#slight lang

It was… a baby. A baby. A beautiful baby boy, maybe not more than a year old, with electric blue eyes and dark curly hair. He had rosy and fluffy-looking cheeks and he was just staring at you, eyes still slightly damp. The way the baby was staring at you, so intensely and wide-eyed, had you dropping the knife on the floor with a clang and just pick him up.

Whilst in a staring contest with the baby, you finally had the sense to wake the brothers up. “Sam! Dean! Wake up, we have a problem.” The boys jumped and groaned, sitting up on their respective places. You still couldn’t figure out how they slept through all that screaming. “Guys, wake up!”

Sam gained his bearings first and was just staring at you and the baby you held in your arms. “Uh…” was the only thing he could say. Where the hell did you get that baby?

“Ugh, Y/N,” Dean groaned, “it’s still early, what are you—…” His words died out as he spotted the baby, face mirroring his baby brother’s exactly.

“Okay,” you started, bouncing the little human in your arms, “first of all, I have no idea where this little guy came from—he was just on the floor, crying.” The baby suddenly raised his tiny and chubby arms and began playing with your face and hair. You had to admit, it was kind of cute, and brought a small smile to your face. “Secondly, I cannot understand how you two were able to sleep through his crying, and thirdly,” you shifted a bit to cradle the baby in one arm and pointed with the other to the pile of fabric on the floor, “can someone check what’s under there?”

Dean, who was closest to the pile, moved immediately, crouching low and straightening the fabric one by one. The thing that initially covered the kid was actually a trench coat. You felt your eyebrows pull together. Could it be?

The older Winchester set aside the coat and held up a white polo, followed by a blue necktie, and then matching black slacks and a blazer. All that’s left of the pile was a pair of shoes.

The three of you had your suspicions, and you were fairly sure that you were thinking the same thing. You looked at the child with the shining blue eyes and whispered, “Cas?”

The baby giggled.

“What the fuck?” Dean shouted, hurriedly straightening from his crouched position and rushing to you and the baby Angel. “Cas?” The baby in question turned to him, spreading his arms, as if demanding Dean to carry him. Dean carefully obliged, and Castiel just… melted into him, resting his cheek on Dean’s shoulder, arms spread against the Hunter’s chest. Dean gingerly patted the baby’s back.

You and Sam just watched, genuinely surprised that Baby Cas took such a swift liking to Dean. The Hunter turned to both of you. “What?” he asked, genuinely puzzled at your gazes.

“Nothing,” you said, shaking your head innocently. “Just… It looks like Cas is claiming you as his dad, Dean.” You couldn’t help the grin on your face. It was just so cute, seeing a baby Angel cradled in the arms of one of the most fearsome Hunters you knew.

Surprise etched itself on Dean’s face, and he sputtered out, “W-well, what about you? Did you see the way Cas was playing with you? And how he giggled when you said his name?” When Dean said “giggle”, Cas laughed, a sweet tinkling noise. The Hunter’s face reddened. “Anyway, you’re officially designated as Mom until we can figure out how to turn Cas back.”

You shook your head, smiling. You weren’t really opposed to the idea—hell, you were actually excited. It’d been a while since you got to babysit—granted, this time the baby was actually an Angel, but still. And Cas seemed like a good and behaved child, so it should be no problem.

“Fine,” you conceded, going over to Dean and coaxing Baby Castiel back into your arms. “If I’m going to be the mom, you have to do the shopping for Cas’s things.” You bounced Cas around and smiled when he flashed you a toothless grin. You looked at Sam, who still hasn’t spoken a word since he woke up. “Get to researching on this, Uncle Sam,” you teased with a grin.

Sam just gave you his signature bitch face and went to fetch his laptop.

You were regretting what you said about Castiel seeming like a behaved kid around three hours into the day.

The three of you discovered that morning that Cas was fully capable of crawling and standing up on his own. Which was good for him, and it looked really cute whenever he would just wobble on his feet. So yeah, good for him. But not for you three.

