tensed beside him and Dean looked up, seeing the angel's jaw tense and eyes dark. Right. Mind-link.

If Dean had been red before, then by now he must have looked like freakin' Clifford. Their eyes connected and Dean couldn't help but smile nervously, shrugging. Cas narrowed his eyes, those burning blues dragging down and quite obviously looking at Dean's lips. Oh yeah? Think you can get away with reading my thoughts just because you have this mind-link as an excuse? Dean bit his lip before parting them slightly and wetting them with his tongue, looking up at Cas through hooded lashes and thought in-detail about how he could explore this new side of his sexuality. The angel swallowed thickly and looked away, shifting a bit where he sat. Dean grinned, feeling as if he were winning this somehow.

Deciding that thinking too deeply about things he didn't want Cas knowing about yet would be a bad idea, Dean was content with just subtly teasing Cas throughout the rest of the exchange. At one point, Castiel scolded Dean because he couldn't let his concentration be broken, So Dean just took a nap like he'd planned before.

He wasn't trying to avoid the conversation he'd resolved himself to have with Cas, he just didn't know how to start it. What would he say? How would Cas feel? He couldn't think about it too deeply now because he didn't want Cas to accidentally read his thoughts and draw up his own conclusions when Dean didn't even know what he, himself wanted. For now they would get through this, but by the end of that week, Dean knew he had to reach a decision. He was getting too comfortable like this and dithering around on a decision like this would only hurt them both. Or three, he supposed, thinking to the little Grace-sucker in his belly. He smiled, rubbing his belly absently, remembering how he'd felt it move. It was all so real now. He had a baby and it was alive and it was his.

My kid. My son or daughter. I'm a dad.

He realized, with a start, that it didn't even matter that he was a man and he was pregnant now. All that mattered was that he was a dad. All that mattered was that he would do anything for this baby—and if that included having talks he didn't want to have, then he would do it.

He felt Castiel squeeze his hand and he closed his eyes, linking their fingers together, that forbidden feeling rising in the center of his chest like a reminder—like a hellhound growling at his door. Now that he'd acknowledged it, it wouldn't leave him alone. He knew if he didn't do something, if he was left to his own devices in this limbo, he would end up pushing the angel away out of fear as the feeling grew out of his control. Dean couldn't allow that to happen.

He wouldn't allow that to happen.

::

POLL: It's taking a long time to update when I'm focused on both Seeing in Black and A Wish Your Heart Makes, and I know some of you read both of my stories. I posted a poll on my profile to see if you, the readers, would rather I focus on SIB or AWYHM, or if I continue to update both interchangeably. I will continue to write for both unless I get a good response to the poll, just know that updates aren't going to be regular that way. I want to finish both stories, but it really is daunting to write two at the same time and I'm not a great updater as it is. . .

The poll will be open until I get a good response to it and it won't be closed until a few weeks after this update. THANK YOU FOR YOUR FEEDBAX