Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

   It’s been three months since anyone has heard from Cas. Three months since he’s helped, three months since he’s shown himself, three months since so much as a single snarky remark about how he’s apparently so very busy.

   It’s not for lack of trying on the part of the Winchesters. They’ve tried. They’ve prayed for help, prayed for a sign, more times than Dean can count. Dean still prays, every single night, begging and yelling and threatening and pleading and still, there’s never any response. “He’s probably busy,” Sam says. And yeah, Dean knows he probably is. He’s not sure if that makes him feel better or worse, knowing that Cas is probably out there just fine and dandy and intentionally ignoring them. It hurts. It burns. As they fight their way through yet another battle that would have been so much easier with an angel by their side, Dean feels rage well up inside him in such a powerful surge it threatens to choke him and he fights harder, more violently, makes stupid mistakes, lashes out at Sam, and curses Cas’s name straight up to the Heavens. 

   He tries to convince Sam that’s just how it is. Dean’s fine, he’s just an ass. And he’s so mean to Sam. Sam gives him this stupid, pathetically pitying stare, laced with poisonous disappointment and Dean feels absolutely sick to his stomach, running away to his room and slamming the door. 

   Later, in the quiet moments that follow, come the waves of self-hatred, remorse, regret, and fear, the worries Dean’s been desperately trying to fight away, and bury beneath the anger and blame. The fear that maybe, just maybe, this isn’t Cas’s fault after all. Maybe he isn’t ignoring them. Maybe he’s needed their help all along. And then Dean drinks himself to sleep knowing that even if that were true, he has no idea what to do, no idea where to find him. And he feels like the most horrible and useless man in the world.

  At least, until the day they face an angel on a hunt that gets a little too cocky.

  Maybe Dean is being more of a dick to this angel than he needs to, stabbing the wall two inches from the angel’s eye with an angel blade, yelling at him with so much force his lungs hurt. The angel just laughs at him, a horrible, demeaning sort of laugh, and says “Guess someone’s still upset over Castiel, hmm? As though he’s going to return to you just because you stuck a blade in me.”

   “You know nothing!” Dean snarls, twisting his blade where it’s stuck in the wall so that it scratches the angel’s face. “I don’t give a shit about Cas. He ran off, won’t talk to me? Fine! That’s his choice. You’re just trying to rile me up so I kill you before you tell me about the tablet.”

   “Oh no no,” the angel laughs, only wincing at the scratch, “You’ve got it all wrong! I don’t know where the tablet is. But I know where Castiel is. And the only reason he won’t talk to you is because he can’t!”

   The angel’s hit his mark. Dean’s mouth drops open as though he’s the one who’s just been stabbed, the blade slipping through his grip as easily as water as his heart drops into his shoes. Behind him, he hears Sam swear. “What do you mean?” Dean whispers. He can feel himself shaking. He grabs the angel by the lapels, pulling him in close to scream in his face. “You’d better not be fucking lying to me! What do you mean?”

   The angel laughs and laughs. “Oh! Oh! I got you! Look at that, not so tough and unfeeling after all, huh?”

   “Shut the fuck up!” Dean yells, slamming the angel’s head back against the wall. “Where is he? What have you done to him?”

   Fear flashes through the angel’s eyes as he appears to glimpse the uncontrolled fury coursing through Dean, enough to recognize that he’s made a horrible, fatal error. “I haven’t done anything,” the angel says, “I’ve only heard things.”

   “You’d better tell me exactly what kind of things or you’re going to have the slowest, most painful death in angel history,” Dean says, accepting the angel blade back from Sam to stab it right into the angel’s shoulder. 

   The angel grimaces. “....I don’t know any details.”

   “Wrong answer.” He pulls the blade downward, hard and fast. The angel yells.

   “Ahh! No! I don’t! Just that he’s being rehabilitated!”

   “Rehabilitated?” Sam says, frowning, “What’s that?”

   The angel’s eyes dart to the blade, which Dean has in a death grip. “Reprogrammed. He’s in big, big trouble with the higher ups. They’re starting him over from Stage 1.”

   “The fuck does that mean?” Dean growls, jabbing the blade in harder, “Where is he?”

