Chapter Text
It started with a chair.
He stared at the abandoned worn-out recliner, some of the old leather peeling off the seat. It was tossed out on the side of the road, ready for men in garbage trucks to take it away. Why the fuck would Missouri want to get rid of it?
He took a sip of his Sunny-D.
The chair that Dean Winchester, captain of the wrestling team, president of the sci fi club, homecoming prince two years in a row, and notorious flirt, got pregnant in. Or at least, he thinks so. (He could totally not be pregnant, and that would be super cool, actually)
More specifically, got pregnant with his best friend in. Whoops.
Dean peeled off his boxers, and glanced up nervously at Cas, who was sitting in the chair, looking equally as anxious. Tip-toeing across the room, he bit his lip, and took in his best friend in all his ridiculous glory. Sure, he’d only been fantasizing about this since middle school, but still. Who gave Cas the right to be so fucking hot?
Hovering over Cas’s legs, Dean reached behind himself, but Cas grabbed his wrist.
“Let me.” He whispered.
A few of the butterflies torturing his stomach flew out his throat, and Dean blew a nervous breath. “Okay.” Why the fuck was he so nervous? He’d done this before, Jesus. Loads of times, even.
But this was Cas.
Two fingers gently moved inside him, and he felt a scratchy face kiss his neck. God, did he ever shave? What sixteen year-old had this much stubble? Castiel Novak, that’s who.
“Did you know I’ve wanted this for a long time?” Cas asked.
No. Of course Dean didn’t know that. Why would Cas want him? It was probably one of those things where people said things they didn’t mean during sex like You’re The Best I’ve Ever Had and I Love You.
“Yeah.” Dean lied.
“Wizard.”
Dean blinked away the memory as a yappy dog reminded him that he was actually still on Earth. “Shut the fuck up, Banana, Jesus.” Dean muttered, taking another sip of his Sunny-D. It was the liter-size, the kind John used to buy when he was a kid, before he dropped him and Sam off at Bobby’s.
He turned back to the sidewalk, but not before glancing at the shitty recliner one last time. Dean was pretty sure it was the most magnificent piece of discarded furniture he’d ever seen.
Making his way back through town, he realized he had to pee again. Good, he could take another fucking pregnancy test.
The drugstore bell chimed, and Dean scowled at it. Why the fuck is that even there? If he really wanted to announce his presence when he entered a room he’d just say something.
Gabriel, the recently-appointed assistant manager grinned at him.
“Deano! Back for another test? Or are you just here to see my beautiful face?”
Dean rolled his eyes. “I think that last one was defective, man. It looked more like a division sign.”
Gabriel didn’t look convinced, but he handed him another box anyway. “Make it quick, Winchester,” he said, setting the bathroom key on the counter. “Oh, and make sure to pay for that shit. It’s not yours just because you marked it with your urine.”
A liter-sized Sunny D’s worth of pee later, and Dean was standing back out in the middle of the store.
“So, I’m I gonna be an uncle, or what?” Gabriel asked, standing on his tip-toes to peer over Dean’s shoulder.
“Back off, shortie, nobody is anything yet.” Dean pushed him away.
“Geez! Just trying to see if I need to start picking out baby stuff!” Gabriel protested, holding up his hands.
“Why would you be buying baby stuff?”
Gabriel smirked. “It is my brother’s kid, right? You and Cas finally bumped uglies?”
Wonderful, Dean was about to find out if he was pregnant or not, and he was doing it with Gabriel fuckin’ Novak, the World’s Biggest Bag of Dicks.
“That’s none of your business, dude.” Dean said, shaking the pregnancy test. That can’t be right, it just can’t. Fuck.
“That ain’t no etch-a-sketch. This is one doodle that can’t be undid, homeskillet.” Gabe said. “Hey, so what’s the verdict? You preggers?”
“Don’t matter. It’s not staying for long.”
Gabriel’s grin vanished.
“You’re gonna…?”
Dean shrugged indifferently. “What else do you expect me to do with it? I’m sixteen, man.” He tried to not let his voice break. Jesus, he better not start crying. Not in front of Cas’s deadbeat older brother.
“Cas is gonna be heartbroken.”
Dean raised an eyebrow, “You gonna tell him?”
Gabriel held up his hands again. “Hey man, that’s your business.”
“You're damn right it is.”
***
“Yo-yo-yo-giggidty-yo.”
“I’m a suicide risk.”
“Dean?” It was Jo, Dean’s oldest friend outside of Cas. He didn’t really want anyone know about it, but he needed to talk.
“I’m pregnant.”
Jo laughed, and Dean scowled. What the hell? Why did everyone always think Dean was joking about everything?
“I’m fuckin’ serious, Jo. Don’t laugh.”
