Nephilim

"I need liver wormwood," Castiel adds to Sam's list.

Sam writes it down, between silver bullets and milk.

"What's liver wormwood?" Dean asked Bobby after he rattled off the rest of the supplies Bobby would be delivering to them from God

knows where.

"Damned if I know. I'll find it."

"Who wants liver wormwood?" Dean said, "That sounds like shit."

Bobby called, and Sam picked up the phone. "It's a helluva nasty piece of work, used for a potion that can kill monster children in the

womb. Humans can't survive it though."

Sam blinked. "Okay?" He asked. "What?"

"Dean asked."

"What's a monster abortion potion ingredient doing on our supplies list?" Sam asked.

"Who's there?" Dean replied.

Two hours later, while they were driving down to Massachusetts, Sam slammed the breaks. Dean's head jerked forward with the snap of

whiplash, and the Impala screamed. "Castiel asked for the liver wormwood," Sam said.

Dean stared. "So?"

"So?" Sam gestured like it was obvious.

Dean waited.

"So, you're sleeping with Cas! He wants abortion juice! Use your head, Dean!"

Dean laughed. "Sammy," he exclaimed, "Sammy, Sammy, Sammy." He clamped his hands of Sam's shoulder. "Castiel is what is referred to

as an 'angel'. A male angel."

"Angels don't have gender, Dean," Sam said sharply.

Dean blinked. "And you didn't ever mention that during my gay crisis?"

"Cas is pregnant," Sam said.

"I am a human! Cas is an angel!"

Sam lifted an eyebrow. " And?"

"And we're not having kids, Sam!"

"There are records of half-human, half-angel beings as far back as Genesis. The Watcher angels, or something, mated with humans and

had giants," Sam explained.

Someone behind them beeped.

Sam started the car, looking for a place to turn around. "We have to find Cas."

"Cas is not having my monster baby," Dean said stoically.

"Are you having a baby?" Sam asked, crossing his arms as he looked down at Castiel. "Specifically, Dean's?"

Castiel leaned back in the motel chair and looked at Dean, who was watching intently from a bed. "Have no fears," Castiel said in a low

tone, "the infection shall soon be removed."

Dean jumped to his feet, true horror in his face. "What does that mean?"

"I was aware of this possibility when we first began relations," Castiel said, "I am mentally prepared for this." Sam stepped back.

"You're pregnant? With my kid?"

"With a Nephilim," Castiel said slowly, "I am not physically able, nor willing to carry and birth a giant."

"You should have said something first!" Dean growled, "Why didn't I know this could happen?"

"I assumed Anna informed you when-"

Dean stomped forward, grabbing the collar of Castiel's trench coat. "You are not doing this!"

"Nephilim are abominations!" Castiel looked into Dean's face, confused. "We could never raise it. You would be forced to hunt it before it

was two months old."

"But it's a baby, Cas! Ours!"

Castiel frowned. "Dean, this is an unholy, wretched being. There is no way of knowing what horrible traits this mix of ethereal and earthly

beings possesses. Some are nineteen feet tall, some have six fingers and toes, some drink human blood, some-"

Dean's hands curled into fists. "You could have told me about this! How many times did... did..."

"This is the first." Castiel blinked at Dean. "I will eradicate-"

"No!" Dean shouted, "Let's talk about this!"

Sam looked around, but the only place where he could escape from this conversation was the bathroom. He fucked inside there anyways.

Castiel said, slowly, "Don't you know what a Nephilim is?"

Dean shrugged it off. "Of course, it's a human and angel baby, I don't see why it's bad."

Castiel sat down on one of the beds. "Come," he said, "I'll explain."

Dean growled, annoyed at being commanded, but did anyways. He sat on the other bed, staring across the short space at Castiel.

"What?" He snapped.

"Nephilim are monsters, worse then any you've ever fought before," Castiel said darkly, a shadow of something terrible in his eyes, "it

takes legions of men and dozens of angels to kill them. They are giants, freaks, mixtures of the natural and the supernatural that should

not exist. There has never been a good Nephilim."

"But," Dean began.

"Not as long as the world has existed, Dean," Castiel repeated, "never." Castiel looked at his hands, and then focused his eyes back into

Dean's. "What I-"

Castiel froze, his voice catching. He turned, coughing into his hands.

