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They were too far away, the witch that Castiel was fighting muttering an incantation while laughing insanely—the angel pinned to the wall.
“Cas!” Dean shouted, distracted just long enough for the witch that he and Sam were fighting to fling him against the wall—Sam let off a shot, her body crumpling to the ground.
“You okay?” Sam asked Dean, glancing down at him as he pulled up a shotgun and cocked it.
Nodding shortly, Dean pushed himself up to his feet as they both rushed over to the last witch.
While Dean drew its attention, Sam wasted no time in filling it with buckshot. Once they were sure she was down, they both hurried over to where Castiel had slid down the wall, one shaking hand on his head.
“Cas? Cas, are you okay?” Dean asked in concern as he crouched down in front of their friend, he glanced up at Sam when Castiel didn’t respond. “Any idea what she hit him with?”
Sam shook his head, brows knit together in concern. “No—but at least it didn’t look like any of the possession spells—“
Cas raised his head focusing first on Dean, who gave him an encouraging look, and then Sam, who looked at him warily.
“Cas?” Sam asked as Dean helped the angel to his feet.
Without another word, Castiel grabbed both of them in a tight hug. “My poor little ones, how did you get here? Do not worry, Daddy will take of you.”
“Wh—?”
“Cas—?”
Before their shock could even fully register, there was the all too familiar flutter of feathers and they suddenly found themselves back at the bunker in the living room—weaponless.
Letting go of Sam, Castiel shifted his grip onto Dean who had started to struggle, one hand holding onto the back of his head. “My poor little angels. Everything is all right now, Daddy will change you and then you will feel much better.”
The angel hefted Dean up onto his hip like baby, the hunter straining to get loose.
“What the fuck, Cas?” He growled as Castiel maintained his grip. “Sam—give me a hand—“
Sam closed his opened mouth and was starting to move forward to intervene when he felt himself pushed firmly against the wall a foot off the ground.
“Your turn will be next, Sammy, you know babies take longer to get ready for bed.” Cas told him gently.
“That damn witch put a spell on you, Cas, don’t you remember the fight?” Dean asked desperately. “This isn’t you, Cas—mmf!”
A blue pacifier was suddenly stuck in his mouth, any attempt to spit it out thwarted—damnit, Cas must have used his mojo on it, Dean thought in angry embarrassment.
“There you go little one.” Castiel crooned lovingly.
“Cas, there’s a spell on you!” Sam tried, tearing his gaze away from his older brother who was still trying to rid himself of the pacifier, his movements inadvertently making him suck on the thing. “The witch hit you with something—you were against the wall—“
Humming to Dean, Castiel gave Sam a smile and then left the room.
“Cas!”
Castiel ignored Sam’s frantic voice and went down the corridor, ignoring Sam’s and Dean’s rooms and opening the door to one of the spare rooms.
For a moment, Dean stopped trying to get rid of the pacifier and just stared.
The room was painted a creamy color with faint blue accents, a bookshelf with baby books on it was in the corner, a pile of toys on the carpet in front of it—and…
It was a fucking nursery, all with adult sized furniture—a crib, a changing table, a rocking chair--
As Castiel started moving towards the changing table, Dean suddenly got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach—oh hell no!
His attempts to tell Cas again that he was under some whack job spell only resulted in furious sounding sucking noises from hi—the pacifier. Nononono—
In one last ditch effort to avoid the changing table at all costs, Dean wrapped his arms and legs tightly around the angel, clinging on for dear life.
Castiel paused and ran a soothing hand through Dean’s hair. “Oh, you’re all right now, my little angel.” He cooed. He moved to the changing table again, attempting to put Dean down who had clung to him even tighter.
“Oh, my poor baby, it has been a long day for you, hasn’t it? There, there.” He rubbed Dean’s back and then used some of his mojo to pry away his arms and legs, sitting him on the end of the table and quickly stripping his shirt and jacket off.
Subconsciously, Dean started to suck on the pacifier harder as he started to panic.
Forcing him back onto the table, Cas carefully strapped him on and then proceeded to remove the rest of the hunter’s clothes.
Squeezing his eyes shut, face burning with embarrassment and helpless to do anything with Cas’s grace helping to pin him down, Dean felt the angel get him ready for a diaper with lotion and powder before finally slipping a diaper underneath his butt and pulling the tabs firmly shut. Dean blinked away embarrassed angry tears as Castiel gave his bare stomach a comforting rub and then walked away to the dresser.
Selecting a creamy colored onezie with pale blue letters spelling out ‘Daddy’s Little Angel’ the angel quickly dressed Dean and buttoned it at the crotch before pulling Dean back onto his hip and heading back to the living room.
Where Sam is, Dean thought belatedly as he attempted to make himself as small as possible, his head buried in Cas’s neck. There were sucking sounds.
When the angel reentered the room, all Sam could do was stare in shock and sympathetic embarrassment as he saw his brother, the badass hunter, dressed up like a baby and sucking on a pacifier.
