Fic: The Shattered One (13/?)
See the masterpost for disclaimer, summary, and previous parts.
“Oh my god, he’s adorable!” the waitress gushed over the baby Dean had laid against his shoulder. She put the coffee pot down on the table and leaned in for a better look. “Awww, isn’t he just precious… is he yours?”
“Yeah,” Dean answered a little awkwardly while Castiel, sitting in the booth beside him, merely looked away. He just hoped she didn’t ask what his name was, because as yet he was just ‘the baby’.
“Well, he’s beautiful; you must be so proud. Gosh, going to be a lady-killer, that one,” she cooed.
Castiel looked over sharply at that. He probably thought the woman was prophesizing about the child’s future as a serial killer. So not what Castiel needed to get in his head about the baby that he was only starting to put up with.
“Thanks… gets it from me; I’m a handsome devil,” Dean winked.
Sam rolled his eyes.
When the waitress had their breakfast orders (giving the baby one last adoring glance before she left), Sam was leaning inward like he had something big and important on his mind. Of course, he’d had that look about him since he was five.
“Okay, we need to have a talk about the nephilim.”
The word meant nothing to Dean, but the way Castiel fidgeted suddenly, it sure as hell struck a cord with him.
“What are the nerf-herders?” Dean asked.
“Nephilim,” Castiel corrected. He looked over at Dean, darted a fleeting look down at the baby (because he was the topic of conversation, so a glance was almost unavoidable), then returned his eyes to Dean’s. “Nephilim were the children of angels and humans.”
“Wait, so guys like him have been born before?”
“Not like him,” Castiel said faintly, rigid with discomfort. Then he went into lecture-mode. “Before the flood, the sons of God and the daughters of men laid together and gave rise to the nephilim. They were powerful beings who blurred the lines between angel and man, existing partly in both worlds, in neither entirely.”
“Well, that’s the first I’ve heard about them. How did you know about them?” Dean asked Sam.
Sam shrugged sheepishly. “I’ve been doing some research online, trying to find out what we’re up against.”
Way to choose his words poorly. Dean frowned. “You make it sound like he’s a hunt... he’s just a baby.” He chose to ignore that little voice in his head saying, ‘no, he’s really not just a baby’. He looked over at Cas. “So, these nerf-herders…”
“Nephilim.”
“Are they another class of angel kicking around in Heaven that we haven’t met before?”
Castiel hesitated a second. “The nephilim are extinct. They were all destroyed a long time ago, by the command of God.”
All Dean could do for a second was gape. Something uneasy stirred in his stomach. “Why? Were they… were they evil or something?”
“Not necessarily. Many were lauded in their respective communities for their contributions. They were known as heroes of old and men of renown. Many of the nephilim accomplished great things.” Sounded pretty cool to Dean. “But there were tyrants among them, too. They had human emotions but the powers of angels, and just as some humans are cruel, so too were some nephilim… but a cruel nephilim was far worse than a cruel human being. It was almost an irresistible temptation to abuse their power over mortal men. In the end, that unpredictability and volatility was too great a threat, and God had them slain.”
“All of them?” Dean squawked. “But you said a lot of them were good guys… why punish the whole group for a couple of bad apples?”
“The evil that men do lives after them, the good is oft interred with their bones,” Sam quoted pensively.
Castiel nodded. “That is more or less the reason.”
“So are angels going to be coming after him?” Sam asked, nodding at the baby in Dean’s arm.
Something knee-jerk in Dean made him stiffen up and hold the baby a little tighter. He shot a look over at Castiel. “Would they do that?”
“I don’t know,” Castiel answered simply. He didn’t look especially concerned about it, and that rattled Dean’s nerves. Hell, for all he knew, Castiel saw these possible henchmen of God out for the kid’s head as a way to get out of dealing with the baby.
First order of business: get Castiel to care about the baby somehow, to some degree… because Dean wasn’t an idiot (some people’s opinions to the contrary). He knew he didn’t have a hope in hell of looking after a baby that was mostly angel on his own.