   “Ow! Fuck! I’m helping you! Jesus!” the angel gasps, “He was taken to Naomi. The process has already started and as far as I know, it’s all going according to plan. Intelligence isn’t my division. That’s all I know.”

   Dean pulls the blade out sickeningly slowly, then jams it in again to the same wound.

   “OW! HEY! I MEAN IT! THAT’S ALL!”

   “Fuck you,” Dean says quietly, and slits the angel’s throat, watching the blood spurt everywhere as the angel splutters desperately for breath.

   “Dean,” Sam says, putting a hand on his brother’s arm. Dean is shaking, his breath coming in fast little pants. His ears are ringing. Sam takes the blade from his grasp.

   “They caught him,” Dean whispers, “They caught him. They’re hurting him!”

   “I know,” Sam says, “I know. We’ll find him. Don’t worry.”

   “Don’t worry!” Dean says hysterically, “Don’t worry! I’ve been trying not to worry for months, Sam, and who knows what kind of hell he’s been going through in the meantime!”

   Sam takes both of Dean’s arms now, trying to catch his eye. “Dean. We didn’t know. We’re going to help him.”

   Dean nods, and Sam helps him back to the car. He doesn’t remember most of the evening after that.

   It takes them about another two weeks to track down Naomi. Every time Dean tortures an angel for information, he does so a little more violently and Sam looks a little more concerned. Dean doesn’t care. He knows every second counts. Finally, they find an angel who points out the portal to Heaven. It’s on a playground. Fucking ridiculous.

   Apparently, Heaven’s been expecting them. They’re met by a whole cluster of soldiers. A trap, obviously. And probably, it would have worked. Probably, they would have been killed. Except Dean is high on adrenaline, and a flash of light appears from out of nowhere and wipes out half the opposing forces. Before the boys even have time to question it, the battle is through and the last angel stands before them, wearing an insufferable little smirk.

   “You’re too late,” she manages to say, before Dean has time to drive the angel blade through her throat, “See for yourself.” 

   Dean deals with her quickly, only to hear a gasp and a cry from Sam up ahead. “Oh my- DEAN! Dean, come here! You have to see this!”

   Dean shoves the lifeless body of the angel aside, racing to Sam’s side. 

   Before them sits a bassinet. And inside the bassinet is a tiny, blue-eyed angel with just a fuzz of dark hair. A baby.

   He looks completely different, and yet Dean would recognize him anywhere.

   Cas.

Chapter Text

   Dean stands still as a statue, utterly frozen. Sam hesitantly steps forward, reaches into the bassinet, and lifts up the baby, holding him dangling out in front of him. The baby’s face crinkles up and he instantly bursts into tears.

   “No,” Sam says, his voice going high and nervous in the face of the sobbing child, “No no, hey! Hey… it’s okay! It’s okay, we’re here to help you!” 

   Dean stares. The baby’s cries increase in volume. His mouth is so small and pink. He doesn’t have any teeth. He’s absolutely sobbing. Sam’s obviously trying his best. “Shh,” he whispers, trying to pull him in closer as the baby kicks and wails, “Shh shh shhhh baby, shhh, it’s okay!”

   Mechanically, Dean steps forward. Holds out his arms. Sam hands over the baby. Dean pulls him into his shoulder and automatically starts up a rhythm of gentle bouncing, one hand supporting the baby’s bottom, the other gently rubbing his back between his tiny, fuzzy black wings. The baby lets out a sob, then a choking little hiccup, and buries his face into Dean’s shoulder, letting out a quiet whine.

   “I know,” Dean says softly, “I know… look what they’ve done to you. It isn’t fair.”

   The baby sniffles, but he’s calmed considerably. He lets out a small sound that could almost be mistaken for agreement.

   “I’m sorry it took us so long. We had no idea. I wanted to find you. I should have known you needed us. Just didn’t want to believe it.”

   The baby doesn’t respond this time. He’s totally quiet, clinging to Dean with his tiny fists bunched up in his shirt.

   Sam stares at Dean with an open expression of shock. “Wow.”

   Dean scowls at him. “What?”

