Fic: Dude, I Flunked The Baby

Author: Duckie
Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural
Rating: M.
Genre/ Pairing: Drama, Crack, Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: General for Season 4.
Warnings: Mpreg, smut, crackish, twisted ending..
Summary: Something's growing and kicking inside Dean and it was not a demon.
Notes: written for [info]gale_winchester, who tossed the idea at the Plot Bunny Adoption Center (and I just had to pick it up). However, I decided to make it a pregnant Dean, although I know there are tons of knocked-up Dean stories already. I hope you like this.

Beta by downfall35


Dean woke up feeling so completely nauseous that he had to dash off to the bathroom right away to empty his stomach into the toilet bowl through his throat.

“Dude!” Sam called from outside the bathroom. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah!” Dean snapped. He was having a major headache to come with the nausea. “Just a bad hangover.”

“I told you...”

“Knock it off!”

“Okay. Want some coffee?”

“Yeah, I guess yeah.”

One minute later, Sam entered the bathroom with a cup of steaming black coffee, and Dean pumped the content of his stomach into the closet again.

“Dude, you smell so bad,” he groaned as he slumped to the floor.

“I haven't showered,” Sam raised an eyebrow. “You took residence of the bathroom, remember?”

He handed the cup to Dean, who frowned at the sight of the liquid.

“What is this?” Dean demanded, suddenly feeling unhappy, holding back another pang of nausea as the aroma of the coffee hit his nose.

“Ummm... coffee?”

“No cream and sugar?”

“Dean, you never drink coffee with cream and sugar.”

“Does that mean that we don't have cream and sugar here?”

“We do.”

“Well, if it's not too much to ask...”

“It's not.” Sam swung around to go back to the room and Dean threw up again.

When Sam came back with white coffee, he told Dean, “You look like shit and you smell like shit and you sound like you have a beast inside your stomach and it's practically growling.”

* * *

The nausea and the headache continued as they went to the diner for breakfast. It was only sheer will that helped Dean to enter while all kind of scents, smells and aromas attacked him in the diner and made him feel even sicker. He felt floored.

A pretty waitress greeted them cheerfully and Dean barely noticed her.

“Coffee and whatever is the breakfast of the day,” said Sam.

Dean found himself examining the salt shaker.

“Dean?” Sam called out.

Dean lifted his face. “Yeah?” he asked lazily.

“Anything particular you want for breakfast, or shall I order for you?”

“Oranges,” Dean said absent-mindedly. “If they have oranges.”

“Dean, you don't eat oranges for breakfast,” Sam hissed. “We have three hundred miles to go today; you need your energy booster.”

“Uh, yeah. Just get it boxed then, I'll eat it when I feel like it,” Dean said. “Orange juice?”

* * *

Dean managed to drive as far as the town's boundary when he gave up. He felt like his bones had melted.

“You drive,” he told Sam as he pulled up.

“Now that's what I call a miracle,” Sam gleefully accepted.

“Get out,” Dean snapped. And when Sam did, he wriggled his body to the passenger's seat.

He fell asleep two minutes later.

* * *

He woke up confused feeling like he woke up in a different time period. He did not recognize anything; he did not recognize the scenery outside. Sam had shaken his body so hard it felt like he was ripped out from a dream, except that he did not remember whether he dreamt or not.

“What?”

“You might feel more comfortable sleeping in a bed,” Sam informed him.

“What?” Dean frowned, as he realized that it was dark outside the car.

“Yeah, we have arrived and I have booked a room for us. You look seriously ill. I'll find a doctor or something to check on you.”

“No, don't worry. I'm just tired. Next time, don't drive non-stop like that. Didn't you stop for lunch?”

Sam gave him a look that suggested that he had just said something really crazy. “I did, Dean.”

* * *

Dean was turning the door knob around to open the door of the motel room when Castiel showed up. “Hi, Dean,” he said. He kept his right hand behind his back.

Dean smiled at him weakly. “Hi, Cas.”

Castiel looked romantic. His icy blue eyes looked much, much softer than usual and the only times Dean saw such thing was when Castiel was overcoming orgasms. Castiel smelled nice too. Like an angel which he was.

“I missed you, Dean,” Castiel's voice trailed off. “I wonder if we can...”

Dean took a deep breath. “I don't know, Cas. I don't really feel well. And besides, Sammy had been driving three hundred miles. I don't think he's up to sleep in the car so that we can have some quality time, and I won't pay for another room, and I surely don't want to do it in the car.” He felt rather sorry for the Impala actually.

Castiel brought his right hand forward. “I brought you flowers, Dean.”

Dean blinked at the sight of yellow tulips. “You're so sweet, Cas,” Dean exclaimed as he threw his arms around Castiel's neck.

“I'll get us a room,” Castiel whispered softly as he tightened his arms around Dean's waist.

* * *

Dean found it was a big relief that Castiel did not insist on getting a room in the same motel. They went to a hotel, three blocks away from the motel. Dean felt a bit silly to enter the lobby with Castiel, like he was some kind of a hustler and Castiel his sugar daddy. He had always entered a hotel or motel's lobby with Sam, two adult men together, and he never felt anything, because Sam was his brother, but for reasons he did not know, he felt awkward to walk by Castiel's side towards the front desk.

Perhaps it was because he was still carrying the flowers Castiel gave to him.

“I need a room for this night,” Castiel told the young man at the front desk. “With one big bed.”

Dean almost groaned at the lack of subtlety, but it quickly turned into disbelief when the young man simply handed Castiel a room key. He did not even ask Castiel's name or how he was going to settle the room charge.

“Thank you,” Castiel took the key and led Dean by his arm away.

“Dude, you should do that to us too,” Dean said as they entered the room. Castiel closed the door behind him. “That'll save us a lot of money.”

Castiel did not say anything, he already reached for the waistband of Dean's jeans and pulled him closer for a deep kiss.

The flowers fell on the floor as Dean lifted his hands to cup Castiel's face.

The kiss felt exceptionally affectionate to him, like he had been feeding his soul solely on the kiss all of this time. He slipped his tongue between Castiel's lips and let himself be ravished rather mercilessly by an amorous Castiel.

