Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Contrary to the running commentary he had heard throughout high school, Dean Winchester was not a stupid brute. He stuttered over his Latin, and sort of cringed to himself whenever mental math was involved, and, yes, he did sometimes move his lips when he read silently. But when it came to lore, to patterns, to mechanics, to street smarts, Dean was as sharp as any dagger in his trunk. His intelligence had saved lives, his own and others’, too many times to count by now.

Sometimes, though, the situation called for sheer brute strength, and he had that too, not to mention speed. Right now, Dean was slamming his fist through every obstacle in his way, and outrunning everything chasing him. He could hear the screams around him, the snarls in languages he didn’t know, but he was finally clear, just a hundred yards from his car, and he was going to make it. Those track coaches who had tried to recruit him back at every school he’d ever attended would have just sighed to see him now. Bundle in hand, he sprinted in a blur, slid across the hood like one of the Duke boys, and tore the door open. He didn’t dare look at what was coming behind him. “Voice inside your head says, don’t look back, you can never look back,” the old song groaned through the speakers as he turned the key, and he let out a wicked laugh of relief as he peeled out, leaving gravel flying behind him.

He was nearly two miles down the road before he finally loosened his grip on the bundle and set it down on the floor of the passenger side. He was alarmed to see blood all over it, and that’s when he realized he was having trouble breathing.

It was all right. One of the sons of bitches had managed to strike him on the way out. That was all right. He could drive. It was a sharp pain deep in his ribs, but he could manage. He couldn’t stop. He didn’t dare. He had to keep going. He would drive all night, and then he would find someplace to patch up. He would be fine. So long as he didn’t bleed out, and so long as he could just keep breathing, he would make it.

Dean just had to keep driving, to put distance between himself and them, for as long as he could. What happened to him after didn’t matter. So long as the bundle was safe, away from those monsters, nothing else mattered.

He fumbled a cassette with his less bloody hand, and listened to Metallica pour over the car. He just had to keep breathing as long as it took to get someplace safe. He could do this.