Cas snapped his fingers and suddenly a large adult sized playpen appeared in the corner of the room, random toys littering the inside.
He pried Dean away from his neck and lowered him into the playpen, giving his head a fond pat as he turned his attention onto Sam who found himself standing back on the ground.
Castiel held out a hand. “Come on, Sammy, your turn.”
“Cas, this is a spell—“ Sam tried again, his shoulder blades attempting to dig into the wall behind him. “We can fix this—“
Castiel smiled at him in amusement and reached out to take his hand. “Oh, Sammy, trying to be a big boy again?”
“Cas—“
The angel ignored him and led him down the corridor, Sam unsure if he should try to actually attack the angel—but he took our weapons, he remembered ruefully. He didn’t want to hurt Castiel, but this had gone too far already—he needed to be stopped.
He frowned as they passed his and Dean’s rooms and then stopped abruptly as he caught sight of Dean’s new room.
“What the hell—?”
A gentle tug on his arm got him moving again, even as he craned his head to get a better look—there was a crib…and a changing table…
“Here we are.” Castiel said brightly as he opened the door to the next room.
Sam felt his jaw drop.
The room was filled with greens and blues, a giant tree painted on one wall with shelves along the branches that were filled with books and toys. There was a bed shaped like a racecar with a Spiderman blanket over the top, a stuffed animal in shape of a turtle lying just in front of the pillows. The bed was low, just as it would be for a child.
Reaching out, Sam traced the back of the turtle’s shell.
He started. Wait, how—?
Looking around in confusion, he realized that he had walked into the room, Castiel at the dresser as he pulled out a pale blue t-shirt with the word ‘vroom’ on it, and denim looking shorts with an elastic waistband. And a pull-up.
“Lets get those icky clothes off, hm?” Castiel asked as he started towards him. Sam almost fell over the bed as he tried to scramble away. His efforts were for not though, the angel quickly stopping him with his mojo and casually stripping him down. Sam’s face burned as he felt the pull-up move snugly over his hips. Then came the shirt and then the shorts.
When he was done, Cas started to lead him out of the room and Sam decided it was now or never.
“Um, Cas, can I stay here for a minute?” He asked.
The angel turned to him with a confused look. “What was that, baby?”
“Uh, I want to play with the toys.” Sam said slowly.
“Play, is that what you want?” Sam nodded quickly. “How do you ask Daddy?”
“Er, can I play, Cas?”
Sam’s lips tightened as he saw Cas still looking at him expectantly.
“…can I play—Daddy?” His face burned.
“What’s the special word, baby?”
“…please?”
Castiel pulled him into a hug. “All right, little one, you may play awhile before dinner time.”
The angel headed down the hallway.
In the living room, Dean had tried instantly to stand up and get out of the cage when he was stopped by an invisible barrier and fell down onto his butt.
Great.
He tried it a few more times but always with the same results. Apparently it was set just low enough that he could either sit or crawl but couldn’t walk.
Frowning, he turned his eyes to the toys that were in the cage.
Blocks with cars and letters engraved in green on them, a baby blue blanket, a teething ring…
What the hell?
Before he could think more about it, Cas had come back with no Sammy.
He came over to the playpen and ran a hand through Dean’s hair again.
“Oh, who’s a handsome little angel?” He cooed.
Dean scowled.
In his room, Sam had waited until he heard the footsteps recede and then he had rushed over to the toys on the floor, quickly looking for anything sharp.
Yeah, cause kids rooms are known for that, he thought inwardly as he came up blank. His eyes fell onto several toy cars and he quickly snatched one up, quickly prying it apart and revealing a jagged edge.
Pressing it to his palm, wincing as it dug through his skin, he hurried to the wall and started to make a banishing sigil with his blood.
Once he’s gone, we'll put up some anti-angel sigils and he won’t be able to teleport in, and then we can figure out this whole spell thing, Sam thought as he smeared more blood onto the wall—his movements quickened as he heard footsteps coming down the corridor.
Just as the door opened, he slammed his palm down onto the sigil—
Nothing.
What?! That’s not possible! Sam desperately slapped his hand on the symbol again.
Castiel was looking at him in disappointment and concern. “Poor boy, what did you do?” He reached out and healed Sam’s hand, the sigil and the blood that dripped on the floor disappearing as well.
But, but—this was supposed to work! Sam thought in confusion. Unless—he’s not an angel? But then he wouldn’t be able to heal—
“You will have to be punished for this, Sammy. You must learn not to do these sorts of things. Daddy doesn’t want you to be hurt.” He pulled Sam out of the room and headed to the living room—before they could reach it though, Sam had managed to shrug free and raced towards the door, his hands fumbling at the handle before realizing that it wouldn’t open.
“No!”
Castiel sighed behind him and used his mojo to move Sam into the living room where there was a small chair in the corner. “You will sit there until I say you can move. I’m going to go and prepare dinner and if I hear any talking I might have to change your punishment. Do you understand, little one?”
Sam nodded shortly, staring at the wall in front of him as his knees almost touched his chin.
Castiel gave him a pat on the head and then headed out of the room.