   “It’s just… you’re really good with him. He calmed for you right away.”

   Dean shrugs, shifting the baby a little higher up on his shoulder. “Yeah, well. I’ve had practice. You weren’t holding him right. Gotta make sure he feels supported.”

   “Yeah,” Sam says, “Right…” He glances around the room, at all the burned out angels. “What are we going to do?”

   “What do you mean?”

   “Cas. He…” Sam gestures helplessly. 

   “He’s Cas,” Dean says, a little more sharply than he means to. “We take him home. Find a way to help him out.”

   “Well, yeah!” Sam agrees instantly, “Yeah, of course! I’m not suggesting we leave him! It’s just… he’s so… how does this even happen?”

   Dean shrugs his free shoulder and sighs. “Hell if I know. But if I ever find that Naomi bitch, she is going to regret the day she was born.”

   “They said they were reprogramming him… You think they did this to erase all his memories?”

   “Presumably,” Dean says, trying not to let the ache that goes through him show on his face. “I mean, he’s a baby. Do babies this small even have memories?”

   Sam shrugs. They’re both quiet for a moment. Cas squirms in Dean’s arms and lets out a little whine. Dean’s attention returns to him.

   “It’s okay, Cas. We’re gonna get you out of here. I promise.” He presses the baby in closer, giving him a gentle squeeze, before waving a hand at Sam. “Start up that portal spell thing. We’ve gotta get going before more of those dickbags get in here.”

   “Right, yeah!” Sam shakes off whatever daze he’s been thrust into and starts saying the words of the spell. The portal glows bright and the two of them step into it, Cas still clutched securely in Dean’s arms.

   As soon as they step into the portal, Cas starts crying, loudly and breathlessly.The trip back to Earth is instantaneous, but the crying doesn’t relent.  

   The air flashes bright white again. It’s getting searingly, painfully hot. Cas’s cries are growing to an ear splittingly high scream, that Dean recognizes not a moment too soon as the same sort of scream that blasted out windows and exploded lightbulbs back on Earth. 

   Dean winces at the explosion of sound and light, shoulders hunching against the pain. Sam clasps his hands over his ears and squeezes his eyes shut tightly. “Cas! CAS! STOP IT! NO!”

   The baby’s cries increase in volume. Dean lifts a hand to swat at Sam’s shoulder. “Would you quit that? He’s already upset!”

   “He’s upset?!”

   “We’ve got to calm him down!” Dean hisses, squinting away from the blinding flash, even as he holds on to its source. “Cas, buddy, shhh…. Shh, shhh… It’s okay. It’s okay, baby! No more scary portal. It’s all done. I’ve got ya.” Despite how sharp and painful the light and sounds radiating off of Cas are, Dean just presses him closer, humming softly and rocking him. “It’s okay… You’re okay. I know, I know, I know…”

   Cas finally stops screaming and the light slowly fades away, revealing the ordinary playground around them. Instead, he’s moved on to quiet sobs, interspersed with choking little hiccups. Dean continues to hush him, bouncing him softly. “Yeah… I know. I hate teleporting too. Always told you that. Makes you feel like shit, doesn’t it? It’s okay, though… You got through it, didn’t you? Yes you did! That’s so brave...”

   Sam winces, visibly shuddering. “You’re telling me all that was him being scared?”

   Dean rolls his eyes. “Of course he’s scared! He’s a baby! He doesn’t even have object permanence and his entire world just changed in a second!”

   “So if he’s a baby and he can get scared so easily, what’s to stop that from happening again?”

   Dean’s gaze hardens. “What exactly is your point?”

   Sam’s shoulders slump and he sighs. “Nothing! It’s just… We’re going to have to find some way to handle this! We don’t know anything about taking care of a baby angel!”

   “And? What do you suggest we do? Leave him with the very same angels that did this to him in the first place?” Dean scoffs, shaking his head as he holds Cas just a bit tighter. “Besides, how different can it be?”

   Sam looks unconvinced, but he shrugs. “I guess maybe there could be a book or something that mentions baby angels back at the Bunker… Or maybe something in one of the tablets?”

