15. Two People Become One

Chapter Track: Walking on a Dream – Empire of the Sun

Two People Become One

Castiel knows something is wrong a handful of seconds before Dean comes banging into the study. He smells panic and then something sharp and distinct:

He smells omega in labor.

His book is set aside and Cas is on his feet at the same moment that Dean throws open the door and pants, “Crap.”

“You’ll be fine, Dean,” Castiel says, and sweeps across the study to plant a kiss on Dean’s forehead. He kneads his knuckles into Dean’s shoulder and threads his fingers through Dean’s hair before he says, “The pup won’t be coming immediately. We need to get you comfortable and relaxed. Would you like me to set you up on the couch while I get our bedroom ready?”

Castiel feels the panic die down in his omega as he wraps his arms around Dean and steers him down the stairs. He goes through the motions of making Dean as comfortable as possible – setting up one of the pillows from their bed on the couch so his neck will be supported and he’ll be surrounded by a familiar scent. He tucks Dean up under a blanket, makes him tea, and sets out a collection of snacks within reach. He turns on Star Wars Episode IV to get everything started – who knows how long he’ll be in the early stages of labor. It’s known to last longer for the birth of an omega’s first pup.

It hurts to leave his omega alone while he preps the bed for a sanitary, safe birth. He has to think like a doctor and not like an alpha about to become a father, and it gives him a headache enough that he leaves the bedroom to down some Advil, a glass of water, and scent Dean a little to get himself back on his feet.

Castiel strips the sheets and replaces them with a plastic undersheet and clean, crisp linens purchased solely for the purpose of ruining on this occasion. He retrieves the equipment from his closet – including what he’s ordered online for this purpose alone – and sets everything out as he’ll need it. Then, he calls Sam.

“Hey, Cas. Can I call you back?” he answers. He is likely still with Amelia on their lunch date.

“You may, but you should know that Dean has gone into labor,” Castiel says.

The intake of Sam’s breath is shaky. He mutters, “Crap,” and then, “Hang on,” before there’s muffled noise and the sounds of voices conferring. When Sam gets back on the phone, he’s panting. He says, “I’m gonna drop Amelia back at her place and then I’ll be there ASAP. You don’t think I’m gonna miss it, do you?”

Castiel replies, “No, I believe at minimum we have several hours. I’ve asked Dean to start timing the contractions.”

“Okay. Okay, cool,” Sam says, “I’m gonna hang up now.”

“All right,” Cas says, “Drive safely.”

He moves to hang up, but hears Sam say, “Hey, wait. Cas?”

“Yes?”

“Take good care of him,” Sam says.

Castiel nods gravely, even though Sam cannot see him, and says, “Of course.”

He hangs up and tucks his cellphone into the back pocket of his jeans. He has his scrubs and clothing for the birth itself laid out in the master bath, but doesn’t need to change into them yet. Instead, he exits the bedroom and goes to Dean, whose face is contorted in pain. He grunts and says, “Man, fuck this.”

“Breathe,” Castiel says. He kneels at the couch beside Dean and orders him to rotate up so he can rub his back. He’ll do anything to make his omega comfortable, anything to make him feel safe. He only switches from alpha to doctor mode when he stands to feel along Dean’s stomach, pressing in to make sure that everything feels right. Dean whines at the sensation and it makes the back of Castiel’s neck prickle, wanting to stop for Dean’s sake, but knowing he needs to be thorough for the same reason.

“Everything feels good,” he says, but moves forward to check Dean’s vitals, just in case, “Good, Dean. You’re doing very well.”

During his next contraction, Dean screws his eyes shut and white-knuckles the blanket over him. He squirms and complains through gritted teeth, “Goddamnit, Cas, this crap fucking hurts.”

“I know,” Castiel says, and stays near in hopes that his scent will grant Dean some kind of comfort. He nuzzles Dean’s neck and peppers kisses over his face, murmuring what reassurances he can while running fingers through Dean’s hair, stroking over the scalp. He says, “It’ll all be worth it when you have your pup in your arms, won’t it?”

Dean huffs and nods, coming down from the pain, and says, “Yeah.”