"Cas," Dean said softly.

"What I have created cannot be allowed to survive," Castiel declared, his expression and voice much too stoic, "a Nephilim born of an

angel, and not a human woman, is even worse than... I cannot allow this thing to exist any longer. It is already taking its toll on me and...

" Castiel shifted. "This is a beast that I allowed to live for much too long out of pity." As if convincing himself, Castiel repeated a long

remembered lesson, "Nephilim are lonely, blood thirsty, vile, abandoned, violet, ugly, monsters."

"Does it have to be lonely?" Dean asked.

Castiel scrutinized Dean. "The Nephilim are monsters-"

"So what? No one's tried to raise one before?" Dean asked, expecting another rebuke. But Castiel just looked at Dean, frowning. "Haven't

they?"

"No one's bothered," Castiel replied. "It's a Nephilim."

"I." Dean glared at everything, reached up like he was about to tear out his hair, and muttered under his breath, "I need air."

He left, slamming the door of the motel as he did.

"He's very angry," Castiel observed.

"You think?" Sam asked. "I wonder why. I wonder, why in the hell would Dean be angry? Fuck, I'm angry, Cas." Sam sat down on one of

the beds. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"You don't know what you're asking me to consider," Castiel said without turning around.

"You could explain it to us."

Dean leaned against the wall of the building, looking vaguely out in the city square. For a small town, this place was rather busy, but the

square seemed to be the only hub of activity. The movie theater and small cafe's nearby probably helped the tiny, poorly kept patch of

grass be popular. There weren't enough places like this. Places where everyone knew everyone's name, and everyone could just walk

outside and find someone, somewhere, to talk with. Dean liked small towns.

He felt a rush of air and heard the flapping of wings. "Cas," Dean said, keeping his eyes on a group of laughing preteens shivering in the

winter air.

"Dean," Castiel said deeply.

"You don't want this, right?" Dean began.

"I can explain," Castiel offered.

Dean shook his head. "No." He sighed, adjusting his position against the city building. "You're the one who has to go through with it. You

don't want a baby, and for fuck's sake I can't raise one right now. I'm crazy to consider it. I was just a bit freaked out."

Castiel nodded. He followed Dean's gaze, but Dean was looking nowhere in particular. It was a cold day in mid December, decorations

were being set up at a fast pace so the workers could run inside a cafe for hot chocolate, and the only ones lingering outside were the

loitering group of preteens and a young couple looking at the sights.

"It's a stupid idea, right?" Dean asked Cas.

"No," Castiel replied, "if the child were not what it was, I would consider its life. But it is Nephilim."

"Shut up about the 'Nephilim' crap, okay? It doesn't have to-" Dean swallowed and turned away. "Where is that 'liver wordwort' or

whatever?"

"It is wormwood picked after a long rain, when the root comes gently out of a wet soil," Castiel answered in a matter-of-fact tone. "I have

to consume it, or my ethereal body will accept the Nephilim whether or not I desire it to."

"There's a deadline?" Dean asked as his gaze was distracted by a solitary pigeon.

"I already waited six days," Castiel answered.

Dean's fists clenched and then unclenched. "You didn't bother to mention this for six days?"

Castiel looked at the ground, and then at Dean. He mirrored Dean's stance against the wall, leaning with his back, arms folded, and he

turned his head to look darkly into the distance. "I created a Nephilim, Dean," he said.

"We've established that," Dean replied sharply.

"I didn't want you to know," Castiel answered. His deep voice wavered for a moment.

"Why not?" Dean asked, "You already know everything about me, and I know everything about you."

Castiel stood up, stiff and calculating. "Dean," he said, "doesn't this..."

"What?" Dean pressed. They finally locked gazes. Dean frowned and said, "Cas, you don't think that I could ever... God!" Dean ran a hand

through his hair.

` Castiel's eyes widened. "What!"

"No, no, just," Dean placed his hand on Castiel's shoulder. "I'm not upset that this happened, I mean, if we have to kill it that will suck,

really, really bad, but Cas," Dean swallowed, "I mean, you and I..." He sighed. "I'm not good at this."

"What?" Castiel asked.

"Look, Cas, if we actually, by some slim chance, survive this Apocalypse and manage to have a kid that isn't a giant monster of evil, I reall

y wouldn't mind," Dean attempted.

