8. Chapter 8

It took a long time for Dean to settle down again, not that Castiel was surprised. At this point, it was amazing that Dean was still willing to sleep at all and didn't just try to just fight it until he'd done himself harm.

He continued to cuddle Dean while his little boy slowly sipped at his drink. At the same time, he resumed his chat with Gabriel, knowing that Dean would be more comfortable if he believed that there was less attention on him. The idle talk about heaven and how the other angels were doing was no longer as interesting as it had been before the sound of Dean falling out of bed and throwing up had broken into their conversation.

Castiel never wanted to see that expression on Dean's face again. He'd known that Dean's nightmares were terrible and bordered on torture, but actually seeing it playing out right in front of him was horrible. He held Dean a little tighter and carded his fingers through Dean's hair, barely listening to Gabriel's detailed story about Hannah and Inias, too focused on trying to soothe him.

The moon was starting to fall and Gabriel had moved on to a boring rant about Raphael by the time Castiel felt Dean's head come to rest on his shoulder as his body finally, if somewhat unwillingly, relaxed into an exhausted sleep.

"Finally. I thought he'd never go to sleep," Gabriel said, breaking off mid-sentence. "You weren't kidding about his nightmares, were you?"

"No," Castiel said quietly, not daring to stop the gentle movement of his fingers across Dean's head. He was worried that if he did, Dean would wake up again. And Dean already looked heartbreakingly vulnerable, his cheeks still stained with tears that he probably wasn't even aware he had cried. His soul was crying for comfort.

"I can't believe you didn't give him grace, Cassie. Wasn't that the whole point?" Gabriel sounded genuinely disappointed in him. It stung.

"I told you, I was hoping to give him more time to get used to this. Dean's having a hard time adjusting. I didn't want him to feel as though consuming the grace had forced him into it," Castiel replied, working hard to keep any trace of irritation from his tone. While grace would not give Dean the mentality of a child or any such nonsense like that, it would amplify and push all of his human emotions much closer to the surface. All of those things that Dean was an expert at repressing would suddenly become overwhelming, and he would no longer be able to push them away like he did now. Add in the fact that he wouldn't have alcohol or sex to use as coping mechanisms and it could spell disaster.

Becoming an angel did not strip away human emotion because the creation of grace did not completely eradicate a human soul, but it did transform the soul into something new. That was partly why nestlings acted like children during the process; it was the soul's struggle to accept, understand and adapt. Dean would be no different, but the things that he would have to face would be so much more. Castiel was anticipating a lot of tears, frustration and anger in the near future as Dean consumed more grace and changed.

"Dean-o's smarter than that," Gabriel said, though he seemed a little doubtful. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, looking at the two of them with a cocked head. "You'll just have to explain it to him so he understands."

"You make it sound so easy."

"You've got Dean Winchester sitting on your knee in a pull-up and he just drank from a sippy cup without arguing about it. And all of that without a lick of grace to smooth the way. At this rate, you're going to have him in diapers and drinking from a bottle before the month is out. I'd say you'll be fine."

Castiel frowned at his brother and cupped Dean a bit more protectively, pleased when Dean unconsciously burrowed into his warmth a little more. The sippy cup was hanging from his hands, ready to fall, and Castiel took it and set it down safely on the floor. He didn't want to risk Dean waking up when it fell. "If his soul is to heal, he needs to accept this."

"He drank the grace willingly. I didn't force it down his throat."

"Then..." Castiel paused, his brows furrowing. "You did give it to him?" He eased his grip on Dean's waist, wondering why Dean hadn't complained about a burning sensation when he drank. Raw angelic grace was caustic to humans, and nestlings were often burned during the initial consumption until their bodies grew used to it. But when he touched Dean's throat with a gentle finger, he found no problems beyond basic irritation from the vomiting and crying. His confusion deepened when Gabriel chuckled.

"You really don't know? You can't even guess?" he asked, the gold in his eyes deepening with his amusement. "It's your bond, little bro. Dean isn't like your average human. You raised him from perdition. You cradled his soul in your grace while you reconstructed his body from ashes. That sort of thing has a lasting effect."

Uncertain of how he was supposed to respond to that, Castiel just stared at his brother. He hadn't even considered what their bond might mean when he asked Dean to become his nestling. He looked down at the boy in his arms, suddenly fearful. There were stories, rare though they might be, of humans that were incapable of forming grace. Their souls were incompatible and the process of trying to become an angel would eventually kill them. The idea of that happening to Dean because of something Castiel had insisted on was horrifying.

"Do you think... it won't hurt him, will it?" he whispered.

Gabriel shook his head, reaching out to clasp a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "Relax. If anything, I think it will make the process easier on him. Might even speed it up. His soul still recognizes you. It wants to accept your grace. He won't fight you the way someone else might."

Castiel leaned into the touch without really thinking about it, still looking down at Dean as he processed Gabriel's words. Honestly, anything that would make this easier on Dean was welcome. The Winchesters always had it so hard. It was about time that something went their way. He sighed. "If it speeds up the process, that means Dean may become even more volatile than I expected."

Gabriel's smirk was truly wicked. "Better you than me. I don't mind baby-sitting every once in a while, but I don't change diapers, handle temper tantrums or do 3am wake-up calls."

