50. Chapter 50

Dean fell asleep towards the end of the removal process. Castiel was probably more relieved than he should have been, but it was easier to work without Dean twitching or squirming whenever he or Gabriel grazed a particularly sensitive spot. He wished he could have just used his grace, but this was such a delicate process that it was best done by the hands of their vessels.

It probably took another hour to remove the last of the sheathes, and then Castiel had the chance to fully appreciate Dean’s new wings for the first time. They were still tiny, of course, spanning about two and a half feet, which meant that about half a foot would be visible on either side if Dean were standing. It would take time for them to grow to their full reach, and they wouldn’t be fully grown until Dean’s grace was. He suspected that fact would irk his little hunter, but it couldn’t be changed.

He wondered how Dean would handle learning to fly.

“Thank Father that’s over,” Gabriel said, leaning backwards and stretching his hands over his eyes. He cocked his head, studying Dean. “Interesting.”

“What is?” Castiel asked, combing his fingers through both wings. The feathers felt a little gritty to the touch and they were dull. Normally dull feathers meant that an application of wing oil was necessary, but when his fingertips found the nubs hidden along the joints, nothing happened. Which made sense, because Dean was still way too young to produce his own oil. Castiel’s would be used until Dean was old enough. They’d have to give Dean a bath first, though.

“I didn’t think hatchlings or nestlings could have this color. They almost look a little gold if you tilt your head just right.”

Castiel tried, but he couldn’t see what Gabriel was talking about. No matter how he tipped his head, Dean’s wings remained that same beautiful, coppery color. Then he realized that Gabriel was laughing at him, and he rolled his eyes and reached out to shove his brother off the couch. Gabriel never hit the ground, of course; he spread his wings to slow his descent and then just stood up.

“Take the kiddo to bed, Cassie,” he said, still grinning. “I’d say we’ve all earned a good rest, don’t you?”

“And then some,” Castiel said, rising. He very carefully lifted Dean into his arms, pleased when the baby didn’t stir in the slightest. His forehead was still warm to the touch, but with sleep, rest and food, that would go away over the next couple of days. Then Dean would be back to being the (mostly) happy baby that Castiel loved so much.

He carried Dean into his bedroom and set the baby down on the bed. His new wings wouldn’t be nearly so sensitive now that he had feathers to cushion the sensory feedback, but Castiel still laid him on his belly. Dean mumbled, eyelashes fluttering, and went to slip his thumb into his mouth. Castiel caught his hand and pushed a pacifier into his mouth instead, which was apparently good enough because Dean settled down again.

“There you go, little one,” he said softly, feeling a burst of pride. This had been so hard on Dean, and he’d weathered the storm about as well as Castiel could have hoped. The best part was that, although Dean had pushed Castiel away a few times, it had never lasted. Whereas before Dean would’ve hidden himself away no matter how terribly he was feeling and forced himself to deal with it alone, this time Dean had reached a point (quite quickly, knowing Dean’s stubbornness) where he actively sought comfort.

The days where the headstrong hunter suffered in silent pain finally seemed to be behind them, thank god. Although now that he thought about it, Dean had tried to keep the initial discomfort and itchiness from his feathers coming in to himself. Well, Castiel would take what he could get when it came to a Winchester. He smiled to himself and pulled the blanket up around Dean’s waist. Then he made sure that Dean’s fox and bee were in easy reach, switched on the mobile, and tiptoed out of the room.

Gabriel was on the couch watching television when Castiel peeked into the living room. He opted to leave his brother to it, retreating into his own bedroom. He laid down on the bed and sighed, looking up at the ceiling. For the first time in what seemed like a very long time, their nest was quiet. It almost made him feel restless in a way, but he pushed that aside and let himself relax.

Come morning, Dean was still snoozing. His diaper was still dry – probably because of how little liquid they’d been able to coax into him over the past couple of weeks – so Castiel allowed him to sleep and went into the kitchen to harvest more grace, as he was certain that Dean would be hungry when he woke up. Gabriel also groomed him, collecting some oil to be used on Dean’s wings. Just as they were finishing, Castiel felt a faint flutter against his senses that meant Dean was awake. He exchanged a smile with Gabriel and went to see to his hatchling.

Dean was buried under the covers. When Castiel walked in, a little, very red face appeared and Dean whispered, “Daddy?” in a quivery voice.

“Good morning, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”

“Yucky,” Dean mumbled. “Go away.”

That was unusual. Castiel frowned. “Dean? What’s wrong?”

“Go ‘way,” the baby whined.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

Dean was quiet for a moment, then suddenly threw the covers back and sat up, lifting his arms in a silent request to be picked up. It was still such a new sight, Dean actually asking to be cuddled and carried instead of squirming and whining that he could walk, that Castiel loved it. It was even better now that Dean was unconsciously lifting and widening his wings, the tips straining towards Castiel in a way that was very clear to him how desperately Dean wanted comfort.

“What’s the matter, little one?” he asked, immediately approaching the bed to grant the unspoken request. He lifted Dean onto his hip, supporting the baby’s bottom with his right arm. Dean’s legs wound around his waist as he buried his blushing face in Castiel’s shoulders, hands fisting in Castiel’s shirt. His diaper was wet, but that wasn’t the only thing – oh.