"But we have to kill the Nephilim," Castiel said strongly as his hands shook.

"I guess," Dean replied, frowning, "if that's what we have to do."

"I can't accept it," Castiel began, his eyes wide, "you don't know what you are asking, Dean, I cannot accept this child and let it hinge to

my bodies."

"I'm not asking you to."

"But I can't do it, do you have any idea? And once I doit there is no way I can stop it! Three months of bearing it, Dean, and then I have t

o bring it forth!Do you have any idea what I would go through? And then what if it is a monster? What if it's a true Nephilim? Are we just

going to have to kill it? DAMN IT I HATE EMOTIONS!" Castiel shouted. He slammed his hand into the rock wall behind him, the wall crackin

g and denting under his force.

"Cas," Dean whispered.

"Don't," Castiel muttered, "don't. Let me think for a moment." Castiel pressed his forehead against the cold wall. He closed his eyes. Dean

waited for a long time, tossing a pebble around with his feet. Eventually, Castiel asked, "If I did this, if we tried to make a good Nephilim,

you would take care of me?"

"Do you honestly think I wouldn't?"

Castiel looked at Dean, his face still pressed against the wall. "It would not be an easy task."

"When has anything," Dean said almost bitterly, "everbeen easy?"

Castiel shrugged. Stepping forward, he pulled his trench coat closer around his shoulders. "Perhaps," Castiel said deeply, "the possibility

of this child... outweighs the probability of its darkness?"

"Huh?"

Castiel swallowed and looked at his hands. "I'll do it," Castiel told Dean, "if you also want this."

Dean sighed. He glanced at the sky and then back at Castiel. "The kid, it won't be normal, will it?"

"No. It will be a monster," Castiel answered.

"A giant?"

"Most likely," Castiel said apprehensively.

"Six hands and antlers?"

"Antlers? Not likely," Castiel said.

Dean rubbed his face with his hands. "I don't know, Cas, I don't know what we should do."

"I'm sorry, Dean, I wish this hadn't happened I tried to stop it I tried but-"

"Quiet, Cas. Everything is going to be fine." Dean reached out and took Castiel's hand in his own. "I mean, every parent is scared, right?

Probably?"

"I don't know," Castiel replied.

"Cool," Dean swallowed.

"This child," Castiel replied, "if we kill him now he will not suffer."

Dean slammed his fists into the wall. "Damn it, Cas," Dean growled as Castiel flinched, "don't say that!"

"What?" Castiel stared nervously.

"'He'," Dean said softly, "don't say 'he'."

"I don't know if it is male or female, I won't know until I accept it," Castiel explained.

"I just never," Dean said, "I never thought of myself as the family man type. I'm sort of, I'm a hunter, Cas. I will always be a hunter. I

don't want my kids to grow up like Sammy and I did, and... and what kind of time is the Apocalypse for having..? Not to mention, you're a

guy and-"

"I'm an angel," Castiel said simply.

"That's not," Dean gritted his teeth in frustration. "Maybe we should think about this."

"There's a deadline," Castiel said.

Dean growled, "That's just typical!" He paced a few feet away, and turned around and demanded, "When do we have to decide?"

"I have four days before the Nephilim is accepted." Castiel looked at his hands. "I can't..." He stepped directly in front of Dean, looking

straight into Dean's eyes. "I can't make this decision. Give me an order."

"No," Dean said.

There was the flapping of wings and a rush of air, and Castiel was gone.

Dean had half of a bacon cheeseburger stuffed in his mouth, was loading cheese fries with ketchup, and twirling the straw of an Oreo

milkshake with his free hand when Castiel appears in the booth beside Sam and nearly overturns Sam's sandwich. Dean sputtered and

coughed and nearly threw up his burger.

"Nice, Dean," Sam said darkly. Sam moved over so he and Cas fit better on their side.

Dean somehow managed to swallow. "Cas," he choked.

Castiel inclined his head in Dean's direction. He looked straight at Dean. "You have left the decision up to me, then?" Castiel asked.

"Which decision?" Sam asked.

Dean and Castiel stared stoically at each other, food and concern forgotten.

"Wait? The baby decision?" Sam asked. "This is seriously how you two are deciding this? Do you realize how dysfunctional you are?"

Pointedly ignoring Sam, Dean said, "You're the one who has to have it. You decide."

