28. Chapter 28

While Gabriel procured them a table, Castiel wheeled the stroller into the back of the restaurant. Instead of taking Dean into the men’s bathroom, which technically would have what he needed to change Dean, he opted for the so-called hatchling room instead. It was a single room with a door that locked, and there was ample space for the two of them plus the stroller, the toilet, the sink and a sturdy changing table along the right wall. No chance of anyone walking in on them meant that Dean would be more comfortable.

He set the diaper bag on the bottom of the changing table and pushed the hood of the stroller back, smiling fondly when Dean automatically flinched away from the light. “Come on, little one,” he murmured, sliding his hands under Dean’s arms and lifting him up with only a slight wince. Dean barely stirred, evidently too use to being picked up now for it to warrant such a reaction, and Castiel set him down on the changing table.

It was fortunate that he’d had the forethought to pack a separate pair of jeans. The pull-up was soaked through with urine, which he had suspected might happen: they didn’t have the absorbency of a diaper. He removed Dean’s shoes, then opened Dean’s jeans and pulled them and the pull-up down his legs. He threw out the pull-up and folded the jeans up – he would clean them later, after he’d slept and had more grace to spare – and slipped them into a clean bag before putting them into the bag. He removed wipes, a diaper and the fresh pair of jeans.

When he turned back to Dean, he saw that he was being watched by a pair of slitted green eyes. “Hello, Dean.”

“No,” Dean said, scowling at the sight of the diaper. He started to sit up but swayed, dangerously closed to falling off the table, and Castiel quickly gripped his shoulders and pushed him back down.

“Sit still, Dean,” he ordered. “No one will know that you’re wearing a diaper, okay? I promise. It’s just us here. The door is locked. Gabriel is outside. I have another pair of jeans for you.” He kept his hands on Dean’s shoulders until he was certain that the sleepy baby wouldn’t try to get up again.

“No,” Dean said again, tears forming in his eyes, though he didn’t allow them to fall.

“Shh. It’s okay,” Castiel whispered, reaching for one of the wipes. He continued to speak in a low, soothing tone, having already observed how much the sound of his voice could calm Dean down. Dean still flinched at the first touch of the wipe between his spread legs, and his face reddened as he determinedly turned away, like he thought he could ignore what was happening through willpower alone.

That was fine, so long as he remained still. Murmuring praise, Castiel cleaned him up quickly and with as little touch as possible so as not to make Dean’s discomfort worse, and then lifted his hips to slip the diaper underneath. He pulled the front up and smoothed the plastic straps into place, noticing that a little of the tension in Dean’s body eased when the diaper was in place. Interesting. It was very tempting to dip into Dean’s head and find out exactly what his little one was thinking – it was possible, even likely, that Dean was finding the diapers more of a comfort than he’d ever admit to – but he refrained.

“All done, sweetheart. You were such a good boy for Daddy,” Castiel said, watching him closely. The progress they’d made was unbelievable. Not long ago, Dean would’ve freaked out and probably tried to punch him for this. “Do you want help sitting up?”

Dean shook his head and sat up more slowly this time, bracing his hand against the wall. He rubbed his eyes gingerly, squinting up at the light. “Time’s it?”

“Just after three,” Castiel replied, turning on the sink to wash his hands. Dean had slept for about an hour, though he clearly could do with another nap as he still looked very tired.

Dean looked around the small room. His gaze fell on the trashcan and the soaked pull-up inside. His blush, which was just starting to fade, came back in full force. “I didn’t –”

“You were sleeping.”

“But – I didn’t even have a nightmare!”

Castiel raised an eyebrow, confused. “You are still mostly human, and I’m given to believe that urination has very little correlation with nightmares.”

“It doesn’t. I just –” Dean stopped himself with visible effort, looking even more distressed now than he had during the actual change. “I didn’t even know it happened,” he muttered, mostly to himself, and then Castiel understood.

He stepped closer to Dean and hugged him. “There’s nothing wrong with that,” he said gently, unable to resist wrapping his wings around Dean as well. “That’s what the pull-ups and diapers are for. It’s normal for it to happen at first while you sleep, when you’re more relaxed.” And when Dean’s conscious mind wasn’t aware and rebelling against what his subconscious so clearly wanted.

“But…”

“But what?”

“But what will Sammy think?” Dean asked, sounding terribly young, and just saying the words seemed to terrify him even more. Fresh tears welled up in his eyes, and Castiel hastened to reassure him.

“Your brother doesn’t have to know. Dean, when you’re wearing jeans no one knows what you have on underneath. I assure you I don’t plan to change you in front of Bobby and Sam,” Castiel said, wondering if this was something that Dean had genuinely worried about. Judging by Dean’s shuddery exhale, probably. “Right now the only other people who know are Gabriel and Balthazar, and they have the same attitude as I do. This is normal. You’re a hatchling, and no different from thousands of other hatchlings that we’ve seen before.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Didn’t you see the other hatchlings who were out shopping?” He carefully brushed a few strands of sweaty hair off Dean’s forehead. “You’re not the only one who has benefitted from something like this, little one. There have been hatchlings even younger than you, who were so broken that they needed to be treated like a newborn.”