See, while Castiel couldn’t really walk yet, he was very much adept at holding onto things, pulling things, and putting random items into his mouth. For example, you left him alone with Sam for around five minutes (to freshen yourself up), and when you came back, he was already clutching the cable of the big lug’s laptop’s charger and was about to pull it into his mouth if you hadn’t stopped him.

Another instance was with John Winchester’s journal. Dean had been looking through it for a possible explanation of why Castiel was suddenly a baby, when said Angel grabbed the rosary hanging from the binding of the journal, and dragged it down. Approximately three things happened after that: (1) The mug spilled its contents all over the table and Dean’s lap, (2) Dean swore and stood up too quickly, accidentally jabbing his knee on the underside of the table and he swore again, and (3) when the journal fell, it hit Castiel on the head, eliciting a cry from the little winged baby. You’d managed to calm him down with an ice pack on this head and some baby formula, although that took a long time (and by long, you meant long).

Cas was sleeping peacefully now, nestled in a blanket and the fluffiest pillows you could find. Despite Cas’s energy, it was surprisingly easy to put him to sleep. You were worried, though, that he might wake up too soon, what with all the noises in the motel room.

“Hey, Y/N, I think I got it,” Sam whispered. He had been researching for hours, only getting up a handful of times to go to the bathroom.

You treaded silently to the table he was at and propped one hand on it to lean on. “What’d you get?”

“Remember that Witch we were looking for? The one that led us here in the first place?”

“Yeah, thank God we finally ganked that son of a bitch.” You shuddered at the memories of all the corpses he left behind, relieved that he was gone now.

“Yeah, about that. Apparently, it’s a spell that turned Cas this way. It’s a really high-level spell, and that Witch was powerful enough to do almost anything.” Sam looked at you pointedly.

“You’re saying he cast the spell on Cas?” you asked, incredulous. “When did he do that?”

“I don’t know.” Sam shook his head. “There must be a hex bag hidden here somewhere, or,” he pointed at something on the laptop screen, “a mark somewhere on the victim, ‘written in the blood of the Spell Caster’,” he read.

You looked at the sleeping Angel, who seriously looked like such a sweetheart when he slept. “I think I saw something on Cas’s back earlier, but I can’t be sure.” You turned to Sam. “I’ll check when he wakes up. Meanwhile,” you straightened up and stretched out your arms, “I’m gonna follow Cas’s lead and take a nap. Tell Dean to wake me up when he gets back?” With a nod from Sam, you padded over to the little nest on your bed and made yourself comfortable next to Cas.

When Dean got back from a food run with arms filled with bags of fast food for you three and baby food for Castiel, the first thing he saw was the adorable sight of you sleeping peacefully beside the baby Angel. An arm was curled under your head, and the other covered Cas’s small frame protectively. Cas had turned in his sleep to face you, a tiny hand placed possessively on your neck.

He carefully and quietly went over to Sam (who was sleeping at the table) and laid out all the stuff he got. Every sound the plastic bags and paper made had him looking at the two sleeping people on the bed. Dean gently tapped Sam’s shoulder to wake him up, silently gesturing for him to eat something. With a quiet groan, Sam obliged.

Dean went over to you and Cas, carefully settling himself behind you and putting a hand on your shoulder. “Y/N,” he whispered, leaning in close you your ear. “Hey, kid, wake up.” You groaned softly, shifting your weight a bit before you stopped moving, realizing that Cas had snuggled up beside you. Dean let out a low chuckle. “Don’t worry, I got ‘im. Go eat something.”

You slowly sat up, watching if Cas would wake, and traded places with Dean. Castiel fidgeted and shifted a bit when Dean made to lie down beside him, but otherwise didn’t wake. You stood up and smiled when you saw Dean immediately wrap an arm around Baby Cas and settle in.