He could save the world…

~~~~

Castiel watched his husband for a long while before finally walking into the room. There would never be a day when he didn’t feel his breath pull in at the sight of the man. Anyone who said that love faded with familiarity had never known a love like his and Sam’s. Castiel was certain he loved the man more every single day.

Nothing was more gratifying in the world than the way Sam’s eyes lit happily whenever Castiel stepped into his line of sight. Sometimes he didn’t even smile, but his gaze always softened in a way that let Castiel know he was happy to see him, every time.

He did smile this time, and Castiel liked that especially. “Hey, babe.”

“What are you reading about?”

Sam hummed and flipped through his professional journal absently. “Nothing you’d be interested in.”

But he could see the intelligent light in Sam’s eyes, and he knew, even if the topic were dry as dust, it was worth it to hear Sam muse about it, simply because it was fascinating to him. So he smiled and sat on the floor at Sam’s feet. “Tell me.”

He gave him a fond gaze, and Castiel knew that whatever came next, he already had earned his reward for asking Sam to teach him. “I’m reading up on new microfilm and microfiche technologies.”

Castiel didn’t know what the difference between the two was, but he doubted that mattered. He probably wasn’t going to understand anything Sam was about to tell him anyway.

“It’s important, more important than most people realize.”

“I know your work is important,” he soothed. “And I know you’re brilliant at it.”

Sam watched him with that grateful smile. “Thank you, sweetheart. I’m just saying, people don’t realize…For example, the New York World was the first newspaper to introduce color supplements. All the paper copies were destroyed once it was digitally archived, right? Except that the microfilm is in black-and-white!” Sam winced. “Errors like that lose valuable moments in human history, because of carelessness. Because the color technology wasn’t there, they used the tech they had at the time, and that was great, but no one seemed to believe it was important to archive an actual paper copy! These days, I could scan it and preserve it the way it was meant to be seen, if only someone had properly saved just one paper copy. It just…” He sighed. “It just kind of breaks an archivist’s heart, you know? Our tech has come so far, and our methods too, but we have no way of reclaiming what we’ve lost forever.”

Castiel felt warmth radiating from him. “Well, please save all the botany books first. Theophrastus wrote hundreds of works on the subject, and only two did anyone bother translating into Latin. The Greek stuff is lost.”

A strange combination of horror and fascination came over Sam’s handsome face. “See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about!”

“I love you, Sam.”

Sam laughed quietly. “Even when I’m ranting about missing manuscripts and microfilm mishaps?”

“Especially then,” he promised. “I’m grateful anytime you’re passionate about something.”

The man sighed contentedly, and leaned back in his chair to gaze down at him. Then his eyes flicked toward the window, and another soft laugh slipped out. “Cas? Are you restless, babe?”

He quirked his eyebrows up at his husband in question.

Sam pointed lazily at the window.

Castiel glanced behind him, and felt warmth fill his cheeks now. “Oh.” He waved two fingers at the window. The sleek black shadow cat met his stare, blinked its bright blue eyes and hurried off the windowsill and across the room toward them. But instead of merging back into Castiel as ordered, it leapt onto Sam’s lap and snuggled into him. Castiel threw his hands up in exasperation.

His lover was still chuckling at him, and he reached down to cuddle the cat in his lap. “Do you need more attention, Cas?” he teased. “You can climb into my lap anytime you please.”

His blush was embarrassingly hot. He scowled at the cat darkly. “Sam, stop petting my manifestation. It doesn’t deserve positive reinforcement.”

Instead, Sam picked up the cat, held it in front of his face, and snuggled into it further. Castiel could feel the thing begin to purr wildly. “Of course it does! Who’s a sweet manifest? Who’s so sweet?”

Castiel’s chest was becoming tight with the way part of his soul insisted upon purring so fiercely. “Sam!”

“He just wants attention, doesn’t he?”

He shivered hard, and glared up at the thing Sam was pushing his face into. “Get down, you gluttonous waste,” he grumbled as he reached up to swat at it.

Sam held the shadow out of reach. “Don’t listen to him,” he soothed. “He’s just jealous because he won’t let himself cuddle the way he obviously wants.”

The witch narrowed his eyes into slits. “Traitor.”

“Cas, you can’t blame Avi because you want affection. He’s a manifestation of your spirit. He wants what you want, but he’s not inhibited in coming to get whatever that is.”

“He’s a pest. I should have formed a frog.”

Sam burst into laughter and scratched Avi’s chin. “No, I like him. He’s perfect.”

“He’s useless.”

“Cas, he’s you!”

He frowned at the cat in irritation. “I never knew I had such a lazy, useless, selfish side.”

The man held Avi against his broad chest protectively. “I adore him. Be nice.”

“It’s embarrassing,” he sulked. “A witch’s familiar should be obedient and helpful.”

“You said he wasn’t a familiar.”

Castiel sighed. He shrugged moodily. “He’s not. A familiar is another being, a spirit tethered to a witch. He’s a manifestation, an avatar, part of my own spirit pulled into a creature form. It’s both more powerful and more obnoxious than a familiar.”

Sam was smirking at him. “Avi is beautiful, and you’re to say only nice things to him. He’s the adorable avatar of my sweet husband.”

Castiel and the cat glowered at one another evenly.

Then they both leapt to their feet when a roaring sound alerted them to their visitor. A whisper of warning in the language of his rose friends hissed through his mind.

“Cas? What’s wrong-“

“Dean’s back. And he’s dangerously damaged.” Castiel raced toward the door. The shadow bounded behind him and jumped up to pounce into his back and merge with him, just as he threw open the door to find the Impala pulling in the drive at a strange angle.

Sam blew past him off the porch. “Dean?”

The car rolled to a stop and the door opened to let the large, bloodied man fall out in a heap onto the gravel.

While Sam dropped to his knees to help, Castiel lifted his hands. He let his power flow out over his land and hummed out a command in a voice even deeper than usual. “Dìon sinn, a charaidean. Thoir rabhadh dhomh mu chunnart,” he ground out. Then, softer, he added in gratitude, “Tha sinn gad ghràdh.”

The willows carried his plea for protection and his message of cherishing his protectors to all the plants nearby, then promptly fell back to sleep when the task was done. As they lay resting, Castiel could feel all the others lift themselves to wakefulness and diligence. A fond warmth radiated from him, and he knew his friends could feel it.

“Thank you,” he whispered. Then he hurried to his fallen brother-in-law. “How is he?”

“He can’t breathe! Cas! Hurry!”

Dean was shaking his head. “Witch,” he choked out. “Witch.”

Castiel’s eyes flashed in anger. “You’re saying a witch did this to you?” He put his hand on Sam’s shoulder and pushed him firmly. “Stand back. Don’t touch him.”

“But, Cas!”

“I’ll heal him, Sam; just don’t touch him.”