Soon, Castiel's hands were everywhere, groping his ass, slipping beneath his t-shirt to touch his stomach and chest, then going down to find the button and zipper of Dean's jeans, undoing them in one flick of fingers.

Then Castiel slipped his hand inside Dean's underwear and Dean stiffened and broke the kiss.

“No, please, not there,” he murmured on Castiel's lips.

“But you like me touching you,” Castiel reminded him, “especially there.”

“No, not tonight,” Dean sighed. “Please.”

“Alright,” Castiel pulled his hand out of Dean's briefs. He reached for the hem of Dean's shirt, intending to push it up.

“Ummm... Cas.” Dean caught his wrist.

“Yes?” Castiel tilted his head as he looked at Dean

Dean grinned. “Can I take a bath first, please?”

Castiel nodded. “We'll take a bath later, together.”

“I... uhhh... I stink. I just spent the entire day on the road.”

“It does not matter to me.”

“It does, to me,” Dean chuckled

“It never bothered you before.”

“It does, now.”

“I'll give you a tongue bath.”

Dean swallowed hard at the mention of a tongue bath.

“I...,” he took a deep breath, then he raised an eyebrow. “Please?”

Castiel's eyes softened. “Yes, of course.” He stepped back.

* * *

Dean felt better after a long, hot shower. He went back to the room to find Castiel waiting for him all naked. Dean grinned so widely, he felt his face split.

They stumbled together to the bed with mouths fused tightly and groins pressed on each other's hard. Lying flat on his back, Dean lifted his knees up, keeping them apart to give Castiel all access. Castiel braced on his elbows as he actively ground their hips together while Dean secured them with his arms around Castiel's neck.

At the end, Castiel still gave him a tongue bath, starting from his neck and Dean whimpered. Castiel did not rush, he paid special attention to each inch of Dean's skin and when he reached Dean's belly button, Dean was as hard as steel.

He groaned when Castiel proceeded down without touching his erection at all.

“Nonono, Cas, no,” he breathed heavily as he slipped his fingers into Castiel's hair. “Oh God, please.”

Castiel ignored him, he went down licking Dean's inner thighs with his hands pushing Dean's legs apart even wider. Dean bucked, closing his eyes tightly. The pleasure had gotten too much to contain and he felt like his head was going to explode anytime soon.

And Castiel just went on, teasing his perineum before going back to his thighs.

Dean wetted his lips with his tongue; he was completely unable to breathe.

He just wished...

He just wished...

Then it took him by surprise when Castiel suddenly ran his tongue swiftly along his hard-on, from the base to the head, giving the little slit a flicker, and he exploded so hard, so hurtful and Dean screamed as he grabbed the bed sheets, gripping tightly, and he arched sharply, feeling torn and drown all at the same time.

It took him several minutes to get over the shock, eyes tightly closed, body relaxing slowly. When he opened his eyes, he saw Castiel's eyes, looking down at him like two sets of ocean of desire.

“You okay?” Castiel asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I guess,” Dean shifted, wondering whether he really screamed when he came just now. He had never screamed during sex before. Women screamed. He did not.

“Wanna give me a ride?” asked Castiel again.

* * *

Castiel's passion wore Dean out completely, but he preferred to think that it was because he was not feeling super that night that he had to give up after second round. The nausea came back although this time it was not strong enough to make him to want to throw up. However, he felt rather feverish and very warm, like sunlight was beaming inside him. He lay next to Castiel, making sure that they had skin contact as much as possible.

He could not sleep. Castiel was snoring softly into his hair and he could not sleep. He felt something was moving – swimming - inside his stomach, and he took it as hunger. He wanted Thai food really, really badly, something with lots of spices, hot, cold and sour mixed together.

He wondered if there was a Thai restaurant in this small town. He doubted it. Or if there was, he doubted it was still open.

He wondered if he could get a tom yam paste in the local supermarket. Or at least, extra spicy instant noodles.

“You okay?” Castiel whispered into his hair.

“I want instant noodles, Cas,” he said it before he could stop it.

“Instant noodles?”

“Yeah. You know, the one that came in a cup and all you need to do is add hot water. I want one with curry or tom yam flavour.”

“Tom yam?”

“Thai hot and sour soup.”

There was a moment of silence as Castiel seemed to digest the information.

“Mmmm, okay. Let's go find it.”

“Can you go, Cas? Please?”

* * *

Naturally, there was no such thing like curry or tom yam flavored instant noodles in the local 24/7 shop, or Castiel did not really know where to look, although Castiel defended himself by saying that he had asked the shop attendant.

“Anyway, I bought you these,” Castiel lifted the plastic bag from the shop and Dean could see Pringles in it. “It’s sweet and sour flavour.” Castiel shrugged.

“Oh I don’t know,” Dean turned his back to Castiel. He had not left the bed at all. “I want instant noodles.” He believed that Castiel did not even buy the Pringles. Perhaps he snagged them from the rack and no one noticed.

“We’ll get instant noodles in the morning,” Castiel put the plastic bag on the night stand for easy access. “We’ll get whatever you want in the morning.” He shrugged from his trench coat.

Dean did not say anything. He suddenly felt upset because in his opinion, Castiel did not make enough effort to find instant noodles for him. He wondered why Castiel did not just make things happen or available, like a magician or a wizard or something.

“Dean,” Castiel reached for Dean’s shoulder but Dean shook it off. He took a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll find instant noodles for you. Tom yam flavoured?” And he disappeared.

* * *

Dean did not know about the instant noodles until around noon the next day, when he woke up. Castiel was sitting on the chair by the window, fully dressed but sans his ugly trench coat and Dean felt utterly relieved. Castiel looked ghostly.

“You should've woken me up,” Dean jumped out of the bed. “I had to do some interviews with Sam this morning. He would be very angry.”

“He is angry,” Castiel informed him.

Dean cursed, then dashed to the bathroom.

He threw up once, then he brushed his teeth and he threw up again, which was amazing because he did not remember eating or drinking at all anything the day before, except a glass of orange juice for breakfast and Castiel's semen. He blamed it on the latter although he had never felt sick before just from swallowing Castiel’s essence. He managed to hold nausea down as he showered, the scent of the soap calming him down a bit, then he threw up for the third time before he left the bathroom.