From his cage, Dean sucked on his pacifier fiercely, totally unaware of the action, as he watched his brother.
So they were locked in, that wasn’t good. The bunker was warded against everything—which meant that while nothing got in, nothing got out either.
He wanted to talk to his brother but he couldn’t so ended up just feeling even more frustrated and helpless.
Sam stared at the wall unseeingly. I should have gone for the library and somehow locked myself in—now who knows when I’ll have another chance?
Twenty minutes later, Castiel came back in, reaching into the playpen to put Dean onto his hip, Dean who hadn’t been paying attention to anything but the slump in his brother’s shoulders exhaled sharply in surprise by the motion, his pacifier slipping out of his mouth.
Wait—I thought Cas mojoed the thing to stay in my mouth? Dean thought in confusion.
Castiel noticed the look on Dean’s face and misinterpreted it, bending down to pick up the fallen soother. Feeling himself start to fall, Dean quickly wrapped his arms around Cas’s neck, his legs wrapping around the angel’s waist.
The angel rubbed his back soothingly and straightened up, placing the pacifier into Dean’s mouth which had opened slightly in response to seeing the object.
What the fuck?! Dean thought as he spat out the thing.
Cas simply picked it up again and put it back into Dean’s mouth before heading over to Sam and putting a hand on his head.
“All right, your punishment is over, time for dinner, little ones.”
Sam unfolded himself awkwardly and allowed himself to be pulled into the kitchen—if he could get Castiel into a false sense of security, maybe he could find another opportunity to slip into the library and set up some seals.
Sitting down at the table, he watched wincing in sympathy as Castiel set Dean into a highchair and buckled him in, the tray snapping down in front of him.
Castiel served up two bowls of soup for himself and Sam, a sippy cup of water by his bowl, and then what looked like baby food in front of Dean with a rubber children’s spoon with what looked like the letter D on the handle.
Sam reluctantly started to eat, he was starving and he needed to keep his wits about him if he wanted to escape.
Castiel tried to remove the pacifier from Dean’s mouth so he could feed him, but Dean apparently had clamped down on the soother and was folding his arms, a scowl on his face. No way was he going to eat that stuff, he was a grown-ass man for gods sake!
After a few more attempts, Castiel seemed to give up and finished his own food, which was strange since angels didn’t have to eat—maybe he was doing it just for the look of the thing?
Sam ate three bowls of soup before Castiel took away the dishes and unbuckled Dean from the highchair, slinging him on his hip again.
“You want to watch some TV before bed, Sammy?” Castiel asked
Sam nodded quietly. Just play along…
The trio headed back into the living room and Sam set up a Disney movie because apparently the news was not something kids watched, and Castiel settled down on the couch, rearranging Dean so that he was cradling him like a baby, his mojo keeping the hunter in place when he started to struggle.
Sam glanced over, a concerned frown on his face. He was still wondering why Dean was in diapers while he wasn’t. He felt a little guilty as he was glad about that.
Castiel snapped his fingers and a bottle appeared in his hand, Dean’s eyes widening in horror.
Forcing his mouth open with his mojo, Castiel deftly exchanging the pacifier for the bottle and then when Dean refused to suck, pressed some of the liquid into Dean’s mouth.
Dean had had every intention of trying to spit the liquid out somehow, but his growling stomach had other ideas. As soon as the creamy mixture hit his tongue, he found himself sucking at the bottle hungrily, more warm liquid coming out as he started to swallow rhythmically.
By the end of the bottle, he was half asleep, hardly struggling as Cas moved him so he was slumped against his shoulder, his back being patted.
A loud burp escaped and suddenly he was awake and confused.
“Wha--?”
“Shh, shh, little one, it’s time for bed I think.” Castiel murmured soothingly as he stroked his head. He turned off the TV and held out a hand for Sam.
Reluctantly taking it, Sam was guided down the hall to the bathroom.
“Brush your teeth while I put your baby brother to bed, then I will come back, okay?”
Sam nodded shortly as he saw the kid’s toothbrush by the sink along with kid’s toothpaste—wait, did he say baby brother? He looked around but Castiel was gone. I guess that explains the diapers. He squeezed out some toothpaste onto his toothbrush and started to clean his teeth.
Castiel took Dean into his nursery and laid him down into the crib, checking his diaper one more time before pulling a fluffy yellow blanket over him.
Pressing a kiss to his forehead, thumb stroking his cheek, Castiel whispered. “Sweet dreams, little angel.” And then left the room, leaving the door opened a crack.
Dean blinked sleepily and then promptly tried to climb over the crib bars—once again an invisible force stopped him and he was forced back down onto his padded bottom.
Damnit.
Flopping back down onto his back, he pulled the blanket back over himself.
There was a mobile gently turning above him, what looked like horse moving around in circles as the faint melody of ‘Hey, Jude’ drifted out over him.
Blinking, he drifted off slowly to sleep.
“Are you done?” Castiel asked Sam who was just opening the bathroom door.
“Yes.”
“Did you go potty?”