Sam stumbled back, and Castiel pressed his hands onto Dean’s chest. He felt the tug of Dean’s life force against his own, something he wished weren’t quite so familiar as it was.

He glared at his brother in a grimace. “Stop getting beat up,” he growled through his teeth.

Dean winced but managed a weak grin. “Do it…just to…annoy you…” he shot back.

The healing took far longer than it should have. This magic was strange, like nothing Castiel had ever encountered before. At last, after digging through the tangles of hexing, he managed to figure out just which thread to pull to unravel the curse.

Dean gasped in his breath in heart-wrenching relief. “Thanks,” he coughed. “Thank you.”

Castiel blew out his cheeks and sat hard on the ground beside him. “Who the hell did you piss off?” he demanded.

Sam put a hand on each man’s shoulder. “Are you okay?” He was asking them both.

Dean nodded, and took in another deep breath, just because he finally could. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

Castiel nodded shakily, but said nothing.

“Drove two hundred miles like that,” he wheezed. “Jesus.”

Sam stared at him. “You-you drove two hundred miles? Like that?”

“I couldn’t stop. Had to get it as far away as possible. Figured if it killed me, at least somebody would find the car, and it would be okay. Somebody would take care of it. Had to get it as far as I could before I died.”

“It? Dean, what in the world could be so important that you-“

Castiel flinched suddenly, and allowed his avatar to leap out to provide him an extra set of eyes. “What is that? Dean? What is that?” A strange panic was building inside him. Something was near, something with a terrible, wicked power bubbling inside it. It was like a steam whistle sounding inside his soul, screaming at an ever higher pitch. “Dean?” He turned back to his friend. “What the hell did you bring to my home?”

Avi began hissing the moment the bundle was retrieved.

Sam glanced down at the cat, and up at the blankets in Dean’s hands. “Dean? What is that?”

The bundle began to cry, and Castiel’s heart dropped. That horrible power, that achingly hungry, wicked power, was coming from…

“A baby?” Sam whispered.

Avi arched his back and hissed, and put himself between the child and Sam angrily.

Dean shrugged sheepishly. Sweat and blood was dried on his forehead and cheek, and he looked more exhausted than Castiel had ever seen him. But he smiled anyway. “Surprise?”

Chapter Text

The cat would not move from its perch, ready to leap down and fight savagely in protection of its favorite person. It did not like how close to the child Sam was.

But Dean’s low voice was rumbling, drawing Avi’s attention.

“No, she definitely got me. No question.”

Sam was shaking his head. “I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t she kill you? Why just close your airway enough to make you miserable but not kill you?”

“The child,” Castiel murmured.

Avi glanced at him sidelong, then went back to staring at the child in Dean’s grasp without blinking.

“Cas?” Sam breathed.

“It protects you somehow,” Castiel ground out in a voice even deeper than usual. “Because you protected it, it protects you. It didn’t let you die, because you were guarding it.”

Sam was shaking his head. “I don’t understand,” he said again. “How could a baby possibly protect him? And-and why is Avi so upset about it? Cas?”

Two sets of blue eyes were frowning at the baby. “I can feel horrible power from the child, Sam. It’s like nothing I’ve ever…”

That wasn’t true. Not quite. When Castiel’s voice faded off, Avi narrowed his eyes. The cat could feel Castiel remembering. The child’s powers were unlike anything the witch had ever sensed before…except for that one time Sam had come into possession of tainted power.

“It’s evil, Sam.”

Sam frowned at him. He stepped forward and took hold of the child from Dean’s arms. “Cas!”

Avi’s heart flew into a panic, and he let loose a screaming hiss.

Sam pulled the infant far out of reach in alarm. “Cas! Stop! It’s a baby!”

Avi’s insistent growl belied the witch’s calm exterior. Castiel shook his head. “It’s not just a baby! Sam, get away from it!”

“You said you thought he protected me,” Dean argued. “If that’s true-“

Avi hissed again, and began to pace in agitation. It was bad enough that Dean had been in contact with the little monster. It tore at the shadow cat’s heart that Sam was holding it now! Avi knew he couldn’t attack Sam, but how else could he make the man drop the evil thing? How could he protect Sam if he wouldn’t let go?

Sam was frowning at the cat stalking around him. “Cas? I’ve never seen Avi like this before. What’s wrong with you?”

Dean glared at the cat. “That thing creeps me out.”

Avi put his back up angrily. For once, Castiel seemed to agree. “You find my avatar creepy, but in the meantime, you’re cuddling with a creature that is radiating wicked energy!”

“He’s not wicked! And he’s not a creature!” Dean growled. “He’s a baby!”

Sam looked from one of them to the other, then sighed down at the child. “He’s…not just a baby.”

“What?” Dean demanded. “Just because the cat’s tail is twice the usual size, you’re going to assume there’s something wrong with-“

“No, Dean. Look. On his arm. I’ve seen that mark before.”

Both Dean and Castiel leaned in to see.

Dean flinched. “Jesus. They branded the poor thing.” He reached in to gently touch the puffy red mark on the baby’s arm.

Castiel frowned up at Sam. “What is it?”

Even the child and the cat turned to stare at Sam curiously.

Sam sighed. “It…Cas, it’s not just any mark. It’s The Mark. The Mark of the Beast. The Mark of Cain.”

His brother and lover stumbled backward in shock.

But Sam simply held the child tight against his chest. “He’s been branded with the mark of the devil. That’s the evil you feel, Cas. It’s not from the baby himself. It’s from whatever they were trying to do to him, whatever Dean saved him from.”

Dean nodded slowly. “I tracked the coven for weeks. They moved around, and they were always just a step ahead of me. I always got there just hours, sometimes just minutes, too late. They killed a lot of people, Sammy. This little guy was the only one I could save. And if Cas is right, he somehow kept me alive till I could get to you.”

Avi locked eyes with the witch. It was a strange feeling when the same being stared into its own gaze. It always allowed for a deeper understanding of the witch’s own heart. The man sighed. “You’re right,” he said at last. “It isn’t the child that I feel. It must be the ritual they performed on him. He…he isn’t malignant.”

Sam frowned and pulled the child in even tighter. “Of course he isn’t! Cas, he’s a baby! How could he possibly be evil?”

Avi jumped silently up onto the mantle above the fireplace for a better view of the little beast.

“Cas? Avi isn’t going to try to hurt him, is he?”

Castiel sighed in frustration. “No, of course not. Not unless it tries to hurt you.”

“He, Cas. It’s a kid.”

Dean lifted his hands. “Look. I gotta eat something. And I could stand to wash all the blood off me.”

Finally, Castiel rolled his eyes and turned to his brother-in-law. “Why is it that you only visit us when you’re covered in blood and knocking at Death’s door?”

The man shrugged. “Mostly because I’m always covered in blood and knocking at Death’s door. If I didn’t visit while covered in blood, I’d never visit at all.” He smiled a little. “Thanks again for the heal, man. Maybe it wouldn’t have killed me, but I sure as hell felt like it.”