Jo was quiet for a minute, and Dean almost checked his phone to see if she was still there.
“Are you… are you sure?”
“Yes I’m sure!” Dean exploded. Remembering that Bobby and Sam were home, he lowered his voice. “I’ve taken like, three pregnancy tests.”
“How did you even generate enough pee for three pregnancy tests?”
“I drank a shit ton of Sunny-D, is that okay with you?” Dean snapped. “You’re being shockingly cavalier about this.”
“Shit.”
“...yeah.”
“No, I mean like, shit. Shit, Dean. Shitting shit.”
“There we go, that was kind of the reaction I was hoping for.”
“Why weren’t you… I mean… you’ve been getting heats since like, ninth grade. Don’t you take birth control or something?”
Dean stared up at the ceiling, Robert Plant staring back at him. He sighed. “Yeah, Jo. I was.”
“So… what happened?”
“I forgot, okay? I was supposed to pick up my refill like three weeks before it happened, but there was a Red Dwarf marathon and I got a little distracted, and it threw off my hormones or something. I don’t know. The point is, I got a bun in the damn oven.”
He could hear Jo flipping through a magazine. “Are you going to go to Havenbrooke or Omega Now? I think you need a parent with you for Havenbrooke.”
“Omega Now, I guess. Hey, can you help me with something?”
***
Castiel slammed the door to his house, only to become face to face with Dean Winchester. Or rather, face to chair.
Dean was casually lounging in a leather recliner, feet hanging over the armrest, and grinning lazily. Oh god, it was the recliner that they… god.
“Hey, babe.” He winked.
Cas closed his eyes. He hated it when Dean flirted with him as a joke. In fact, Dean flirted with everyone as a joke. It didn’t bother him when his friend batted his eyelashes at random girls and guys because he knew it didn’t mean anything. When he said shit like that to Cas, it made his stomach flip and he got all sweaty.
A hoard of runners clopped past, their sneakers smacking the cement in unison. He fiddled unnecessarily with the ties on his running shorts.
“I’m supposed to be running.” He said, stupidly.
Dean nodded. “So, guess what?”
“What?” Cas never quite knew what Dean was going to say.
“I’m pregnant.”
Well, he didn’t expect that.
Castiel felt like all the air was punched out of his lungs. How is that even possible? Wasn’t Dean taking birth control like any other omega who didn’t want to mate? After years of being desperately in love with his best friend, they finally had sex, and this had to happen?
“So uh, what are you going to do?” He was going for casual, but he was coming off more awkward than anything.
Dean pushed back the chair, and stood up, shrugging. “I don’t know, man. I guess I should probably nip it in the bud, right? I’ve heard that pregnancy often results in an infant.”
Dean was always saying obvious shit like that, and Cas was finally at the point where he could recognize his sarcasm and even play along.“Right. That’s typically what happens when our parents and teachers get pregnant.”
Dean peeked at his friend from the corner of his eye, the way he does when he wants to gauge a reaction without looking lame. Dean spent a lot of time pretending that he didn’t care, but Cas could see beneath that.
“So...that’s cool with you then?”
Cas blinked. “Yeah. Yeah, wizard. You have to do what you think is best, Dean. Take care of yourself. Do you want me to drive you to the abortion clinic?”
Dean winced at abortion clinic, but then waved the suggestion away. “Nah, I’ll take the bus, and have Jo pick me up after.”
Cas never knew what to say in any situation, much less this one.
After an awkward pause, Dean slung his backpack over his shoulder and picked up his bike. “Well, I’ll see you in chem, dude.”
“Okay.”
“Sorry I had sex with you, it’s not like it was your idea or anything.” He called over his shoulder, pedalling down the street.
“Whose idea was it?” Cas asked stupidly.
***
“Alright class, if you’ll please turn to page forty-three, we’ll continue from yesterday.” Dean groaned as the class slapped their textbooks opened, and Mr. Agnew droned on about mols.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Cas took notes, his hand moving fluidly as he wrote in perfect cursive.
“Hey.” he whispered, as if he has a big, important, secret.
Cas held up a finger- hold on. His notes were always so perfect, usually better than the teacher’s actual lesson. It’s probably because he writes little questions for himself and then looks up the answer later, so he ends up knowing way more than anyone else on the subject. Nerd.
At last he set down his pen and turn to look at his friend, raising his eyebrows. “Today’s your uh, doctor’s appointment, isn’t it?” he whispered. He wasn’t sure why they were whispering, the rest of the class was speaking at a normal level, casually ignoring Mr. Agnew’s lesson.
Dean felt a wave of nausea crash over him. “Yeah.” he whispered back. How was it that Cas always knew what he really wanted to say, even if he never actually said it?
