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Dean knows he’s gonna sound insane for this, but taking care of a baby isn’t nearly as hard as he remembers.
Maybe it’s because his experience is nearly-entirely limited to when he was four and was trying to take care of Sam alone for the first time, and changing diapers and taking care of a six-month-old is really hard when you’re not big enough to reach the counter yourself, but right now, at thirty-seven years old and taking care of a Nephilim, the kid’s actually not too bad.
Jack’s warm and solid in Dean’s arms, and fifteen pounds is so much easier to carry now that Dean’s big enough to be able to.
He kept telling himself that Jack, when he was born, was going to be the Son of Lucifer. Devil-spawn, some evil little monster-angel that killed his mother and then killed everyone else.
But, even though Dean’s heart feels like it’s breaking every time he thinks about Cas and the fact that he’s not here, killed because he was a goddamn idiot, even though Dean should hate the son of Lucifer, he can’t find it in himself to do anything but take care of this baby.
Sam tried to take care of him. Dean could see it, from the moment that Jack appeared, in his brother’s face: Sam wanted to take care of the baby.
That did not work out. Sam is very, very bad with babies. He’s bad with normal children already, but within a hour of Dean begrudgingly giving Jack to his little brother, Sam was dragging his feet into Dean’s room asking if Dean knew why he was crying.
Turns out that Sam gets stressed out to the point of absurdity and his weird hand-flapping panic attacks if a baby cries. Went great for half an hour, then Jack started crying, Sam desperately tried and failed to make it better, it didn’t work, so he’s essentially relinquished all parental duties to Dean.
Who, three months in, doesn’t really mind.
For all that Sam makes his jokes, Dean really does like kids. He really is good with them. His entire life was built around raising Sam, to be fair - they’ve only ever spent four years apart willingly, when Sam went to Stanford - but he just… he likes kids.
Babies aren’t even that bad. Especially now that he’s older and not a baby trying to take care of another younger baby.
Taking care of Jack is simple. He needs food, he needs to be clean and changed regularly, he needs sleep, and he needs someone. Just… a person to carry him around, be white noise and a warm body and safety as Jack exists as a helpless potato of a tiny person.
Honestly, despite being half-angel, Jack is a normal baby in everything but how Dean feels better when he holds him. He’d thought it was just the baby being rejuvenating or some crap, but then he got a paper cut and picked up Jack and it was healed.
So… the baby is a normal baby in everything except that he magically heals whoever holds him.
(Dean thinks. Sam’s been so terrified of holding Jack that he’s been ducking out so often that Dean is, once again, reminded of John.
He hasn’t said that. He hasn’t said a lot of things, like how much he desperately misses Cas. But that’s fine. Dean’s good at keeping things to himself.)
Dean’s not sure if it’s just him that Jack heals or other people. Dean’s been the only person to hold him and take care of him since he was first handed Jack by Sam.
He doesn’t mind. He’s… almost retired from hunting, at this point, honestly. Sam goes out with Eileen, Dean stays home to take care of Jack.
Dean’s adapted. Weirdly well. He likes cooking. He likes watching his shitty TV shows. He spends his time doing that, usually with Jack strapped to his chest and being his co-cook or him taking a nap while Dean watches Doctor Sexy. Dean showers when the baby sleeps, he sleeps when the baby sleeps, and the rest of the time, he just goes about his normal day with Jack.
It’s almost nice.
Except for nights like tonight.
Mostly because Jack is hitting a growth spurt and that means that he’s hungry constantly.
Which means that a very-tired, mildly-annoyed Dean is carrying a wriggling, wailing baby to the kitchen mumbling ‘I know, buddy, I got it, I gotcha’ and trying to blink the weariness from his eyes.
-
Castiel did not think that being annoying would ever save his life, yet here he is.
Somehow, after an indeterminate stretch of time that was incredibly long, the Empty became sick of Castiel being annoying enough that he would not go to sleep and instead constantly talked. As a result, Castiel has magically reappeared on Earth once more, alive only because the primordial god of the void became so sick of him that it was willing to do anything to get him out, including let him go.
When Castiel went back home to the Winchester’s bunker, he was worried.
Jack was his responsibility, to put it simply. His son. And the Nephilim was born not only without Castiel, but he was immediately brought into a world with Sam and Dean there as the only options to follow and be safe.