   Dean grins, clapping him on the shoulder. “See? There you go! Positive thinking.” Privately, though, he’s not feeling so sure himself. His mind is reeling, heart pounding so hard he’s sure the baby can feel it. His brain strains to even accept that the being in his arms can be both clearly Cas, and so very Not Like Cas at the same time. Cas has always been so strong, so capable... The little creature he’s holding is almost unbearably vulnerable in comparison. Dean knows instinctively that his Cas would Hate this. That only makes Dean hold him tighter. 

   Dean nods for Sam to follow him and they set off for the car, Cas temporarily mollified and clinging wetly to Dean’s shirt again. When they reach the car, Dean automatically starts for the driver’s seat, then pauses reaching for the handle, recognizing the obvious issue there. 

   Sam is watching him carefully. “I can drive,” he offers, clearly walking on eggshells to avoid setting Dean off again, “Or, y’know… hold him, if that’s easier…?”

   Dean doesn’t usually like letting other people drive the Impala, and he bristles at that suggestion, but when Sam mentions the alternative, he finds himself clutching Cas to him tightly, turning his body to keep him away from Sam’s cautiously outstretched hand. “No! I mean… no. I’ve got him. He’s quiet now, we don’t wanna set him off again…” He reaches into his jacket pocket, tossing the keys to Sam. “You’d better take care of her,” he warns Sam. Especially this time… He carries Cas over to the passenger side, climbing in and getting comfortable with the baby in his lap. 

   “Probably for the best,” Sam admits, getting in on the other side of the car. He starts it up, glances in the mirror, then looks over at Dean and frowns. “What’s that look for?”

   Dean has paused in buckling himself in, frowning to himself. “We don’t have any baby gear.”

   Sam blinks. “Baby gear?”

   Dean looks at him incredulously. “Yeah! You know! Baby gear! Toys, food, bottles, crib, high chair, monitor…” He gestures to the space around him, “Car seat!”

   “Ah,” Sam says, glancing around their car, which is definitely not by any means set up to be a haven for an infant, “...Right. I guess… well. You’ll hold him securely and I’ll drive really carefully?”

   “And get pulled over and questioned when someone sees him?”

   Sam shrugs. “You could like, hide him in your jacket or something?”

   “For nine hours?” Dean asks him in disbelief. “We’re going to keep him quiet, still, and hidden for nine hours, and risk him getting killed in a car wreck?”

   “Can he be killed in a car wreck?” Sam asks, making a face as he looks over the smaller version of their friend, “I mean, he is still an angel, right…?”

   “No way we’re gonna risk it,” Dean says immediately, “Look up the nearest store with baby supplies. We need to make a stop, as soon as possible.”

    Sam supposes it shouldn’t surprise him when Dean goes absolutely overboard shopping for Cas at the nearest big chain store that carries baby supplies. He says they’re just there for essentials, but the cart is getting full very quickly, as Dean flits from food to clothes to diapers to toys, throwing in item after item because “trust me, he’ll need it.” Most of the basic things, maybe. But Dean has picked out an awful lot of tiny outfits. And shoes? “Dude, I’m pretty sure he’s too small to be walking at all.”

   “C’mon, Sam! Look at them! They have little dino footprints on the soles!”

   “And the $300 worth of toys?” 

   “It’s not $300!” Dean scoffs, “It’s just a few basics! We need to be able to keep him calm and distracted.”

   “The bouncer?” Sam protests, “That thing’s fuckin’ expensive, Dean!”

   “And it’ll entertain the kid for hours!”

   “Right, but not that many hours, because we’re gonna fix this, right?”

   “Well yeah, but probably not right away! I don’t know if you’ve realized, but babies have a lot of needs!”

   “Apparently so,” Sam mutters. He sighs as Dean spots yet another toy Cas has to have, and goes rushing over to look at it, holding it up to show the baby. It’s going to take a lot of credit card fraud and pool hustling to afford all of this. Still, he has to admit, it is sort of sweet, seeing Dean go all out like this. 

   Hours later, they finally find their way back to the car. Now that they’re properly equipped, the boys spend some time wrestling with the new car seat, until a father in the parking lot takes pity on them, showing them how to set it up and buckle Cas securely inside. Cas has to sit in the backseat, so Dean sits in the back too, talking to him and fussing over him and reading him books as Sam drives them back towards Kansas.