But back to the matter of the baby-slaying angel hit squad gunning for the boy on his shoulder…
“Over my dead body,” Dean snarled. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the baby yet, but it was still his son. Still an innocent. Saving innocent people was still Dean’s first instinct, his upbringing, his defining characteristic that excused all of the rest of his bad behavior.
Castiel looked slowly over at Dean and regarded him closely. He looked down thoughtfully at the baby. Dean could practically see him putting the pieces together. Dean had made it clear that he would fight to the death to protect the baby if he had to. Castiel might be ambivalent toward the infant, but he would do whatever he had to in order to keep Dean safe. Dean watched the tumblers click into place and Castiel accept the fact that in order to keep Dean from harm, he would also have to protect the baby. With a solemn nod, he took that duty upon himself like a foot soldier receiving orders.
And Dean wished Castiel’s protectiveness toward the baby wasn’t just an extension of his determination to protect Dean, but right now he’d take what he could get.
“However, strictly speaking, he is not nephilim,” Castiel noted.
“He’s part human and part angel, isn’t he?” Sam asked, puzzled.
“Yes, but he is more angel than human. Also, the manner of his creation was not the same as how the nephilim came to be. He was not born of procreation between an angel and a human… his hybrid grace was the result of an entirely angelic means of reproduction. In crude terms, he’s an angel that accidentally ended up a little bit human. The nephilim were far more human than he is.”
“Yeah, but will the other angels see the difference?” Dean ask snidely (trying not let his mind linger on the ‘angel-human procreation’ mental image).
“That I don’t know,” Castiel replied.
“Great… so on top of Lucifer, on top of the Apocalypse, on top of the archangels that want to take us for a test drive, now we have baby-killing angels to worry about.”
“Say they do consider him a nephilim,” Sam said, “how high of a priority would he be on their to do list? I mean, would it be a ‘get around to it when we have a minute’ deal, or a ‘drop everything and go medieval on his ass’ situation?”
Though if it was the latter, wouldn’t they already be knee deep in murderous angels? Best to not tempt fate with saying that one out loud.
“I truly don’t know… I’ve grown to doubt my understanding of Heaven’s motivations since I fell.”
Their food arrived and put the conversation on hold while they ate. Castiel picked at his, barely eating, and Dean had a moment of semi-panic thinking it could be the early signs of angel labor again. But Castiel looked fine… aloof, uncomfortable near the baby, but not the ‘painfully on the brink of human’ he’d looked just before he made a kid.
When they were leaving the diner, Dean handed Sam the keys and climbed in the backseat next to Cas. It was normal to them now, Castiel willingly serving as a living crib and car seat while Dean saw to the baby’s needs.
Once they were settled, Castiel held out his hands for the baby. Dean just shifted closer to Castiel, keeping the baby with him. Castiel frowned but dropped his hands. If Dean wanted the baby, Cas’s body language said that he was welcome to him. He only belatedly began watching Dean with the baby.
Dean was rubbing the little guy’s back, strangely fascinated by the feel of tiny lungs moving under tiny ribs, all wrapped in a comforting heat. Sometimes it really blew his mind to think that he and Cas made this little person that hadn’t existed just two days ago.
Sam pulled back onto the highway and continued the drive toward Bobby’s.
“Hey, Cas…” Dean almost whispered.
The angel looked at him. “Yes?”
“We can’t keep calling him ‘the baby’… he needs a name.” Castiel looked uninterested at best, but Dean didn’t let that deter him. “Why don’t you pick it?”
“You wish me to choose a name for him?”
“You did all the work bringing him into the world.”
The angel eyed the child dubiously. “I don’t think that qualifies me for the task… you should pick a name.”
“No, I want you to. There’s no rush… well, sometime before he’s talking would be nice. Just think about it.” Dean looked down at the baby, hoping he wasn’t dooming the kid to some crazy-ass angel name by putting it in Castiel’s hands. But even if he was, Dean could learn to live with whatever Castiel picked. He’d just think of a really kick-ass nickname.