As much as Castiel loves the Winchester brothers, he fears that they would not make good parents to an angelic child. Not in the same way Castiel would be a good parent. For all he knows, they have been struggling to even contain the Nephilim and the sheer scale of his power.
Which is part of why it is so strange and disconcerting that, upon arriving and slipping into the bunker, Castiel is not greeted with the typical young-adult, physically-grown powerful Nephilim that he expects.
Upon walking inside, letting himself in, Castiel does not find shattered lightbulbs, the mess of feathers of a mismanaged first molt, the marks of a wild grace chained into a half-human soul.
He walks in, and is immediately greeted with the echoing, diminishing cries of an infant along with Dean’s voice.
Castiel’s heart clenches to the point that he feels as he did when he once soared among the clouds as he slowly walks up the stairs to the kitchen where the sound has settled.
What he sees is hardly recognized as a man attempting to keep a rogue Nephilim - the Son of Lucifer, in fact - from destroying the world.
Dean is wearing a too-big bathrobe over his pajamas, the shirt half-undone. His feet have one sock on them, his hair is sticking up in every which direction, and he looks exhausted where he sits at the small dining table in the kitchen. But most notably is that Dean’s arms are full of an infant, hands balled into fists but relaxing as Dean gently bounces him and hums ‘Traveling Riverside Blues’ as he holds the bottle and feeds him.
Castiel stands in the doorway for a long moment, just watching. Dean, normally observant, does not notice, likely either due to focus on Jack or due to exhaustion from parenting.
It is extraordinarily clear, watching Dean: where Castiel had feared that Jack would be alone and unwell without him, he is instead so loved by this man that he has ignored his grace in favor of simply being a beloved human infant. It is still there, but muted, Jack clearly capping it in order to keep from accidentally harming Dean.
Jack loves Dean so much that he is choosing to be human, be a Winchester, and looking at Dean take care of Jack, it is very clear that this is partially, if not mostly, because Jack sees Dean as his parent. Jack loves Dean so much that he is already choosing humanity, and that is because Dean loves Jack so much.
Castiel knows Dean’s capacity for love. He overflows with it, every decision made due to love, every tear shed, mistake made, good deed done - all because he loves so simply, so much. It is part of why Castiel himself, despite being a Seraph, disobeyed God and chose humanity - because Dean loves so much and so genuinely that Castiel, an angel, fell in love with the mortal man who represents humanity due to the pureness of his heart.
Yet Castiel is… overwhelmed.
He stands there too long, because Dean notices him - not because he shifts, or breathes, or does anything to give himself away, but because Dean is indeed observant and, as Jack’s small hands wrap around the bottle, Dean snaps up and locks eyes with him.
He looks exhausted, yet happy, a combination of dark circles and tired eyes and a bone-deep satisfaction written on his face like runes.
That face changes when he sees Castiel, going from shocked to something approaching grief. “...Cas?”
“Dean.” Castiel manages.
When Dean doesn’t move to welcome him, instead reaching for his pocket for some kind of weapon, it occurs to Castiel that the Winchester’s world revolves around the supernatural, and without hesitation, he walks to the drawer he knows is there and grabs the silver knife with one hand while dipping the other in holy water, turning and showing his perfectly-unburned hands to Dean before drying the one off.
“You- you were dead.” Dean chokes, already on his feet, already barreling towards Castiel, already wrapping an arm around him and keeping the baby steady even as he hugs Castiel like a bear. “You were gone, man-”
“I’m sorry.” Castiel says genuinely, hugging him back without a moment of hesitation - the only hesitation comes upon resting a hand against Jack’s back, and that is simply because he does not wish to intrude. “I came home as soon as I could.”
Dean makes a choked sound at that, and Castiel hesitates this time, but he carefully extracts Jack to hold him with one arm while hugging a rapidly-crumbling Dean with the other.
Castiel is normally very careful to maintain boundaries and protect the space between them, not willing to risk his family in the form of the Winchesters due to the confusing feelings that refuse to die or quiet.
But holding the man that he loves, holding the child that he’s been raising while Castiel has been gone, after so long alone, Castiel allows himself to press his lips against Dean’s temple and whisper, ‘Thank you for taking care of our son.’