“You're really sick, you should see a doctor,” Castiel dropped more useless information.

“I'm fine,” Dean said as he pulled his leather jacket on. He felt huge, like his body had inflated twice his size in the period of two hours. But his clothes fit, and there was nothing wrong with his body. He suffered an allergy once, in the past, where his face, fingers and toes had swollen very badly. He did not have that at the moment so he was certain that he was fine.

And he still felt like something was swimming inside his stomach.

He had reached the door when Castiel called him up.

“Yeah?” Dean turned around.

“You forgot this,” Castiel held up a plastic bag containing instant noodles in cups.

Dean went back to the bathroom to pump his stomach out.

* * *

“So you were not well enough to drive but you were to have sex all night long with Castiel?!” Sam snorted in complete annoyance, and like Castiel had told him before, he was really, really angry that he did not care to keep his voice down.

Dean inhaled deeply, not feeling up to having a verbal fight with Sam. “Sam, look, it was not really all night long, I slept most of the time.”

“Oh yeah? And you forgot that you were supposed to go do some interviews with me?”

“Sam, look, I'm sorry.”

“The point is, Dean, you slacked off! We have a job to do, a case to solve, and you just disappeared and made yourself unreachable.”

“Dude, what's wrong with you? You often disappear with Ruby too.”

“Yes, but not in the middle of an investigation like this! And I’m still contactable.”

Dean fell back on the bed, putting his arm across his face. His temple was throbbing with sharp headache. He took a deep breath again, then realized that he was holding back tears.

“If you're sick, you should go to the doctor, and not have an all night angelic orgy,” Sam snapped again.

“Sam, I told you I...”

“Yes, you're sorry. I got it. Now why don't you make yourself useful and go to the library and do some research? You look well enough to browse the net for some information.”

“Where are you going?” Dean asked.

“The police station,” Sam answered as he was headed for the door.

Dean did not get up right away after Sam left. He still fought tears from rolling down from the corner of his eyes. What was wrong with Sam? Why did he have to be that angry? They slacked off from time to time, they disappeared on their own too from time to time, why did Sam get very angry this time just because he spent the night with Castiel?

He was still staring at the ceiling when he heard the gurgling of his stomach. He was really hungry. He had to force himself to eat, even if he ended up throwing up everything again.

He pushed his body to sit and he felt that swimming thing inside his stomach kicked.

* * *

The diner prepared mini sandwiches in a box and a bottle of orange juice and the librarian was kind enough to let him take those into the library. Dean thought that he must have looked so messed up to earn a pitiful look from the librarian.

He set the sandwich and orange juice at a table at the far end of the library and went to browse for books. He found six books and to carry them to the table required sheer effort. By the time he slammed them on the table, he felt like he had run out of his energy.

He sat down, drank the orange juice and felt a little relief that it was able to hold down the nausea. He took a piece of sandwich and ate it, washing every bite with orange juice.

He ran out of orange juice before he even started the first book and he suddenly felt miserable.

And sleepy.

He blamed it on the sunlight that flooded through the window nearby.

* * *

“We’re closing,” the librarian told him, she still had that pitiful look in her eyes. “You okay?”

“What time is this?” asked Dean.

“Five.”

Time did fly when you were reading. Except that he had not opened any of the books yet.

“What happened?”

“You fell asleep. I was gonna wake you up earlier but you look… ummm… you look sound and peaceful, so I thought you really needed it.”

He slept the entire morning, stayed up for merely two hours, and he fell asleep again.

Perhaps he was seriously sick.

“Do you need help? Where are you staying? You’re not local,” the librarian kept on talking.

“No, no, I’m fine. I’m staying at the motel. Thank you, and sorry for all the troubles.”

“No trouble at all,” the librarian smiled.

* * *

Dean walked to the motel, feeling completely low in spirit. He stopped by a minimarket to buy some bottles of orange juice. He felt terrible and he really wanted to sleep.

Sam had not been back from whatever he was doing in the police station. There was no sign of Castiel either. That made Dean feel terribly lonely. However, he shook it off. He stripped to his boxers and he fell face down on the bed.

* * *

“That’s it, I’m calling a doctor,” Sam hammered down the ultimatum. He looked very angry from coming back after a long day of work to find that Dean, once again, had been sleeping most of the day without getting any work done at all.

Dean stood by the window, still in his boxers, drinking more orange juice. He felt bloated, like he was carrying a drum around his waist. But his stomach was still flat and well-toned as ever.

He rubbed his stomach and that was when he felt it.

He frowned. Then he whined, “Sa~aaamm. Something is kicking inside me.”

* * *

Dean held his breath as the old doctor listened to his stomach through the stethoscope. He hated the cold feel of the instrument against his skin and he hated the doctor's fingertips touch his skin. Sam was standing next to the bed with troubled look and Castiel stood behind him, expressionless and definitely invisible to other people than Dean. Dean kept his eyes on Castiel's, feeling somewhat calmer that way.

“I don't know,” the doctor said. Sam found him through the motel's receptionist and he was happy to do a house call so Dean did not have to go to his clinic or the hospital. “I hear something that sounds like a heartbeat, which is not likely. You will need a more thorough examination.”

“Like what?” Sam spoke before Dean could ask the same thing.

“USG. Endoscopy.”

“But USG is for pregnant women!” Sam chuckled.

“Not always. Basically, USG can be used to determine anything inside the stomach,” the doctor explained patiently.

“You mean, there's something living inside me?” asked Dean.

“Yeah, but it can be a mistake. It can be...,” the doctor bit his lower lip. “I don't know. Get a USG, that's all I can say.”

“Are you suggesting that my brother is pregnant?” asked Sam.

“I did not suggest anything,” the doctor said.

“And by USG, do you mean that I have to see a gynecologist?” Dean added.

“Yeah, usually, yeah. Or you can go to the hospital's ER and ask for such thing, then you don't need to see a gynecologist.”

“I'm not going to see any gynecologist, or go to any hospital's ER,” Dean blurted.

The doctor shrugged. “It's up to you.” He got up. “I suggest that for the time being you get some rest. Don't do anything strenuous. Don't lift heavy things…”

“Are you suggesting that I’m pregnant?” Dean cut him off.