Castiel looked like he'd been punched in the stomach. Dropping his eyes the the table, he asked, "And whatever I decide, it will not

change the feelings of our relationship?"

Sam smirked, and Dean looked at Sam and rolled his eyes. "No," Dean said, "of course not."

"Do not," Castiel mumbled, "do not be angry with me."

"Cas," Dean reached across the table for him, but Castiel shook his head and refused the hand.

"I have decided," Castiel said, not relishing those words like he normally would. "I have decided that, should the Nephilim exhibit any

murderous, vicious, bloodthirsty-"

Sam shifted awkwardly in his seat.

"-monstrous, sacrilegious, excessively sinful, or utterly inhumane tendencies, it shall be destroyed."

Dean blinked. "So, you're... oh my God." Dean grasped his hair with his hand.

Castiel's eyes widened. "What? Oaths are-"

"Cas," Sam said, "did you, are you going to..."

Dean and Sam looked at each other.

"Wow," Dean breathed out. "You and I are..." He blinked.

"Gay dads," Sam filled it.

"Shut," Dean snapped.

Sam leaned his head back and laughed. "Congratulations," he said, slapping Castiel on the back. "I am genuinely, excessively, happy for

you. How do you want to celebrate?"

Castiel blinked as if the thought had never occurred to him, which it most likely didn't. "Celebrate?"

"Well, we'll have to skip a celebratory beer," Sam said, and he grinned. "I'm an uncle now. A crazy, weird, uncle of a Nephilim, but..."

"Just enjoy the moment, Sam," Dean said. And he took a deep drink from his milkshake.

Castiel frowned and, setting his hands on the table, said, "I have to concentrate. I should accept the child as quickly as possible."

"Doesn't mean you can't relax," Dean said, smiling, "come on, Cas, what do you want? Anything."

Castiel thought. Then he leaned across the table and took one of Dean's French fries. "I want to sleep with you," Castiel said, "tonight."

Sam coughed and stared out at the sun.

"Okay," Dean replied, he winked at Cas, who turned his head slightly. Castiel still never fully understood the meaning behind a wink.

Castiel looked at Dean.

Dean took a bite of his burger, and noticed Castiel's gaze. "Wait," Dean said and then he paused, thinking for a long moment before

asking, "Now?"

"Now would be preferable," Castiel replied.

Dean dropped his food. "Meet you back at the motel, Sammy," he said.

"Yeah," Sam said, "I think I'll spend the night in town."

"Suit yourself."

Dean took Castiel's hand as they walked out of the parking lot, trying very hard to keep a manly, purposeful, straight step when he felt

like he was going to explod. Because DAMN they were having a baby, and who the fuck cared if it was stupid it or not, it was there's.

Dean jumped in the front seat of the car, and Castiel appeared beside him. "How far is the motel?" Castiel asked.

"Twenty minutes," Dean answered as he turned the Impala on and slowly backed out of the driveway, because the fuckers next to him

hard parked too close for comfort. His balance lurched, and Dean cursed out loud when Castiel grabbed his rig hand off the wheel. "Cas!"

Dean said, surprised.

Castiel looked at Dean, and wrapped his two hands around Dean's hand. "This is not easy," Castiel said, " I just... I need you.". Castiel let

Dean's hand fall to his lap. Dean squeezed reassuringly.

"It'll be alright.". They were on the road. "You and I," Dean said, "we'll make it work. And, sure, timing sucks, but we'll just have to deal

and hopefully everyone's as terrified of the baby as we are." Dean laughed nervously, and then stared stiffly down the road.

Castiel raised Dean's hand to his lips. "Dean," he said.

Dean pulled the car over, turning off the engine. They were just off the city roads, a few hundred yards before a highway ramp. "Yeah,"

Dean said, turning around, expecting more talk about responsibility and feelings.

"Can we have sex now? Here?" Castiel asked.

"Yes," Dean answered. He grabbed Castiel's neck and jammed their mouth's together, sweeping the underside of Castiel's tongue with

his own. With his arms, he forced Castiel's body out of his seat and closer near his. Castiel seemed to understand, he pulled away to

scramble in the limited space between the seats and sit in the back of the car. Dean followed his, yanking off his jacket and amulet as he

awkwardly pushed between the seats.