By having Castiel choose the baby’s name, Dean hoped it would get Castiel to stop looking at the newborn like a thing and start seeing him as his son. Or, if that was asking too much, to at least start to look at the baby as something that deserved to be alive.
They’d been on the road about an hour when Castiel quietly held out his hands again for the baby. Dean’s eyebrows rose. It was the first time Castiel had asked for the baby unprompted.
Dean passed the baby over and watched curiously as Castiel held the baby up in front of him, studying him. The baby kicked his legs in the open air a moment, then he opened his eyes and returned Castiel’s intent stare. They were both stalker-intensity stares, cut from the same mould.
“I think…” Castiel frowned and looked toward Dean, “I would like to name him Daniel.”
Dean hadn’t expected Castiel to pick a name so quickly. He hadn’t expected him to pick one so normal. “Daniel, huh?”
“It bears a resemblance to your name as well as mine, and it is a devout name. It means ‘God is my judge’.”
Dean wasn’t sure how he felt about that (God could just keep the fuck out of Dean’s family, thank you very much), but that aside, he couldn’t complain. That Castiel chose a name that associated the baby with himself at all was even better. In fact, the more he tried it out in his head…
“I like Daniel.”
Castiel looked oddly pleased by that.
Dean was just relieved to see Castiel cradle the baby to his chest once the naming ceremony was complete. Daniel made content little noises and snuggled up to Castiel’s body heat.
Daniel Winchester… it had a ring to it.
************************
“Maternity leave’s over, ladies.”
Bobby Singer sure had a way of easing into a conversation with all the grace of a wrecking ball. Dean frowned, one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding his cell phone to his ear. Sam (folded awkwardly in the passenger seat) had been woken from a nap by the phone call and was presently trying to unfurl his limbs. Castiel was in the back, sitting up straight and primly watching the scenery out the window. Daniel was held against his chest, and Cas made it look like a military stance. Ten-hut, present baby.
“Who’s it?” Sam asked around a yawn.
“Bobby,” he answered Sam, then turned his attention to the older hunter. “Listen, Bobby… we’re really not up to par here.” Technically, Sam was probably good to go. But Castiel had yet to resume any of his angel superpowers, and Dean still felt pretty off-kilter (what with a piece of his soul now residing in Daniel). Not to mention the big problem of how the hell to hunt with Daniel.
“Case you boys hadn’t noticed, we’re sort of staring down the end of the world, so nut up.” Bobby paused, and the next time he spoke, he sounded kinder. It said ‘you know I wish you could actually take the time to lick your wounds, and it kills me that you can’t’, but without actually having that mushy conversation. Bobby rocked like that. “We’ve got a huge problem in Des Moines, and since you boys are on your way here from Tennessee…”
“Yeah, we’re passing right through. Actually, I think we might be in Iowa already,” Dean conceded. “So, what kind of problem are we talking about?”
“How do roving gangs of wendigos in populated areas sound?”
“Like you’re pulling my leg.”
“I think it’s fair to say I’ve completely lost any sense of humor I had since ‘Lucifer’ and ‘Apocalypse’ became household words,” Bobby growled.
“How did wendigos even get in Iowa?” Dean asked indignantly. Sam straightened up in the seat beside him. In the back, Castiel finally pulled his eyes away from the passing trees and watched Dean in the rearview mirror.
“Damned if I know… better question, since when do they run in groups of fifty plus?” Bobby countered.
“Holy shit!”
“Like I said, huge problem,” Bobby quipped dryly.
Sam was gesturing at him out of the corner of Dean’s eye, and he glanced over to see Sam making impatient ‘what, what?’ signs. Dean let go of the wheel just long enough to wave Sam off. He had to give Bobby bad news.
“If we still had a fully-charged angel with us, we might be able to deal with this,” Dean said carefully, purposefully not looking at Castiel in the rearview mirror, “but right now… Bobby, Sam and I can’t take on that big a job on our own.”