Sam’s face burned but he nodded.
“All right, time for bed then.”
Taking his hand again, Castiel led them back to Sam’s new room and tucked the younger Winchester in, kissing his forehead lightly as he placed the stuffed turtle into his hands. “Sleep well, baby.”
Castiel left the room, the door still open a crack.
Sam suddenly became aware that there was a nightlight in the wall emitting soft green and gold colors.
It was actually pretty soothing…
Eyelids drooping against his will, Sam fell asleep, absently snuggling up to the turtle in his hands.
In the middle of the night, Dean shifted uncomfortably and woke up.
As he was wondering what had gotten him up, he became aware of his bladder making itself known.
Dean swore, scrambling up, intent to climb over the side of the crib—he had forgotten about the barrier and ended up flat on his back.
“Shit!”
He peered through the bars anxiously debating on whether or not calling Cas would have any effect or if he would try to force him to use the damn diaper.
His bladder twinged just as he caught sight of a baby monitor on a small table across from him.
Gritting his teeth, Dean pressed his knees together even as he felt his tenuous hold on his bladder starting to fade. Having no other choice, Dean glared at the baby monitor miserably. “Cas?” He asked in a timid voice that surprised him.
He cleared his throat. “Cas?” He asked a little louder.
Sweat beaded on his forehead as he glanced at the door.
“Cas!” He hissed.
He hesitated—but he had to try. “Daddy?”
Almost immediately, the door swung open sharply, the surprise making Dean jerk—sudden warmth spreading into his diaper as tears of frustration came to his eyes.
“Oh, what’s the matter, little one?” The angel asked in concern as he moved over to the crib and pulled Dean out. There was a telltale squish, Dean hiding his head in embarrassment in Cas’s shoulder.
I can’t believe I just pissed in a freakin’ diaper! Dean thought as more tears came to his eyes.
“Ohh, I see, you need your diaper changed, huh?”
“No—“ Almost immediately, Dean felt the familiar rubber of the pacifier enter his mouth, his lips clamping down on it as he started to suck fretfully.
He felt himself set down on the changing table, the straps carefully secured.
Despite his best efforts, tears of humiliation leaked from the corners of his eyes.
Something was pushed gently into his hands and he instinctively clutched at it pulling it close to his chest to block the view of Cas changing his diaper.
“There we go. Oh my poor baby, why are you crying? Oh you did have a long day didn’t you?”
Cas picked him up and started to rub soothing circles onto Dean’s back as he walked around the room slowly.
The motion was soothing and in spite of himself, Dean felt himself relax, eyes slipping closed.
The angel walked with him for a few minutes before he was sure his little angel was asleep and then he carefully laid Dean back into the crib, pulling the yellow blanket over him and brushing a kiss over his hair.
He left the room and left Dean slumbering quietly.
It was the next morning when Dean realized that the shit had hit the fan.
Waking up from what he would grudgingly admit was the best sleep he had had in awhile he stretched and sat up.
He realized that he was still holding whatever Cas had given to him yesterday and instantly dropped it as if he had been burned.
It was freaking stuffed bee!
Unconsciously, he had started to suck faster at the pacifier which he didn’t even realize he still had, still in shock.
Fuck.
Sam had also woken up in the early hours of the morning, dropping the turtle sheepishly as he got out of bed and crept to the door.
Opening it, he carefully went into the hall and started to go down the hall in the direction of the library.
He never got there, his eyes had caught sight of the cream colored walls in Dean’s nursery and he cautiously pushed open the door.
After Sam had taken in every horrible detail, he looked back at his brother who was sitting in his crib, a stuffed bee and pacifier pushed to the side. And if Dean had looked pissed off before, he was absolutely on edge now, his fingers drumming restlessly on his bare legs.
For a moment they were both silent. Dean pointed wordlessly over at where Sam saw baby monitor, its light blinking.
Switching it off, Sam went closer to the crib and leaned over the side.
“Dude, we have to kill Cas—I’m sorry but that’s the only way.” Dean whispered as he glanced reflexively over at the door as if expecting Cas to walk in at any moment. Sam couldn’t blame him, he was doing the same thing.
“Why are you still in the crib?” Sam couldn’t help but ask receiving a death glare from his older brother in response.
“Because the bastard put some type of barrier in place, just like in that freakin’ playpen—I can’t stand up, only sit or crawl like a damn baby.” Dean hissed back in frustration, demonstrating. He fell back hard on his butt and then glared at Sam.
“Ah. Well, even if we wanted to, we wouldn’t be able to kill Cas, he got rid of all the weapons.” Sam replied in a low voice as they both glanced over to the door again. “But I have another plan—I’m going to go to the library and seal myself in, then I’ll see if I can figure out how to break the spell or curse or whatever and then we’ll be free.”
Dean had started to look hopeful at the sound of a plan but then he grew dejected and leaned his head against the bars of his cage.