“It would have killed you the moment you were separated from the baby,” Castiel snapped. “The child was the only thing keeping you alive. So go shower, and eat, but then I want to know who the hell you pissed off. Because that was some very potent magic I ripped out of you. And someone went to a great deal of trouble to turn this child into some sort of weapon. I can’t believe they’re just going to let all that effort go.”

Sam frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

“The spellwork I sense in this child would have come at enormous price to its casters, Sam. Whoever it is will not cut their losses and move on from this. They’ll be coming for him.”

Avi met Castiel’s eyes again, and they shared a sigh.

“Dean? Its parents?”

Dean cringed. “His mother is dead. Sacrificed. And his father…I think he’s part of the coven. The way they talked about him…I think he might be their leader.”

Avi narrowed his gaze. He gave a small, short growl in Dean’s direction.

Castiel lifted an eyebrow. “Dean? What aren’t you telling us?”

His brother-in-law glanced warily at the cat before sighing. “The witches. They think…”

“Dean?”

The large man cleared his throat. “They think they’re raising Lucifer with this kid. The father. They think it’s Lucifer himself. And they think the kid will be the key to him destroying the earth.”

Avi watched Sam’s lips part in shock. “You mean…”

“Because they can’t find the kid they wanted, they made their own.”

Castiel stepped back and stared. “This is all about Sam. Because I’ve hidden Sam from them, because he rejected the power, killed Azazel.”

Dean took a deep breath, and when he spoke, it was to his brother. “When you did that research a few months ago, found that stuff about the prophecy, figured out what they had in mind for you, I put my ear to the ground. I couldn’t believe that the demons would just give up. And they didn’t. They’ve had witches at work, and they’ve made a replacement. They can’t have you. So they made…him.”

Avi watched Sam stare into the eyes of the infant. He badly wished Sam would put it down and walk away from it.

“He’s supposed to bring on the Apocalypse. And-and he wouldn’t have any chance at resisting it like I did.”

“You see why I had to bring him here. It was either that or…”

“Or kill him,” Castiel sighed.

Dean shrugged. His face was pulled into a cringe. “I told myself I might have to. Tried to prepare for that. In the end, I just fought my way in and grabbed him and ran. I had to take the chance. Look at him. I couldn’t just kill him.”

Castiel closed his eyes. “And what are we supposed to do, Dean?”

“Hide him. Like you hide Sam. Just till I can figure out what else we can do. There has to be some way to neutralize what they did to him, so they won’t want him anymore. Right? And-and also so he won’t grow up to raise the freaking Devil? Huh?” He shrugged with one shoulder and smirked. “Okay, so I hadn’t really thought any further than just getting him here.”

The cat gave him a sneer.

Sam looked up at last. “Cas? You’ll hide him.”

“Sam-“

“Castiel.” His voice was quiet but firm. “You’ll hide him.”

The witch heaved a great sigh, and nodded. “I’ll hide him. Come, Avi. We have work to do.” At the doorway to the living room, he stopped and looked back with a scowl. “Don’t bleed on the furniture,” he grumbled at Dean.

Behind them, Avi could hear Dean muttering about taking a shower. Then, when the large man left, the shadow cat glanced back to find Sam looking down at the child with soft eyes. He stayed to listen.

“It’s all right, kiddo,” his favorite person whispered. “I’m so sorry about what they did to you. But my brother is the strongest fighter in the world, and Cas is the most powerful witch-a good one, not like those others who hurt you. And me…I’m going to figure out what they did and how to reverse it. I promise. We’re going to keep you safe, little guy.”

Avi turned and padded after Castiel. The door had closed, so he phased through it silently, and emerged on the other side to find the witch staring out at his land with a look of desperation on his face.

“They won’t accept him,” Castiel murmured to him. “He’s not like Sam. They knew Sam. They accepted him because I asked them to, and because they could feel his goodness. Avi, I don’t know this child, and they’ll sense that. They’ll also sense the wickedness you and I know is there. How can I convince our friends to watch over and hide something I don’t even trust myself?”

Avi thought for a moment, then he gave a soft trill. His witch glanced down at him.

“You think it’ll work?”

The cat tipped its head to the side in a shrug.

Castiel smiled down at him. He nodded. “All right. It’s worth trying.” He opened the door again and called to Sam. “Bring him out here.”

Avi’s favorite person took the few long strides to join them on the porch. “What is it?”

Castiel waved two fingers at Avi. “Go.”

The cat leapt at Sam, who flinched and turned, but the manifestation was faster. It phased to merge with the child, as it had only ever done with Castiel himself before.

“What? Cas, what are you doing? What-“

The witch winced with discomfort. “Wait, Sam. It’s all right, I promise.”

“What is Avi doing to him?”

“He’s merged with him as he’s only ever meant to do with me.”

“And what will that do to the baby?” Sam demanded.

“He’s fine, Sam! Please. This is not an easy…” He sighed with relief. “Jack. His name is Jack. Hello, Jack.”

Sam held the child protectively. “Cas?”

“He’s housing part of my soul right now, Sam. Our friends will accept him now. My spirit will mask the darkness they would surely feel from him. Let me introduce him now. I cannot hold this merge for long. The land must be presented with him now, before Avi is forced to return.”

“You’re tricking the land into believing he’s yours,” Sam breathed.

“As far as I can tell,” Castiel sighed, “he is ours. If you’re insisting that I hide him, Sam, he is our responsibility. So yes. I’m using Avi to express that to the land. This child is ours to protect.”

Avi could hear them both. He was a mystical creature, after all. But he could also hear the child. There were no clear words coming from the baby’s thoughts. All he was getting from him were colors. But he could hear what must be memories. Mostly a woman’s voice, speaking with incredible emotion, as though smiling through great pain, repeating in the infant’s mind. “Jack? I’m your Mom.”

The cat felt a sudden, growing sympathy for the young thing, and he curled himself around his soul protectively from inside. Castiel and Sam were claiming this thing as their own, at least for the time being. Avi would watch over it, just as they did. For now.

Castiel smiled with relief. “I can feel him, Sam,” he murmured. “And you’re right, my love. There’s nothing inherently evil about him. There is great, horrible power which has been seeded inside him, but he’s innocent.”

“Of course he is,” Sam was responding. “He can be good.”

Avi curled in harder against the baby’s soul, trying to imbue it with that sentiment. He could be good. He could be good. Avi would help him. Castiel and Dean would help him. And most of all, sweet, quiet Sam would help him. Jack could be good.

He heard Castiel speaking softly to his roses, alternating between languages to be sure his words and requests were clear, and always respectful.

“Please, my friends, let me introduce you to a new soul. He is mine and Sam’s. He is my new cutting. You can feel that he is part of me.”

