Chapter Text
Cas felt a shiver run down his spine as Dean’s lips ghosted over the back of his neck. The man’s fingers were still curled around the angel’s bare hip, no longer bruisingly tight as they had been minutes before while Dean had pounded into him in increasingly erratic thrusts. Cas rolled over to face the man, taking in the slight flush in Dean’s cheeks and the soft, sleepy look in his forest-green eyes. Cas didn’t resist as Dean dragged him in for a slow, lazy kiss before tucking himself against Cas’ chest, their arms wrapped around each other.
“Missed you,” he murmured, his fingers tracing circles against Cas’ hip. “Don’ like it when you’re out there with Crowley.”
“I can take care of myself,” Cas assured him, kissing the top of his head.
“Not the point,” Dean grumbled back before wrapping his arms around Cas’ waist and pulling them flush against each other. “You should be here.”
Cas’ heart warmed at the sleepy declaration. Dean didn’t express much in words to him, often relying more on his actions, so when he did manage to say something that hinted at how deep his affection for Cas ran, the angel always treasured it.
They had been ‘hooking up’ (as Dean would say) since they rescued Sam from the British Men of Letters and, so far, had kept it a secret. Although neither of them had discussed it, Cas understood that Dean was under a lot of pressure and didn’t want to add to his stress by forcing him to tell others about their relationship. And, with Cas trying to track down Lucifer and Dean trying to reconnect with his mother while still hunting, they hadn’t yet had time to really talk about what kind of relationship they were in.
Dean always seemed to sleep more peacefully in Cas’ arms, so Cas stayed in bed with him until he began to stir around mid-morning. He groaned and rolled over onto his back, blinking sleep out of his eyes. Cas chuckled and kissed the man’s shoulder.
“Good morning,” he said.
Dean replied with a grunt. “Wha’s the time?” he asked.
“10:03,” Cas said. “We should probably get up. I imagine Sam’s already awake.”
“Yeah, probably doin’ research. Nerd.” Dean cuddled closer to Cas.
They stayed in bed for another ten minutes, both silent and still, before Dean sighed and pulled himself away from Cas and began to pick through the clothes strewn across the floor, throwing the things that belonged to Cas back towards the bed while he pulled his own stuff back on. Cas watched him with a small smile on his face, admiring the man’s body, remembering when he pulled him out of Hell and reconstructed him, piece by piece. Dean glanced back and grinned when he caught Cas looking.
“Checking out the merchandise?” he asked, giving his hips a slight wiggle, drawing Cas’ eyes downwards.
“Of course,” Cas said. “You’re a very beautiful man, Dean.”
The angel had to fight to hide his smile as Dean’s face reddened.
“I— You—” he spluttered. “Cas, you don’t— You can’t just call a man beautiful!”
“What word would you prefer?” Cas asked seriously. “Gorgeous? Radiant? Resplendent?”
Dean’s blush grew even more pronounced as he continued to protest. The only time Cas could compliment him without him protesting was when they were in the middle of sex when Dean was too overwhelmed to muster the spare energy necessary to contradict the words Cas whispered to him.
Cas stood up, uncaring about his state of undress, walked over to Dean, and kissed him, effectively shutting him up. It never took the man long to melt into Cas, his eyes falling shut in bliss. Dean was the one to end the kiss but held on for a bit longer, his hands on either side of Cas’ face. He kept his eyes shut, rubbing his thumbs against Cas’ skin. For a second, it seemed as if he was going to say something. But then, the moment passed, and Dean pulled away.
“I’m gonna…” He jabbed his thumb towards the door. “Sam’ll probably be in the library. I’ll go help him.”
“Of course,” Cas said, swallowing his disappointment. “I’ll be out soon.”
Dean nodded. He turned towards the door and pulled it open, but hesitated for a second in the doorway, looking over his shoulder at Cas. Their eyes met for a few seconds before Dean left the room, pulling the door shut behind him and leaving Cas alone.
Cas took his time getting dressed, figuring that Dean wouldn’t want them to arrive too soon after each other and raise Sam’s suspicions. He also took the time to make Dean’s bed and, after he left the room, decided to go to the kitchen to make the brothers some coffee. Both of them had been working too hard for too long and could probably do with a stimulant to keep them going.