* * *

“Dean, for the last time, you’re. Not. Pregnant!” Sam practically shouted on the top of his lungs and it was good that they were not in the motel room, they were in the Impala and Sam was driving. “You can’t be. You’re a man. How difficult it is to remember that?”

“Yes, but there are some cases where men got pregnant,” Dean said.

“Impossible. They’re just scams. Hoaxes. They’re just people trying to get into the limelight. Cheaply.”

“Then what do you think I have in my stomach?”

“A demon.”

“So, everything has to go back to the demon thing.”

“Dude, if you have a better explanation, then feel free to tell me. I’ve called Bobby and he confirmed that yes, there are some demons or supernatural things that can take residence inside your body and eat your soul.” They were actually on their way to see Bobby.

“Then, what is this supposed to mean?” Dean tapped his chest where the anti-possession tattoo.

“I don’t know. We’ll find out soon.”

Dean looked away, to the dark world outside the Impala. He felt very, very lonely. He wished Castiel was there, so he could snuggle in the warmth of Castiel’s body. Where was Castiel when he needed him? Why was it that Castiel only showed up when he needed Dean and never the other way around? It was not fair.

“Supposed it’s a demon,” he spoke, his voice trailing. “How are we going to eliminate it?” Somehow the word “kill” was unbearable. “Are you going to get me to drink holy water or are you going to get me to stand inside a devil’s trap until it gets out of my body.”

“We’ll figure out the best way without hurting you,” answered Sam, but Dean was not convinced.

When the Impala bounced on the bumpy road, Dean winced because whatever it was inside his stomach kicked him again.

* * *

“What if it’s a demon?” Dean asked. He stood in front of Bobby’s door, hesitant to go inside knowing very well that Bobby had the devil’s trap symbol drawn on the ceiling and the floor.

“Dude!” Sam snapped.

“You’re the one said that this is a demon.”

“I said…,” Sam stopped to take a deep breath. “Okay, it’s not positive yet that it’s a demon. And if it is, we’ll figure…”

“Yeah, yeah, you told me that already,” Dean cut him off. “And why are you so impatience?”

“Because you’re not making any sense!”

“Sammy, there’s something living inside my body and I don’t know what it is and you can’t bear with me?”

“Dean..,” Sam gaped but he was saved by Bobby opening the door.

“You two bicker like an old married couple,” Bobby commented.

“Whatever,” Sam said as he slinked into the house. “I need a break.”

Dean frowned. “He can’t say that. I didn’t ask him to drive all the way here. He insisted.”

“Just. Come. In,” Bobby said flatly but with a tone that could make demons run for the hills.

“What if…”

“No what-ifs,” Bobby snapped.

Dean swore that the whole world had turned to him, even Bobby, who was usually very sensible.

Where was Castiel anyway?

Taking a deep breath, Dean carefully stepped into the house. He walked three steps before Bobby said, “It’s not a demon. I suggest you get a USG.” He didn’t even look at Dean. It was Sam who stared at him with an expression that suggested that he would rather have the earth beneath him open up and swallow him than take Dean to a gynecologist.

* * *

“I don’t think we really need to do this,” said Sam as he pulled over in front of a private maternity clinic. Ellen gave them the address of the clinic. She even offered to go with them, but Dean turned her down, confident that it was nothing that needed a woman’s involvement.

“Dude!” Dean snapped. “I’m the one who’s getting the USG. All you have to do is be there. Consider this a preliminary experience just in case one day you want to have off-spring of your own.”

Sam slumped. “Yeah, okay,” he nodded.

“Good. Now behave like a real man,” Dean said as he moved to open the car’s door.

“Hi, Dean,” Castiel poked his head into the car’s window, startling Dean.

“Jesus, Cas, next time you decide to show up, find a better time!”

Castiel’s eyes darkened.

“No, no, no, it’s okay, Cas,” Sam quickly said. “In fact, I – we are grateful you’re here at the moment. Could you… uh… accompany Dean to see the doctor? I have a grocery shopping to do. If you go with Dean, I can go shopping. It’s like killing two birds with one stone.”

Castiel stared at Sam. “Why would you want to kill the birds?”

“Don’t mind him,” Dean got out of the car. “Come on, let’s get this over with as quickly as possible. And take off the trench coat. It’s ugly.”

* * *

Apparently Castiel brought a box of chocolates, and so Dean sat on the comfy sofa in the clinic's waiting room with the chocolates on his lap. He was grateful for the chocolate because it provided distraction from discomfort of being stared at by pregnant women around him, their eyes flickering with curiosity and amusement. He suspected that although the nurse to whom he reported himself did not even blink at him, she too had ideas under the blonde hair and little nurse’s hat.

Castiel sat next to him and thanked his Father that he took his ugly coat off at the reception otherwise Dean would go mad. He really wanted to shred the coat into pieces but he knew that Castiel would be able to put it back together in a snap of fingers. Castiel looked suspiciously calm and that made Dean even antsier.

“Where did you get this?” he asked, examining the box printed with German words all over.

“Berlin,” Castiel said.

Dean opened the box to see individually wrapped chocolate candies, each had words such as Amaretto or Puerto Rico and percentage on the wrap.

“It's the percentage of the chocolate, the biggest is the darkest, the smallest is the lightest,” Castiel explained and Dean treated him with a what?-Do-you-think-I'm-a-moron look. Castiel cleared his throat.

“You don't think I should share them, do you?” he asked, jerking his chin gently towards the women in general while his hands clutched the box possessively.

“Oh no, but if you insist, I can get another box...”

“Oh no no no,” Dean shook his head. It was weird enough they were sitting in the waiting room of a maternity clinic, the last thing he wanted was for Castiel to pull something like a box of chocolate from thin air.

“Mister Winchester!” the nurse called out.

Dean let out a relieved sigh. One more minute in the too comfortable waiting room and he would go crazy.

* * *

Doctor Preston was a middle aged woman who somehow managed to preserve her beauty despite of dealing with pregnant woman fourteen hours a day for the last twenty five years. Her graying hair was rolled into a French twist and she wore Versace short dress under her white coat. She asked general questions about what Dean’s physical conditions and what he felt, ignoring Castiel completely, then she asked Dean to get onto the OBGYN table for the USG.