He felt a hand squeeze his knee, and he felt a little bit better. The hand stayed on his knee, and Cas’s eyes scanned his face, searching.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, like he actually cared what happened to him.
Dean forced a shrug, and he shifted his legs so that Cas had to let go. “I just want to get it done, y’know? Kinda like a bandaid, I just wanna rip it off, get it over with.”
Cas looked like he didn’t quite believe him, but he didn’t push it. “Do you… are you sure you don’t want me to go with you? I don’t have to be there for the… procedure, if you don’t want me to, but I can just be there in the lobby or something.”
Dean wasn’t sure what he did to deserve someone being that nice to him.
He shook his head. “Naw, man. You probably have track practice, right?”
“Technically it’s cross country season,” he corrected.
Dean rolled his eyes. “My point, is that you’re busy. You need to go to practice.”
“You’re more important,” Cas said earnestly.
Dean felt sick. Cas had no right to say those kind of things so bluntly.
First of all, track was literally Cas’s entire life. Castiel was the guy that woke up early every morning to go jogging, took PE classes for fun, then went to track practice, and then ran a few miles when he got home, just to blow off some steam. So it’s kind of a big fucking deal if Dean was suddenly more important than track.
Second of all, Dean never came first. That’s just not who he was. Dean was in charge of putting other people first, not the other way around. When Dean was moving from motel to motel, he was the one who had to put everyone first. He had to put John’s needs first, and more importantly, he had to put Sammy’s needs first. True, he was no longer in charge of Sam the way he was before, Bobby had made sure of that when they went to go live with him, but the deeply ingrained belief remained the same: Dean came last.
Unless you’re in chair with Castiel, his brain helpfully supplied. A flash of Cas’s face as he pumped Dean’s dick, biting his lip in concentration, made a special appearance in his mind. He used to fantasize about his best friend all the time, but now that he’d actually done it with Cas, his brain seemed to think it was necessary to remind him of it constantly.
“Are you okay?” Cas asked, his dark eyebrows wrinkled in concern.
“‘M fine.” Dean lied. “Just uh, just kinda nervous. I fuckin’ hate doctors.”
Cas hummed. “Well, I won’t go if you don’t want me there, but I’ll be there for you if you need it.”
Dean snorted, and shoved his friend playfully. “Dude, don’t be so gay.”
***
“All babies want to get born! All babies want to get born!” she chanted, waving her sign, NO BABIES LIKE MURDERING around. She was the only protester in the mostly-deserted parking lot in front of the abortion clinic, but damn it if she wasn’t making up for it.
Oh shit, Dean knew exactly who she was.
He plastered on a good-natured grin, and waved. “Oh, hey Becky!” Ugh, Becky was the worst. She not only stalked Dean’s brother Sam last year, but she also spent 99% of her time preaching her shitty opinions to people. Ugh.
Her eyes popped open obscenely wide, and her jaw dropped. “Dean...Winchester! What are you doing here?”
Jesus, what the hell did she think he was doing there?
He shrugged. “Oh y’know… Hey, have you written that paper for Worth’s class yet?”
She shook her head. “Nope. I tried to write some of it last night, but I’m having trouble concentrating.”
“Oh hey, I could sell you some of my Adderall if you want.” Dean suggested, wishing he could get the hell out of there. Why the hell did he even bring that up? He hasn’t even taken any Adderall for the last two years, because Cas didn’t like him taking it, and all it did was make him study harder.
Becky shook her head. “No thanks, I’m off pills.”
“Yeah, that’s probably a good thing. ‘Cuz I knew this guy who went like super crazy with some behavioral meds, and he ripped off all his clothes, and crashed his car into the side of a Dairy Queen.”
Becky stared at him. “I heard that was you, and that it was marijuana.”
“Well, it was good seeing you, Becky.” It wasn’t even marijuana, it was Jack Daniels. And he didn’t crash his car, he crashed his bike. He was just trying to make the story sound more interesting, that’s all.
He sauntered towards the clinic, but Becky called out to him: “Dean!”
He stopped walking, but didn’t turn around. He sighed. “Yes, Becky?”
“Your baby probably has a beating heart you know!”
Yes, yes he knew that.
“It can feel pain. And it has fingernails!”
Huh. Fingernails, really?
***
The man sitting at the front desk refused to look up from his Nintendo DS as he spout out his casual instructions.
Dean could barely hear him, over the sound of his rapidly beating heart, but he accepted the clipboard nonetheless.
“Please fill this out, and don’t skip out on the hairy details, we need to know about every sore and every score.” The man’s cocky attitude was emphasized by a shitty British accent and a leery smile, and Dean wanted to throw up.
He sat down on the hard bench, and started to fill out the paperwork.