Angel radio had been quiet recently. Cas suspected that they were deliberately shutting him out. He was surprised when he felt the hum of chatter in the back of his mind rise in volume slightly for the first time in ages but ignored it in favour of focusing on the task at hand. Once he was done making the coffee, he walked towards the library, where he could sense the brothers’ souls as they worked quietly.
He had made it as far as the war room before the rising volume of angel radio became too much. The two cups in his hands shattered on the floor as he lost his grip on them. He stumbled forward, supporting himself on the map table. The sound rose in a crescendo of outrage, shock, and panic. In the confusion, he couldn’t make out what all the alarm was about.
“Cas? Hey!” He could hear footsteps coming towards him, and then familiar hands were touching him, supporting him.
“Something’s happened, something’s…” Cas strained himself to make sense of the chaos. “It’s angel radio, there’s so many voices.”
“What are they saying?” Sam asked.
“There’s been a massive surge in celestial energy,” Cas explained as he tried to focus, out of practice with deciphering so many frequencies at once.
When it finally slid into place, he noticed a stirring within himself. His grace swirled inside him, curling up around a new spark of consciousness. The reason for the angels’ panic was suddenly clear.
“A Nephilim has come into being.” One of Cas’ hands migrated to his stomach, where he could feel his grace revolving slowly. “It’s the offspring of a human and an angel,” he explained for Sam and Dean’s benefit.
His eyes met Dean’s. The man nodded slightly before asking, “And that’s big news?”
Cas was sure he heard an unspoken question under Dean’s words, one that he didn’t know how to answer.
“Yes,” he said, trying to make it clear that he was answering the silent question as well. “But the power that produced it is immense. It’s much, much greater than a typical angel.”
Realisation dawned in Sam’s eyes. “Lucifer.”
Cas looked away, focusing on the floor. “Not exactly. The child…” He closed his eyes. “It’s mine.”
“Wait, what?” Sam said, incredulous. Cas looked up at him, avoiding looking in Dean’s direction. He didn’t want to see the man’s expression yet. “You knocked someone up?”
“No. Someone ‘knocked me up’,” Cas elaborated with air quotes around the appropriate words.
There was a long silence. Cas could feel Dean’s eyes on him but wasn’t ready to meet them yet.
“…What?”
“Wait, you’re pregnant?” Dean said, his voice loud enough to make Cas wince. “But you’re, you know.” Cas looked up in time to see Dean gesture vaguely in Cas’ direction. “A dude.”
Cas glared at him. “Do you really want me to explain angelic biology to you, Dean?”
The man seemed to consider for a moment before saying, “Yeah, guess not.”
“But,” Sam said, reminding Cas of the presence of the younger Winchester. “How?”
“Sam—” Cas tried.
“Who’s the… er, the dad?” Sam asked, sounding uncertain. Cas saw Dean tense out of the corner of his eye. “Is it another angel? Or…”
“Cas, can I talk to you quickly?” Dean said. “Alone?”
“Yes, I think that would be best,” Cas replied, following Dean out of the room, leaving a surprised and confused Sam behind them.
No sooner had the door to Dean’s room closed behind them than Dean was turning towards Cas with a wild look in his eyes.
“You’re pregnant?” he said. “You’re seriously pregnant? How is that even possible?”
“I’m an angel,” Cas said coldly. “My biology is—”
“And you didn’t warn me?” Dean all but yelled. “It is, er, it is mine, right?” he said, the volume of his voice dropping slightly, his eyes darting up and down Cas’ body nervously.
“Yes, the child is yours, Dean,” Cas said, trying not to feel hurt by the very idea that Dean would suggest that he had been with other people. “And I didn’t warn you because I didn’t think this was a possibility. Conceiving Nephilim is very rare, especially between a human male and an angel in a male vessel. Virtually impossible, except…” Cas took a deep breath, more to delay the inevitable than because he actually needed it. “Except for when the angel in question has recently been instilled with archangel grace.”
“Archangel grace…” Dean’s eyes widened. “Wait, you don’t mean…”
“Lucifer’s grace. Yes.”
“So the kid is yours, mine, and freaking Lucifer’s ?” Dean started pacing, running his hands through his hair. “And the angels know? Does that mean…”
“Lucifer probably knows as well,” Cas confirmed.
“Great. That’s just… great,” Dean huffed. He did one more lap of the room before collapsing onto his bed, his head in his hands.
