Rating: PG13 for the time being, but that has potential to change
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing(s): Dean/Castiel
Warnings: MPREG, slash, possible English mistakes, language? (is anyone seriously offended by language? Fuck fuckedy fuck fuck fuck. I just quoted South Park. Hate me.)
Spoilers: none.
A/N: PLEASE READ.
Hello all! I never posted a story to the internet before, so I've decided to give this WIP a little test run on this website, see how people react to it and all that. I don't have a beta reader, obviously, and I'm fairly confident in my English and grammar, but it isn't my first language, so I apologise for any mistakes I may have made (esp. if I spelled angel wrong at any point. It's one letter off in my native language, and although it sounds completely different, I probably mistyped it at least once just by force of habit). Also, I didn't intend for this story to be broken into chapters, so I'm kind of just trying to find acceptable stopping points from what I've written so far. It hasn't been thoroughly revised either. It's sort of like a really detailed draft right now, I guess. Anyways, this story is really just my little guinea pig for the internet, not anything super serious.
A/N#2: This story is a sort of future!fic. It's in a domestic setting, after Team Free Will has partially retired (or at least toned down their life styles). I am up to date on the show, but I will be completely ignoring the episode Death's Door from season 7, partly because ugh and partly because I am absolutely not convinced that the outcome of that episode is permanent.

Anyways, I hope anyone who pops by is able to find this enjoyable!

Oct. 12

Dean has just come in from working on a car out in the yard. He shivers as his body transitions from the cold outside air to the warmth of his home. He is welcomed by the scent of an apple pie in the oven and heads upstairs to change out of his dirty work clothes.

Cas has already laid out a fresh flannel and jeans for him on the bed, and he's about to put them on until he notices a light under the bathroom door and the consistent pattering of the shower running on the other side of the wooden barrier.

He cracks the door just wide enough to slide through and finds Castiel standing in front of the mirror with a towel wrapped around him like a blanket.

It isn't until after he wraps his arms around him from behind and plants a kiss on his cheek that Dean notices the angel has his head resting against the wall and actually looks kind of sick.

"Cas? You okay?"

The angel nods.

"Yeah? You look like you're gonna hurl."

Dean receives a questioning look.

"What is 'hurl'?"

"Y'know, throw up, vomit…"

A look of understanding appears on the angel's face.

"I…wouldn't know the feeling."

"It's just a way of saying you look like you're not feeling so great, Cas. I didn't mean you're actually gonna puke."

Castiel nods, then lurches forward and vomits in the sink.

"Or maybe you are," Dean corrects himself and immediately wishes he'd kept his mouth shut when Castiel stares up at him, wide-eyed and ghostly pale, looking legitimately terrified. He looks confused, maybe even a little bit embarrassed, and if Dean didn't know any better, he'd say he almost looks about to cry.

"Whoa! Whoa! Hey, buddy, it's okay. It's just a little puke. It ain't gonna kill you."

Castiel throws up a little bit more, the second round catching him entirely off guard, and then he turns to Dean with a look like he's just had the most horrifying experience of his existence.

"You done?" Dean asks after a few minutes. Castiel nods. He looks absolutely pitiful.

Dean says nothing, just guides Castiel downstairs, lays him down on the couch, and throws his favourite knitted blanket over him, the loosely-woven white one he bought off that god awful 'Etsy' website, or whatever it's called.

The angel is asleep within minutes with the help of Dean's soothing words and touches. It's still early, nine in the morning, and Dean has nothing better to do, so he sits and watches his angel's steady breathing and wonders what the hell could have made him get sick.

It's raining heavily when Castiel wakes up at about half past noon. He sits up abruptly and, before his eyes can focus, is gently pushed back down by a strong, warm hand on his chest.

"Easy there," comes Dean's voice from beside him.

Castiel sits up, more slowly this time, and looks around until his vision catches on Dean watching him patiently.

"How are you feeling?"

"Much better."

The hunter nods.

"I, uh, made you some tea…that chai stuff you like… if you think you're stomach is up for it, I mean."

Castiel sees the steaming mug set on the coffee table and smiles just slightly.

"Thank you, Dean."

They sit in silence for a while as Castiel sips at his tea, small sips, as he was instructed, and Dean simply watches him, partially out of fondness, partially to keep an eye out for anything wrong with him.

Dean doesn't bring it up again until that night.

"Cas, how're you feeling?"

"I feel fine."

"What was up with you this morning, man? I thought angels didn't get sick."

"As did I," he says contemplatively,"My grace seems to be being weakened by something… possibly a mild binding spell from that witch we ran into a recently. I believe I may have 'caught a bug'," the angel doesn't fail to gesture the quotations.

It still doesn't seem quite right to Dean, but the explanation is reasonable, and he can tell Castiel isn't lying, so he decides go along with it.