“Coupla problems with that, Sammy. One, where the hell am I in this scenario? Still being looked after by the whack job with wings? Thanks a lot. Second, how long do you think you could stay holed up in there? There’s no food, no way out, and no bathroom. What are you going to do, piss in a corner? Or maybe make use of that pull-up?” He looked over at where Sam’s shirt had ridden up, revealing the top of the garment in question.
Blushing, Sam pulled down his shirt.
“Seriously? I’m wearing a freakin’ diaper, in a damn adult sized nursery, and you’re embarrassed by those? Give me a break, you have it easy.” Dean snapped in annoyance.
He’s got a point, Sam admitted feeling ashamed.
“Well do you have a better plan?” He asked impatiently. “I mean, even if I can’t stay there forever, it might at least be long enough to break the spell on Cas.”
Dean sighed. No, he didn’t have a better plan—he just wished that he could escape into the library as well. “No. You better go then before—“
“Oh, did you want to see your baby brother, Sammy?”
Both of them jumped, Sam spinning around guiltily.
“Uh, yes?”
Castiel smiled at him warmly, one hand tousling Sam’s hair. “Aren’t you a good big brother.”
Reaching into Dean’s crib he felt the diaper, Dean’s face turning red.
“Still dry.” Cas said brightly as he turned to Sam. “Why don’t we let your brother wake all the way up, it’s time for your bath.”
“Bath?” Sam faltered his eyes flicking over to Dean nervously.
“Kill him.” Dean mouthed.
Castiel practically dragged Sam from the room and to the bathroom where a bath had already been drawn. He stripped Sam of his clothes, the younger hunter’s face turning red as he stepped gingerly into the bath and sunk down into the water.
Humming slightly, Cas put some toys into the water and then started to use a soapy washcloth to scrub Sam down, leaving Sam even more embarrassed.
Rinsing his hair, Cas helped him from the tub and dried him before helping him into another pair of pull ups and a bright orange shirt and overalls.
“Now, do you need to use the potty before breakfast?” Castiel asked him solemnly.
Reddening, Sam nodded.
“Do you need help, baby?”
Shaking his head vehemently, Castiel laughed chucked him under the chin and then left the bathroom.
When he came back, Sam was just reopening the door and saw Dean being held by Castiel.
“Go and watch TV for a while, baby. I’m going to take care of your brother now.” Castiel instructed.
Sam gave Dean a sympathetic look and then did as he was told.
It was too bad that the library was in the opposite direction and right past the bathroom or he might have tried right then to get to the library and put his plan into motion. Sighing, he settled onto the couch and started to flip through the channels.
In the bathroom, Dean was going through much the same process as his brother had, unfortunately, both the shampoo and the soap had distinctly baby scents to them so that when Cas was drying him, he smelled literally like a—well, like a freakin’ baby.
Picking him up in the towel, Cas went back to the garish nursery and laid Dean onto the changing table, holding up a decidedly thicker diaper than before that had the words Little Prince all over them.
“Ser—“ He started before the all too familiar feel of the pacifier was in his mouth.
“Shh, shh.” Cas shushed him as he started to apply the diaper lotion and powder.
Dean resignedly started to suck on the pacifier. It wasn’t like he could spit it out anyway, Cas would just put it back. It had nothing to do with the suddenly calm feeling that came over him.
With that done, Dean felt himself being picked up, his arms circling around Cas’s neck as the angel pressed a kiss to his check. “Aw, my little angel, did you miss your Daddy?”
Dean ignored him, his face blazing as he instinctively hid his head under Cas’s chin. A voice in the back of his head asked him what the hell he was doing, but another one said that there was no way out, might as well get used to it. Castiel laughed. “Shy little baby.” Castiel moved over to the dresser, one hand keeping a firm grip on Dean and the other reaching inside the drawer
Sitting Dean down inside of the crib, Castiel disappeared back to the dresser and rummaged around some more before pulling something out that Dean couldn’t see from his position. Moving over to the crib, Castiel smiled down at Dean who was looking up at him in suspicion. “Up.” He said.
Almost instantly, Dean felt his arms go up, something soft and almost fleecy slipping over his head. Looking down to see what he was wearing, Cas’s hands quickly fastening the buttons at the back, Dean felt his heart stop, pacifier slipping from his mouth.
It was a footed onesie—with damn mittens so he lost the use of his hands.
Blue and fluffy, it was almost exactly what you would put on a newborn—
Staring at it in horror, wishing the nightmare would end, Dean was only dimly aware of Cas pulling a little hood over his head as he started trying to pull it off.
But Cas must’ve used some of his mojo on it, because Dean couldn’t even shift it a little.
Tears of humiliation and anger once more flooded Dean’s eyes, and unlike last time when he could stop them, this time the floodgates opened. Before he knew it, he was sobbing.
He was only half-aware that Cas had picked him up and was rocking him back and forth, murmuring soothing sounding words.
Peeking in from the door, the cries making him race over, Sam watched in equal parts horror and fascination at his brother’s new outfit and the fact that he was snuggling deeper against Cas, one hand clutched into the front of Cas’s shirt while the other fisted at his eyes ineffectually.