The two of them wallowed in the silence, Dean on the bed while Cas watched him, trying to discern any changes in his mood.
“What are we going to tell Sam?” Cas asked hesitantly.
Dean looked up sharply. “The truth. You’ve got Lucifer’s bun in the oven.”
Cas looked away, unable to meet Dean’s cold gaze anymore. “Fine,” he said. “It’s your decision.”
Dean’s eyes softened marginally. He stood up and walked over to Cas, one hand extended as if he wanted to touch the angel. “Cas…”
Cas turned away.
Someone knocked me up.
The words kept revolving around Dean’s head as Cas explained his… condition to Sam, leaving out Dean’s part in it. His eyes strayed to Cas’ stomach. Would it grow round over the coming months with Dean’s child? Would he be able to put his hand against it and feel the baby kick against his palm?
He had a few memories of his mother pregnant with Sam and having her grab his hand and place it against her rounded stomach, laughing at the way his eyes widened when he felt the baby kick.
“You feel that?” she would ask him. “That’s your sibling.”
Maybe Cas would want to move out of the bunker into a real house with a real yard where Cas could plant flowers and play with the baby, real windows which would let in the sunlight and a real kitchen where Dean could cook for Cas and the kid. Sam could even visit to get to know his niece or nephew.
Would the baby look like Cas, with his messy dark hair and intense blue eyes? Or maybe they’d have Dean’s green eyes and dark blonde hair? Dean could sing the kid to sleep with Hey, Jude, just like his mom had done when he was young, and teach them all the words to every Led Zeppelin song.
Maybe he would get out of hunting and have a life, a real, apple-pie white-picket-fence life, with Cas and their kid…
Dean had to remind himself that the kid wasn’t just his and Cas’, it was Lucifer’s. This wasn’t his ticket to a happy ending, it was yet another apocalyptic problem that was probably going to end in blood, pain, and death
“But I thought you said that it was from an angel and a human?” Sam was saying as Dean tuned back into the conversation.
“Yes,” Cas replied, keeping his eyes trained on Sam. “It’s complicated.”
“Uh-huh.” Sam squinted suspiciously. “So, what? Immaculate conception? Does that make you the Virgin Mary?”
“Do we really have time for this?” Dean cut in before Cas accidentally revealed anything. “Lucifer’s gonna be gunning for Cas, we need to come up with a plan.”
He wasn’t ready for Sam to know about him and Cas, especially now with Cas’ whole pregnancy situation to deal with.
With Lucifer still possessing President Jefferson Rooney, they opted to meet Crowley and Rowena at a motel in Indianapolis that was only half an hour from the estate where Lucifer was staying.
Cas, as usual, was in the back seat. Dean found himself glancing back at the angel in the rearview mirror even more than usual, trying to discreetly examine him for any changes. The only thing he really noticed that was different was the way Cas’ hands rested lightly across his stomach rather than in his lap.
They had been driving for the entire day, only stopping a few times briefly to fuel up the car or grab snacks. Cas stayed in the car the whole time, alert and watchful. The angel had barely spoken and the few times he had said something, it had often been directed at Sam. He had barely even looked at Dean for hours. The lack of communication between them was making Dean antsy.
Sam was on the phone with Crowley as they neared Indianapolis, confirming last-minute details. Dean tuned him out and took the opportunity to talk to Cas.
“You, uh,” Dean cleared his throat, keeping his eyes on the road and resisting the urge to glance back at Cas again, “you feeling alright, buddy?”
“I’m fine, Dean,” the angel replied in a clipped tone.
Dean saw Sam glancing back and forth between the two of them out of the corner of his eye, a crease forming between his eyes. Dean knew that his brother had to have picked up on the coldness between him and Cas, he was just hoping that the reason why wouldn’t be obvious. He was almost relieved when he heard sirens behind them. The car pursuing them was a nondescript black SUV, its only notable feature the flashing red and blue lights.
“Oh, crap,” Dean said as the car overtook them. He pulled the Impala over to the side of the road before turning back to Cas. “Alright, stay here. We got this.”
He and Sam got out of the car, leaving Cas safe in the back. The three men getting out of the SUV with neat suits and earpieces were definitely not just your average cops.
“Gentlemen,” Sam said. “Is there a problem?”