This is how Sam finds them. He’s shaking and sweating and looks even more terrified than Dean. It sets Dean on edge which in turn sets Castiel on edge. He knows Sam has negative connotations as far as childbirth goes, but a healthy omega birth is much different than a dangerous alpha birth. He doesn’t say as much, if only because Sam might lash out in his vulnerable state, and instead makes Sam useful by ordering him in and out of the living room to get one thing or another.

Hours tick by, the sun sets over the outer crust of mountains beyond Castiel’s windows, and Dean transitions from early labor to active labor. Every time Dean’s contractions come, closer and closer now, both Castiel and Sam leap to comfort him, to do anything they can to make him feel okay. Dean is sweating now, looking more tired and more afraid, though Sam looks at least twice as bad as his brother.

“All right,” Castiel says at last, as another contraction tides over, “It’s time to move to the bedroom. I’ll help you stand.”

Dean wobbles on his feet and Sam hovers close behind them as they make their way back to the master bedroom. Dean outright refused to wear scrubs when he and Castiel discussed what would happen during the birth, so they strip his clothes and he goes nude for the venture. He climbs into the bed and Castiel soothes him through each contraction by rubbing his back.

Dean has stopped complaining as much and mostly just sweats and hiccups and whimpers sometimes when a contraction hits him hard.

This isn’t going to be an easy labor, but then, Castiel doubted that it would be. He makes sure that Dean hydrates and keeps relaxed, murmuring to him to take it one contraction at a time. He’s hurting, and it makes Castiel hurt. The worse it gets for Dean, the worse it gets for him. And Sam is in a state worse than either of them – he paces the bedroom back and forth and shoots a panicked look at Dean every so often, demanding to know how he feels and then asks Castiel what is going on, what has to happen, how long do they have, and so on.

It’s stressing Dean out.

Castiel steers Sam aside and says, “Sam, I need you to calm down.”

“I’m not fucking calming down,” Sam says back, “Do you see how much he’s hurting? It’s not okay, man.”

“He’s about to give birth and he didn’t want anything for the pain because having drugs in his system makes him remember that fucking brothel,” Castiel bites out in response.

“You’re his alpha! You could have told him he had to!”

“Sam,” Castiel says, “That’s it. I am escorting you out. You’re stressing him out and you are suggesting that I exercise power over him that I shouldn’t have. I know you’re saying it because you’re worried, but you’re out of line.”

“But –”

“Out! Sit in the living room,” Castiel commands, “I’ll collect you when it’s over.”

Sam glowers but does obey. Castiel closes the door behind him and locks it for good measure. When he turns back, Dean is shaking from the force of another contraction. Very close, this time. It’s time to change, time to put on a brave face and be a doctor instead of the harried, fragmented mess of an alpha that he really feels like.

Hands washed, scrubs on, gloves snapped on hands and mask spritzed with alpha cologne secured over his face, he goes to tend to Dean. Carefully, he spreads Dean’s legs apart and gives him a play-by-play of what he is doing and what is happening.

Then the pup starts to come.

He tells Dean to push, to remember how to breathe, and in between instructing him like a doctor, he comforts him like an alpha, squeezing his arm and rubbing over his skin.

Dean doesn’t shout or cry or scream, but he does curse a lot – fuck, fucking damn it, goddamnit Cas, fuckity fuck fuck shit – as the pup starts to emerge.

But everything seems okay when she comes out wailing into Cas’ arms. He clears her nose and mouth. In an instant, he is in love. Castiel smiles through his mask at her and swiftly moves to sever the umbilical cord. With precision, he goes through the motions, instructs Dean on when to push to rid his body of the placenta. Separated from Dean, Castiel must clean and dry her, carefully wrap a diaper on her tiny bottom, and slide her soft Yoda hat over the fuzz of fine hair over her little head. It’s light-colored, like Dean’s. Then, he places her against Dean’s chest, where she lies squirming and worried – and at last, he sits down at Dean’s side.

Dean looks up at him blearily as Castiel pulls down his mask. He smiles down at the pup and back up to Cas and hoarsely says, “Hey, Cas. Look what I made.”

Castiel chuckles, but his gaze falls to the tiny, pink infant in Dean’s grip. He’s birthed plenty of pups before, but never has he felt such a wash of emotion at the sight of one. She is gorgeous, lovely, perfect, with her round little face and eyes still closed. She’s settled a little, content against her dad’s chest.