“You won’t be. Ellen and Jo are already there working the job… but you’re right about one thing - two people won’t cut it. They really need you boys.”
And now it went from just being a matter of civilians being in danger to their fellow hunters - their friends - being in trouble. Crap.
“Crap.” Dean sighed. They were going to have to figure out how to hunt with a baby to look after pretty damn fast, because it was about to happen whether they wanted it to or not. “Okay, where do we meet up with them?”
“The Harvelles have set up shop in an old bar just outside of town, place kind of like the Roadhouse… I’ll get her to text you the address.”
“Great,” Dean said sarcastically.
“Never said it didn’t suck,” was all Bobby had to offer in sympathy.
Dean finally glanced up at the rearview mirror and into the backseat at Castiel. The angel looked scarily intent about something. Dean’s eyes dropped down to Daniel, perfectly cupped in Castiel’s hands.
“Did you tell Ellen or Jo about…”
Turned out that Bobby hadn’t lost his sense of humor after all… it had just taken a sadistic turn. He let out a gruff chuckle. “I’m leaving that gem for you boys to share.” With that, Bobby hung up.
“What was that about?” Sam asked immediately.
“Looks like wendigos have unionized and relocated to Des Moines… Bobby says a gang of over fifty of them are terrorizing the city.” Sam’s eyes went agog at the number. “Ellen and Jo are there, but they need our help.”
Sam was already nodding his agreement when the moment he remembered Daniel registered on his face. Sam looked over uncertainly at the baby in Castiel’s hands. “What… what are we going to do about Daniel?”
“We’ll work it out when we get there,” Dean said, trying to sound confident that a solution would make itself obvious once they reached the bar.
Because that sounded a lot better than ‘not a fucking clue’.
Next
“Oh my god, he’s adorable!” the waitress gushed over the baby Dean had laid against his shoulder. She put the coffee pot down on the table and leaned in for a better look. “Awww, isn’t he just precious… is he yours?”
“Yeah,” Dean answered a little awkwardly while Castiel, sitting in the booth beside him, merely looked away. He just hoped she didn’t ask what his name was, because as yet he was just ‘the baby’.
“Well, he’s beautiful; you must be so proud. Gosh, going to be a lady-killer, that one,” she cooed.
Castiel looked over sharply at that. He probably thought the woman was prophesizing about the child’s future as a serial killer. So not what Castiel needed to get in his head about the baby that he was only starting to put up with.
“Thanks… gets it from me; I’m a handsome devil,” Dean winked.
Sam rolled his eyes.
When the waitress had their breakfast orders (giving the baby one last adoring glance before she left), Sam was leaning inward like he had something big and important on his mind. Of course, he’d had that look about him since he was five.
“Okay, we need to have a talk about the nephilim.”
The word meant nothing to Dean, but the way Castiel fidgeted suddenly, it sure as hell struck a cord with him.
“What are the nerf-herders?” Dean asked.
“Nephilim,” Castiel corrected. He looked over at Dean, darted a fleeting look down at the baby (because he was the topic of conversation, so a glance was almost unavoidable), then returned his eyes to Dean’s. “Nephilim were the children of angels and humans.”
“Wait, so guys like him have been born before?”
“Not like him,” Castiel said faintly, rigid with discomfort. Then he went into lecture-mode. “Before the flood, the sons of God and the daughters of men laid together and gave rise to the nephilim. They were powerful beings who blurred the lines between angel and man, existing partly in both worlds, in neither entirely.”
“Well, that’s the first I’ve heard about them. How did you know about them?” Dean asked Sam.
Sam shrugged sheepishly. “I’ve been doing some research online, trying to find out what we’re up against.”
Way to choose his words poorly. Dean frowned. “You make it sound like he’s a hunt... he’s just a baby.” He chose to ignore that little voice in his head saying, ‘no, he’s really not just a baby’. He looked over at Cas. “So, these nerf-herders…”
“Nephilim.”
“Are they another class of angel kicking around in Heaven that we haven’t met before?”