Dean reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out his FBI badge. “Federal agents, guys. We need to keep going,” Dean said, gesturing down the road with his badge.
“And I need six grand by Saturday,” the guy who seemed to be in charge said, taking a step forward in a clear attempt at intimidation, “but that ain’t happening either.”
“You guys know who you’re talking to?” Sam said.
“Winchesters,” the guy replied without missing a beat, looking coolly at first Dean and then Sam. “You make those toy badges in craft class in the psych ward? Nice car by the way.” He nodded at the Impala, diverting Sam and Dean’s eyes towards it. “Really stands out.”
While they were distracted, the guy made a grab for the gun in his waistband. Dean seized his wrist, keeping his hand away from the gun. He punched the man hard. The gun was in the man’s hand, but Dean had a good grip on his wrist and kept it pointed down towards the road. He could hear Sam fighting the other two, the sound of fists against flesh and the bang of someone getting thrown against the Impala breaking the quiet of the deserted road.
“Let him go!” Dean saw one of the two men who had been fighting Sam behind him, the man’s gun aimed at his back. “Now!”
After another second of struggling, Dean finally released the man. Sam shoved away the one he had had in a headlock. As soon as the three men were free, they all aimed their guns at the brothers.
A car door slammed behind them, and Dean heard footsteps on the concrete road. He didn’t need to turn to know who it was.
“Stop!” the man in charge yelled. Cas, of freaking course, didn’t listen. Stubborn bastard. “Don’t move!”
“Cas, don’t!” Dean held a hand out towards the angel. Thankfully, he at least listened to Dean and stopped just behind him and Sam. Dean didn’t want to find out if his current condition would affect his usual resistance to bullets.
Dean was trying to think of a way to distract the men to give Sam and Cas a chance to make a run for it when he became aware of another car approaching, playing what sounded like jazz. He turned and saw another black car stop just a few feet from the group. The door opened and a man in a neatly pressed suit stepped out. Dean, Sam, Cas, and the men pointing their guns at them were all frozen in surprise until the new man raised what Dean was pretty sure was a grenade launcher. All at once, everyone was scrambling for cover. Dean and Sam made it behind the Impala, holding their arms up to shield themselves as the car exploded.
Dean could hear fire blazing as the man began to approach, stopping to kick a gun out of the way.
“You, angel,” the man said in an upper-class British accent. “Wipe their memories.”
One of the men tried to get up, and the British guy knocked him out again with a sharp kick to his face. Dean stood up slowly, Sam behind him. Cas was still standing by the car (of course the idiot hadn’t run away from the explosion, Dean thought with both affection and exasperation), appearing unfazed as he squinted at the man, who had turned to look at the blazing car.
“US government plates,” he said. “Elite dogcatcher level. Someone special wants you. Whose hydrant have you lads been tinkling on?”
“I’m sorry, who the hell are you?” Dean asked.
“Oh, where are my manners?” the man said. “Arthur Ketch. British Men of Letters.”
Of-fucking-course another one of those British douchebags had turned up. Dean was already sick of his stupid smug smile and the way he already seemed to be looking down his nose at them. The way he had ordered Cas around, expecting Dean’s angel to just jump up and fetch like a good dog also got Dean’s hackles up.
“Great, another one of you dicks,” he growled, one of his arms slightly extended in front of Cas, just in case he was even considering doing anything for Ketch. “Who the hell asked you—”
“Maybe we should save this for after we have sorted out your little problem?” Ketch said, nodding towards the men sprawled across the concrete.
Dean scowled, opening his mouth to tell the guy to fuck off.
“Yeah,” Sam said hurriedly, shooting Dean a glare. “We can talk after we’ve taken care of these guys. Cas, could you erase their memories?”
Dean turned to glare at his brother, who gave him a disapproving frown in return.
“Of course, Sam,” Cas replied to Sam, brushing past Dean and crouching beside the first of the men.
Cas made quick work of the memory erasing, and then he, Sam, and Dean dragged the three of them off the road. Once they were done, Ketch told them to follow behind his car. Dean had half a mind not to listen, but the guy had saved their asses.
It was dark by the time they parked and Dean could feel the long day of driving catching up with him. He stifled a yawn as he, Sam, and Cas got out of the car and turned to face Ketch.
“Okay, shoot,” Dean said. “Let’s hear the pitch so we can get out of here.”