He couldn’t let his brother suffer like this anymore, he had to chance it.
Taking a deep breath, Sam crept past the door, thankful that it was only open a crack and that the rocking chair didn’t have a good view of it.
Diving into the library, Sam quickly locked the door and set up making the necessary seals to keep away angels and demons, and whatever else. He still wasn’t sure why the banishing sigil hadn’t worked on Cas—for all they knew, that wasn’t even Cas.
Quickly finishing his work, Sam dragged a heavy chair in front of it, and a table, and the other table, before starting to pull books from the shelves—there had to be something in one of them.
In the nursery, Castiel started at the dragging sound, his movement making Dean clutch at him even tighter.
Standing up, holding Dean close, Castiel started down the hallway.
At the library door, he suddenly found himself unable to reach the handle.
He paused, musing.
“Your brother is very naughty, Dean, he will have to be punished when he comes out.” Castiel told his baby.
Deciding he could wait, he took his baby to the living room, it was time for his bottle.
The work was slow, but at least Sam had found a couple of bottles of water and some expired protein bars.
If he rationed, he would be able to last up to twelve days. He had been hoping to find something fast, before Dean—well before he broke, but it took every bit of the eleven days before Sam finally came across the spell the witch had used on Cas and then the reversal of the spell.
Luckily, the reversal process was simple, all you had to do was get the infected party to stand in a special circle.
He wasted no time in quickly making the circle right in front of the door and then throwing a rug over it for good measure.
Breathing deep, the moment of truth approaching, he unlocked the door and opened it before going a few feet away and laying down on the ground. It was all to lull Cas into a false sense of security—and to make him not wonder about the rug.
He cleared his throat.
“Daddy!” He shouted, trying to sound weak and helpless.
It worked like a charm, Castiel was bursting through the door in seconds—
He froze as he fully stepped over the circle and then screamed as something black and slimy burst from his throat and imploded.
Scrambling to his feet, Sam looked over at where Cas was swaying slightly.
“Cas?” He asked hopefully.
The angel blinked a few times and then raised a hand to his head in puzzlement. “Yes, Sam?”
Sam breathed out a sigh of relief.
Cas’s face changed as he suddenly remembered everything that had happened. “Father, what have I done?” He moaned in embarrassment.
“Something that we will never talk about again. Ever.” Sam put in adamantly. “Where’s Dean?”
Cas winced and headed down the hall, Sam at his heels.
“Whoa—“ Sam stopped when they entered the nursery. Dean was sleeping in his crib, swaddled in a fuzzy yellow blanket, pacifier in his mouth, and was clutching a bee to his chest.
Cas snapped his fingers and the room returned to how it had looked before, shabby and dusty, with Dean back in his regular clothes on the floor. Sam looked down to realize that Cas had changed his clothes back as well. “I have taken the liberty of changing the rest of the bunker back to the way it was as well.” He muttered awkwardly.
Dean started to shift and whine, his mouth making vague sucking motions as he searched for his pacifier, hands groping beside him for his bee.
Dean, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have taken so long, Sam thought as he crouched down by his brother and carefully shook him awake. “Dean? Dean it’s me, Sam.”
The eyes that looked up at him looked a little lost and confused for a minute and then Dean reached a shaking hand up. “Sammy?” He whispered, his voice rough.
“Yeah, yeah it’s me, I broke the spell, Dean, Cas is back to normal—“
“Cas?” Dean’s eyes flicked over Sam’s shoulder where Cas was watching guiltily. “D—daddy?” He questioned raising his arms in the universal gesture to pick me up.
Cas hesitated, looking over at Sam who nodded. Moving closer he picked up Dean who immediately clung tightly to him.
“Daddy—Sammy—d—don’t punish him.” Dean begged, his words sounding strange after so long of not being able to talk.
Cas looked startled. “I’m not going to punish him, Dean. It is I who should be punished for putting you both through this ordeal—“
“No! Daddy’s—don’t—get punished.” Dean’s eyes filled with tears.
“It’s okay, Dean, Cas—your daddy won’t get punished, it’s all right.” Sam was quick to reassure his brother, patting him on the back.
Over Dean’s head Sam and Cas shared a hopeless look.
“He’s probably still sleepy, Cas why don’t you put him down in his bed?” Sam suggested.
Cas nodded mutely and followed Sam to his brother’s room. Trying to put Dean down though proved to be hard than they thought as apparently after the whole ‘punishing’ trial, Dean didn’t want to let his daddy go.
Finally, Cas put his fingers to Dean’s head, the hunter instantly going slack.
Settling him down in the bed, Cas pulled a blanket over him and stepped back giving Sam a mournful look.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know, Cas.” Sam sighed running a hand through his hair. “Is there any way you can erase the past week and a half from his mind—?”
Cas shook his head. “It appears that Dean has tied the memories of this—incident—to other events and memories from his past, specifically his mother and father when he was a baby. If I tried to remove these memories, it would destroy the other memories, causing damage to his mind.”
“Shit.” Sam swore. “Do you think he might just pop back on his own?”
