44. Chapter 44

Being a handmaiden basically meant being a servant, but Dean found he didn’t mind. Charlie’s excitement was infectious, and she wasn’t the kind of queen to hide behind her servants. Oh no. She was right there beside him as they battled against the invaders that were trying to storm their castle. The fact that the invaders were being played by a handful of army men, two stuffed dragons, a little blue boat made it no less satisfying when the enemies were finally defeated.

“Success!” Charlie squealed, throwing one last stray lego. Her face was flushed and she was grinning madly, wings aloft and quivering. She strutted over to the stuffed dragons and stood over them, hands on hips, but she looked back at Dean. “Good job, Handmaiden Dean. You helped your queen to protect your castle. For that, you deserve a reward.”

“A reward?” Dean echoed. “What kind of reward?”

“How about cookies?” Anael said, and Dean jumped. He hadn’t even noticed her approaching. He dropped the handful of legos he was still holding, suddenly embarrassed by how caught up he’d gotten in Charlie’s story.

“Cookies?” Charlie said, her eyes lighting up.

“That’s right. You two have been hard at work, but I think it’s time for a snack and maybe a nap.”

Charlie screwed her face up. “No nap.”

“Yes nap.”

Charlie eyed her. “Can I have three cookies then?”

Anael was clearly trying not to laugh. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Charlie said seriously. She lifted her arms. “Mommy, wet.”

Dean stared at her.

“You need a change first?” Anael said, not skipping a beat, and stepped past Dean to scoop Charlie up. Charlie cuddled into her unashamedly, wrapping her arms around Anael’s shoulders and doing a poor job of masking a yawn. She smiled sleepily at Dean as Anael carried her away, down the hall into the bathroom.

“Dean?”

At the sound of Castiel’s voice behind him, Dean turned quickly. He wasn't hearing anyone come up today; he really losing his touch. He opened his mouth to speak but paused when Castiel put a hand to his cheek and then his forehead. The touch felt nice. He hadn’t realized how warm he was until he felt the coolness of Castiel’s palm. He leaned into it, closing his eyes, still thinking about Charlie and the completely unselfconscious way in which she’d announced she was wet. Which meant she was wearing a diaper – and, presumably, not embarrassed about it.

“You’re a little warm,” Castiel murmured, wrapping a careful arm around Dean’s shoulders and bringing him in for a hug. “I think you could use a nap too.”

“Not sleepy,” Dean said, even though his eyes were still shut. This was the most activity he’d had for like two weeks, and truth be told, now that he had stopped, he was feeling a little sleepy. And his wings were hurting, too. The ache from before had deepened into true pain.

Castiel noticed, of course. “I think you are. A diaper change, some wing oil, a snack, and then a nap are in short order for you, little one.”

The wing oil and snack were about the only things on that list Dean approved of. Castiel carried him down the hall and into his bedroom. It was way too painful for Dean to lie on his back on the changing table – which was good, because he didn’t know if he was ready for that level of mortification yet – so he was still being supported in midair by grace alone while he was changed. That was a little embarrassing, but the grace always felt so soothing on his skin it was hard to complain.

“Just relax, baby boy,” Castiel said softly, unsnapping the crotch of the onesie. He undid the tabs on the soiled diaper and removed it, tossing it into the garbage bin. He was quick but methodical, wiping Dean off and dusting him with baby powder. He slipped a new diaper into place and pressed the tabs down, then patted Dean’s tummy. “All done. I’ll do your wings now.”

Dean nodded, ready for the moment when the grace turned him over onto his belly. He put his head on his arms and sighed as the onesie was rolled up, and then came the first touch of wing oil to his throbbing back. Castiel had admitted that it was a lot easier to collect wing oil with Gabriel around, but it wasn’t impossible to do by himself – it was just more awkward because of the angle. But apparently he didn’t trust Balthazar or Anael enough to ask for their help: a fact that Dean appreciated. This was intimate, and he didn’t want anyone outside of Gabriel and Castiel seeing him like this.

He twitched when oily fingers touched his wings instead and squeezed his eyes shut. His wings were so ugly, he didn’t know how Castiel could bear to touch them. It didn’t help that they were so sensitive even the gentlest touch felt like sandpaper. Tears were stinging at his eyes by the time that Castiel was finished; even though the oil would help, it would take a couple of minutes before the soothing qualities of the wing oil had time to work. The process was ultimately worth it, but that didn’t mean Dean liked it.

Crying only made it worse. Impatiently he scrubbed at his eyes, hoping to remove any traces of his weakness before his daddy saw, but Castiel was too fast. Castiel rolled down the onesie and re-snapped it at the crotch. Then careful hands gathered Dean into a warm hug, and Castiel kissed him on the forehead.

“What do you say we go have a snack with Charlie, hmm?”

“Can I have pie?” Dean asked, a little plaintively. He hadn’t been eating much lately, but he was always hungry for pie. Especially pie of the caliber that Gabriel could make. “Daddy, when’s Uncle Gabriel coming back?”

Castiel’s mouth twitched with a smile, but he answered readily enough. “We don’t have any pie, but we have cookies. And I don’t know, Dean. He said he had things to look after in heaven. I suppose he’s probably making sure that Raphael isn’t trying to do anything.”