Ketch chuckled. “It’s all very simple, really,” he said. “Mick Davies asked you to join our effort, which we're taking international. My instructions are to strongly encourage a ‘yes’.”
“So, what, you’ve just been following us?” Cas said.
“Not at all,” Ketch said, some of the friendliness gone from his tone. “We’re good dogs, we only come when called. And he,” Ketch nodded in Sam’s direction, “called.”
Dean turned to Sam. “You what?”
“I, er, I didn’t, uh…” Sam stammered, looking guiltily between Dean and Cas, who had also fixed him with a disbelieving look. “I hung up.”
“Yes, you did,” Ketch said. “Which made Mr Davies think you were in trouble, which you were. So he rings me. Bing, bang, boom. Meet Bob. He's your uncle. Oh, and um, you’re welcome.”
“And why should we believe anything you have to say?” Dean asked.
Ketch looked over at Cas. “You, halo.” Dean bristled at the way the man was addressing Cas. He barely suppressed the urge to snap at Ketch or step in front of Cas. “Do you sense I’m lying?”
“My name is Castiel,” Cas growled. Ketch didn’t respond, waiting for an answer. “And… no. But the truth can be situational.”
Ketch chuckled again. “Oh, I do enjoy an angel.” He turned back to Sam and Dean. “But I understand your hesitation. You haven't exactly seen us at our best. Lady Bevell is a bit… excitable.”
Understatement, Dean thought. Outloud, he said, “She tried to kill us.”
“Like I said, excitable.”
“And you’re better?” Sam said.
“I don't care about you one way or the other. I'm not an ideologue,” Ketch said.
“And all you wanna do here is help these American hunters to clear this country of monsters?” Cas questioned him sceptically.
“We understand things are different here,” Ketch said. “We're eager to collaborate. The British Men of Letters are centuries old, lads. We can offer expertise, weaponry, skills.”
“Like we saw out on the road?” Sam asked.
“I’m an artist, Mr Winchester.” Ketch held his car key up and clicked it dramatically. “I paint in many colours.”
Dean allowed himself some perfectly honest curiosity as Ketch went to open the trunk of his car. “Was that a grenade launcher?”
“Quite,” Ketch said. “Our engineers have spent years blending sorcery and technology. For instance, we don't always decapitate vampires. Inefficient, really, especially for large nests.” Dean, Sam, and Cas all moved closer to the car as Ketch pulled what looked like a gun out of a case and showed it to them. “We irradiate them. Reorder their DNA, their own blood becomes lethal to them.”
“Cool,” Sam said, his expression contradicting his words.
Dean shared an uncomfortable look with Cas, unable to prevent his thoughts from straying to the good vampires they had met. He had a feeling that the British Men of Letters were more of a shoot-first-and-ask-questions-later organisation.
“The toys are the fun part,” Ketch said, smirking smugly. He picked up what appeared to be a large golden egg covered in sigils from the car. “Hyperbolic Pulse Generator. Exorcisms are unreliable. This device emits a force which drives the possessing demon from the vessel,” Ketch explained.
Dean met Cas’ eyes again, both of them clearly sharing the same thought.
“What about a, er, possessing angel?” Sam asked, voicing the idea that they all had.
Ketch looked curiously between them. “And what might you boys be working on?”
“Well, you want us to trust you, you’re gonna have to trust us first,” Dean told him.
“And that means…?” Ketch trailed off, waiting for Dean to elaborate.
Dean held his hand out. “We’re gonna need that egg thing.”
Ketch raised his eyebrows. “For an angel problem?”
Dean remained tight-lipped. Ketch paused for a few seconds before turning to the car. A few seconds later, he turned back, slipping the egg into a grey cloth back. “The words to activate it are written out phonetically inside.”
“Awesome.” Dean took the cloth bag and looked inside at the egg. “Thanks,” he said grudgingly, glancing back up at Ketch. “We better get going.”
“Of course,” Ketch said. “Will you be in touch?”
“Maybe,” Sam said, glancing at Dean. “We’ll see.”
The three of them got back in the car and Dean handed the egg to Cas before getting back onto the road and driving towards the motel. Dean glanced in the rearview mirror to see Cas examining the egg, looking closely at the sigils arranged in neat rows around the top half.
Sam left the car to book the room, leaving Dean and Cas alone in the car.