Name: Dean Michael Winchester. Easy.
The woman next to him scratched her arm loudly. Dean glanced over at her, but she was too invested in her own paperwork to notice. He started to write his date of birth, when the man sitting across from him started chewing on his nails.
Ugh, his fingernails.
Babies can’t really have those, right? Not ones that haven’t been born yet, right? Like, tiny fetuses? Dean was only a month pregnant, so it wasn’t possible. Oh fuck, what did he know about babies?
Absolutely nothing, that’s why he had to do this.
Scratch scratch scratch.
A woman standing by the front desk filed her nails calmly, dragging her fingernails across the surface of the file in a deafening sound. What the fuck was up with everybody messing with their nails? A little kid sitting by himself picked at a hangnail.
Fingernails fingernails fingernails fingernails.
It was all Dean could hear, all he could think about. No he couldn’t remember how long he had been ugh, sexually active for, because the guy sitting at the front desk kept dragging his nails through his scalp.
Before he knew it, he was running out the doors of the clinic, with his phone pressed to his ear.
“Dean? I thought you were at the clinic?” Cas’s voice said through the phone.
Shit. Since when did he call Cas with all of his issues?
“Cas? Aren’t you supposed to be at track practice?”
“Crosscountry. And no, I decided to skip.” He said calmly. “Are you okay? Where are you?”
“Why’d you skip?”
“Dean.” Cas said in his Dean-Winchester-I-am-not-even-remotely-in-the-area-of-fucking-around voice.
“Outside the clinic.” Dean mumbled, defeated. “I couldn’t do it, man. I just couldn’t do it.”
He heard Cas exhale in relief. “Do you need me to come pick you up?”
He shook his head no, but then remembered that Cas couldn’t see him. And that Jo was coming to pick him up in a few hours, and for some reason, he didn’t want to see anyone but Cas.
“...yeah.”
***
Cas was silent the entire car-ride home, only humming and nodding at the appropriate places.
“And the guy at the clinic was babbling away in a freakin’ British accent, which by the way, was totally fake, just like the name on his nametag. Who the fuck names their kid Balthazar? No offense, Cas.”
Cas chuckled. “None taken.”
“And oh! Fuckin’ Becky was there. Becky Rosen, the one who hands out pamphlets at school about how omegas shouldn’t even go to school and how they should just be assigned to alphas, who fucking thinks that?”
“That’s ridiculous.” Cas murmured.
“Yeah! Anyway, she was there, and she was like ‘oh hey Dean, did you know that babies have fingernails?’ Fingernails, Cas!”
“Gruesome.”
“Yeah.” He closed his eyes, and breathed out. “I’m gonna have to do this, Cas.”
“I know.”
“Are you mad?”
Cas turned into the driveway of Dean’s house, and turned the car off. “Why would I be angry with you, Dean?”
Dean squirmed uncomfortably. “I dunno. ‘Cuz I was gonna get rid of our baby. ‘Cuz now I’m gonna have it and everyone’s gonna say shit about us. ‘Cuz I got myself pregnant. “Just ‘cuz.”
Cas looked angry then, but not at Dean.
“Dean, look at me.” He commanded, and Dean looked. “First of all, that’s ridiculous. You didn’t get yourself pregnant, it takes two to conceive, so it’s just as much my fault. Second of all, I told you that whatever you felt was best to take care of you, then you have to do it. If that means terminating the pregnancy, then that is what you should do. If that means having the baby, then you should do that. Either way, I’ll be there for you.”
Dean squeezed his hand, and smiled weakly. “Good thing we’re such good friends, huh? I’m lucky to have you.”
Cas patted Dean’s knee. “Of course.”
“Someday, you’re gonna mate with someone who’ll treat you the way that you treat me.”
Cas looked pained by what Dean said, but he rolled his eyes just the same. “Everyone deserves respect, Dean. That’s all I’m giving you.”
Maybe Dean was overly emotional due to the hormones, or the almost-abortion, or whatever, but he teared up a little bit. Sonouva bitch.
***
“Dean.”
“Mmpph.”
“Dean, wake the fuck up. Dean!” Jo screeched, and Dean jolted awake. He blinked around. What the fuck?
Oh yeah. After Cas walked him up to his room, he basically passed out on his bed.
Joanna Beth Harvelle was standing over him, looking royally pissed.
“Dean, where the hell were you? I went to go pick you up at the clinic, and you weren’t there. The dude at the front desk said you bolted. Are you okay?”
Dean sat up, and scrubbed a hand across his face. “I… yeah. ‘M fine. I couldn’t do it, Jo.”
Jo’s face softened, and she sat down next to her friend. “What happened?”