Dean winced. “You’re not –”

“No,” Castiel said, amused. “I just want you to know that you are loved, and being a baby means that you can accept my affection without feeling like you need to do something in return. Most angels who take hatchlings feel the same way, I assure you. It’s not very difficult to tell how old a human will turn out to be when they start consuming grace.”

“So if some other angel had decided to take me on…”

“I doubt you would have agreed. But yes. I still think you would be as you are now,” Castiel told him. Outside influence had definitely been the key ingredient in bringing Dean this far. But like it or not, there was a very real part of Dean that reveled in being treated like a baby. No worries, no fears, no hunting, just the love and attention he should’ve had the first time around, letting him deal with the trauma of the past several years in a far more healthy way than he would have if left to his own devices.

For about a minute, Dean was quiet. He was looking at the diaper between his legs, but he wasn’t pulling away or crying. Finally, he asked, “Am I gonna get to the point where I can’t control it?”

“The goal is for you to get to a place where you feel comfortable using your diaper and trusting that you’ll be taken care of,” Castiel said patiently. He suspected that Dean would never fully lose control, but as his body learned not to pay attention to the signals of his bladder it might be harder. “Eventually, once your soul begins to produce grace, you won’t have to urinate at all. Or eat. Or sleep.”

“No food?” Dean squeaked, looking horrified.

“You won’t need food, but you can still eat just like Gabriel and I do. I wouldn’t ask you to live without cheeseburgers.”

“Right.” Dean nodded, just once, and thumped his heels against the changing table. He avoided Castiel’s eyes, blushing again, as he added, “I won’t ever take a shit like this. That’s just not happening.”

Castiel laughed. He should have been expecting that, but somehow Dean still managed to surprise him. “You don’t have to. If you need to go potty, you can tell me and I will take you. But if you did have to, if you were sick or couldn’t make it in time, I hope that you know I wouldn’t be angry or punish you. I’m your daddy. That’s what I’m here for.”

“That’s not gonna happen,” Dean said with confidence.

“Well, just so you know.” Castiel handed him the other set of jeans, sensing that Dean needed to be a little independent right then. Dean hopped down so that he could pull them on, covering the diaper. He examined himself critically in the mirror, turning from every angle to make sure that the diaper wasn’t visible. It wasn’t. He finally agreed to put his shoes back on.

“I still think it’s weird,” Dean muttered as he knelt to tie them.

“What is?”

“When you did… that.” He waved a hand at the changing table.

“Was it good weird?” Castiel asked, already knowing the answer, and his suspicion was confirmed when Dean flushed and shrugged instead of answering. Undoubtedly it made Dean feel embarrassed and completely out of depth when he was put into such a vulnerable position. But the very fact that he’d allowed it meant that he was becoming more aware, and that was excellent progress.

He wrapped an arm around Dean’s shoulders, pulling him into for another hug that Dean eagerly sank into, and brushed a kiss across the top of Dean’s head. “I’m proud of you, Dean,” he murmured. “I know this is hard for you, but you’re doing really well.”

They walked out with Castiel’s arm still around Dean’s shoulders, pushing the stroller in front of them. Dean’s gaze swept the restaurant, and Castiel noticed him paying special attention to two hatchlings in the far corner of the restaurant. One of them was about the same age, mentally and physically, as Dean. She was sitting on the lap of her parental angel, being fed a bottle. Her eyes were half-open, little pink wings fluttering sleepily. The other was a little older, probably five or six years old, and eating soup while making a huge mess.

Dean’s eyes were glued to the hatchling with the pink wings. Castiel wasn’t sure what fascinated him so much. The bottle? The fact that the hatchling was only wearing a diaper and a little white t-shirt? Or that she looked so content even though she was doing something that was, as Dean would have put it, weird and shameful? Maybe all of the above. Whatever it was, Dean craned his neck to keep them in sight as they made their way over to the table where Gabriel was waiting.

“All good?” Gabriel said. He was sprawled all over his side of the booth and made no attempt at moving, so Castiel gently pushed Dean into the booth first and then sat down beside him.

“I think so,” Castiel said, glancing at the menu. Before he had the chance to touch it, a waiter walked up to them.

“Can I take your order?” he asked.

Recognizing the brush of grace, Castiel looked up, not surprised in the least to recognize his brother. At least he had appeared in a clever way that wouldn’t immediately raise Dean’s attention. “Hello Samandriel.”

“Hi,” Samandriel said, exuding an odd combination of excitement and nerves. From the way he was trying not to look at a very amused Gabriel, it wasn’t hard to guess why. “What can I get you?”

“The biggest sundae on your menu,” Gabriel drawled.

Castiel rolled his eyes. “And we’ll take cheeseburgers with fries, please.”

“Would you like a bottle for your hatchling?” Samandriel asked. “We offer them in chocolate flavor too.”

Dean’s head whipped around.

“Not this time, thank you,” Castiel said, struggling not to smile. Gabriel had no such problem, flat out grinning. It was honestly hard to tell whether Dean was horrified or intrigued by the idea.