“So, what do you think?” Dean asked.
“I believe that the Hyperbolic Pulse Generator should be effective against angels. I’m not sure if it will be strong enough for Lucifer, but I think it’s certainly possible,” Cas said, his eyes still focused on the egg in his hands.
“That’s good,” Dean said, looking at his hands, still tightly gripped around the steering wheel. “Look, Cas—”
The door on the passenger seat opened, interrupting Dean. “I got two queens,” Sam said as he got back into the car. “Sorry, Cas, they didn’t have anything else.”
“I don’t sleep, Sam,” Cas reminded him. “I’ll be fine.”
Dean didn’t get another opportunity to speak to Cas. He was bone tired and barely had enough energy to pull off his boots before collapsing onto his bed and falling asleep. He woke up the next morning to find Cas and Sam sitting together at the small table in the corner of the room. Sam was on his computer while Cas had an old book open on the table.
“Oh good, you’re up,” Sam said as Dean sat up and stretched. “Crowley gave us an address; we have to be there by eleven so you better get ready.”
“Uh-huh,” Dean said, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand.
He got out of bed and headed towards the small bathroom to have a quick shower and brush his teeth and came out after with just a towel wrapped around his waist to get a clean change of clothes from his bag. He barely suppressed a smirk when he looked up to see Cas’ eyes fixed on him. The angel lingered on Dean’s legs and then chest for a couple of seconds before his eyes met Dean’s. They stared at each other, Dean breathless as he looked into Cas’ eyes. The angel was the first to look away.
Ten minutes later, they were packed up and back in the car again, driving towards the motel they were meeting Crowley and Rowena at. The demon and the witch were waiting for them inside the room they had booked, a bowl surrounded by spell ingredients already laid out on the table.
“So, what’s this plan you’ve got?” Crowley asked them once the brothers and the angel were settled in the room.
“We’ve got something that should be able to drive a possessing angel out of its vessel,” Sam explained.
Dean pulled the egg out of the cloth bag to show Crowley and Rowena.
“So you're gonna pop Lucifer out of the President with that?” the demon said.
“I hope so,” Dean replied. “Otherwise, we’re all dead.”
Crowley hummed skceptically. “And how are you going to get Lucifer here?” Sam and Dean both glanced at Cas, drawing Crowley and Rowena’s eyes to the angel.
“Lucifer will come after me,” Cas said. “I’m carrying his child.”
Rowena’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re pregnant?”
“You’re glowing, Feathers,” Crowley said, looking the angel up and down.
“Okay, okay,” Dean said, taking a half step so that he was standing in front of Cas. “Point is, Lucifer will turn up. This’ll work.”
“Hmm.” Crowley eyed Cas closely, raising Dean’s hackles. “And how are you planning to alert Lucifer to his broodmare’s presence?”
The only thing that kept Dean from punching the demon was the large, warm hand he suddenly felt on his shoulder. Cas squeezed Dean’s shoulder before removing his hand.
“I’ll open myself up to angel radio and allow him to track me down,” the angel told Crowley.
“He’ll know it’s a trap,” Rowena pointed out.
“Yeah, well, we don’t see a way around that,” Sam replied. “We’ll just have to hope he won’t expect what we’re throwing at him.”
“Ah, yes, hope, ” Rowena scoffed.
“Are you in, or not?” Dean asked, scowling.
The witch rolled her eyes at him. “Of course I’m in. You lads can’t do this without me”
“Great,” Dean muttered under his breath, already wishing that they could get this over with. He missed the days when ‘saving people, hunting things’ mainly just consisted of a couple of ghosts and the occasional demon.
Cas tried to help the others as they set up in preparation for Lucifer, but Dean guided him to a chair and gave him a stern look whenever he made to stand up. Crowley watched with a smirk, probably smug over Dean’s clear lack of faith in Cas.
Angel radio, at least, had quietened down to a background buzz that was far easier to tune out. He could feel Lucifer’s tainted grace thrumming over the frequencies as well, his presence black and oily as the archangel searched, calling out to Cas and growing more and more impatient the longer the angel resisted him. Cas closed his eyes, using all of his power and will to keep Lucifer out.
“Hey, Cas.” The angel opened his eyes to see Sam, watching him with concern. “You okay?”