   Cas falls asleep at some point, sucking on one of his new pacifiers. It’s yellow, with a picture of Winnie the Pooh on the button. Sam has to admit, he looks devastatingly adorable, wrapped up in a soft new blanket, a tiny hand clutching Dean’s finger, his cherubic little face all smooth and peaceful. Sam notices Dean staring too, with unspeakable warmth, at least until he slumps over against the side of the car seat, mouth hanging open as sleep takes him as well. Sam pulls over, just for a second, to snap a picture. 

   They have to stop at a motel for the night, since the drive is so long. Dean wakes up when he feels the car slow down. Cas, thankfully, stretches his arms and kicks his legs, but otherwise doesn’t stir. Sam checks in and brings back the keys, and Dean lifts the little bundle up in his arms as carefully as possible to take him inside. “See if you can bring the crib,” he whispers to Sam, bouncing Cas lightly to soothe him as he walks.

   Sam does bring the crib, but it turns out not to matter. Cas wakes up and immediately starts wailing as soon as Dean puts him down. The boys discuss the merits of the “cry it out” philosophy, but it quickly becomes apparent that this isn’t a choice when the baby in question is an angel, and his ‘crying it out’ means the lightbulbs in the room start exploding and the mirror cracks. Dean scoops Cas back up again, and the baby quiets quickly, bunching his hands in his shirt with a vengeance. Sam shrugs at him, and Dean sighs and relents to taking Cas into the bed with him and holding him against his chest.

   Cas’s small body settles against him almost instantly and he lets out a sigh, tiny wings fluttering against the slope of his back. Something about that, the simple acceptance, the instant comfort Cas seems to glean just by being close to him, makes Dean’s chest ache to splitting and his eyes mist up (even if he’d never admit to it). The baby is a small weight against his chest, a warm, soft, breathing thing, and somehow, this helps Dean to settle as well. He falls asleep much easier than usual, cradling Cas against him.

   Dean wakes up a few hours later to crying. He immediately reaches a hand down to the angel on his chest, and feels Cas hiccuping and sobbing, dampening Dean’s shirt. He sighs, rubbing his eyes and getting up from the bed, whispering “Shh, shh, shhhh…” as he rocks the baby in his arms. He glances at the clock as he shifts his weight from foot to foot. 3:35. Great. He’s not exactly sure what the baby needs, but clearly something woke him up. “What’s goin’ on, huh?” he asked him, stroking the angel’s downy wings, “It’s the middle of the night, buddy, can’t it wait a few hours…?” Maybe Dean’s imagining it, but he could swear the screams increase in volume after that suggestion. He sighs. “...Just kidding. What is it? You hungry?” 

   Cas wails again. That doesn’t mean Dean’s wrong, though… He goes to get some formula out of the cooler by the door. Cas doesn’t stop crying, squirming in his arms. “Shh, shh, shhh,” he continues to soothe him, and that’s when he picks up on a telling scent.

   Dean groans. “Aw, c’mon!” he mutters to himself, “In the middle of the night?” The baby chokes out another little cry, and Dean sighs, bending down to tear open a package of diapers one-handed before carrying him over to the motel room’s dresser.

   “Alright…” Dean mutters, “Okay. I get it. I wouldn’t want to keep on sitting in all that either. Don’t worry,” he assures the baby, “We’ll get this sorted.” He knows it’s a little silly to talk to Cas like he can understand him right now, but, well… he’s still Cas. And he almost looks like he understands, the way he stops sobbing quite so hard, looking up at Dean with those wide, trusting blue eyes. 