“We have to dress her,” Castiel finally says, and Dean’s adoring stare down at his daughter surfaces back up to Cas.

“Yeah, a’course,” Dean says.

Castiel adds, “She needs to stay warm. And I need to check her over.”

“Be careful,” Dean calls. He sounds exhausted, but proud.

The little pup wriggles when Castiel checks her over with tender hands while she cries for her omega father. She’s probably hungry, or maybe she’s still just righteously angry at being expelled from the warmth of the womb. Cas dresses her after in soft clothes, admiring her – a healthy pup, not an issue in sight, and aside from the standard vitamin shot and ointment to her eyes, she needs nothing – and brings her back, suited in her tiny onesie, wrapped up in a blanket, and head kept warm with the hat that he made.

A streak of pride bursts through his chest when he settles her back against Dean’s chest. He strokes fingers through Dean’s sweaty hair and says, “Try and get her to eat, okay? I’m going to get Sam.”

When Castiel unlocks the bedroom door and steps down the hallway, Sam is already on his feet, wringing his hands together. Castiel comes forward and places a hand on Sam’s shoulder. He can’t help but grin as he announces, “You have a niece.”

“A niece,” Sam breathes, “Is everyone okay? How’s Dean doing?”

“They’re both fine,” Castiel assures him, “Pup is in perfect health, and Dean is exhausted, but also looking good. If you’d like, you may go to them now.”

“Cool,” Sam says, and laughs. He repeats, “Cool,” before he adds, “Thanks, Cas,” and takes off toward the bedroom.

Castiel follows a couple paces behind Sam, and enters the room just in time to see Dean light up like a Christmas tree at the sight of his younger brother. His heart hangs heavy with affection in his chest as he watches them both, watches Sam come to Dean’s bedside, and Dean smiling down at his daughter before he passes her up.

“Oh, God, Dean,” Sam says, “She’s fucking amazing. Look at her.”

“Hey,” Dean says back, “Watch your fucking language. There are tender ears here.”

Sam snorts and holds her in his arms, making a sweet picture – an enormous, overwrought alpha with a tiny newborn cradled in his big hands. He rocks his niece a little before he hands her back to Dean, who presses his lips to her head through the knitted Yoda hat before settling her in his arms.

“I think,” Dean says, “I think I’m gonna call her Mary.”

“Oh,” Sam says, “Dean, that’s perfect.”

“Maybe…Mary Grace?” Dean says, “Yeah, I like that. Mary Grace Winchester-Novak.”

Dean looks down at his newborn and kisses her again before he lifts her up and offers a nipple shyly. Mary fumbles a little but seems to get the gist after a moment, happy to be held and fed by her perfect, brave omega father.

“She’s beautiful,” Castiel offers, voice raw.

Dean glances up from the pup to Castiel. A hesitant smile spreads on his face from ear to ear and he asks, “You think so?”

“I know so.”

“Good to know we’re on the same page,” Dean says, “’Cause she’s the most beautiful goddamn thing I have ever seen.”

X

Everything settles after that.

Dean and Mary both need rest and monitoring. Castiel watches over them together for a while, until Dean’s eyes start to droop. Then he takes Mary into his own arms and holds her to his chest, head supported with his palm. She’s calmer now, no longer angry at her unceremonious entry into the world.

“Hello, Mary,” he says softly, and pets a hand over her back.  

Mary wiggles a little, but otherwise makes no indication that she has heard Castiel. Carefully, he cradles her to him as he moves her to the safety of the nursery, which he has kept at a nice temperature for her to have her first sleep in.

But before Castiel settles her in her crib, he has the indescribable urge to speak to her. She won’t understand a word, but she should hear her alpha father’s voice.

Father.

Good God. He is a father. Months ago he never would have expected this. Castiel had in fact instead expected to lead the rest of his life as a general hermit, quietly reading books until it was time to die. He didn’t mind the idea; it actually sounded like a fair way to live. And now he is mated to a mouthy, wonderful, brilliant omega, and that omega has made the loveliest creature that he’s ever seen in his whole life.

“Mary,” he says, and feels almost giddy as he says it, “I’m your dad. Your alpha dad. Well. You didn’t really come from me, necessarily, but that’s okay. You are my pup, and just look at you. You are already so brilliant and so loved.”