The angel continues to get sick every morning, but aside from that everything is normal for the next few days.

Oct. 16

It's when they're hunting a couple of low-level demons, nothing they can't handle quickly and painlessly, that things get complicated. So far, the job has been easy enough, only problem is, this thing is smart. Of course it's possessing a little boy. He couldn't be a day over four years old, and Dean couldn't hurt that kid if his life depended on it.

"Aw, what's wrong? Am I hitting a little too close to home, daddy?" the demon taunts. "You two are a lot dumber than I thought. Really, did you honestly think we wouldn't notice?"

This demon may be smart, but it's damn pathetic. So he and Cas are together, big whoop. They can still gank their asses just the same as before.

"I think you're missing the point, genius. You and your buddy are still fucked."

"Ooh, that's dark of you, Dean. I never would have thought you'd be so careless of your family, put them in danger…just like your father. Anyways, I wouldn't be so sure of yourself," it sneers, "That little parasite is taking its toll on your angel."

'Parasite?'

As if on cue, Castiel crashes through the rotting wall from the next room of the deteriorating house and lands on his back in the debris.

"Cas?"

The second demon makes an appearance, standing over the heap of angel on the ground. It grips him by the tie and pulls him to a standing position. The angel's head lolls and he stumbles a step, but recovers his balance.

"Dean, they're both dead," Castiel huffs, "The hosts…are already dead. You have to…I can't-"

The demon crushes him against the wall and Castiel squirms weakly in an attempt to get away.

Dean reaches for his knife, but is thrown backwards into several stacks of books sitting in the corner.

"What are you waiting for?" the demon in the little boy hisses at its partner, "Kill it."

"Why not take our time and enjoy the show?"

The little boy seems to contemplate.

"Good point."

It drops Castiel to the floor, and the angel curls in on himself, face scrunched in pain, before the demon so much as touches him.

"Oh, what's this?" it leans closer to the angel, observing, "Your little parasite is giving us a hand. Although, I supposed it's only natural such and abomination would end up siding with us."

The knife is on the other side of the room, and Dean has no other weapons. He begins reciting an exorcism under his breath.

"Don't think we can't hear you over there, Daddy. How about you shut up and let us finish our business with Momma, or we can kill him along with baby."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

The demons glance at each other.

Dean finds a rusty nail on the ground.

"He doesn't know," one of them says.

They both smirk.

"This just keeps getting better and better," the demon in the little boy snickers as the other kicks Castiel in the face.

"Alright, Dean Winchester, you're slightly more intelligent than I gave you credit for earlier. It's your angel that's pitifully stupid."

"Get to the point."

"Oh no, Winchester, I think I get to have my fun here, considering I've got the upper hand in this situation. I can let you sit here and wonder for as long as I want."

Dean has ideas, but they're all absurd.

The other demon grabs Castiel again, this time pulling him up by his hair. The angel starts to double over as a seemingly sourceless wave of pain shoots through him, but is immediately yanked back upright.

He looks to the hunter, expression pained, apologetic, and embarrassed.

"Dean, I-"

The demon throws a hand over his mouth.

"No, no, no, Castiel. You're much too late. This is our juicy little secret to tell now."

"Then get on with it, dumbass," Dean spits.

The demon sighs.

"You're no fun."

"Yeah? Well I'm on business."

"Touché."

It walks to the other side of the room where Dean is still sitting on the floor.

"Do I really have to spell it out for you? I thought we already made it pretty clear, Daddy."

The hunter doesn't react, just continues to glare at them.

"That angel is carrying your baby, you fucking neanderthal!"

"That's impossible," Dean defends, "He's a guy!"

"And an angel, you stupid fuck! He's carrying a nephilim, and it must be destroyed!"

The demon is afraid. The realisation doesn't vanquish the unsettling feeling growing in the pit of Dean's stomach, but he gains a sudden sense of control.

He glances at the floorboard the demon is standing on and smirks.

"Gotcha!" he says as the demon follows his gaze to the tiny devil's trap carved in the wooden plank and holding its tiny foot in place.

It gives Dean just enough leverage to get to the knife before the other demon can react. It's preoccupied with Castiel and doesn't even see him coming.

He reminds himself not to take rusty nails for granted.

He turns back to the little boy. The demon is trying to claw a break in the devil's trap with its nail, and Dean doesn't have time to think.

He stabs the demon in the centre of the chest.

It stumbles backwards on the impact and wheezes cruelly with its dying breath, "Why'd you do it, Daddy?"

Dean knows it's the demon speaking, but it's pretty convincing nonetheless.

He turns around. He can't look at it; he feels sick.

"Oh, god. I'm gonna be sick. I'm gonna be sick," mumbles as he paces the room, looking anywhere but the tiny body lying in the corner, "I'm gonna be sick."

But he's not. Castiel rolls over and gets sick for him.