Dean sighed. “I don’t want to talk about it. I already ranted to Cas about how much it sucked.”
“Cas? You talked to Cas?” She looked surprised.
“Yeah. He came and picked me up.”
“Why wasn’t he at track?”
“Cross-country.” Dean muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Dean laid back down on the bed, and stretched his legs out. Jo followed, tucking her head into his chest.
“So, he skipped cross-country to go get you, even though you already had a ride waiting?” She asked, picking a stray hair off of her jeans.
Dean shrugged. “He was skipping anyway. I kinda think he was waiting around for me to get done when I called him.”
Jo was staring at Dean, smiling slightly. “He loves you.”
Dean sputtered, but recovered quickly. “Y-you know, it’s a very delicate topic, and I don’t feel comfortable talking about it in my fragile state.”
Jo snorted. “Whatever preggo. ‘No chick-flick moments’, I know.” She sat up. “But dude, what are you gonna do about this?” She asked, gesturing to his stomach.
“I’m staying pregnant, Jo.”
She sighed. “Dean.”
“No, it’s cool. I was thinkin’, maybe I could like, give the baby to someone who needs it. Like two omegas that mated, or a lonely beta or something. Adopt it out.”
“Yeah, but you’ll get huge, dude. And you’ll have to you know, tell people.”
The door to Dean’s bedroom slammed open, and a twelve-year old twerp bounced in. “Tell people what, Dean?”
“Sammy, get out, the grownups are talking.”
Sam laughed. “You are not a grownup, you’re sixteen! Just tell me.” He flopped himself down into the beanbag chair and looked up expectantly. “I won’t tell Uncle Bobby.”
Dean and Jo exchanged glances, and Jo shrugged.
“Sam, this is some serious shit. ‘nd I’m gonna tell Uncle Bobby, but you gotta let me do it, okay?”
Sam nodded seriously. It wasn’t very often his brother actually told him cool teenager stuff.
“I’m uh, I’m pregnant.”
Sam’s face lit up, and he squealed in delight. “No way! Like for real?” He leapt of the beanbag chair and rushed to Dean’s stomach. “Is it a boy or a girl? Is it gonna call me Uncle Sam? This is so great!”
Dean pushed his kid brother away. “Knock it off Sammy. I’m not keeping it.”
Sam looked as if Dean had just hit him. “You mean you’re gonna…? Y’know?”
“...no. That ain’t for me. I’m gonna find someone that needs a kid, and I’m gonna give it to them.”
Sam thought about it for a moment, and then pulled Dean into a hug. “Dean, that’s actually so amazing, you’re gonna make somebody who’s really sad because they can’t have kids really happy!”
“Yeah, yeah, kid. I’m a freakin’ martyr.”
Dean felt a knot untwist in his stomach. One person down.
***
After Jo went home, and Sam got tired of suggesting names for the baby (“I’m not naming it dude, that’s what the adoptive parents do”), Dean found himself stretched out on his bed, browsing adoption sites online. It made him slightly nervous to be laying on his stomach like he usually did, so he sat upright.
Metallica rang through the air, and Dean felt around for his cell phone. “Hello?”
“Dean.”
A warm feeling made his way through his chest. “Oh, hey man! How’s it going?”
“I’m just doing some homework. I called to see how you’re doing.” He was so genuine, it made Dean want to puke, sometimes.
Actually no, he really did need to puke. He bolted upright, and dove towards the small trashcan that was across the room. After hacking up half his organs and a pizza, he wiped his mouth and found his way back to his phone, that was still sitting on his bed.
“Dean? Hello? Are you okay?” Dean could tell he was trying hard to keep his cool.
“‘M good. Just hanging out. Well, puking a second ago, but before that I was hanging. Jo was here earlier.”
“Oh.” Good ol’ Cas, casually ignoring the fact that Dean was just barfing. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Dean knew that he wasn’t talking about the puke. Cas always knew what Dean really meant to say, even if he didn’t come right out and say it.
“I’m going to give it up for adoption. I’m staying pregnant, dude.”
Cas was quiet.
“Cas?”
“Yes, Dean?”
Dean felt fidgety. “Are you… you’re not mad at me, right? I just don’t think I could handle raising a kid, y’know?”
“No, I didn’t say you were.” Cas said, void of emotion.
“You wanna raise it? Is that it?”
“I’m not ready to parent, either.”
“Then what’s the fuckin’ problem? It’s like you have no opinion on this. Do you even care?” Dean felt irrationally angry. Why would it matter if Cas cared or not? It wouldn’t affect his decision.
“Of course I care!” Cas snapped. “I’m just concerned about you. You’re being very casual about such a huge decision, and I’m worried about how you really feel. That’s a thing that friends do.”