   Dean is briefly worried that this will be really weird and awkward, but in the end, it isn’t. Dean has changed a lot of diapers in his life. Maybe Cas is normally a fully grown, powerful angel, but right now he’s all baby, in body and in mind, completely unconcerned with what Dean is doing as long as Dean keeps talking to him in that soothing, reserved-for-babies voice. He stares up at him, but with no judgement as Dean opens the diaper, lifts his legs, and pulls it out from under him, only to replace it with the new one a moment later. Dean disposes of the dirty diaper with a wrinkle of his nose, grabs a wipe to clean him, then sticks the new diaper closed, lifting the baby back into his arms again to resume his gentle bouncing motion. “See?” he asks softly, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” The baby coos like he agrees, and Dean’s heart fills up again. It’s kind of stupid, but there’s something about this that’s satisfying- being able to solve Cas’s problems so easily and see the relief that it brings him. Dean was raised to be a hunter, a killer, but he was raised for this too. This is as much a part of him as the guns and classic cars and rock salt are. 

   Dean hums The Beatles as he washes his hands, keeping Cas close in his arms the whole while. Not too long after, the baby is out again, slumped over comfortably against him, tiny mouth hanging open. He looks so sweet like this… so innocent. Dean can’t help but smile, taking the little guy with him back to bed.

   The boys finally arrive back at the Bunker about half a day later, carrying in a very cranky, squirming baby. It’s clear that Cas did not approve of spending so much time in the car, which is unfortunate, considering who his caretakers are. Music did seem to calm him down, a little, until apparently it somehow reached the point of being too much, and started making him cry just as hard as the silence had.

   Sam and Dean are both walking a little slumped over compared to their usual gaits, their eyes glassy with exhaustion. Cas is probably exhausted too. All that crying has to be wearing him out. But that open-mouthed wail he’s letting out tells Dean Cas is also overtired, which means there’s no way putting him in his crib is going to be enough.

   Dean decides to try music again. He starts humming a tune, gently bouncing the baby on his hip. Castiel sobs. 

   Sam sighs. “Isn’t there any way to make him stop?”

   Dean shakes his head. “I don’t know, man. If it was that easy don’t you think I would have done it already?” He strokes the baby’s wings, gently, rhythmically. “It’s okay, Cas… It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re home, see? Back in the Bunker!”

   Oddly enough, that does seem to do it. The baby’s crying softens, and he lets out a little whine.

   Sam blinks. “Was that just…” He turns to face them more directly, bending down to look Cas in the eye. “The Bunker?” he repeats in a higher, saccharine tone, “Do you remember the Bunker, Cas?”

   The baby blinks right back at him, quieting even further. For a moment, he just stares, then very seriously lifts a hand, reaching out and poking Sam right in the face.

   Sam scrunches his face, taking a step back. “What… Hey!” he gasps, though the offense is clearly exaggerated. “Did you just poke me in the face?” He puts his hands on his hips, pretending to be stern, but the smile is clear in his eyes, pulling at his lips. 

   Cas blinks again, then tilts his head back, looking up at Dean, who laughs. “Nice going buddy, you got him!” Now that Cas knows it’s okay, he starts to smile too, a cute, toothless little grin, followed by a giggle.

   Both the boys immediately melt. “Awww!” Sam coos, “Look at that! He’s happy!”

   Dean snorts, though his own smile is so wide it hurts. “We ought to let him poke you in the face more often!”

   Sam rolls his eyes, swatting his brother on the shoulder. “Jerk.” Still, his smile lingers. “I have to admit, he is really cute like this.”

   Dean looks down at Cas, who has settled now, and is making quiet babbling noises, pulling at Dean’s shirt. “He is, isn’t he?” Dean agrees, gaze and smile soft.

   “How old do you think he is?” Sam asks, after a moment of pause. 

   Dean frowns, brow creasing. “Uh… like a gazillion years old, right? Or something like that…”

   Sam rolls his eyes again. “No! Not like… actually how old. Like… how old is he in baby time. His vessel. Now?”

   Dean looks down at Cas again, from his round, chubby cheeks to his tiny little toes. Cas stuffs Dean’s shirt in his mouth. “Uh… I dunno… It’s been a long time since I’ve reviewed developmental milestones… He’s pretty tiny, though. Can’t be too old.”

   “We need to do so much research!” Sam sighs, rubbing at his eyes. 

   Dean shrugs. “Yeah, but I could probably Google that one.” He pulls out his phone and reads for a couple of minutes, continuing to keep up a subtle bouncing motion for the baby as he does so. “Well… he just laughed, and he has the ability to grab things and babble. I’m gonna guess he’s the equivalent of three or four months old?”