It draws Dean's attention away from the demons and back to the matter presently at hand.

Cas is pretty beat up and doesn't seem to be healing himself. He looks scared, but Dean is pretty sure that's mostly because he just threw up.

The adrenaline's effect is fading away, and the realisation of what the demons had said sinks in.

"Is all that shit true?"

"It has begun bonding with my grace. It is...painful, and it has weakened me greatly.

"Is all that shit true?"

Castiel nods.

Dean feels like he's been punched in the gut.

"I am with child."

The drive home is silent. Castiel gives up on trying to explain himself when after four tries the farthest he ever gets is 'Dean, I-' before a gesture is thrown at him to stop talking. After that, it's four hours of silence.

They don't even speak the three times Dean has to pull over for Castiel to puke on the side of the road. He can just tell when the angel gets obnoxiously fidgety.

Dean doesn't get out to remind him that he's okay or to rub his back, and he definitely would not feel bad if he'd noticed (which he absolutely did not notice) the tears threatening to spill over in Cas' eyes each time he got back in the car.

They arrive home, and Dean is still silent.

Several minutes pass, and Dean is still silent.

Castiel tries for conversation again when the hunter returns from taking the duffel bag upstairs.

"Dean-"

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?" Dean is angry.

"I wasn't sure, Dean. I knew it only as a possibility! I… I am aware that you have wanted a child in the past. I did not wish to disappoint you if it was not the case. Dean, I had to be sure, and I was not!"

Dean is livid. His eyes are wet.

"Yeah? Well what the fuck made you think it was a good idea to go hunting when you could possibly be," Dean nearly chokes on the word, "…pregnant! Why would you even risk that! You put yourself and the baby in danger! You could have been killed!"

"I," Castiel looks ashamed, "I did not expect that it would begin bonding so soon. I was unaware-"

"You really never thought it might be important to tell me that you can get pregnant? Not once?"

"Dean-"

"Not even that I might have, oh, I don't know, maybe knocked you up?!"

"Dean, I-"

Castiel stiffens and doubles over.

"Dean!" he cries out, voice breaking. He drops to his knees and curls in on himself, face scrunched in pain as he gasps for air and tries fruitlessly to hold back the whimper that escapes with every exhale.

Dean rushes to kneel beside him, afraid to touch or move him.

"Cas! Cas, come on, man. Deep breaths. Just take deep breaths. It's gonna be okay. You're gonna be fine."

Castiel bites his lip and nods, not taking his red-rimmed eyes from Dean's gaze until he is slammed with another wave of pain that tenses his entire body.

He curls up so tightly, Dean thinks for a moment that he might be trying to crush himself, but it passes. It's a mystery how much time has gone by, but the tension locking Castiel's body finally releases.

"Cas?"

Dean lays a tentative hand on his angel's shoulder, as gently as he can manage.

"Are you…um," he clears his throat, "You gonna be okay, buddy?"

Castiel lifts his head, and Dean feels his throat unclench at the sight of his angel's face relaxed and not in pain.

"Yes, I am okay."

He gets Cas situated on the couch with his blanket and goes to make a cup of tea. He tells himself it's an accident that he ends up with two.

When he comes back, Castiel is exactly as he left him, but Dean notices the angel absently tracing two fingers back and forth across his abdomen.

He tries not to let the feeling it gives him get too fuzzy and hands Castiel one of the mugs without a word.

"Thank you."

"Yeah, no problem," Dean confirms and seats himself on the half of the couch that doesn't have an angel curled up on it.

"Dean, I think you should know that-"

"Cas. Listen, I'm sorry. Okay? I shouldn't have yelled at you. I wasn't thinking clearly. I was… Back there with those demons, man, you scared the shit out of me! It's just a lot to take in, and I couldn't think straight, so don't take any of what I said too hard, okay? I'm sorry."

Castiel blinks at him.

"You are forgiven."

"And you were right too, you know, about me wanting a kid. I do, but it-I just… it's your choice. You're the one who has to..carry it, or whatever, and…deal with all of that, so… you get to make the decision."

Castiel cocks his head, and the familiar gesture brings more comfort than Dean had ever imagined it could.

"What decision? If you are referring to whether or not to keep the child, Dean, your reason to leave the choice up to me is mostly irrelevant. Removal of the child, now that it has begun the bonding process, would be…extremely painful… almost as painful as it will be to follow through with the bonding of the child to my grace."

"Wow, don't sugarcoat it."

"Dean, this is serious! It isn't going to be easy, for either one of us, and I cannot do this on my own," the hunter could have sworn he saw a flash of fear in his angel's eyes, "But I am willing to do it if you also want this… If this will make you happy, then I am especially willing."

"Cas, I am happy. I'm happier than I've ever been, and I want to be a dad, believe me, I do, but… think about this, Cas. This is dangerous-for all of us! We can't just… we can't…"

"Would you prefer it if I were to abort the child?" Castiel asks seriously when Dean doesn't pick up his sentence.