Dean felt stung by his words. “I… I’m scared Cas. I’m scared shitless. This is terrifying, but I can’t go through with the alternative. I just can’t.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I… I’m looking at adoption websites online.”
“Do you want me to look with you?”
This is how they ended up shopping for adoptive parents online together, over the phone.
“What about this couple? ‘Wholesome, spiritually wealthy couple have found true love with each other.’ They seem nice.”
“Fuck no, Cas. They seem lame.”
“The people who adopt our child has to be cool?” Dean could just picture him wrinkling his nose. Cas wasn’t exactly the epitome of cool, and Dean sometimes wondered if that was on purpose. Nobody else could wear those yellow running shorts and tube socks and not be doing it ironically, right?
“I don’t know, I guess so. I want it to grow up to be a badass, like me.”
“Well what did you have in mind?”
“I dunno. I was thinking like, graphic designer, who lives in like a cool studio-apartment, plays electric guitar in a band, and has like a hot Asian girlfriend.” Dean said. “But I don’t want to be too particular.”
“Dean, that was particular.” Cas pointed out.
“Okay, yeah, but you get what I mean, right? I don’t want the kid going to some giant, super religious family full of wackos.”
“Yes, because that would be a tragedy.”
Oh shit. Dean completely forgot that Cas grew up with six siblings, under a household where praying before every meal was as necessary as the food itself.
“Oh but… uh, shit. But you turned out okay. That’s not what I meant.”
“Dean, it’s okay. I was already aware that you don’t take my religion seriously. It’s fine.”
“Cas…” Dean sighed. It was something that Cas cared a lot about, and most of the time, Dean pretended that his best friend slept in on Sundays like everyone else.
There was that one time, however, freshman year. John had left Dean and Sam at Bobby’s the year before, and had finally called for the first time. And because the universe hates his fucking guts, Cas happened to be hanging out at his house that day.
Dean hung up with father, after getting the phone back from Sam, and he smashed it. Cas watched as Dean completely broke down, throwing shit left and right. Why didn’t his dad want them? Take care of Sam, son. That’s your job. No clue as to when he’d come back for them, no questions about how his life had been, no “I love you”s.
Afterwords, Cas pulled a sobbing Dean into his arms, and rocked back and forth. Later, Dean would realize that Cas had been murmuring a prayer to God, but at the moment, Dean pretended that Cas was whispering words of love in his ear.
He probably should have realized how screwed he was at that point.
“Hey, what about this couple? Go to page two, and scroll down to the bottom.” Cas suggested, and Dean followed the instructions. The moment he saw the picture, he knew.
“Educated, successful couple wishes to adopt a child…” was the headline, accompanied by a picture of a stunning brunette woman, her arm slung around a redheaded woman, who was laughing, but equally as beautiful.
They were Lisa and Charlie Braeden, and they were beautiful, even in their tiny, two inch picture.
“They’re perfect.”
***
“Bobby, I gotta tell you something, but I have got no idea how to spit this out.” Dean announced, coming down the stairs, Jo and Sam trailing behind.
Bobby leaned back in his chair. “Spit what out?”
Dean paced back and forth. “I did something.”
“But it wasn’t his fault!” Sam piped up.
“Let me handle this, you little bitch.” Dean muttered, shoving Sam away.
“Jerk!” He shot back, sticking his tongue out. Honestly, the kid was way too old to be doing this shit.
“Did you get expelled, boy?” Bobby asked, fixing Dean a glare. “‘Cuz if you did, I swear-”
“No! Nothing like that. And anyway, the school would likely contact you in the event of my expulsion.” Dean interrupted.
Bobby raised his eyebrows. “Well? You didn’t crash the Impala, did you? Your old man would kill you.”
“No, no. Nothing like that.”
From behind him, Jo grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I think you just need to just rip the band-aid off, dude.”
Dean swallowed, and Bobby readjusted himself in his seat.
“I’m pregnant.”
Bobby was speechless. “Boy…” he sighed.
“I’m going to give it up for adoption, though! I already found a family, and I talked to them on the phone. I’m gonna meet them next week. They said they’re gonna pay for everything, all my medical bills and stuff, so really all you’ll have to do is drive me to the hospital, because I don’t think you’re supposed to drive while in labor…” Dean babbled, pacing the room again.
Bobby was up and out of his chair before Dean knew it, and pulling him into a hug. “Dammit, kid. How’d this happen?”
Dean slumped into his surrogate father’s arms. “‘Cuz I’m an idiot.” He mumbled.
Bobby hugged him tighter. “No, you’re not. You’re an idgit, sure. But not an idiot.”
Dean thought about telling Bobby that technically that was the same thing, but he knew what he meant, so he just dropped it.