   Sam looks up from where he’s been gathering books from the shelves and sets them on a table for a moment, reading a few articles on his own phone. His shoulders slump. “...Crap. This says he’s supposed to eat like, every couple of hours, Dean… How many times has he eaten?”

   Dean looks down at Cas in alarm. “He hasn't wanted to eat! Do you think that’s an angel thing or a sign that something is wrong?”

   “I don’t know!” Sam cries, “I was hoping you would!”

   …And all of a sudden, Cas is crying again.

   There are footsteps down below and Kevin steps into view, rubbing his eyes and frowning. “What are you two yelling about?” he grumbles, only to freeze as he looks up and catches sight of them. “Um- what is that? Why do you have a baby?”

   “His crying seriously didn’t wake you up earlier?” Sam asks.

   “It’s Cas,” Dean explains, without lifting his head from where he’s examining and poking at the baby’s tummy and ribs. 

   Kevin’s eyes go wide. “No!” he gasps, “No way!”

   “Yes way,” Sam says, “Can’t you see it?”

   Kevin hurries up to join them, peering at the squirming baby in Dean’s arms. “I mean, now that you mention it, I can see the resemblance, but…” He catches sight of a fluffy little wing as Cas stretches it out above his shoulder. “Okay, okay! I believe it. It’s just- how did this happen?”

   “You know how we were tracking down Naomi?” Sam asks.

   “She did this? This is angel rehabilitation?” 

   “Apparently so.”

   Dean looks up at them with a spark of panic in his eyes. “Guys, we can talk about that later! Does he look like he’s starving to you?” He holds out the crying baby, and Sam and Kevin shrug helplessly.

   “Angels don’t eat, right?” Kevin asks.

   “Yeah,” Sam says, “But they don’t sleep or poop either.”

   Kevin stares at them. “He… pooped?”

   Dean groans. “Yes! So he must be more human right now, but he still has powers and wings, which are somehow visible, so we have no idea what is happening!”

   Kevin sighs, crossing his arms. “Is anything about baby angels written anywhere?”

   Sam shrugs. “Maybe. Not that we know of. Maybe the tablets?”

   Kevin groans, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I was afraid you might say that…”

   “Kevin, come on!” Dean pleads, holding up the baby again. “He could be starving!” 

   Kevin holds up his hands. “Okay, okay! I'm not gonna starve a baby... I’ll see what I can find. I haven’t seen anything about baby angels before, and it would probably be in the angel tablet we don’t have, but I guess I can look anyway.”

   “Thank you,” Sam says.

   Kevin nods. “You both look awful, by the way,” he comments, “Almost as sleep-deprived as me.”

   “Well, y’know,” Dean mutters, “Babies…”

   “Do you want me to take him for a while so you can get some rest, or…?”

   Sam shakes his head, giving Kevin a warning look, but it’s too late. Dean bristles and glares, immediately turning away from him. “I’ve got it,” he says frostily.

   Sam gives Kevin a helpless look behind Dean’s back.

   “...Ah,” the prophet says. “Okay. Cool… I guess I’ll just go read the tablet, then…”

   “You do that,” Dean mutters.

   “Thanks, Kevin!” Sam adds. Kevin waves at him, already on his way back to his usual table. Sam turns back to Dean. “I’ll look through the library and see what I can find.”

   Dean nods, though he doesn’t look at Sam. His eyes are still fixed on Cas. “I’ll join you in a minute… I’m gonna calm him down and try to feed him again.”

   “Good, yeah, just… don’t panic, okay?” He puts a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I’m sure he’s fine. We’re going to figure this out.”

   “Yeah,” Dean says, “Right,” But he still rushes out of the room like he’s on fire.

   Sam sighs again, taking just a moment to sit down at one of the tables and bury his face in his hands. They are so in over their heads. “I just wish someone was here who knows angels,” he muttered to himself. Unhelpfully, the first face that springs to mind is Castiel’s, but the grown-up version. Unless they can find some other angel who would work with them rather than against them, it looks like they’re on their own.