“Excuse me,” the assisting nurse lifted his t-shirt up to expose his stomach. “I need to unzip your pants,” she added. Under different circumstances, Dean would groan with complete ecstasy, but he was too nervous to do that. So the nurse quickly undid his belt and pulled the zipper of his jeans down enough to expose a few inches of skin below his belly button.

“You look good,” the gynecologist commented.

Under different circumstances, Dean would grin and say something witty like, “feel free to feel,” or something.

The nurse squeezed a dollop of gel over his stomach and Dean winced at the coldness. It was much, much colder than any gel he had ever used, it felt like ice. Doctor Preston gave him a soothing smile as the nurse rubbed the gel all over his skin, and Dean wished that Castiel did not get any ideas.

“Now, let's see what's inside your body,” doctor Preston said as she pressed the device that connected to the black and white monitor. Dean had his eyes glued on the monitor, so did Castiel as a cloud like picture began to form on the screen. “This is your stomach, and this is...,” doctor Preston paused to take a breath before continuing, “Your baby.”

“What?” Dean blurted.

“Yes, this is a baby. I can hear the heartbeat. This is the umbilical cord,” doctor Preston pointed at the screen.

“Impossible!” There was no way that bean-shape thing on the monitor was a baby.

“Yes. I'm sorry. I don't know how to explain this but you have a baby inside your stomach and it's healthy and it's growing.”

“Doctor, how could I be pregnant?”

“Well, unprotected sex could be the reason.”

“Nononono... Doctor, I'm a man, for God's sake!” Panic had seeped up from the pit of Dean's stomach to his heart.

“Oh, that,” doctor Preston chuckled. “Yes, this is a near impossible case but you probably suffer from a hormonal disorder. You will need more tests to find out.”

“No, not me,” Dean shook his head frantically.

“I'll prescribe something to help with the morning sickness,” Dr. Preston went on talking as she pulled out her surgical gloves. “You will feel feverish for the first six months, and oh by the way, the baby is two and a half months already. Don't do anything strenuous like lifting weights or running. Choose your diet carefully because you're eating for two now. No alcohol, no smoking, nothing with too much spices. I'll suggest lots of fruits and veggies...”

“Doc!” Dean cut her off, his head was spinning from having to deal with too much information at the same time.

“Yes,” doctor Preston raised an eyebrow.

“Am I really pregnant?”

Doctor Preston looked terribly sad when she answered, ”Yes, honey, you're pregnant.”

* * *

“She's possessed,” Dean muttered as they walked back to the Impala.

“Who?” Castiel asked.

“The doctor,” Dean snapped. “She must be possessed. It was the demon talking. If not then why did she talk about something impossible like a pregnant man?”

“She has proof, Dean,” Castiel waved a print-out of the USG.

“That's the demon's work,” Dean pouted.

“Hey, how is it going?” Sam showed up, carrying two paper bags of groceries.

“I'm pregnant,” Dean replied as he took the car keys from Sam's pocket.

“What?” Sam blurted. “But that's impossible.”

“Tell the doctor that,” Dean pulled open the Impala's door with brute force. The gel still very cold on his skin although the nurse had wiped it clean with Kleenex and that annoyed the hell out of him.

“How?” Sam swallowed.

“Apparently, he knocked me up,” Dean jerked his head towards Castiel.

“No, Dean, technically...,” Castiel began speaking.

“Can angels do that?” Sam frowned, looking genuinely amazed.

“No, Sam, technically...”

Dean swung around. “No, don't try to change the subject. You knocked me up. That’s the truth. You're the only one, the only man, I’ve had sex with. You're the only I let fuck me and I've told you to wear condoms! Now I have to deal with this for the next six and a half months.”

“Oh please, can we not talk the explicit details?” Sam groaned. He looked to be in more pain than Dean. He too finally remembered to put the shopping bags into the backseat. “So what do we do now?” he asked, making an effort to stay calm and sensible.

“I don't know,” Dean shrugged as he began rummaging into the shopping bags. “Sammy! You didn't buy orange juice!”

* * *

He checked into a motel room with Castiel. Sam told him that he needed some time to think things off because he still could not believe that Dean could get pregnant. Sam also thought that Dean and Castiel needed sometime together to sort things out, so he dropped them in front of a motel and left with the Impala. Dean let Castiel carry the bags of groceries into the room.

“I still can't believe that Sammy forgot the orange juice,” Dean said as he shrugged from the heavy leather jacket. The jacket used to be comfortable day in day out, in coldness and in heat, but lately, it made him feel confined.

So did the rest of his clothes, so he took the shirt off too, leaving the old t-shirt beneath on.

“I'll get you orange juice,” Castiel said patiently.

“No, you stay here. You said you'd get the orange juice but if I let you go, you'll never come back. I mean – look at Sammy. I told him I'm pregnant and he went into so much denial that he took off. Men are so incapable of commitment and you know what? You're going to go through this with me because you're the one knocked me up and if you disappear on me, I swear I'll hunt you down with Lucifer's sword!”

Castiel's calmness made Dean even itchier. “Dean, humans are incapable to carry Lucifer’s sword,” he said.

“Oh can you please stop with too much information that I don’t need?!” Dean flailed as he marched towards the mirror. He lifted his t-shirt up so he could see his stomach. “I look terrible,” he grumbled.

“No, you look fine, Dean,” Castiel moved to stand behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist. Castiel’s palms were cool against his feverish skin. “You look gorgeous as ever.”

Dean gave him a look through the mirror. “Are you seducing me?”

Castiel pressed his face on Dean’s shoulders, his lips brushing across the skin gently. “Yes, Dean, yes.” His breath hitched.

Dean turned around in Castiel’s embrace. “I’ll make you pay for knocking me up,” he said.

Castiel looked like he was dreaming. “Yes, Dean, yes,” his voice trailed off, then he leaned his face forward and kissed Dean.

* * *

Sam called around eight the next morning. Dean was still in bed, stark naked with an equally bare angel next to him. He answered the call sleepily.

“Can I come in now?” Sam asked. “I need to take a shower.”

Sam’s rumpled clothes suggested that he spent a good chunk of the night – and morning – in the Impala and he did not look too thrilled about it. Still, he asked, as he entered the room, “You okay?”