Bobby released Dean, and sat back down in his chair. “I’m coming with you to meet this family. You’re just a kid, I don’t want you to get ripped off by a couple of wack jobs. Who’s the father?”
“Well, actually it’s two women that are adopting it so technically there is no father...”
Bobby sighed. “No, Dean. The father.” He looked pointedly at Dean’s stomach.
“Oh! It’s uh… Castiel Novak.”
Bobby snorted.
“What?”
“Don’t know why I bothered to ask.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean protested.
Jo laughed, slinging her arm over his shoulders. “Winchester, you’ve got it bad.”
***
“Holy shit, Bobby, they’re fucking rich.” Dean gasped as they pulled into Charlie and Lisa’s neighborhood. Every house they drove past had at least three garages, three stories, and massive yards. This was a whole different world from Bobby’s one-storied house.
They finally pulled into the Braedan’s driveway, after driving past just about a million mini-mansions that all seemed to look identical yet not, and rang their doorbell.
The brunette from the picture opened the door, and grinned at them, flashing her blindingly white teeth at them.
“Hi! I’m Lisa. You must be Dean, hi.”
“Hello, m’am. Bobby Singer.” Bobby said, sticking his hand out. “Thank you for inviting me and my irresponsible kid into your home.”
Lisa laughed. “No, thank you. You have no idea how excited we are that you called us. Come in, please.”
Dean and Bobby entered their living room, and before Dean could plop himself on their expensive looking couch, he was attacked.
Well, it was a hug, but it sort of came out of nowhere, so Dean was comfortable with calling it an attack.
“Dean, we are so happy you called us!” The red headed woman exclaimed. “Lisa and I have wanted a child for so long!”
Lisa laughed nervously as she entered the living room, a serious looking man in a suit following behind her. “Charlie, babe.” She chastised. “Please don’t scare the pregnant man.”
“Sorry, man. I’m just excited.” Charlie apologized, shaking his hand, which seemed a little redundant after the surprise hug. “I’m Charlie.”
“Dean.” He said, taking her hand anyway. That’s when he noticed that she was wearing a Star Trek t-shirt. “Hey! Nice shirt!”
Charlie beamed. “Have you seen the new movie yet? I keep telling Lis’ that I don’t have the hots for Uhura, but I definitely do.” She said, whispering the last part conspirially and Lisa rolled her eyes.
“Okay ladies and gents, lets get this taken care of, shall we?” The man in the suit said, herding people to their seats.
“Dean, this is our lawyer, Crowley.”
“Crow-leee…” Dean said, enunciating each and every letter. “That’s funny, the guy at the abortion clinic had a British accent too. Apparently all of you work with pregnant dudes.” Dean noted, and then after noticing how everyone in the room was wincing, regretted it. He had a habit of putting his foot in his mouth when he was nervous.
“I uh, didn’t get the abortion. Obviously.” Dean added, blushing. Lisa smiled awkwardly.
“Well, that’s good.” She said. She stood up, suddenly. “I’m sorry, did you want something to drink? Dean? Mr. Singer? We have water, and soda, and juice, and I think there’s some tea in there too..”
Bobby shook his head no at the same time that Dean said, “Water please.” Lisa scurried away to get their drinks, and was back quick enough to make Dean suspect that she had laid out a bunch of drinks in their kitchen.
“Thanks, Lisa.” Dean said, and she grinned at him emphatically.
Crowley coughed awkwardly. “Anyways, let’s get started.” He pulled out some papers out of his briefcase. “How far along are you?”
“I’m a junior.”
Charlie laughed. “No, he means how far along in the pregnancy.”
Dean felt himself blush. “I, oh. Twelve weeks.”
“Oh, that’s great! That means you’re almost into your second trimester, right?” Lisa asked.
“Uh, I guess so. My friend Jo, her mom Ellen already took me to the doctor’s and they said I’m due on May 4th.
“So, the worst part is basically over for you, right? My friends say that the first trimester is the worst.” Lisa said.
Dean shrugged awkwardly. These people were so nice, he wasn’t used to it. “Yeah. I ‘spose so. I didn’t really notice it. Well, I did, because I kept puking all the time, but I thought I was just sick or whatever. Probably because I was in pretty big denial about being pregnant for a while, you know?”
“I wouldn’t know.” Lisa said, and Charlie reached for her hand and squeezed it. They smiled at each other, and Dean felt like they were having a private discussion with their eyes.
“Mrs. and Mrs. Braeden are willing to negotiate an open adoption,” Crowley said, smoothly changing the subject.
“What the hell does that mean?” Bobby asked, speaking for the first time since they arrived.
“It just means that we’d send you annual photos of the baby, let you know how it’s growing up, things like that. You wouldn’t have any sort of legal rights or anything…” Charlie said.