"No!" Dean looks at him, surprised at how calmly the angel suggested the annihilation of their own baby, "No," the hunter takes a deep breath and shakes his head.

"How long does it, uh…?" Dean makes a circular motion with his hand, egging Castiel to complete the sentence on his own.

"Approximately three months."

Dean's face drops to his hands.

"Shit. That's not much time."

Castiel is getting shifty. His hand that had been tracing a path across his stomach is now absently prodding and pressing, searching for the source of the dull, distant pain becoming present there and trying to push it back into the depths from which it came.

"How long does this bonding thing take?"

"From my understanding, the worst of it will be over within six hours, but Dean, you must understand that it is going to be extremely unpleasant, and you are the one who will have to deal with me in such a condition."

The hunter nods.

"We must hurry with this decision. I'm unsure of how much time we have before the bonding begins again, and I can assure you that I will most likely not be coherent then."

"Cas, you're gonna be okay, right? This bonding shit isn't gonna…kill you or anything? Cause I'd sure as hell rather have you around than not, just because you didn't get some stupid abortion."

"Yes. I will be okay."

The hunter sighs in relief.

"Dean, I need your decision."

"Oh, so it's all on me now?"

"Once the child has bonded with my grace, it will be all but impossible for me to survive removing it before it is ready for separation. I will be…vulnerable," he waits a moment before adding, somewhat reluctantly, "The simplest option would be to remove the embryo now before it tangles itself any further."

Dean is quiet for a moment, long enough for tension to gather in the room.

"Cas, do you want this?"

The angel nods, somewhat hesitantly.

"Well then…since when have we ever done anything the easy way?"

Castiel's expression is unchanging, but his eyes brighten noticeably.

"You are sure of this?"

"Positive."

Castiel smiles, big and real, and it hits Dean like a comet, the realisation that holy shit he could actually get to be a dad. He doesn't even realise he's smiling too until his face begins to hurt, and he wonders just how long he and Cas have been staring at each other like that. Abruptly, he pulls the angel into a firm embrace and kisses him hard on the mouth. They pull away and just look at each other for a moment.

"So," Dean breaks the silence and clears his throat, "What do we do now? Just wait for it to start doing that thing again?"

"Bonding."

"Yeah, that."

"Yes."

The idea of waiting around for his unborn baby to inflict excruciating pain on his angel makes Dean antsy, so they turn to the tv and flip through the channels in search of a distraction.

They make it through about an hour and a half of a Harry Potter marathon before Cas declares that he's about to throw up and won't be able to move without doing so in the middle of the living room.

Dean grabs the nearest waste basket and sets it on the ground between the angel's legs.

It takes him back to childhood memories of looking after a young Sam with some pretty nasty food poisoning, as he rubs his angel's back and tries to soothe him.

Castiel is still terrified of vomiting.

Each time he's forced to empty his stomach, he looks more surprised and closer to crying.

All Dean can do is sit with him and rub his back and quietly tell him he's going to be okay; his attempts are spirited but ineffective.

When Cas hasn't puked for a good twenty minutes, Dean carries him upstairs and lays him on their bed, then goes back to take the soiled trash bag outside, preferring not to the smell of vomit soak into their house.

When he comes back in, it's much too quiet for his liking. He rushes up the stairs and finds Castiel, fallen off the bed and in a ball on the floor, both arms holding his stomach and small pained noises escaping his mouth.

"Shit. Cas?"

"Y-yes, Dean?" the angel struggles to get out.

"Fuck. Is it starting? How bad is it?"

"Yes, it has started. I am… unwell, but I will get much worse."

Dean would tease him about being a cynic, but now isn't the time.

"Okay. Just tell me what I need to do."

"Nothing."

"What do you mean 'nothing'? There's gotta be something!"

Castiel shakes his head.

"How bad's it gonna get, then, if you're already like this?"

"I am not sure," the angel admits.

"Great… You okay if I move you?"

Castiel nods.

Dean carefully lifts him back onto the the bed, tucking him under the blankets this time, and planting a gentle kiss on his angel's mouth.

"You're gonna be okay, you got that? I'm here for you."

The angel nods, then returns to looking hurt and sick and enduring the rapidly escalating pain that is plaguing him.

Shitty stopping point, I know. I'm sorry. I tried.

I really hope anyone who read down far enough to see this enjoyed this little tidbit at least to some extent. I have a lot more written, but this was the best place I could find to stop it. Plus I get to leave you wondering hehehe. Or maybe not. I don't know.

It's still morning over here, so if it turns out that people like it, I might post some more tonight.

Anyways, I would really appreciate some feedback if anyone is satisfied (or dissatisfied) enough to review!
Thanks for reading!