“I want him to come back and make me pie.”

“I’ll let him know,” Castiel promised. “Do you miss him?”

“No,” Dean lied, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s neck. Truth be told, he did miss having Gabriel around a little. His uncle was much more likely to let him get away with something than his daddy was. And Castiel always seemed more cheerful when Gabriel was around. Plus there was the added benefit that no demon would be stupid enough to come around with an archangel in the nest.

“I don’t think you’re being honest,” said Castiel, but his warm tone belied his amusement.

Dean didn’t bother to dignify that with a response, instead choosing to remain quiet as they returned to the kitchen. Balthazar was still there, reclining casually in one of the chairs with his blue wings coiled behind him. Anael was sitting opposite him, Charlie curled up in her lap. There was a plate of freshly baked cookies in the middle of the table, along with – Dean’s stomach twisted – two bottles of milk. As soon as Charlie saw them, her hand darted out and she grabbed a cookie.

“Charlie!” Anael said.

“You said I could have a cookie when Dean got here,” Charlie protested, stuffing the cookie in her mouth. She garbled something else that was unintelligible through her mouthful.

Anael rolled her eyes. “I meant once they were sitting down,” she said as Castiel sat down, placing Dean on his knees. “Charlie and I baked these cookies this morning, Dean. Do you like chocolate chip?”

The cookies looked appetizing, golden brown and studded with lots of chocolate, even though Dean wasn’t that hungry. Despite his earlier protest, he was actually getting really sleepy now that he wasn’t playing anymore. But manners kicked in, and he reached out to take a cookie with a quiet, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Anael said. She was doing a lot of smiling at him, a lot more than she’d ever done before. It was kind of weird, but also nice. He bit into the cookie, discovering that it was still warm and crumbly. His stomach growled, and he decided maybe he could eat it after all.

Charlie scarfed down two more cookies quickly, and tried to steal a fourth before Anael grabbed her hand. “But Mommy,” Charlie whined.

“Our agreement was three, pumpkin, and that’s what we’re sticking with.” Anael picked up one of the bottles of milk and held it up. Charlie pouted but leaned forward, taking the nipple into her mouth and sucking. Dean watched her out of the corner of his eye and was reminded of the hatchling that he’d seen in the restaurant: completely unashamed, as though this was normal behavior to be doing in public with other people watching. It made his stomach feel all squirmy and he set the rest of his cookie down.

“Don’t you want anymore, Dean?” Castiel asked, sounding concerned.

“No, thank you,” Dean said softly, looking down at the table. But before long, he gave into the temptation to keep watching Anael and Charlie. Anael was so affectionate, sweeping Charlie’s hair back and looking down at her with a tender expression. So motherly. And Charlie was thoroughly enjoying herself, letting Anael hold the bottle and curling into her guardian with one hand loosely clenched in Anael’s shirt. He didn’t know whether to be fascinated or disturbed.

"Okay. Then I guess it's time for a nap."

Dean didn't argue, not even when Castiel picked up the other bottle of milk. He crawled into his bed and settled down, wondering what it would be like to be held on Castiel's lap and fed a bottle the same way. Would it be weird? Embarrassing? Or maybe it would feel the same way as it did when Castiel picked Dean up and wrapped his wings around him: safe. Something in him wanted to ask for it just so that he could see, but he didn't have the nerve.

He accepted the bottle but didn't drink it just yet, cuddling down under the blankets with his bee and his fox. Castiel kissed his forehead, turned his mobile on and left the room, leaving the door open a bit. Dean closed his eyes, but he'd only been laying there for a few minutes when he heard the door creak. His heart sped up and he slipped a hand under his pillow, thinking to grab the gun he always slept with, but of course it wasn't there. There were no weapons in the house except for the knives in the kitchen and Castiel's angel blade. He was seconds away from yelling for his daddy when two bright eyes appeared above his bed.

"Dean?"

"Charlie?" Dean said, trying not to show that she'd scared him.

Charlie stood up and climbed into the bed with him without asking, getting right under the blankets. She put her head on his pillow and whispered, "I was lonely. Mommy forgot my teddy bear."

"Oh," Dean said. "Um, I guess you can nap with me if you want."

"Thanks," Charlie said, smiling. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Do you not want to be a hatchling?"

Dean froze. He stared at the head of his fox. "I, um - it's always consensual, an angel can't -"

"Yeah, I know. An angel always has to have permission. That's not what I meant. You just - you don't seem to like any of it very much. You were embarrassed when my mommy and I got here. You were wet way before I was, but you didn't ask to be changed. And you wouldn't let your daddy give you a bottle."

"What - how did you -" Dean was so mortified he could barely get the words out.

"Your diapers are just like mine. There's a little line across the crotch that changes color when they're used," Charlie replied. "I saw it when you spread your legs. It's not a big deal."

"That's what you think. Look, I'm not a baby, okay?" Dean hissed.

"That's what I know," Charlie said bluntly, pinning him with an intent look. "Because you're wrong. You're still thinking of yourself in terms of a human. But you're not a human anymore, Dean, and no one's gonna judge you. That's all in your head. Whether you like it or not, you're an angel. A baby angel. And the sooner you start letting go and learning to enjoy it and everything your daddy is offering you, the better off you'll be."