He’s smiling, but his chest feels fit to burst with every heavy emotion in the world. He lifts her up and cradles her against his neck, right where Dean’s mark sits against his skin, where she can breathe in his scent, where she can scent that he belongs to her omega father, and that her omega father belongs to him. He can’t help but scent her as well, gathering in that perfect aroma of newborn, of family, of home.

“Forgive me,” Castiel tells her, as he rubs a hand over her small back, “I seem to be a little emotional.”

He snuffles a little and wills his wet eyes dry before he exhales and says, “I’m going to set you in your crib, now, little pup, but I won’t be very far. I’m going to be keeping an eye on you and your omega father for a few more hours before I go to sleep. I have to make sure that you’re both healthy, you know.”

With gentle hands, Castiel places Mary in her crib, on her guitar sheets. He gazes down at her there and thinks how much she fits, Dean’s perfect daughter.

Lord help him – his perfect daughter. With an exhale of emotion and a last, long look at little Mary in her blanket and the hat that he knitted, Castiel reaches up and starts the mobile spinning.

As he turns out the door, Ramble On tinkles like a lullaby.

Castiel checks on Dean immediately afterward, finding him fast asleep with the blankets pulled up to his chest. After he gently cleans everything up between Dean’s legs, Castiel does the necessary cleanup around the bedroom, disposing of the waste in a plastic biohazard bag that he seals and tosses into his trash. He takes a brief moment to wash his hands and face, noticing only when he looks up at his reflection that he is smiling like an idiot and that he can’t stop.

Sam waits for him outside when Castiel comes to brew a pot of coffee that will push him through the next few hours – and finds that one has already been made.

“I figured you would need it,” Sam says.

“Thank you,” Castiel answers to this, a little bewildered, but grateful.

“I’m sorry,” Sam says, “You know. For getting kind of nuts back there.”

“It’s all right, Sam,” says Castiel, “It can’t have been easy.”

“I thought he was going to die,” Sam says, honestly, and runs the fingers of one hand back through his hair, “I was scared shitless. I don’t even know. I kind of came to my senses when you gave me the boot, but man. I’m really glad that’s over.”

“Me too, to be perfectly honest,” Castiel says, “I’ve handled the births of hundreds of pups, but I’ve never been anxious like that before. She was worth it, though.”

“You love her.”

“Yes,” Castiel says, “I love her very much.”

“I was kinda worried,” Sam says, “That we’d have a problem. You know. ‘Cause she’s not…yours, really.”

“She is mine,” Castiel replies, “Biologically, perhaps not, but in any other sense I am her alpha father. I’m not the type to reject a pup like some barbarian.”

“I know that,” Sam says, “But like. Logic kind of went out the window tonight. And I think Dean was worried about it too, even if he never said anything. Stubborn bastard.”

Castiel nods and nurses his coffee before he sets the mug down at the kitchen table and takes the chair beside Sam, melting into it. He didn’t realize how tired is until just this moment, and wishes all at once that he could sleep, while knowing that he cannot. He downs more coffee before he says, “Congratulations on becoming an uncle tonight, Sam.”

Sam lifts his own coffee mug in return and says, “Congrats on becoming a father tonight, Cas.”

When Castiel finishes his coffee, he returns to check on omega father and pup and finds them both asleep. He returns then every twenty minutes like clockwork, and in between checking he plays card games with Sam, who remains too tightly wound to manage any kind of sleep for at least another few hours.

Mary starts to cry partway through a match of gin rummy, and Castiel goes to her. He brings her to Dean immediately, who is already awake and sitting with his back against the headboard. He holds out his arms for her and that ginger, proud smile graces his lips again before he nestles her up against his chest, urging her to latch and nurse.

While Dean feeds Mary, Castiel reaches for his freckled shoulders and presses his thumbs into the muscle, rubbing gently. Dean sighs and relaxes into it. He turns just a little and asks, “Hey, um, Cas?”

“Mm.”

“Can she stay with me a while?”

“Of course,” Castiel answers, “Mary is in perfect health, and beyond being checked in on, you two may be together as long as you need.”

“Aren’t you gonna sleep?” Dean asks.