“Lucifer is trying to find me,” Cas told him. He saw Dean look up sharply out of the corner of his eye. “I’m holding him off, but he’s… very strong. Stronger than me.”
Sam’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, betraying his anxiety. It was sometimes easy to forget that the man had been trapped in the Cage with Lucifer and tortured for years to the point of insanity. He hid it so well but Cas knew that Sam was still terrified of Lucifer. Confronting the Devil was always a challenge, and Cas admired his friend’s bravery. Sam’s eyes hardened again in steely resolve and he laid a hand on Cas’ shoulder.
“Just a bit longer,” he said, giving Cas’ shoulder a short, reassuring squeeze before going back to what he was doing.
Cas smiled weakly before looking down at the ground, tuning out the sounds around him again as he kept pushing back against Lucifer.
Castiel! Lucifer called, his voice making all of angel radio tremble like an earthquake. I know you can hear me, Cas. We’re connected now, you and I. We’re gonna be parents! Don’t you want to celebrate this joyous news together? The words were teasing, mocking, but Cas could feel the frustration bleeding through, the anger at being refused. He shivered, his ruined wings wrapping around his shoulders. You can’t hide from me forever, little angel. You can’t hide my child from me. I will find you. Maybe, if you let me in now, I’ll consider letting you live.
Cas wrapped his arms around his midsection. He would not let Lucifer anywhere near his child. The thought and the surge of protectiveness that accompanied it hit Cas from out of nowhere, shocking but, at the same time, so right.
He knew it was foolish, thinking like that. The Winchesters (Dean) would never allow him to keep his baby, not when it was partially Lucifer’s. Dean probably wouldn’t even want to have another child, especially not with Cas, after the last time. It had been because of Cas that Dean’s brief stint at fatherhood had ended. It didn’t matter that Dean had asked Cas to erase Lisa and Ben’s memories, he had still been the one to do it, had even been happy to, knowing that Dean wouldn’t be able to leave Cas and go back to them.
“We’re ready,” Dean said.
Cas looked up to see the man crouched in front of him, his eyes soft with concern. It was a nice change from the veiled anger and distrust from the last two days, so Cas let himself bask for a few seconds before getting down to business.
“Okay,” Cas said, smiling at Dean.
“Good,” Dean nodded. “Remember, just keep him talking. Buy us some time.”
“Of course, Dean.”
The man nodded again and ducked through the double doors that led to the adjoining motel room. Cas caught sight of Rowena, Crowley and Sam standing over a bowl, surrounded by spell ingredients, before Dean shut the door behind them, leaving Cas alone. He stood up, not wanting to be sitting when Lucifer got there, and faced the doorway, his back pressed against the wall and his wings flared.
Pushing past his protective instincts turned out to be harder than he’d anticipated. He had to force himself to remember that banishing Lucifer back to the Cage was necessary to ensure the safety of everyone, including the baby growing inside him.
He felt it, the moment Lucifer latched onto him. The archangel’s gleeful laugh echoed across angel radio. Decided to stop fighting, huh? Good choice. Ready or not, here I come!
Cas felt Lucifer’s wings beating, tainted by Hell but still whole and powerful, before he saw the archangel. Lucifer landed in front of Cas, his true form folding cleanly back into his new human vessel. He grinned, his eyes glowing red as he looked Cas up and down.
“Well, well, well,” he purred. “If it isn’t my baby mama.” He looked around. “Where are your masters, little doggie? Sam? Dean! Come out, come out, wherever you are!”
“I’m alone,” Cas said, hoping that the warding that they’d put up would adequately shield the presence of the Winchesters, Rowena, and Crowley from Lucifer. “I couldn’t bring them. They don’t understand.” Usually, Cas was a bad liar, but the words came out smoothly, easily. Like it wasn’t really a lie.
“Of course they don’t understand.” Lucifer began prowling around the room. “They’re human. They could never comprehend the magnitude of what we are and what we’ve created. Our little bundle of joy.” Lucifer, apparently satisfied that they were alone, approached Cas again and placed a hand on Cas’ stomach. Cas felt the spark of life inside him move, flickering out towards the archangel.
He jerked away, pulling his trenchcoat around him. “No,” he growled. “You stay away from us.”
Lucifer’s grin didn’t so much as twitch, but his eyes did darken.
“You’re not trying to keep me from my child, are you, Castiel?”