Dean had been with many people in the back of the car. Nearly every time, he had sex with them. There had been the joyride when he

stole Dad's car, while John was in a half-coma after a hunt, and fucked Clarice from P.E. on 'Steamy Hill' in a town near Seattle, then a

couple nights into it there was that girl from that bar with those... eyes, and after that it was a bit of a kink, really, if a girl was really hot

and Dean was in the mood for something a bit, rougher and exhibitionist, he did it in the Impala. And then there was Anna, the other

angel Dean had slept with.

Dean, slipping off his shirt, watched Castiel struggling to throw his trench coat in the front and unravel his tie and he felt rather guilty.

Castiel deserved a bed, at least, and maybe Castiel could burn out eyes with his merry face and kill by using his real voice to order pizza

, but he was pregnant. And the Impala was sort of Dean's sleezy sex spot.

"You know I can read your mind," Castiel said. He was shrugging out of his jacket.

Dean froze.

Castiel looked at Dean, even while he unbuttoned his shirt because, really, he wore a lot of clothing. "I know you have a highly sexual

history, Dean, and you have formicated with the majority of women across the United States. Please stop thinking about it.

Exagerattion. Sarcasm. Wow, Cas was pissed.

"Dean," Castiel warned, "I am perfectly serious." The angel unbuckled his belt, and the leather slid out of the pants with a hissing sound.

Dean's eyes slipped across Castiel's male, slightly hairy, beautifully toned chest. He had never, at least, slept with a man before, let alone

in his Impala. Entirely different equipment then-

"Dean!"

"Sorry!" Dean snapped, anxious, "I can't exactly control my thoughts, especially- gah, fuck it." Dean leaned back, his bare skin against the

window. "Sorry, Cas."

"You belong to me," Castiel spoke, his voice deep and sure as he slid his body out of his pants, "That's what you said."

"I meant it," Dean told Castiel, rubbing his face with his hands, "I'm just... me. A bit too 'me'. Sorry."

Castiel ripped off his socks. "Dean, you have a very small brain capacity at times," he said softly.

"What," Dean frowned. Was Cas seriously insulting him when-

"You're an idiot," Castiel rephrased. He looked at Dean, amusement in his eyes as he tugged off his boxers.

"Yeah," Dean said eagerly. He slid forward. Castiel reached out and began to unbuckle Dean's jeans. In a few breaths, Dean was on top

of Castiel as they fitted themselves into the small backseat of the Impala. Castiel helped Dean out of his pants, sliding off the boxers

along with them. Naked, Dean grinned at Castiel and slid his thumb under Cas's chin. "Hopefully, the baby has your brains then," he said.

"One can dream," Castiel sighed so convincingly it took Dean a moment to realize the angel was joking. "Now?"

Dean dropped his head, his lips touching Castiel's. He stroked Cas's chin with his thumb for a moment, before he slid his fingers between

Cas's mouth to open them. Castiel did, used to it and not putting up a disoriented tantrum, which Dean remembered fondly from their firs tseveral kisses. His tongue inside Castiel's mouth, Dean sucked and squeezed and pressed and pushed hard, while his fingers softly

brushed down Castiel's chest, lingering over the angel's sensitive sides and nipples. Castiel moaned into Dean's mouth, his eyelids

flickering and their lashes tickling Dean's.

Castiel's hand, unsure and awkward as ever, touched Dean's arm, and then down at Dean's thigh. Dean took Castiel's hand in his own,

guiding the angel's fingers to his inner thigh and stroking his own skin, once, so Castiel would repeat the motion. Dean pressed their

mouths together harder, distracting Castiel, while his free hand rummaged through the glove compartment. Castiel grabbed Dean's hair,

and he groaned like a porn star, suddenly writhing beneath Dean's body. The angel's legs found hold around Dean's back, holding them

together tighter; the air in the Impala was already growing hot. Dean's hand ferverously searched until he felt the bottom of the glove

compartment, where his trusty Impala had always held a fair share of condoms, hand cuffs, and, recently, lotion. Dean grabbed the first

one he felt, popping it open with a click that made Castiel's body tense for a split moment.

Dean untangled their mouths, detaching himself as a line of saliva ran down both of their chins. Dean kissed Castiel's, licking it off of Cas's

sexy beard shadow, before he asked, breathless, "This alright?"