Dean nodded. The anti nausea pills from the gynecologist actually worked wonders. But it made him crave pizza.

“Bobby and I discussed this,” Sam continued. “We browsed books and the internet for references because we still think that this is impossible. And we came to a conclusion that this is the trickster god’s work.”

Castiel’s reaction was hard to miss. He winced. In Dean’s book, it was never a good thing when an angel winced at a piece of information.

“We haven’t seen him for months,” Dean said.

Sam shrugged. “Doesn’t mean that he does not hold grudges against us anymore,” he said. “Perhaps he’s just bored and decided to play pranks to us. Remember that he can create things just by snapping his fingers.”

“Yeah, but why me? Why not you?”

“Because, apparently, you’re the one sleeping with a man. It makes more sense.”

Dean took a deep breath. Then he said, “Sammy.”

“Yeah?”

“Can you take a shower now? You smell terrible.”

* * *

Providing that there was no pizza place open that early in the morning, Dean had to settle with frozen pizza from a 24/7 shop. Dean stared at the timer on the microwave as he waited for them to be ready and able to eat. He stood stiffly; sucking his stomach in, hoping that nobody saw the weirdness of his stomach.

“So,” Sam talked as he browsed the shelves, “what we should do is break the spell--”

“I know what we should do, Sam,” Dean snapped.

“Okay, so --,” Sam inhaled. “What are we waiting for?”

The microwave pinged. “Pizza,” Dean grinned, feeling utterly, madly happy.

* * *

“No,” Sam moaned like a broken animal. “No pizza. Not again.” They were driving around trying to decide what to have for dinner. “We had pizza for breakfast, we had pizza for lunch. I’d rather kill myself than eat pizza again for dinner.”

Dean frowned, then he turned to Castiel who was sitting quietly at the back seat.

“Fine with me,” Castiel said.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” Dean smiled.

“Yeah, actually, you did when you…”

“No visuals!” Sam blurted. “Please. God.” He slammed his forehead on the steering wheel. “You two have pizza. I’ll grab something else. I’ll pick you up later.”

* * *

Two hours later, Dean slumped at the back seat of the Impala, feeling bloated. He should really not have eaten two large pizzas, one bowl of salad, double hot fudge ice cream and large soda, but hell, he was eating for two, he deserved to be gluttonous. He patted his tummy, feeling small feet kicking through his stomach as if fighting for personal space with the food.

“If it’s a boy…”

“Dude!” Sam snapped from behind the wheel.

“What?” Dean snapped back. “I’m having a baby, Sammy. I want to start thinking about names because I don’t want to end up with a silly baby name like… like… Apple Pie… or Rainbow Deer…”

Sam sighed heavily then he shot Castiel a look. “You tell him.”

Castiel held Sam’s gaze for a while, then he turned to Dean. “It’s going to be a girl and her name will be Scottish.”

“Cas!” Sam groaned in frustration.

“That sounds like a dog’s name,” Dean said, curling his nose in disgust.

“That’s why I told you. You still have time to change it if you want.”

Dean yelped when Sam swerved the car sharply as he almost hit a hydrant. “Hey, be careful! You’ve got baby on board!”

* * *

Castiel did not stay for the night. Sam kicked him out. He wanted his bed and he snored when he slept.

Dean could not sleep. He lay on the bed with his eyes wide on the ceiling, feeling movement inside his stomach. A little after midnight, he could not stand it any longer. He found a telephone book on the night stand and dialed the number of the first pizza restaurant on the list. Much to his awe, the place was still open.

Twenty minutes later, the pizza showed up with Castiel, and he ignored the pizza, and went straight for Castiel’s lips. They ended up on the bathroom floor with Dean’s legs tightly around Castiel’s waist, miraculously not making any sound as Castiel pounded into him merrily.

* * *

“Okay, let’s do this,” Sam said. They were sitting at the table in the motel room, waiting for Castiel to come back with the pizza for breakfast from the 24/7 shop. “I’ll ask Bobby to help break the spell. You don’t have to do anything. You just stay here and wait for me. It worked without you last time. It should work this time.”

“I don’t know, Sam. But I think it’s not really a bad thing to have a baby.”

Sam seemed to hang on to the last resort of his patience and sanity. “Dean, you’ll have a baby if you want to, but in a proper way. You’ll have a woman carrying the baby for you. Even if you don’t want to have intercourse with her, you can adopt the baby. Or have an in-vitro.” Sam swallowed when he said the last words. Perhaps he was thinking about the cost.

“Sam, why is it so bad that I’m pregnant?” Dean snapped.

“Because you shouldn’t be. And it’s not normal. You’re pregnant but look at you. There’s nothing in your body that suggests you’re pregnant. You can just be imagining things.”

“Sam, I have…”

“Yeah, I know, you have proof. I got it.”

“Sam, do you realize what you’re talking about?”

“What?”

“You’re talking about abortion!”

Sam gaped. “What?”

“You’re talking about killing the baby. My baby. Why are you so keen in killing my baby anyway?”

“No, Dean, that’s not what I mean.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what you mean. You want to kill my baby.” Dean got up, knocking the chair backwards as he did.

“Dude!” Sam almost gritted his teeth. “Look, all I want is to have a rational discussion with you. This is not normal. This is unnatural. Impossible. And think about the C-section.” Sam winced again.

“You’re just scared that when the baby’s born, you’ll be left with the responsibility of raising her with me.”

“No! I’ll be happy to take care of her with you. But the point is…”

Dean did not get to hear the whole sentence. He already fled, slamming the motel room door behind him that the whole room rattled.

* * *

Dean wiped his eyes with his palm because he had run out of Kleenex. He should’ve brought more, but he did not plan on letting the tears fall this long. He had been sitting on that park bench for two hours, staring at the swing in front of him, and he had not been able to stop the tears from rolling, again and again. He had cried before even when he was fully grown up, but this time, it annoyed him.

He still could not believe that Sam was mean to him. If it was about himself, it was perfectly fine. They pranked each other all the time. But it was about a baby. A helpless, weak baby…

Dean wiped his face again.

Where was Castiel when he needed him anyway?

“I’m sorry, I got called up,” Castiel spoke from behind him. Dean did not turn around. Castiel sat next to him.

