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Title: (Un)expecting Verse #5: Easy Come, Easy Go
Author: storm_rain
Pairings/Characters: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Gabriel, Bobby Singer
Rating: T
Word Count: 1, 110
Warnings: Slash, mpreg
Spoilers: Season 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural and do not make a profit from writing this story.
Summary: They needed this. Time to settle in and figure out what they were going to do about everything, a little dash of normal through all of the weird and strange. They needed an interlude.
Notes: This was supposed to be the content from the previous chapter, but the pregnant little plot bunny decided that Dean needed to have a conflict of interest, and that got really long and needed its own chapter; and who was I to deny a pregnant bunny? So here is the “interlude” (though do they ever really get an interlude or reprieve? At all? Exactly) that I said would be last chapter.
And yes, it’s a pregnant boy bunny. (pets him) His name is Loki.
P.S.: The kumquats mentioned later in the chapter are an homage to Richard mentioning that he picks them in his yard. XD
P.S.S.: I had already written in the “dutch oven” part before GISHWHES. XD Which is another reason this took so freakin’ long to post, I’m sorry! ;__;
Edit: Basically my year was hard and really sucked. No writing occurred. It’s still tough, so updates won’t be frequent, but not as infrequent, and I vow to finish this for you all.
P.S.S.S: Thank you to candylovinangel, Bakurasenov and the other Rpers for finally kicking apart my writer’s block!
Nowadays they’ve settled into something of a routine. Every other week, Dean will go off on a hunt, Sam joining him only if it’s a particularly difficult case (like the werewolf pack that had decided to start munching on the local middle school kids). For the other weeks, they sleep with their partners and dote on them until they (Gabriel) kick them off of their side of the bed “on accident” (“It was!” “Was not!” “snicker”).
The angels are doing alright. They still can’t use their mojo, need to eat, sleep, and do other human things—Gabriel has unfortunately discovered a love of “dutch ovens”; farting and holding Sam’s head under the covers.
Boys.
They have strange mood swings and even stranger cravings, which Sam and Dean have to accommodate on their own because the angels’ powers still don’t work. Sam is still recovering from running out at two in the morning to the nearest McDonalds (twenty miles away) and ordering a McFlurry and trying to explain that yes, he did want ALL of the toppings in it—ALL of them. That had been hard to work out. Dean, for his part, not so fondly remembers just two days ago when Castiel had requested two bacon cheeseburgers from Burger King, and then upon coming back, having Cas wrinkle his nose in disgust and request a steak sandwich from Culvers instead.
That hadn’t been a good night.
Castiel, having once been at near human capacity before, had settled into a life without flying and using his Grace fairly easily. Gabriel, however... Well, Gabriel refuses to give up, and still tries every few days to conjure up things, fly, and on one occasion, time-travel (he had succeeded, but only went back two minutes and ended up in the bathroom while Dean and Cas were in the shower doing—well, he still had nightmares).
Today, four months in, it’s around noon, and Dean just returned from a hunt last night; he and Castiel had come down for breakfast, and immediately retreated back upstairs. Bobby has started to sleep in the panic room because of the...noise, and refuses to let the boys trade rooms, because the angels don’t sleep as well if they’re not in the same bed as them, let alone the same room. Sam and Gabriel are in the library, still doing unfruitful research into how angel pregnancy works. Well, Sam is; Gabriel is trying to use his mojo again.
Gabriel snaps again. A rainbow-painted clown balancing on a ball and juggling kumquats appears. Sam hears the noise, looks up. He freezes and turns as white as a sheet. Gabriel notices this out of the corner of his eye, curses, and snaps again, hard, and the clown disappears, leaving nothing in its place this time. Sam visibly slumps in relief, and tries to bury himself into the couch as Gabriel walks over (a bit slower than usual, and with a slight waddle, due to the ever-growing baby bump) and sits down beside him. The moose doesn’t succeed in disappearing into the couch cushions, and settles for putting a pillow over his head.
“I’m sorry, Sammy,” Gabriel apologizes, “I know you’re scared of clowns.”
“’M not scared,” Sam mumbles into the sofa, “Just...don’t like ‘em.” Gabriel smiles amusedly.
“Right,” he says disbelievingly, and sighs. He looks at his fingers again. Technically, he doesn’t have to snap in order to make things appear, or do anything else involving his Grace, but he’s so used to channeling his power through his fingers that it’s second nature now. He feels like a human. And it scares the hell out of him.
Sam must see something in his face in the fleeting moments he looks up, and frowns.
“Gabe, are you alright?” And that’s enough to break the angel of out of his brief moping session; despite the aftershocks of the clown appearance, small trembles barely visible to the human eye shaking his frame, Sam Winchester is worrying about someone else before himself, as always. He smiles warmly and pulls him up to rest against his side.
“I’m alright, Sam. Just worried that, after the baby comes, the lack of mojo will become permanent.” He sighs. “Cas could handle that, I’m sure, but... I’m an archangel, Sam. I don’t know how to be anything else.” Sam rests his head on his shoulder, feeling himself slowly relax as he helps Gabe through his crisis.
“I know, Gabe,” he says quietly, sounding vaguely guilty, “But if that does happen... you know we’re all here for you, right? ...I’m here for you.”
Gabe smiles slightly, and presses a kiss to his shoulder.
“Sam, this is not your fault, or the baby’s fault. It’s just how life works. Sometimes something has to be lost for other things to grow. And,” he looks at his fingers, “if that happens to be my Grace...” He rubs his stomach. “Then so be it.” Sam places a hand over his on his stomach, and rubs it with him, a reverent smile on his face.
“I can’t wait for the baby,” he murmurs, eyes never leaving the angel’s stomach as he speaks, continuing to rub it gently. “I can’t believe that I’m actually going to be a dad. I...I didn’t think it would happen after.... after Jess.” He lets out a small sigh, a more melancholy look on his face now, and Gabriel squeezes the hand on top of his.
“Believe it, Sammy. This kid is yours and ours. And you’re going to be a great father.” He meets the surprised hazel eyes with his own golden ones. “I know it.”
Sam hauls him in for a kiss, hand warm and reassuring on his stomach, and Gabriel feels the first kick. Sam gasps and looks up at him with such a joyful smile, practically beaming, that Gabriel has to pull him in for another kiss, gentle and sweet, with a tenderness behind it that Sam doesn’t always get from the angel. But he welcomes it eagerly, kissing back just as softly, and stroking his free hand through Gabriel’s hair.
They talk for the next few hours about baby names, the weirder cravings Gabe’s been having lately, and other mindless little things that they don’t get to talk about very often, like how Gabriel really likes it when Sam takes care of him sometimes, but how sometimes he needs to take care of Sam; how Gabriel would adjust if he did lose his mojo permanently, and what steps to take; what they thought the birth would be like, because they weren’t sure how exactly it would happen. And it’s a nice break, to just sit down and talk...a nice...interlude.
TBC