Chapter Text
Castiel was an expert diaper-changer. He should be. He read every baby book and watched every video online about the subject. Sure, he didn’t have any practical experience short of that one time he babysat, but he had, as Dean put it, “all the right moves.”
He had the moves, but not the equipment. When Lucifer killed Castiel, Dean didn’t just burn his body, but everything in the house he shared with Kelly Kline. Castiel knew this was part of Dean’s grieving and he secretly loved how far off the rails (another Deanism) Dean went after he died, but right now he would have really appreciated the truckload of disposable diapers he purchased just before everything went wrong.
Castiel looked down at the infant squirming under his nimble fingers. Well, not EVERYTHING went wrong. Castiel couldn’t ever remember feeling like this. The moment he laid eyes on baby Jack he was in love. Not the feelings he’d been harboring for Dean that he pushed deep down inside him until he thought he could forget them, but an affection he didn’t know he was capable of feeling. He had warm feelings for Claire but that was more out of a sense of responsibility than anything else. The love he felt for baby Jack was overwhelming and a little terrifying. Still, here he was, a fallen Angel of the Lord, changing the dirty cloth diapers (Sam had insisted on cloth) of his…son.
Lost in his moment of paternal bliss, Castiel didn’t hear the bedroom door open or sense that someone was standing right behind him. He had no idea anyone else existed in the room except for him and the baby. But then he felt that familiar hand on his back and inhaled the scent of the only being he ever truly loved before Jack came along.
Dean.
“Look at you, only been at it a few weeks and you're a regular wet nurse.”
Prior to Kelly’s pregnancy, Castiel wouldn’t have known what that was. But his research served him well. Holding a freshly diapered Jack to his chest, he turned to face his friend.
“Dean, it’s physically impossible for me to breastfeed Jack.”
Dean started to roll his eyes but then changed his mind and let his soft gaze linger all over Castiel’s face. “Man, Cas, I really missed your literal interpretations of every friggin’ thing I say.”
He expertly lifted the baby from Castiel’s grasp, pinching his cheek before cradling him in his arms and walking him around the room. Castiel couldn’t get over how natural Dean was with the baby. It occurred to him that if he couldn’t have been there when Jack was born, he was grateful Dean was there to care for the child.
As if he was reading Castiel’s mind, Dean turned to him and smiled, “I’ve taken care of a few babies in my time. But this one? He’s special. It’s just too bad…” Dean trailed off.
“What’s too bad?” Castiel recognized the somber look on Dean’s face, and he knew he wasn’t going to like whatever Dean said next.
“It’s too bad we’ll have to kill him someday.”
Castiel tried to stay calm.
“Dean. We aren’t going to kill him. He’s a baby.”
“He’s the friggin’ anti-Christ, Cas. And you know it. Now, I cared about Kelly just as much as you did…”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Okay, so you got to know her and probably got to like her a lot…”
“She was a kind, selfless woman who died so that Jack could be here.”
“Are you gonna stop interrupting me? Kelly was great. And it sucks how things ended. But regardless of his mother, Jack’s father is the freaking devil and there is no way that eventually we aren’t gonna have to kill him. You KNOW this, Cas.”
What Castiel knew was that no matter what his deep, forbidden feelings for Dean were, there was no way in heaven or hell that he would let him kill Jack.
“Do you think we all turn out like our fathers, Dean? I’m not like mine. You aren’t like yours.”
“Are you out of your goddamn mind, Cas? We’re EXACTLY like our fathers. Only difference is we both learned to control the asshole part of ourselves.”
Castiel wasn’t so sure that was true. But he wasn’t going to let up.
“So, if we can control ourselves, who's to say Jack won’t be able to control himself? Especially since WE’RE raising him?”
Dean delicately placed Jack in his crib but then spun on his heels toward Castiel.
“WE are not raising him. I wanted to dropkick him into a river, but Sam insisted we bring him home. And then when YOU came back…”
“Because of HIM…”
“Yeah, well, I’m not convinced that’s true. Kid isn’t even six months old yet. How’s he going to be able to say your name? And how come he hasn’t said it since you’ve been back?”
“I know what I heard, Dean.”
Castiel sat on the edge of his bed and the motion produced a loud squeak. Surprised, he jumped up, realizing he sat on one of Jack’s toys. Despite the tone of their conversation, Dean laughed out loud.
“That’s what you get for turning this place into a nursery.”
It was true. The room Sam and Dean had given Castiel, once sparsely decorated and cold, was full of stuffed animals, squeaky toys and so many pieces of baby clothes. Jody Mills sent Castiel her son’s crib and all the clothes and toys she had saved. Castiel appreciated the sacrifice it was for her to finally let go of those things, but it just irked Dean. Before Castiel returned, Jack’s bed was a blanket-filled aluminum tub Dean used to keep beer in. And both Sam and Dean really hated changing diapers, so Jack went around all day, in Dean’s vernacular, ‘bare-assed.’ Castiel used his weeks of studying to turn this one part of the cold, dank bunker into a place for a baby to be happy and thrive. And it seemed to annoy Dean to no end. But Castiel held out hope that Dean could learn to love Jack as Castiel already did.
“Look at you. You’re growing fond of Jack, Dean. I see it.”
Dean shrugged as he walked closer to Castiel.
“I’m fond of YOU, Cas. So, if I have to be nice to the kid to make you happy, I’ll be nice to the kid. For now.”
Castiel didn’t know if he had ever blushed before, but he could feel the heat warming his entire face. Dean had never said anything like that to him unless it was in the middle of some crisis. He told him he needed him. He’s told him he was like a brother to him…family…but saying he was fond of him was the closest he ever came to telling him he loved him. Castiel didn’t want to overthink it, but he knew it made him happy.
Castiel moved forward so that for the first time in a very long time the men were standing nose to nose, softly gazing into each other’s eyes, still pretending that it didn’t mean anything.
“I’m fond of you too, Dean. But I swear to my father, if you ever hurt Jack, it’ll be the last thing you do.”