“Sam wants to kill my baby,” Dean said. “I don’t know why he’s so mean like that. He’s always been a good brother.”

Castiel stared into space, then he started to talk slowly as if he was afraid to hurt Dean’s feelings, ”Sam is right. What happens to you is not normal. It can be the trickster god’s doing. As a matter fact: it’s the trickster god.”

“What?” Dean blurted. “Now you take side with Sam? And how come you’re so sure that it’s the trickster god. Did you ask him personally?”

Castiel turned to look at Dean. “I know, Dean. And no, Dean, I don’t take sides with Sam.”

“Then why did you defend him instead of standing by me? And if you knew already it, why didn’t you stop it from happening from the start?”

“Look, Dean, please calm down and try to be reasonable. You’ve been the most reasonable one all of this time.”

“No. Why should I calm down when someone is suggesting to kill my baby?”

“Dean, technically, the baby will not be killed. It’s never there.”

“The baby? The baby? It’s your baby too.”

Castiel took a deep breath. “Dean, please. Let’s go back to the motel and discuss this calmly. It’s windy here, you might get sick.”

“Oh no,” Dean got up. “I know what’s in your mind. You want me to go back to the motel so you can seduce me again. That’s all you want to do. Men. You’re so predictable. All you want to do is have sex because your dick is bigger than your brain!” And he stomped off.

* * *

Dean did not remember going back to the motel, yet he woke up to find that he was in his bed in the motel and judging from the darkened sky outside the window, it seemed that he had spent the day in dream world again. Sam was not in the room, neither was Castiel. Dean got up, yawned and stretched and winced when the tiny feet inside his stomach kicked him. He grinned as he rubbed his jaws.

He was pouring orange juice when he heard voices from outside the room. Sam’s and Castiel’s. They were talking behind the door, as if they feared that Dean would overhear the conversation. Tough luck, Dean had woken up and he decided to eavesdrop.

“No, I don’t want you to do that. We’ll find another way,” Sam spoke. Hissing actually.

“It’s fine. It won’t affect me at all.” Castiel was as calm as ever.

“No. There’s no way a man can squeeze one gallon of blood out of his body without getting affected.”

“I’m not human, Sam. And this vessel -- I possess him. There are things I can do and one of them is make the vessel bleed without making him pass out or die.”

Silence.

“Where else can you find one gallon of fresh blood?” Castiel talked again, same flat tone.

“Yeah, right. Still...” Sam sounded like he was chewing his lower lip.

Dean pulled the door open and gave the startled Sam and Castiel an unhappy look.

* * *

Dean sat down at the edge of the bed heavily, feeling like his swelling stomach was preventing him from sitting comfortably. “Okay, you two wanted to have a rational discussion about this, now let’s have a discussion,” he said.

Sam and Castiel sat on the other bed in front of him, both looking sheepish like school boys getting caught red handed with their hands inside the experimental jar where they kept preserved frogs and snakes.

“So, supposed it’s the trickster god,” Dean continued, “then we’ll try to break the spell.”

“Yes,” Sam nodded. “Bobby has started to prepare everything. We found an abandoned barn and Bobby is drawing the symbols as we speak. Everything is ready. The last thing we need is one gallon of fresh human blood.”

“And you offered to do that,” Dean shot Castiel a dirty glare.

“Whatever to help you, Dean,” Castiel stared back at him with what could pass as a half-smile at the corner of his lips.

“That’s irrational to me,” said Dean. “I don’t need help. I’m fine.”

Sam took a deep breath and Castiel still stared at him. “It’s okay, Dean,” he said. “I won’t die.”

“Look, if it’s the trickster god, what makes you think that he cannot make me deliver the baby suddenly before we even get to the barn? Don’t you think that he listens to all these conversations and laughs at us?”

Sam batted his eyelashes. “That’s a thought,” he murmured.

“And what if… what if after Castiel shed his blood for the ritual and it does work and the vessel’s body cannot hold on…,” Dean paused to take a deep breath, “I don’t want to raise the baby alone.” Then he began to sob without being able to stop it.

Sam got up with a surrendered expression. “I’ll go get dinner. I’ll pick you up around ten, then we’ll go meet Bobby. The ritual has to be done at midnight.”

* * *

“You’re my Father’s best creation,” Castiel whispered in his ear with heavy breath, “I shall love you forever.” And he rubbed his nose on Dean’s hair, his breath hot against Dean’s skull.

Dean lay beneath him with his face on the pillow, shuddering as waves of pleasures rolled inside him. He felt the baby circle, perhaps excited at the warmth radiating from Dean’s body. He did not realize that he was gripping the bed sheets a little too tightly.

“Do you want to turn around so I can see your face?” Castiel asked; his voice soft like harps.

“No, no,” Dean pursed his lips. He did not think Castiel would be able to fuck him like that, his stomach was swollen the size of Planet Earth. “Cas, please… don’t talk…”

“Right.” Castiel leaned his face down and gently turned Dean’s face from the pillow. “Help me?” he asked, then he hooked his lips on Dean’s.

Dean wanted to protest, but it was difficult when someone sealed your lips like that. Not that he had any objection. Castiel’s kiss was extraordinarily affectionate that night, or he probably had not paid any attention before, getting too busy with tongue battles which they both enjoyed very, very much.

Bracing with one elbow on the bed, Castiel pulled out the fingers he used to prepare Dean and took his position, nudging the head of his erection at the opening of Dean’s ass. Dean trembled a little, then he closed his eyes as Castiel slowly pushed inside him, inch by heavenly inch.

Dean made a sound at the back of his throat and Castiel broke the kiss. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, Cas, no… please…”

Castiel kissed his hair again and grazed his lips over the handprint on Dean’s upper arm, which made Dean tremble because it tickled and it reminded him on why Castiel gripped him tight and raised him from perdition, then he began to move. He kept it gently and slowly and carefully and Dean thought he would come just thinking that Castiel was doing it on his behalf, on the baby’s behalf.

Dean whimpered.

Castiel paused. “Can I?” he asked again, rubbing his palms across Dean’s sweat dampened hair.

“Yes, yes, Cas.”

Castiel resumed moving, a bit faster this time and Dean moaned into the pillow. Castiel snaked one hand around Dean’s waist to reach from his erection.