Suddenly, Castiel understood. Up until now, Dean seemed to have come to terms with peeing in his diaper. He still didn’t like it, but since they hadn’t been out in public it wasn’t that big of a deal. However, he was adamant about going to the potty for his other bathroom functions. Gabriel had mentioned that Dean had pooped in his diaper just once, right before his wings came out, but Castiel doubted Dean remembered that considering how feverish he’d been at the time.

This was the first time Dean had ever done that and been aware enough to know it had happened, even though Castiel suspected that his body had just done what was natural while Dean was asleep. He’d probably been sleeping so soundly and so deeply that he wasn’t even aware of it until he woke up. And that also explained Dean’s reaction; no doubt he’d been trying to figure out how to get to the bathroom to deal with it himself before Castiel found out.

Well, that wouldn’t do. There was no part of this that Castiel wanted Dean to be embarrassed or ashamed of. He carried Dean over to the changing table and set him down, but Dean refused to let go. He whimpered when Castiel tried to unclasp his hands, determinedly burrowing deeper into Castiel, as though he could ignore the inevitable. Because although Gabriel had used grace to clean up that time, Castiel had no such intentions and Dean probably knew it.

“Dean,” he said, very gently. “Sweetheart, please look at me.”

Dean shook his head.

So stubborn. A wave of fondness swept over him. Castiel hugged the baby tighter. “Dean, do you remember that talk we had in the bathroom about how I would never angry at you for using your diaper?”

That didn’t garner him an answer. If anything, Dean’s grip only tightened.

“I think you do. And I also told you that it was normal. Your body is going through so many changes right now that it’s very difficult for your mind to keep up with them all. Unimportant things will fall to the wayside. That’s why I put you in diapers in the first place, so that you wouldn’t have to worry when you had an accident.”

“S’not unimportant,” Dean mumbled into Castiel’s chest.

Castiel smiled, but only because Dean wasn’t looking at him. “In the grand scheme of things, yes it is,” he said patiently. “I’m not bothered by changing your diapers, Dean. To me, it’s no different than giving you a bottle. It’s all a part of caring for you, which is something that makes me very happy.” He ran a hand through Dean’s hair, and then down across his wings. Dean shivered at the sensation and finally lifted his head. He looked miserable, face pink from shame and embarrassment and eyes filled with tears.

“Will it keep happening?” he asked, voice barely audible.

“I think that depends on you,” Castiel admitted, suspecting he was treading on thin line. The wrong answer would upset Dean immensely. “Every hatchling is different. You might have some difficulty controlling your bowel movements now that your wings have emerged, you may not. The important thing, as far as I’m concerned, is that you know that using your diaper is a good thing. I’m very proud of you.”

“For shitting myself,” Dean said, disgusted, rubbing at his eyes.

“For dealing with a very painful process as well as you have,” Castiel corrected. And for letting Castiel hug him, instead of doing what he would have at the beginning of this and taking off into the bathroom. Castiel’s timing had probably helped there as well, but he opted to give some credit to Dean as well. Coaxing an extremely distraught and embarrassed Dean out of the bathroom was not Castiel’s idea of a fun time.

“I don’t like it.”

“I know. But you have to remember that you’re not an adult human anymore. You’re a baby angel and I’m your daddy. This is okay.” Castiel gently pushed at Dean’s shoulders, encouraging him to lay back. Swallowing hard, Dean obeyed. His face turned an even brighter shade of red when Castiel pulled apart his diaper and he whimpered.

Sensing an incoming meltdown, Castiel used his grace to fetch Dean’s bee. The toy appeared right on Dean’s chest. He grabbed it and buried his face in it, so upset that he was shaking a little bit. Castiel shushed him, patting Dean’s knee before he grabbed a couple of wipes. He cleaned Dean up as quickly as he could, making sure that he removed the mess from every inch of Dean’s genitals. Just because he could heal a rash didn’t mean he wanted Dean to go through the discomfort of developing one because Castiel hadn’t been thorough.

“There,” he said, not even two minutes later. “You’re all done, baby boy. You were so good for me.” He didn’t put another diaper back on Dean, though. Humans had an odd compulsion when it came to cleanliness, and he had observed that Dean in particular could be fastidious about his body when it came to something he thought was gross. Sitting in his own waste, even if it was only for a few minutes, certainly qualified. Now was the perfect time for a bath.

“How about a bath?”

That caught Dean’s attention. He shifted the bee a little, peeking at Castiel. “Bath?”

“That’s right. Your wings need to be washed and I imagine the rest of you does too,” Castiel said, helping him to sit up. He scooped Dean up off the changing table, kissing his sweaty forehead. “I know that was embarrassing for you, Dean. But it shouldn’t be. I enjoy taking care of you in every capacity. You can continue trying to control it if you want to, but if you decide to just use your diapers all the time I’m okay with that.”

Dean snorted at that and quickly cuddled into him, hiding his face again. Castiel let him hide and just rubbed his back as he carried Dean towards the bathroom. At first he’d thought Dean might maintain control of his bodily functions, but now he wasn’t so sure. In time, he thought Dean might become more comfortable with the diapers in all functions. Or at least, he hoped so. Otherwise, if it was proven that Dean really couldn’t control it as his fledgling grace started to grow, it was going to be a very long couple of years.