The roses bristled in surprise and alarm. They could feel the strange power emanating from the child Castiel presented to them.

“I know,” the witch acknowledged. “He’s been hurt, by powerful witches. And you can feel the damage they’ve done. But he is my cutting; I won’t abandon him, and you must protect him as you do me and Sam. Please, my friends. Can you feel that he’s mine to defend? Will you shelter him as you do us?”

Sam’s voice was shaky. “Is it all right? Will they accept him?”

“I need you to hide him like you do for Sam. My powers can protect Sam when we are away from this place, but I can’t do it alone. I would never be able to rest if I didn’t have your help when we’re home. This is our sanctuary, my friends, where I can have peace without worrying constantly for my lover. I’m so grateful to you for hiding him. Please, will you do the same for my cutting? So long as he’s in this place, will you conceal him from any who would do him harm? Obscure him from those who seek him?”

Avi listened anxiously. He felt some relief when the roses responded that they would do as Castiel asked. Then he heard their request as well.

Castiel glanced at Sam. “Yes. Yes, of course. As soon as we can figure out how, we will countervail the evil effect the other witches infused him with. We will.”

Avi heard the whisper of the roses. “Then we will protect your cutting as we would you and your lover. We sense a good spirit. It feels like you, and you are always worthy of our protection, just as you will always protect us, Droseraceae.”

The cat could feel Castiel’s relief and his gratitude. “Thank you, my friends. Please spread the message as far as you are able. Any who love me must love my lover and my cutting.” He smirked. “And the one who grew from the same cutting as Sam.”

“The noisy one,” the roses sighed.

“Yes,” Castiel snickered. “Protect the noisy one as well. He is important to me. He is my brother.”

“You ask a lot, Droseraceae,” the roses muttered in their language.

“And I’m grateful,” he chuckled wearily. He turned to Sam and shrugged.

“The noisy one?” he said dryly.

“The translations are sometimes inexact,” he responded vaguely. “The point is that the land has agreed to accept you, Dean and Jack, because you’re my family, and because they sense goodness in all of you. They ask only that we do what we can to neutralize the dark magic that’s been tangled up in Jack’s soul.”

Sam nodded. “Please tell Avi I said thank you.”

Castiel smiled. “He can hear you.”

“Does he understand?”

Avi purred gently, wrapped around the child’s soul, and felt the baby drift away to sleep against Sam’s good heart. He understood.

Chapter Text

If it could be found in a book, Sam would find it. No one doubted that. That wasn’t the problem.

And, weirdly, the problem was seeming less and less like a problem as hours wore on.

A soft, sighing chuckle slipped from Sam’s lips. “Jack, you’ve got to let me study. Okay?” He reached for the squirming baby, who was reaching for his attention with both little arms. “You’re distracting me,” he murmured with such gentle fondness that it was clear there was no real problem here at all.

He could feel Avi’s presence nearby, but the shadow cat slept for once. Castiel was exhausted after the stunt he had pulled earlier, not to mention all the effort it had taken to heal Dean. Ordinarily, Avi would still be stalking about the house silently, or venturing through the walls to converse with the land and plants beyond. Not tonight. His witch was too tired, and even this small part of his spirit had to sleep as well. But it insisted upon sleeping where it could hear Sam, in case Castiel needed to be alerted to danger. Avi was always watching over his person. Sam found it comforting.

Jack whimpered up at Sam, who gave in and lifted him into his arms from the wicker basket padded with towels and covered in a blanket, which they were using as a bassinet. The child quieted happily as soon as he was against Sam’s chest.

“Not hungry, then,” Sam whispered. “Just lonely. It’s okay. I’ve got you. But the way you keep distracting me from my research, it’s a problem, little guy.”

It was no problem. Sam adored it.

“You know, I never wanted kids. Kind of thought that made me a little bit broken, you know? There’s a lot about me that seems…My whole life, I’ve had to work to convince myself that there’s nothing wrong with me. That I’m not damaged somehow. For one thing, I’m gay. You don’t know what that means, but anyway, there’s nothing wrong with it. It’s just how I’m wired, and it’s actually a good thing, because it’s part of what makes me fit so well with Cas. You know? But before I met Cas, I sometimes felt like…Anyway, I never wanted kids either. Maybe it was my own complicated relationship with my dad. I don’t know.”

The child’s eyes slid closed slowly as he listened to the gentle voice.

“But it was just another thing about me that made me feel…damaged. And then I learned about the whole Lucifer thing, and how could I not feel like a freak then, right? But I beat it.”

Temporarily. He had always known it wasn’t over. Dean had kept searching, but so had Sam. Sam had researched relentlessly since that experience with Azazel. He had seen into the future, enough to know they weren’t done. There was still work to do.

“But now I look at you, and I feel like something important has come into my life, something part of me has been waiting for. Do you think so? Or is it just our connection through this nasty cult? I think it’s more than that, don’t you?”

The child’s face was blanketed in a sheen of peace. Jack seemed entirely safe in Sam’s arms. It was a feeling like no other, this little thing trusting him so completely.

“Did I ever trust anyone like this? My mom, before she died? My dad?” He hoped so, but it was hard to imagine. Then he smiled a little. “Dean, maybe. Dad said when I took my first step, it was straight toward Dean. Of course, I don’t remember that, but it rings so true. I’m so glad he’s back in my life after so long. It took a demon hunt to bring him back into my life. It took a demon hunting me. But he’ll always be my brother. And what we’re going through now? I can’t do this without my brother. I don’t…I don’t want to do this without my brother. I’m glad I have him back, and I’m glad he brought you here. He brought you to me, because he knew Cas would protect you, and he knew I would care for you. That’s another kind of trust, right? He saves the day, and we hold tight to the thing he saved. He knew we would. He said he just kept thinking he had to get you to Sam and Cas.”

Jack took hold of his finger sleepily.

Sam sighed. “I’m proud of that,” he whispered. “That no matter what is wrong with me, my brother still trusts me with something so important. Something so precious, so special. I might be broken in a hundred ways, but he knows me at my worst, and he still thinks I’m one of the two people in the world he can trust. That’s got to mean something. Dean trusts me. And Cas loves me.”

Sam nodded slowly, and turned back to his research on the table.

“Don’t worry, kiddo. I’m going to prove I’m worthy of it. All of it. Dean’s trust, Castiel’s love, and the way you feel safe enough to fall asleep in my arms. I’ll prove it. I’m going to save you, Jack.”

He held the child close with one large hand while he flipped through the pages of the old book with the other. When the dawn came up around them hours later, Avi was still asleep on the windowsill beside him.