“It’s possible.” Cas shifted uncomfortably. “I should go—“
“What? You can’t, if Dean isn’t all the way out of this, he’s going to go ballistic if you aren’t here.” Sam protested.
“Isn’t cold turkey supposed to work?” Castiel asked in confusion.
“You already said his mind is fragile right now, the calmer he is the better.”
Cas nodded. “If you think it best.”
Unfortunately, it took several days to even convince Dean to start calling Castiel Cas, forgetting about the toys was surprisingly easy, and it was over two weeks before he stopped panicking whenever Cas left the room. Getting him used to real food was a little trickier, his stomach had to gradually get used the heavier foods, and using utensils to feed himself proved to be a challenge as well. But not as much as retraining his body to use the bathroom when he had to go and not just relieve himself wherever.
It was an incredibly stressful time for both Winchesters and Castiel. Luckily it had only taken a few days before Big Dean started to remember what had happened.
It had passed a month since the incident and Dean was in the kitchen drinking a large glass of milk when Sam walked in surprising him.
The glass slipped from his fingers and crashed onto the floor, glass shards flying everywhere, a guilty look on Dean’s face as he tried to hide the gallon of milk behind his back.
Sam repressed a sigh. That was another thing, after the whole incident that shall not be named, Dean had suffered from some side effects. He loved warm milk, but knew that he only liked it because of the incident, so did his best to hide it from his brother, who knew all about it. When he thought he might be caught, he usually just drunk the milk cold, like he was now, and then look incredibly guilty about the whole affair. Then there was the pacifier. Every time his big brother got stressed, he would make these clicking sounds with his tongue, once even starting to put his thumb in his mouth before he stopped himself. Sam had reasoned that some habits were just harder to break than others and had left a pacifier in Dean’s room which he had never heard or seen about it after—though one time he had gone to check on Dean and found him sucking on it contentedly while he slept, a soft teddy bear cuddled to his chest. Oh yes, the teddy bear, Sam really didn’t have the heart to take it away from Dean, so pretended to know nothing about it.
“So, what’s up, Sam?” Dean asked casually, inadvertently letting some clicks go before clamping his mouth shut.
“Dean, I told you, not only babies drink milk, it’s fine if you like it, really.” Sam said as he started to clean up the mess. Of course, Dean’s habits only got worse when he was stressed, like it was a safety mechanism. And he knew why his brother was so stressed out this week to try and drink milk in the middle of the day when he knew Sam was home.
Dean felt his face burn and he wordlessly put away the milk gallon before helping his brother.
When they had finished, Sam started to make himself a quick PB and J, purposely pouring himself a glass of milk and sitting down at the table where Dean was now relaxing with a beer in hand.
Dean’s eyes flicked to the milk before he looked away pointedly.
Sam rolled his eyes and finished his breakfast in silence before putting the dishes in the sink and turning to Dean.
“So, I talked to Cas.” Sam saw Dean’s eyes light up before Dean was able to mask his expression.
“Oh yeah?” He asked nonchalantly.
That was the other thing. Dean had gotten extremely clingy to Cas. They had tried to slowly break that habit, Cas at first just leaving for an hour, then a few more, then a few more, a day, etc. Dean had been doing well with it, and then Sam and Cas had decided to kick things up a notch and keep Cas away for over a week.
That’s when Dean started to get stressed, all his habits from the incident back in full force. It was because of a particularly bad nightmare Dean had yesterday, calling out for his Daddy tears streaming down his face, that Sam had decided to cut the experiment short. They would start over once Dean calmed down enough.
“Yeah, he’s coming over—“
“He is? I mean, I thought he was going to stay away longer.” Dean looked away.
“We decided that this is long enough for a first try.” Sam said.
“Hey, I’m fine, Sam, he can stay away for as long as he wants, I’m good.” Dean told him stiffly.
Sam paused, about to start telling Dean that it was okay, after the incident, it just would take time—but one look at his brother’s face made him swallow down the words. His brother did not want to hear that, his brother wanted himself to be fine, he didn’t want to have any reminder of the incident, but he did and was embarrassed and ashamed. He didn’t need his younger brother to point out that being a baby for a while was fine.
“Yeah, I know, but Cas is the one who wants to cut it short.” Sam lied. Well, he partially lied. Cas had become extremely protective over Dean after the whole incident, he knew that the goal was to get Dean back to the way he was, but he still had trouble being away from his charge. He was always concerned that he might be pushing Dean too far too soon, and seeing Dean in any way vulnerable and then having to leave him was hard on the angel.
Dean frowned uncertainly. “He did?”
“Yup, called me this morning.”
“Well, whatever, angels just do whatever the hell they want.” Dean shrugged and left his empty beer on the table as he exited the room.
Sam smiled softly and then put away the empty bottle and went into the hallway just in time to see Dean peeking out of the window.
Sam tried to backup into the kitchen but Dean heard him and jumped around in surprise, his face reddening.