“It’s mine, not yours.” It’s Dean’s, Cas thought privately.
“I beg to differ.” Lucifer advanced on Cas again. The angel barely had any warning before he was being pinned against a wall, a hand tight around his throat. Tendrils of Lucifer’s grace sank, claw-like, into Cas’ ruined wings, making him cry out in pain. “That kid’s mine. Maybe I’ll let you see it, once, before I tear you apart.”
Cas heard a door burst open, but he was still focused on the grip on his throat, which didn’t loosen, even as Lucifer turned his attention away. He felt a surge of power wash over the room and Lucifer’s hands seemed to lose a tiny bit of their strength. He could hear Sam activating the Hyperbolic Pulse Generator.
“Sam,” Lucifer said. “We’ve done this dance so many times.” The archangel finally let him go and Cas fell, gasping, to the ground.
“Get out of the way, Cas!” Dean yelled.
Cas scrambled away across the floor, keeping low so he didn’t accidentally get evicted from his body. He found himself by one of the beds and pulled himself up, watching as Lucifer’s true form exploded out of his human vessel, an inhuman scream that only Cas could hear ringing through the air.
Rowena was chanting, but Cas couldn’t make out the words over Lucifer’s enraged cry. He stretched his wings around himself, creating a safe cocoon, a shield against all the dangers currently surrounding him. His featherless wings couldn’t do much, but they were enough.
Lucifer’s grace was pouring from his vessel’s mouth, forced out after his true form, before it disappeared down a vent in the floor, dragging the archangel with it. Before he disappeared for good, the archangel locked eyes with Cas, every one of his thousands of red eyes gleaming with fury. Cas couldn’t look away until Lucifer was gone, banished back down into the depths of Hell to be incarcerated, once again, in the Cage.
And then it was over, the only remaining sound being everyone’s heavy breathing. He gave the Winchesters a look before crawling his way over to Lucifer’s former vessel and touching a finger gently to his forehead.
“He’s alive,” he informed the brothers. He noticed, as he turned towards them, that the three of them, plus the unconscious man on the floor, were now the only people in the room. Rowena and Crowley had vanished. “He won’t remember a thing.”
Cas’ words seemed to shake the brothers out of whatever daze they had been in. They exchanged a look, half disbelieving, half exhilarated.
“We got him,” Dean said, a half smile forming on his face. “We got Lucifer.”
Sam was smiling as well, and Cas felt a small bubble of happiness form, somewhere deep inside his chest. Dean offered him a hand, and Cas didn’t hesitate to accept the help. Dean didn’t let go immediately once Cas was on his feet again. Instead, he lingered, his other hand coming to rest on Cas’ shoulder as if to steady him.
At this point, Cas was intimately familiar with those hands, with how rough and calloused his palms were, how there was almost always dirt caked under his nails and the way they always smelt like motor oil, gunpowder, and another scent that seemed uniquely Dean. He would never tire of examining them while Dean slept, or even when Dean was awake, watching him fondly. He would never tire of having those hands on him, pressed against his shoulder or grazing along his spine or clutching at his hips.
Dean looked at Cas with a soft, happy look that was usually reserved for when they were in private, and he squeezed Cas’ hand before releasing it and clapping him on the back, his expression settling back to his usual cocky grin.
“You okay, buddy?” he asked. Cas managed a nod before Dean gently pushed him towards the door. “You better get out of here. Don’t want to exert yourself in your condition, right?” He laughed, oblivious to the happy bubble inside of Cas deflating slightly. Of course, Dean still didn’t want him around, not when he could be more of a liability than an asset.
“Yeah, you should get out of here, Cas,” Sam said. “Dean and I’ll take care of this,” he gestured to the unconscious president, “and meet up with you later.”
Cas managed to hide the hurt he felt until he was outside, walking towards where they had stashed the Impala in the car park of a nearby diner. Dean had thought it would be safer there and, as a bonus, they would be able to get a burger after they killed Lucifer.
Maybe, if he hadn’t been stewing in misery, he would have noticed how long he waited, the cup of tea he had ordered to blend in getting colder and colder the longer he was there. He only realised how long he had waited when he checked his phone to see if Sam and Dean had contacted him. He had been waiting there, alone, for nearly four hours.
By the time he got back to the motel, the room was empty. Sam and Dean were gone.