Castiel’s lips quirk up on one side and he says, “In a couple of hours. I need to keep watch on both of you for a while.”

“Protective little alpha,” yawns Dean.

“It is a medical necessity,” Cas defends, but then admits, “But yes, I suppose every instinct in my body wants me to be awake so that I can ensure that you and our pup are safe.” He leans over and brushes his lips against Dean’s. Dean kisses back, sliding his tongue against Castiel’s before they part, breathless and stupidly happy.

“Our pup, huh?” Dean says.

“Our pup, yes.”

Yes.

Their pup.

X

Dean’s recovery is steady over the course of the next few days.

The day after Mary’s birth, he’s well enough to get out of bed, and celebrates with an enormous breakfast of pancakes drenched in syrup, with bacon and eggs and a massive glass of juice. He doesn’t let go of Mary for the entire meal – opting to keep her up against his chest in the sling that Sam purchased for them while he takes enthusiastic bites.

On the second day following Mary’s birth, she opens her eyes. Dean is the first to see it, and calls Castiel in to see her squinting up at both of them, confused and probably a little annoyed at the light that floods the nursery through the small window at the side.

They rest when they can.

Sam’s presence helps. He watches Mary when Dean and Castiel are desperate for sleep, and they often find him talking quietly to her while he reads board books or watches movies, supporting her with one arm while she stares at him. Sam is a good uncle. He knows everything that he should know about a newborn, likely leftover knowledge from when he thought that he was going to have a pup of his own. He is gentle with her, caring for her as though she might break at any moment.

And most importantly of all, Sam adores her.

Castiel knows that this period of free childcare will not last – Sam needs to return to California, to his job and his life there. Still, he seems reluctant to do so, and on one afternoon while Dean naps in the master bedroom, Sam admits to Castiel, “I don’t want to go back.”

Castiel shifts Mary where she rests on his chest and raises his brows at Sam.

“Why not?”

“I dunno,” Sam says, and scratches the back of his neck, “I just…I guess I feel like my home is here. I’d find my own place, of course. Probably in town. Set up shop again here.”

“It’s a much smaller area,” Castiel says, “Smaller clientele.”

“I don’t know about that,” Sam says, and sits forward a little further on the couch before he goes on, “Like, my name is out there now. People know they can come to me for help, and I’ve got a decent nest egg going. I could fly out where I’m needed and make here home base. I think – I dunno. I just think I knew as soon as I saw Dean that I wasn’t gonna leave and then there’s Amelia and,” – he makes a vague gesture at Mary – “She kind of sealed the deal. I don’t wanna leave.”

“I think Dean would like it if you stayed,” Castiel says, “And you know you’re welcome here for as long as you need.”

Just then, Dean appears in the living room, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He grumbles, “Uh-oh, alpha gossip.”

“Do you want to tell him?” Castiel asks Sam, casting a sideways glance at him.

“Tell me what?” says Dean. He glances suspiciously at both of them before he holds out his arms for Mary. Cas deposits her into his grip and Dean presses a wet, sloppy kiss to one round cheek, greeting, “Hey, sweetheart.”

“I’m going to stay,” Sam says, “Here. Buena Vista, I mean. I’ll still be here here while I’m looking for a place, but uh. You know. I’m not going back to California. Except maybe to grab my stuff. My lease is about to be up back there, anyway.”

A slow grin fills out Dean’s face and he asks, “You serious?”

“As a heart attack, dude,” Sam says back.

“Hell yeah, man,” Dean beams, “That’s awesome news, Sammy. Right, Mary?” Mary, obviously, does not respond to this, but that doesn’t stop Dean from using his finger to open and close her tiny mouth and, miming speaking, he says in a mock, high-pitched voice, “Yay Uncle Sammy!”

Sam laughs and says, “Cut it out, Dean.”

Dean continues to open and close Mary’s mouth and replies in his mock-voice, “You don’t tell me what to do, Uncle Sam.”

Sam smiles and shakes his head. He stands and stretches his arms over his head before he retreats to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water from the tap. He comes back with it and steps close to Dean and Mary, smiling at both of them with warm, happy eyes.

“Damn, Dean. She’s perfect.”

“Yeah,” Dean agrees, “She is.”