“I—I was just—“
“Checking the seals on the door, right? Good thinking, we don’t want any demons to slink in here after Cas.” Sam waited, seeing if Dean would take the easy out he’d just given him.
“Right, right. That’s exactly what I thought.” Dean agreed hastily in relief as he made a show of checking the door. “All good here—“
The door suddenly opened, Castiel half stepping through as Dean jumped.
There was a moment of silence.
“Hello, Dean, Sam.” Castiel said.
“Hey, Cas.” Sam smiled at him. Dean remained silent, his eyes locked onto Cas’s face.
“Is something the matter, Dean?” Castiel asked, concern on his brow as he started to reach over to press his fingers to the hunter’s head.
Dean stumbled away from him, dodging his hand. Face burning, he fled the area and disappeared down the corridor.
Sam sighed.
“It’s okay, Cas, he’s just excited to see you.”
The angel frowned as he entered the bunker all the way and closed the door behind him. “I don’t understand, those are not the usual actions for one who is excited.” He said, head tilting a little in confusion.
Sam shrugged helplessly. “It is for Dean. He doesn’t like being weak and out of control. He wants the whole incident to be over and done with. But it isn’t and he doesn’t like feeling so exposed like that—with feelings and needs that he never had before. He—he’s scared.”
“I understand. He doesn’t think he will ever be the same hunter he was before?” Cas mused still concerned. “Things like this take time, but after seeing his progress I have no doubt that he will soon be back to how he was.”
“You and I know that, but he doesn’t believe it.” Sam ran a hand through his hair. “He just keeps saying that he’s fine.”
“He does not wish to appear weak.” Castiel finished. “I see, should I not have come?”
“No, he needs you, even if he won’t admit it.”
“Should I attempt to talk to him?”
Sam shrugged. “Up to you, he might try to hide in his room all day otherwise.”
Castiel nodded and headed after Dean.
Finding his room empty, Castiel headed further down the corridor to the spare room that had been a major part of the incident.
He found Dean sitting against the wall where his crib had been, knees pulled up to his chest and mouth clicking.
He didn’t look up as Castiel sat down beside him.
“When will it be gone?” Dean asked gruffly still refusing to look at the angel. “When will I be back to normal? When will I not feel all these—these things?”
“What things?” Castiel asked gently though he already knew. It would be good for Dean to say it out loud though.
The hunter was silent, wrapping his arms around his knees as he tilted his head forward, trying to curl in on himself as much as possible.
When he spoke it was so quiet that Castiel almost didn’t hear. “I—have a pacifier.”
Encouraged by Castiel’s silence and lack of laughing, Dean pressed on. “And a teddy bear. And when I use them I feel—comforted. And I like warm milk.”
“There is nothing wrong with wanting to be comforted, Dean.” Castiel told him sternly. “Having and liking those things is not a sign of weakness—“
“Yes it is! All of it is! I’m a grown man, grown men don’t need that shit. I can take care of myself—I don’t need you to do it! You’re not my Daddy!” Dean halted abruptly, aware of what he had just said, face turning red as he buried it against his knees again.
Unembarrassed, Castiel put a comforting arm around the hunter’s shoulders. At first Dean started to melt into the embrace, leaning into the angel, a sniffle being heard—then the hunter was suddenly pulling away roughly, scrambling up to his feet.
“No! D—don’t do that!” Dean growled, face set in a deep frown even as his eyes looked pained and just a little too bright.
“Dean—“
“No! I’m not your kid!” Dean shouted, eyes blinking rapidly. “I’m not your kid.”
Getting to his feet, Castiel looked at Dean piercingly. “No, you’re not.”
There was flare of hurt in the hunter’s eyes as he turned away from the angel, his hands rubbing his arms restlessly. “Yeah, well. As long as we agree—“
“I wasn’t finished, Dean.” Castiel moved closer to him. “You are not my child, but that does not mean that I don’t wish that you were.”
Dean spun around, startled. “What?”
“If I had a son I would want him to be like Dean Winchester, the Righteous Man, the rebel, the hunter. I could ask for none better.” Cas said fondly as he reached out and placed his hand on Dean’s cheek warmly.
“You can’t mean that—“ Dean said, emotions warring on his face as he debated on whether or not to pull away from the angel’s touch. “I’m the biggest screw-up there is, most days I’m a freakin’ mess—“
“Dean.” Castiel’s voice instantly made Dean quiet, the hunter suddenly seeming younger and even more vulnerable. “While I wish that the—incident—had never happened, the fatherly love I feel for you has always been there.”
Dean’s eyes glimmered.
“When you eventually get through this, Dean, know that you may always look upon me as a father, though you could do better—“
“No!” Dean looked embarrassed by his outburst but forged ahead. “No, I couldn’t.”
The angel felt a flare of warmth in his chest and quickly pulled Dean into a hug.
Instead of pulling away, Dean melted into the embrace and clutched at Castiel’s coat, a few tears slipping down his cheeks.
“I—I missed you, Cas.” He admitted in a whisper, eyes squeezed closed in an attempt to halt his tears.
“I missed you as well, Dean.”