~~~

Castiel yawned and stretched. He could feel that Sam had never come to bed. He blinked a little into the brightening room. “Sam?” he croaked in a voice too deep with sleep even to be understood. He cleared his throat and pushed himself to sit up.

A small bird sat on the corner of his bed.

He sucked in his breath through his teeth, then sighed it out. “Oh,” he muttered stupidly.

The bird tilted her head at him. “You sleep.”

He couldn’t help rolling his eyes and yawning again, so wide that his jaw popped. He dragged his hand down his face. “I’m a human,” he reminded the spirit dryly. It was too early for any sort of eloquent spirit-speak. English was as good as it would get right now. She could take it or leave it.

It was difficult to tell, but he thought maybe she was determining whether to put up with his lack of respect. At last, she gave a tiny shrug, and switched to an awkward use of his preferred language. In the time she had known him, he had earned the right, after all. “You have a cutting.”

He snorted. Some spirits liked to dance, sometimes literally, around a subject, and some liked to dive right in. “I do,” he responded. His brain was clearing a little, and he allowed trickles of his magic to gently put up a wary barrier between them. Better that he didn’t reveal too much.

She smirked through her beak. “Guilt, Droseraceae? You?”

“No guilt, my friend. Only caution. You of all spirits would not advise me against that.”

“Not at all. Caution keeps one alive in the spirit world, as you may know. Here too, perhaps.”

“Here too,” he agreed.

“Keep your secrets, Witch. I’m here to be certain this cutting of yours is of a like feather.”

“As I am not a plant, and nor are you a bird, I find the mixing of metaphors disappointing.”

This smirk showed a little bit of rare true humor. “Hm. You know what I’m asking.”

“Jack is an infant. He doesn’t have any inclinations toward anything right now, neither good, nor evil, nor anything else anyone is worried about.”

“He’s powerful.”

Castiel lowered his gaze, then forced himself to raise it again to look evenly into her stare. “Perhaps he is,” he admitted. “But that is no business of the spirits at this time. He is no threat to anyone, let alone you.”

His sometimes ally gave him a sneer. “At the time which it becomes our business, Droseraceae, you’ll account for what you’ve brought into the world. So see that his feathers are like yours, or we’ll pluck him right up like a weed, and you along with him.”

The witch refused to allow the stinging splash of fear show on his face or be felt in his ambient power. He smiled instead. “I love weeds, Dionaea. They’re strong. They’re survivors. And any weed of mine will be quite capable of defending himself, just as you know I am.”

“We shall see when he goes before a tribunal at the Court of Seelie,” she chirped back sharply.

Castiel frowned at last. “A tribunal! At the Court! Why would they-“

“A cutting from the great Droseraceae? Did you think I would be the only spirit invested in that outcome? Teach it to be good, if it is going to be clever, Castiel. Or teach it to be good only. Your kind cannot be trusted with power if it is not ruled by goodness. Let the Court only see it become dark instead, and it will destroy it rather than risk it.”

“You have no right to judge my child,” he snarled.

“The Court has jurisdiction over your entire plane of existence, Castiel, not to mention mine. So heed me. Teach it to be good or this world will mourn you both. You are judged by what you make, Droseraceae. You know that.”

“Yes,” he breathed. “I know. I will. Thank you, Dionaea. I take this as a gentle warning and advice from a friend. I hope to serve you in a similar way one day.”

Her hard gaze softened a little. “You have always served our kind with grace, Witch. See that your cutting does the same, and you’ll have nothing to worry about.”