Dean writhed.

And Castiel continued like that, pounding into Dean’s body, hitting the sweet spot again and again as he stroked Dean’s erection. Dean bucked and moaned, and then an orgasm exploded inside him like morning sunshine breaking darkness into light and he felt very, very warm and very, very loved, and he took Castiel down with him.

He rolled over after Castiel pulled out from him to lie on his back. His stomach was killing him, but at least the baby was calm now, it was probably asleep. Castiel hugged his shoulders and kissed his forehead, and eyelashes and nose and Dean wished that Sam changed his mind and moved the ritual to tomorrow because right now all he wanted was snuggle in bed with Castiel, with the baby between them, and sleep off the post-sex exhaustion.

* * *

They drove in silence, all staring at the dark road in front of them. Sam did not even have the radio or his I-pod turned on and Dean was not in the mood for Metallica. He thought that maybe it was not a good idea to listen to Metallica while the baby was again circling actively inside him. It could get ideas and he remembered cute little Ben and he winced.

They arrived at the barn a few minutes before midnight and Bobby was already there and ready. He had chalked symbols on the floor, some of them Dean had never seen before, and he had put stuff in the center of the biggest symbol, there was a small fire too, and Dean felt his stomach churn again.

“Do you want to sit? You look like you’re going to be slaughtered and sacrificed to King Kong,” Bobby said.

“No, no thanks to your comforting words,” Dean snapped. “I’m going to give up my baby, what do you think I think?”

“Get over it, it’s not real,” Bobby snapped back.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Sam cut in. “Let’s just be cool, okay? Dean, sit here, you don’t need to watch.” He pulled a broken wooden chair for Dean to sit down. “Cas, you stand in the center.”

“If this fails…,” Dean gritted his teeth.

“Dude, please. Calm down,” Sam snapped.

Dean pursed his lips and sat down carefully, afraid the chair would give away under his weight.

“I’ll be fine, Dean, and if this doesn’t work, I’ll stay to raise the baby with you,” Castiel patted Dean’s shoulder. Sam’s eyes darkened suddenly.

“Let’s just get this over with as quickly as possible,” he blurted.

The three of them – Sam, Castiel and Bobby – went to stand in the centre of the symbol. Bobby had a thick book on his hands, it was open. Sam had a small knife in his hand to slice Castiel’s wrist or neck, and Castiel had the same blank look as the ritual begin.

Dean felt so nauseous that he thought he would faint.

Bobby started chanting from the book.

Castiel lifted his hand.

Dean gripped the chair he was sitting on tightly, his knuckles turned white.

Sam took Castiel’s hand and Castiel turned to look at Dean.

Dean took a deep breath, his heartbeat racing wildly.

Bobby kept on chanting.

Sam pressed the knife on Castiel’s wrist and Dean gasped when the eye of the knife slashed Castiel’s wrist and blood gushed out like fountain.

The sight of blood pouring over the floor made Dean really, really sick.

Sam looked sick too but he was paying attention on Castiel, just in case Castiel did not make it.

Castiel still stared at Dean with that impossible-to-read expression.

Bobby still chanted.

The baby began rebelling, kicking into all directions.

Dean wanted to throw up.

Castiel’s blood flowed out of the symbol and color had drained from Castiel’s face. But he stood still.

Dean was convinced now that the ritual did not work out and he had to go out of the barn to puke, otherwise, he would puke all over the symbol.

And then, when he thought he could not stand it any longer, a loud laughter broke in the barn and the trickster god showed up, wearing Armani suit, with a broad grin that seemed to split his face into two.

“Castiel, you fool,” he said to the angel, then he snapped his fingers and the fire exploded.

* * *

The girl was probably five and she had one tooth missing and she seemed pretty proud about it that she grinned all the time. She had blonde hair, long blonde hair, tied into two ponytails, one with blue ribbon, the other with pink. She had exactly the same eye color as Castiel. She was wearing jeans and pink t-shirt and pink sneakers and she ran around blowing bubbles to the kids in the park. Her nanny was running after her in frustration.

She reminded Dean of Jo Annabeth Harvelle.

He shuddered thinking that his baby could grow up like Jo because Jo’s father was a hunter and he was a hunter.

“How do you feel?” asked Castiel.

Dean gave him a side-long glance. Castiel looked fine; his face had gotten its color back. He seemed not to be affected by the bleeding. There was no wound on his wrist anymore.

“Fine, I guess,” he shrugged. He would not admit that he felt like there was an empty hole inside his stomach where the baby used to reside. He felt hollow.

“It’s not real, you know. The trickter god – he was only playing tricks on you.”

Dean leaned back and took a swig of his beer. Yeah, beer. After living on orange juice in the past few weeks, he finally had beer. He did not miss it though.

“Funny, because I think he’s playing tricks on you,” he said. “He didn’t even look at us, he only looked at you and said, ’Castiel, you fool’. Just in case you have forgotten about it already.”

Castiel stayed quiet.

“He seems to have a personal sentiment on you, Cas. What? You two enemies in school?” Dean ended his words with another gulp of beer.

Castiel lowered his eyes. “Long story. Very long story.”

“Yeah, and he still holds the grudges that he didn’t even bother to erase the memory from our brains.”

Castiel took a deep breath. “I can. Do you want me to?”

Dean did not answer, he was back on watching the little girl. She stumbled on a small rock and she fell and the nanny screamed in horror, but she got up as if nothing happened, and she ran away again, this time with her jeans smeared with dirt. Dean had the feeling that the nanny was scared more at having to explain to the parents why the jeans had dirt than why she could not prevent the little girl from falling.

“Come to think about it, I think Scottish is not a bad name,” he murmured.

“Yeah, but you have to fight Raphael for that. He insisted that the baby was named after him,” Castiel said.

Dean gave him a look. “Oh come on. You don’t name a girl Raphael.”

“He gave several options – Raphe, Raphaella, Raphina…”

Dean emptied his beer, then he got up. “I can’t believe this,” he said, shaking his head. “Wanna be my lunch company?”

Castiel looked up. “Yes, Dean,” he replied. Then, after a moment of thought, he added hesitantly, “as long as it’s not pizza.”

* * *

~end