Castiel's hand wrapped around the bottle of lotion. "Yes," he said, his voice rapid and strange, "please. Now."

Horny, Dean thought. He had assumed, since he was always the one initiating sex, that Castiel never even thought about sex outside

o fthe bedroom.

"Just because I'm not so naturally lustful as you are doesn't mean I can't-" Castiel began to saw, but Dean's fingers, moist with lubricant,

had slid down to his cock and the sentence fell into nothingness, completely abandoned for a moan.

"You sound," Dean mumbled, pressing his face in the space between Castiel's face and shoulder, "hotter then Jenna Jameson."

"Stop comparing me," Castiel warned. He slid his hands down Dean's muscled back.

"Why?" Dean asked, kissing Castiel's neck as his fingers circled Castiel's asshole, "you always win." Dean slipped his first finger inside of

Castiel, going slowly, mapping out the pathway, and he didn't push to the prostrate.

Castiel gripped Dean tightly, "Just, don't," Cas said darkly.

Dean laughed, moving his face to push his lips against Castiel's panting mouth. "Okay," he said. Thick with lotion, Dean pushed the second

finger into Castiel, stretching and pushing. Under him, Castiel's muscles siezed up and relaxed, shifted and moved back. "Good?" Dean

kissed Castiel's eyelids, his nose, his mouth.

Castiel nodded rapidly, "Yeah," he said, "yeah, just keep... keep going."

Dean pushed in the third finger, and Castiel's face scrunched, like worry, but as Dean slowly edged further along Cas sighed and his body

grew limp. "Dean," Castiel said in his deep, gravely voice that Dean had quickly grown to find more sensuous then any woman's. Castiel's

hands moved, one settling in its usual place over the red sphandprint on Dean's shoulder-

Anna had done the same thing when-

"Stop."

-and the other wrapping around Dean's hand, pushing his fingers out of Castiel. The angel reached out, his hand finding purchase on

Dean's lower back, pulling them nearer. Castiel adjusted his back in the Impala, the position far more awkward then it had ever been as

he tried to arrang himself. Thinking, Dean grabbed his jacket and shirt and slid them like pillows between Castiel's back and the car walls.

Castiel nodded, and said, "Come on, Dean."

Dean fucking, fucking loved this part.

Castiel grinned, and his other hand reached up and settled itself around Dean's shoulders to hold himself steady. Dean found his position,

and he wrapped one of his hands around Castiel's cock, stroking him gently, as he pressed into Castiel with his own.

Castiel moaned, and Dean grunted, his head now firmly cushioned against Cas's body. Dean eased himself in, finding the familiar hard

knot and pushing against it to make Castiel cry out, truly, deeply, hotter in this moment then all of the porn Dean had ever watched.

Fucking an angel, well, this was heaven.

"Nearly," Castiel replied with a gasp.

Dean pulled himself out, slowly, but he really couldn't hold himself at this pace, especially not in the Impala, which was supposed to be for

rough, hard, and dirty sex. "Good," Castiel moaned, "so stop fussing, Dean."

Dean slid back in, and then out, and very quickly he was thrusting Castiel's body hard against the wall of the Impala while he gasped and

shook and knew that fucking hell, this was the best goddamn, shitting thing he had ever done in his missable life. Harder, and harder,

their bodies thick with sweat. Castiel's legs fell out of their position and scrambled against the walls and the floor, forgotten in favor of the

hard, through feeling of Dean inside him, full against his prostrate. Dean could hardly concentrate to stroke Castiel's cock in his hands,

because really, there was far too much to remember and he wasn't exactly at his best when stars were screaming in his eyes and his

angel was gasping and moaning so perfectly beneath him.

Each thrust forced their bodies closer and closer together, and Dean's hand was in his lap or on his shoulder, it was too hard to tell and

Cas was worse off then he was. "Cas," Dean mumbled inaudibly, the only coherent thing he managed to say.

When everything stopped, and it all stopped and exploded and Dean saw a white light and hell if he didn't wake up boneless and nearly

dead when he found his body collapsed in a heap on top of Castiel's, the angel was smiling and running his hands through Dean's hair.

"Cas," Dean said, too tired to blink and to move.

"A boy," Castiel replied.

Dean barely managed to look at Castiel. "Oh," was all he could say.