X

Castiel is wrapped up in Dean, arms thrown over him, nose against the back of his neck, covers tucked up all around them, when Mary starts to cry. Dean doesn’t respond to the noise right away – still sacked out from a pretty tiring day of crying infant dissatisfied with everything that they tried to do to calm her. Castiel extracts his arm from underneath Dean and brushes his lips over Dean’s cheek before he stumbles up and across the hallway to the nursery.

Carefully, he reaches into the crib and pulls Mary up against him, hushing her and soothing her with rubs over her back. She’s so tiny, just a fragile little thing, and Castiel can’t help but feel like he engulfs her.

He rocks her, and even though his singing voice isn’t anything remarkable, he lets out a few low notes and lets out a lullaby to her, finding that without thinking he’s started to sing the first verse of Stairway to Heaven. He continues to sing while he sets her onto the changing table, swapping her dirty diaper for dry and clean before he picks her back up again.

Castiel sits in the rocking chair and lets it roll down and up and back again as he sings to her.

“And as we wind on down the road, our shadows taller than our soul, there walks a lady we all know…”

This tiny little thing in his arms…this is his daughter. Cas’ chest fills up to the brim as he soothes her. Her crying starts to settle, just a little, into quieter whining and little hiccups of frustration. He feels strange as he looks at her, strange as he thinks that he is bone tired and more exhausted than he thinks he’s ever been in his entire life, even thinking back to working double shifts at the hospital and being on call for insane, long hours.

But this is also the happiest that he has ever been.

Here, in his little house in the middle of the Rocky Mountains, in a nursery he didn’t know that he would ever have in this home, with a tiny, bleary-eyed pup tucked against him. She’s the most wonderful thing that he has ever laid eyes on, even as she fusses.

Castiel clears his throat and interrupts his song to stroke his fingers through her light hair and say, “Mary, you are remarkable. I didn’t know it was possible to love somebody so much, but here we are. You are a tiny little human and you have me wrapped around your finger. How did you manage that, hm?”

Mary squints at him and seems to cock her head, as if to say, Dad, I have no idea what you are trying to talk to me about.

“That’s okay,” Castiel replies, “You’ll learn. It probably won’t be easy, but you’re smart. Soon you’ll be telling entire stories to me right back. Although, I suppose you may start with ‘daddy.’ Your daddy Dean is the one that did all the hard work, though, so make sure that you say it to him first.”

At last, Mary starts to quiet. She wraps her little fist around the forefinger on Castiel’s right hand but still blinks up at him, expression one of a person trying to puzzle something out. He doesn’t blame her. There is a lot to puzzle out when you’re only a handful of days old.

“There’s my girl,” he says, “Maybe you could sleep again now? I will live without sleep, but your daddy Dean needs to rest so that he can heal up.”

Just as Castiel thinks that she intends to cooperate, he stands, and Mary starts to wail again. He returns to rocking her in his arms, and picks up where he left off in singing Stairway to Heaven, in hopes that that maybe helped before, and might help again.

“Who shines white light and wants to show…how everything still turns to gold,” he sings.

As a doctor, pups seem simple. You feed them, you clothe them, you change them when they soil themselves. You tend to their basic needs. As a father, this is entirely different, and if Castiel is being honest with himself, he is actually scared out of his wits. A seven pound infant terrifies him, because he isn’t going to solely care for Mary in a clinical manner. He’s meant to nurture and love her, and those needs are far more complex than the base needs of wellness.

There’s so much that he can screw up in the matters of raising a pup, so many things that could go terribly wrong and end with Mary telling her friends as an adult that if only her parents hadn’t messed her up, she might have made it out okay.

But that terror mixes with warmth and a blast of affection as Mary reaches for Castiel’s t-shirt and closes her tiny fist around a section of cotton. She’s hushing again, winding back down, though she wiggles a little in his hands.

“And if you listen very hard, the tune will come to you at last. When all are one and one is all…”

Castiel kisses Mary and places her in her crib as he stumbles over the last verses of the song. She shakes her hand at him but doesn’t take up crying again. With a smile, he turns back, and sees Dean behind him, shoulder leaning up against the doorframe, and a hazy, happy smile on his face.

“…To be a rock and not to roll,” Castiel finishes.

Dean steps forward and kisses him.