It was quiet as you and Sam ate, just watching the boys on the bed. A few minutes after you finished, Castiel woke up. You couldn’t really tell at first because he was so quiet. But then it seemed like Dean tickled his neck or something and he giggled—the cutest little sound. Dean sat up and bounced Cas on his lap, and you came over and sat next to them.

Sam stayed where he was. His laptop was open, but he couldn’t stop watching you and Dean and the baby. Well, it was technically Cas, but it was a nice picture—you three looked like a happy family, looked like people who led a normal, apple pie life. Sam knew that it was something Dean wanted; he wanted it, too, but he knew that they could never have that. They could never settle down. Never have kids. This was as close as they could get.

“You know,” Sam said, his voice cutting through Cas’s giggles and Dean’s laughter, “you guys make nice parents.” You and Dean just looked at each other and then at Sam, eyebrows scrunched up, as if saying, Really, Sam?

“What?” he said, shrugging. “I’m serious. You guys know your way around taking care of a kid.” He couldn’t help the smile on his face.

“Yeah, yeah, all right, Sam,” you said, taking Cas from Dean and hugged him to you, swaying as you spoke. “Tell Dean what you found.” You started humming, keeping it on a low volume as Sam told Dean about the possible hex bag the Witch snuck in or the mark he wrote on Cas.

“Search the room?” Dean suggested. When Sam nodded, they both stood up and began searching the room for hex bags. You, meanwhile, checked Castiel, looking for any smudge or streak that could have possibly been put there by the Witch.

You rucked up the small blue t-shirt Castiel was wearing, examining his chest and tummy area. When you didn’t find any, you pulled down the front and pulled up the back, gasping at what you saw.

Elaborate black lines and swirls covered the upper part of Cas’s back. The weird tattoo looked like a pair of wings, starting from two points near his spine and then branching outwards, as if they were unfurling, trying to break free of the canvas that was Cas’s skin and just fly him off into the clouds. They were beautiful, and you wondered briefly where the tattoo-like-birthmark-thing went with his current vessel. On the occasional glimpse that you got of Castiel’s bare back, you never saw anything like this. You made a mental note to ask him about it when you finally got him back to normal.

Other than the wings though, you didn’t see any weird looking mark. You also checked his arms and hands, and his legs and feet, but saw nothing. There wasn’t anything either on his face and neck.

“No mark on Cas, guys,” you called to the brothers, who were still fussing about the room and digging around every drawer and bag they could find.

“Nothing here,” Sam whispered, making his way over to you and the baby Angel. You caught Dean’s eyes, and he shook his head.

You thought hard. Where could that hex bag be? It wasn’t like he could just slip it on Cas’s person during—

“His clothes,” you whispered, the realization hitting you. “Guys, check Cas’s clothes, his pockets.”

Sam immediately went to search Castiel’s clothes (still in a pile on the couch, for whatever reason), but Dean said, “You think the son of a bitch snuck it in?”

You shrugged, Castiel fidgeting in your arms, wanting to be carried the right way, so you stood up, swaying and rocking him so he wouldn’t make a fuss. “Only thing I can think of.” Dean sighed, but it quickly turned into a grin when Sam triumphantly held up a green hex bag in one hand.

You smiled, relieved that Cas could return to normal. But you couldn’t help the twinge of sadness balling up inside you. You were gonna miss caring for the little rug rat. “Well, what do you know, Cas?” you whispered to him. “You’re gonna get back to normal.” Raising a finger, you lightly tickled his neck, and heard his cute little giggle before a bright light emanated from him, and you promptly let go of him to shield your eyes.

When next you opened them, the first thing you saw was a very naked Angel of the Lord and covered up your eyes again, whilst telling Cas to get dressed and laughing a bit. You dropped your arms to your sides when you were absolutely sure that Castiel had all his layers on.“Sam, Dean,” were the first things he said. “Thank you for helping me when I turned into an infant. I appreciate it greatly.” Castiel turned to you and captured you in an embrace. You were still, unsure how to react. Eventually, though, you returned the hug, holding onto him tightly. “Thank you, Y/N.”