Castiel was nodding to her, when he saw a minuscule thread slither from under one of her talons. It writhed onto the bed. He pursed his lips. “A spy, friend?” he said, letting his voice fall firmly on the last word.

She gave him a shrug of her wings. “A messenger. Nothing can reach me so fast as my snakes, and traveling by roses becomes tiresome. Should you need to send a message, Nathair will let me know.”

“Hm. Your welcome grows thin, Dionaea.”

“I wasn’t invited,” she reminded him in a teasing voice. With that, she shuddered and vanished from his sight.

He sighed and lifted the smallest snake he had ever seen to stare at it. Even it seemed to smirk at him. “You’ll behave yourself on this plane,” he warned it. “If I find out you haven’t, I won’t bother with magic. I’ll just let Avi eat you.”

It stuck out a very small tongue at him.

Chapter Text

Dean was coughing again. Every time they heard him through the guest room door, baby Jack gave an uncomfortable squirm and whimper. Avi was the first to notice the connection.

The shadow cat hadn’t bothered with its corporeal form all morning, another sign that Castiel was unusually fatigued. It slithered silently between Sam’s feet and stared with intensity at the closed guest room door, then glanced at Jack in concern, every time the coughing started up again. At last, the avatar gave a sort of chirping meow to alert Sam to the situation.

Sam was reaching down to try to pet the shadow, when Castiel stumbled out of the master bedroom.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded hoarsely.

His husband stared at him. “Cas? Are you okay?”

The witch put his hand through his wild, wayward hair, and stood up a little straighter. In the same moment, the shadow cat became a little more substantial. “Of course I’m okay. What’s wrong out here?”

The coughing began again, and Avi didn’t even bother looking at the guest room this time. This time, he stared at Jack in anticipation, until he inevitably whined again. Then the cat echoed the whine softly.

Castiel’s eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong with the child?”

Sam looked down at the infant in the basket. “Nothing. He’s fine. He ate less than an hour ago. He’s fine.”

They listened to Dean cough, and watched Jack squirm. Avi vocalized again. Castiel frowned. “No, he’s not.”

“What?” Sam shrugged. “He’s fine!”

Avi leapt up onto the table and stepped right into the basket with the child.

“Avi, stop. You don’t fit in there with-“

Blue eyes flicked toward him, and then the cat seemed to shrink back to its shadow form, so that he took up no more space than a whisper.

Sam smirked at him. “Touché.”

The shadow curled around the baby, who seemed comforted immediately.

“It’s Dean,” Castiel murmured. “Jack is reacting to Dean’s ailment.”

All humor left Sam in an instant. “But he was fine. You healed him. He’s fine, isn’t he?”

Castiel began to answer, but Sam was already heading for the guest room.

“Dean?” he called. “You okay in there?” When there wasn’t an answer, he felt his heart beginning to race. “Dean? I’m coming in!”

Upon throwing open the door, he found himself staring down at his older brother, soaked in sweat, coughing pitifully on the bed. “Sammy?” he murmured.

“Dean!” He rushed to his side. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Sick,” he groaned. Then he could manage nothing but weak coughing.

“He’s feverish,” Castiel’s deep voice mumbled behind him.

“Obviously!” Sam put one knee on the bed and reached out to place a hand on Dean’s forehead.

The older man’s own hand snapped up and grabbed hold of Sam’s wrist without mercy. “Get away from me,” he growled. Then the grip loosened, and fell apart entirely, as Dean’s eyes rolled back, and his whole body seemed to lose strength all at once.

Sam stared down at him. “Cas?”

His husband took a deep breath. “Back up, Sam. There’s witchcraft here. Back up. Don’t touch him.”

“But-“

“Sam!” Castiel barked.

He had never heard his husband sound quite so urgent, nearly angry. He stood away from the bed quickly. “Cas, what’s wrong with him? I thought you healed him of the witch’s spell!”

“I thought I had. No-Dammit, Sam, I said stay away from him!”

He frowned sharply at Castiel. “This is my brother. And you don’t tell me what to do.”

“In this case, I will,” he snapped back. “I’m going to help your brother, but I won’t have the strength to heal you both! Do you want me to have to choose?”

Sam’s mouth was running dry. “N-no. No, of course not. Help him. I won’t go near him.”

“Or Jack.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

“Avi will watch over the child, Sam, but you must not touch him while I’m healing Dean. Neither of them, nor even Avi. Do you understand?”

“Cas-“

The witch had been watching Dean take shallow, coughing breaths, but now he whirled on his husband. “Do you understand?”

Sam tried to swallow. “Yes. Yes, please just…help him.”

Castiel let his eyes narrow, then he turned back to the feverish man on the bed. “Where is it?” he muttered. Then, in a mad, desperate tone rising in volume, “Where is it?”

“Where is what?” Sam felt his throat tightening.

Jack gave a panicky whine suddenly, and Sam whirled toward the sound.

“Jack?”

“Sam, don’t.”

“He’s afraid!”

Castiel gave him an odd snarl. “He should be. Don’t touch him.”

His heart pounded in his chest, and he felt torn into pieces of himself. His brother was sick, maybe hurt. His mild-mannered lover was inexplicably angry. And the child he had promised to protect was crying out to him.

Blue eyes flashed with power for an instant. “There. I see it. I can save him.”

“Which one?” Sam shouted hoarsely.

“Your brother.”