“Whoa, whoa. I don’t need any pictures or anything. Can’t I just like, have the thing and give it to you? Stick in a basket and leave it on your front porch, Harry Potter style?”
Charlie laughed. “Right, because that worked out so well for him.”
Dean liked her. “Yeah, well, I figure you guys aren’t as bad as the Dursleys or whatever, and I’m pretty sure it won’t come out a wizard.”
“Damn.” She said. Oh yeah, Dean liked her. He was definitely cool with his kid growing up with Charlie as a mom.
“And, you don’t already have some bratty other kid that’ll bully it, so that’s a plus!”
Lisa and Charlie exchanged looks. “Yeah, well we definitely don’t have any other kid.” Charlie said at last. “That parts for sure.”
Dean realized that was probably a touchy subject.
“Right… so we all agree that a traditional closed adoption will be what we do.” Crowley said, and Dean decided that he definitely did not like him.
“That sounds like it’s for the best.” Bobby agreed.
“Mrs. and Mrs. Braeden have also agreed to compensate you for any medical expenses.” Crowley added.
“Are you looking for any other sort of compensation?” Lisa asked.
“What?” Bobby asked.
“What the fuck? I’m not going to sell the thing to you!” Dean bursted. The adults all turned to stare at him, and Dean realized he was putting his foot in his mouth again. “Er, uh. I just meant that I’m not doing this make money… I just want it to grow up with people who will love it and take care of it.”
Lisa beamed. “I want to be a mom so badly.” She said, leaning into Charlie’s space.
Charlie kissed the top of her head. “We both do.”
***
Dean was sitting on the floor of his bedroom, leaning against his bed. He was going through some book about omega pregnancy that Lisa and Charlie had given him, while Cas listened to him talk.
“They’re honestly the best, Cas. They really just want to start their family and stuff.”
“That’s really great, Dean, it sounds like you’re doing a good thing for them.” Cas replied.
Dean had tried to call him as soon as he got home, but his nerves got the best of him. It didn’t matter, though, because Cas ended up calling him, first.
“Do you- do you think that maybe you should meet them too? I wanna make sure that you like ‘em.”
“I don’t need to meet them, Dean.”
“Oh.” Dean flipped to a picture of two men holding a baby, looking down at it lovingly. He quickly moved on to the next page, not wanting to think too hard about families.
“It’s not that I don’t want to, I’m just saying that I don’t need to in order for you to chose them as the couple that adopts the baby. That’s your decision.
“Right.”
They were quiet for a few moments, Dean flipping through the book, and Cas doing his homework. He pressed the speaker phone button, and set in on his bed. He closed his eyes and listened to the soothing scritch-scratch of Cas’s frantic pencil.
“I haven’t told my dad yet.” Dean confessed.
The pencil scratching stopped. “Are you going to?” Cas asked.
Cas understood Dean’s complicated relationship with John, and it was nice not having to explain himself to him.
John and Dean had never been close, but it didn’t stop Dean from trying desperately during the first twelve years of his life to change that. After his mom had died in a car crash on the way home from work, John was never the same. He sold their house in Lawrence, and set off with four-year old Dean and baby Sam, working odd jobs from town to town. Bobby, who had been John’s childhood friend, eventually put his foot down while they were sweeping Sioux Falls, and John left.
Now John called every couple of months to check in on them. He’s been working through Arizona these last couple of years, and sends Dean and Sam a cactus every holiday. Which is nice, but it’s like, thanks a heap Coyote Ugly, this cactusgram stings worse than your abandonment.
Dean sighed. “I kind of have to, right? What if he shows up at the house and I’m walkin’ around like I’m Kim Kardashian?”
“Who’s that?” Cas asked, politely ignoring the fact that John hadn’t visited them in over a year, and it wasn’t likely that they would hear from him soon.
“She’s… nevermind. Point is, I gotta tell him, dude. He’s my dad, he’s gotta know this shit.”
“Are you going to call him?”
Dean slammed the pregnancy book closed. “Probably. Maybe next week. I’m s’posed to start showing soon.”
Cas didn’t say anything, but Dean imagined that he probably wanted to get back to his homework. “Anyways, thanks for calling me, dude.”
“Of course, Dean. I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay.”
Dean felt his heart constrict, and he blew out a breath, trying not to let his voice get shaky. “You just uh, you’re pretty good at taking care of me, y’know? No one else has ever done that before.”
“Bobby takes care of you.” Cas pointed out.
“Yeah but uh, not like you do, Cas.”
They ended up talking for a while after that, because that’s what they always end up doing when they start to hang up. Dean fell asleep with a huge grin on his face, and he knew that he was royally fucked.