"You don't even sleep," Castiel said, rolling his eyes. Yet he was grateful to Gabriel for taking it as fact that he would get that far with Dean. He hadn't really talked about this endeavor with anyone else, mostly because he wasn't sure the other angels would approve of who he'd chosen for his nestling. It was comforting to know that he could call on Gabriel if he had to.

"You're right, I don't. But if the kids upstairs don't start settling down, I might have to start. I have a permanent stress headache, and I don't even get headaches."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Cassie." Gabriel stood up, rolling his shoulders to loosen the tension. He flexed his wings, tugging out a stray feather and flicking it carelessly away. "Just makes me remember the reason I left heaven in the first place. Take good care of your nestling, yeah? Let me know if there's any problems."

"Gabriel -" Castiel cut himself off and scowled at the empty place where the archangel had been only a second ago. At one point he might've tried to go after him, but he couldn't leave Dean alone and Gabriel damn well knew it. For the time being, he had no choice but to let the matter go - but he would definitely be asking questions later, because the last thing he wanted was for Gabriel to pull another disappearing act. Gabriel was far too good at hiding for that.

He stood up carefully, cradling Dean in his arms, and carried his little boy inside. He didn't bother putting Dean back to bed, instead choosing to put him down on the couch where he would be close. Dean didn't wake up, but he whined a little when Castiel pulled away from him and latched onto his bee as soon as Castiel offered it to him. Castiel had to smile, gently smoothing his hair across Dean's hair. At the same time, he stroked Dean's soul with his grace. It pained him to see how Dean arched into the touch, like he was desperate for affection.

The sound of a ringing phone shattered the moment and Castiel frowned, instantly creating a sphere of silence around Dean so that he wouldn't wake up. Dean's soul clung to him when he stepped away, and he continued to soothe him with his grace as he sought out the annoying sound. It didn't take him long to find that the source was Dean's phone. Because, and only because, the name on the screen was familiar, he answered.

"Hello, Sam."

"Cas!" There was an awful lot of relief and worry poured into that one word. Sam took a deep breath, the hitch audible, and then he burst out, "Oh my god, dude, finally, I was starting to think that I was gonna have to leave school and hunt Dean down just to make sure that he was okay, I mean, I know that Bobby said he'd been talking to him and he was fine, but he hasn't answered my calls since a couple days after I left and -"

"Sam, breathe," Castiel interrupted. "What do you mean, Dean hasn't been answering your calls?"

"Just what I said. I haven't heard from him in forever." Sam was sounding increasingly mad. "He must have memorized my schedule, because every few days while I was in class I'd get this stupid message saying he was still alive. Then he wouldn't answer me when I called back. I didn't even know he was with you until Bobby called me this morning and told me what was going on."

Before this conversation, Castiel wouldn't have thought there was anything that could have made him more concerned about Dean. This did it. He turned around to look at the little ball on the couch, wanting to make sure Dean was still there, and said, "Bobby was right. He is here with me."

"Where exactly is here?" Sam asked.

"I can't tell you that."

"Why not?"

"Because Dean is not doing very good right now. You left for Stanford because you needed a break from hunting. This is Dean's way of taking a break," Castiel said frankly, figuring that there was no point in hiding the truth of the matter. Sam was at least as stubborn as Dean, if not more so. If he thought that Castiel was hiding something from him, particularly something that related to Dean's health, he wasn't above trying to track them down. The last thing Dean needed was to see his brother right now and be reminded of his old life.

"... You mean you actually got him to agree to a break from hunting?" Sam said, stunned.

"Yes."

"Jesus, Cas, what did you do? Tie him down until he agreed to this whole nestling idea?"

Castiel smirked. "Not exactly," he said, watching fondly as Dean squirmed into a more comfortable position. Again, he touched Dean with his grace and calmed him back into a deeper sleep. "I offered him a different perspective, if you will. One that he's still becoming accustomed to. And that's why I can't tell you where we are, Sam. Dean needs time. I'm worried that seeing you again might trigger his impulse to continue hunting."

"Yeah." Sam was quiet, for a moment, and then he practically whispered, "Was it bad?"

"It was," he confirmed, inwardly grimacing at the memory of Dean in that hotel room. He had never seen a more broken shell of a human.

"God. I should've stayed with him. I -"

"Enough, Sam," Castiel ordered, pleased when Sam actually obeyed. This was a delicate subject at best. Even he, who knew Dean Winchester better than anyone, struggled with identifying the bare bones of the Winchester brothers. He cleared his throat. "You wanted to go to Stanford. There's nothing wrong with that."

Sam's silence spoke volumes about whether or not he considered that to be true, but in the end he just changed the subject. "Can you just... ask Dean to call me?"

"I will. I can't promise that he'll do it, but I will relay your message."

"Thanks, Cas. And - and thanks for, you know," Sam cleared his throat, "helping him."

"Don't thank me," Castiel said softly, worried about the youngest Winchester. From the sound of his voice, it didn't seem like Sam was doing all that well either. "And don't worry about Dean. I'll take care of him. Just... take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will. Thanks," Sam repeated, and then he hung up.