Sam’s stomach turned, as his instincts screamed to him that Castiel somehow meant that he was choosing to save Dean to the detriment of Jack. Somehow, Dean’s gain would be the infant’s loss. Without a thought, he bolted out the bedroom door and scooped Jack up into his arms to hold him against his chest.

Sharp pain flushed through him, like a roar of fire through his sinuses. It reminded him immediately of being possessed by Azazel, and he screamed. That is, he opened his mouth to scream, but it was silent. The flames of pain washed over his whole body, and then it was all gone, except the heat.

The fever.

Sam had dropped to the ground, still curled protectively around the baby. He groaned weakly and opened his eyes, which had clenched closed.

On the counter stood Avi, looking entirely horrified, staring down at him with its fur on end.

“What happened? Where’s Sam?” Dean was groaning from the adjacent room.

“It’s all right,” Sam croaked.

“It’s not all right!” Castiel was shouting. He stormed out of the bedroom to stare at Sam with the same expression of horror his avatar was wearing. “What have you done?”

Sam shook his head. “I protected him. He…he needed someone.”

“He was feeding from Dean’s life force, Sam! I was untangling them! To save Dean!”

“And what about him?” Sam shouted back. He stumbled to his feet, still holding the child. “He needed someone! He needs me!”

Castiel and Avi’s faces fell with heartbreak.

Dean tripped into the room, just as off-balance as his brother. “What’s going on?” he roared.

The witch was shaking his head. “Sam, I…I don’t know if I can reverse this! With Dean, it wasn’t willing, so I could have separated them. But-“

“But I’m willing,” Sam interrupted. “He will get what he needs from me. Dean’s safe now?”

The witch nodded sadly. “Yes. Yes, he’s safe.”

“Good. Then everything is okay.”

Dean looked from one of them to the other and back. “Cas…won’t he get sick too? If-if the little guy somehow was leeching off me, doesn’t that mean Sam will get sick now?”

Sam shook his head. “I’m willing,” he repeated, and he looked hard at his husband.

“Cas?” Dean demanded.

The witch sighed. “Sam has been an avid student,” he whispered. “I’m impressed, my love.”

He took a deep breath and smiled. His strength was returning to him. “I know how magic works now, Dean. I’ve studied everything I can find over the past year, and everything Cas would teach me. Magic is all about intention and will. If Jack was taking what he needed from you without you knowing, all I had to do was open myself up to him. You’ll be safe now. I’ve got him. I’ve got him, Dean. My will is strong, and his intentions are…”

Castiel watched him. “Good?” he finished for him quietly. “Do we know that for sure?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sam said. “My intentions are good. I don’t think he’s doing any of this with any intention at all. It’s instinct. And so is my need to protect him.”

Dean looked at Castiel. “Well? This nonsense mean something to you, hippie?”

Castiel sent him a sideways smirk, without taking his eyes off Sam and the child. “Instinct. Intention. Will. Connection to the world. And conceit. That’s what a witch relies on. What Sam lacks in connection to the natural world, he makes up for in stubborn arrogance that he’s always right.”

“Is he right this time?”

The man shrugged. “Who knows? He’s right until he’s very wrong. That will depend greatly on Jack. Is he doing this without meaning to, as Sam is suggesting? Does he not understand that he was hurting you by anchoring himself to you and pulling from you what he needed to gain in strength?”

“He’s a baby, Cas.”

“He’s the most powerful human I’ve ever encountered, Sam,” Castiel snapped back. “And you may have read quite a few books about magic, but you have none of your own, and I would appreciate it if you one day listened to the one person in your life who both knows how to wield magic and also cares about your safety!”

Sam looked down at the child finally, who was looking up at him in curious silence. “I have to protect him, Cas. They made him because of me. Because they couldn’t have me.”

Dean sighed now too. “Yeah. And we don’t know yet what exactly they made him out of, Sammy. Cas says he can feel how powerful he is. I can feel now just how tight he was holding me around my throat. I thought it was all the witches who were chasing me. It wasn’t. A lot of that pain came from him. I don’t know, man. Maybe they did something to him we aren’t going to be able to fix.”

“He’s not bad!” Sam turned on Castiel. “You said it yourself!”

The witch nodded quickly. “I know. But, Sam, what I was basing that on was Jack’s own mind. He has an incredible sense of self for someone who can’t even sit upright yet. I don’t know any babies personally, but I’m guessing that’s unusual.”

“His ability to leech my freaking life force from a room away is pretty damn unusual.”

“You were unwilling. It’s different.”

“I was unknowing!” Dean corrected. “I didn’t know what he was doing to me till it was almost too late. Then you tried to touch me, and I was afraid he’d latch on to you too. Looks like he has.”

“And I’m willing. Just like Cas was willing to share his life with you to heal you! That means it can’t hurt me!”

Castiel frowned deeply. “No, Sam. That means you both won’t wither and die. It doesn’t mean you won’t hurt. Just like when I heal Dean, you’ve got to know when to let go and let yourself heal.”

“He’s not hurt. So he shouldn’t need much. He’s just scared.”

“He’s not healing from you, Sam. He’s growing stronger.”

He stood tall and held the baby even closer. “Good. He’ll need it if what I think is coming finally gets here.”

Dean’s eyes went cold. “What’s coming for him?”

Avi moved closer to Castiel and watched them all quietly.

Sam licked his lips. “They’re called Nihil. I think they’re what made Jack.”

“The Nothing,” Castiel whispered.

The shadow cat shivered slightly.

Dean cleared his throat. “Yeah? Okay, professor. So how do I kill Nothing?”