Castiel hesitated a second. “The nephilim are extinct. They were all destroyed a long time ago, by the command of God.”
All Dean could do for a second was gape. Something uneasy stirred in his stomach. “Why? Were they… were they evil or something?”
“Not necessarily. Many were lauded in their respective communities for their contributions. They were known as heroes of old and men of renown. Many of the nephilim accomplished great things.” Sounded pretty cool to Dean. “But there were tyrants among them, too. They had human emotions but the powers of angels, and just as some humans are cruel, so too were some nephilim… but a cruel nephilim was far worse than a cruel human being. It was almost an irresistible temptation to abuse their power over mortal men. In the end, that unpredictability and volatility was too great a threat, and God had them slain.”
“All of them?” Dean squawked. “But you said a lot of them were good guys… why punish the whole group for a couple of bad apples?”
“The evil that men do lives after them, the good is oft interred with their bones,” Sam quoted pensively.
Castiel nodded. “That is more or less the reason.”
“So are angels going to be coming after him?” Sam asked, nodding at the baby in Dean’s arm.
Something knee-jerk in Dean made him stiffen up and hold the baby a little tighter. He shot a look over at Castiel. “Would they do that?”
“I don’t know,” Castiel answered simply. He didn’t look especially concerned about it, and that rattled Dean’s nerves. Hell, for all he knew, Castiel saw these possible henchmen of God out for the kid’s head as a way to get out of dealing with the baby.
First order of business: get Castiel to care about the baby somehow, to some degree… because Dean wasn’t an idiot (some people’s opinions to the contrary). He knew he didn’t have a hope in hell of looking after a baby that was mostly angel on his own.
But back to the matter of the baby-slaying angel hit squad gunning for the boy on his shoulder…
“Over my dead body,” Dean snarled. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the baby yet, but it was still his son. Still an innocent. Saving innocent people was still Dean’s first instinct, his upbringing, his defining characteristic that excused all of the rest of his bad behavior.
Castiel looked slowly over at Dean and regarded him closely. He looked down thoughtfully at the baby. Dean could practically see him putting the pieces together. Dean had made it clear that he would fight to the death to protect the baby if he had to. Castiel might be ambivalent toward the infant, but he would do whatever he had to in order to keep Dean safe. Dean watched the tumblers click into place and Castiel accept the fact that in order to keep Dean from harm, he would also have to protect the baby. With a solemn nod, he took that duty upon himself like a foot soldier receiving orders.
And Dean wished Castiel’s protectiveness toward the baby wasn’t just an extension of his determination to protect Dean, but right now he’d take what he could get.
“However, strictly speaking, he is not nephilim,” Castiel noted.
“He’s part human and part angel, isn’t he?” Sam asked, puzzled.
“Yes, but he is more angel than human. Also, the manner of his creation was not the same as how the nephilim came to be. He was not born of procreation between an angel and a human… his hybrid grace was the result of an entirely angelic means of reproduction. In crude terms, he’s an angel that accidentally ended up a little bit human. The nephilim were far more human than he is.”
“Yeah, but will the other angels see the difference?” Dean ask snidely (trying not let his mind linger on the ‘angel-human procreation’ mental image).
“That I don’t know,” Castiel replied.
“Great… so on top of Lucifer, on top of the Apocalypse, on top of the archangels that want to take us for a test drive, now we have baby-killing angels to worry about.”
“Say they do consider him a nephilim,” Sam said, “how high of a priority would he be on their to do list? I mean, would it be a ‘get around to it when we have a minute’ deal, or a ‘drop everything and go medieval on his ass’ situation?”
Though if it was the latter, wouldn’t they already be knee deep in murderous angels? Best to not tempt fate with saying that one out loud.
“I truly don’t know… I’ve grown to doubt my understanding of Heaven’s motivations since I fell.”
Their food arrived and put the conversation on hold while they ate. Castiel picked at his, barely eating, and Dean had a moment of semi-panic thinking it could be the early signs of angel labor again. But Castiel looked fine… aloof, uncomfortable near the baby, but not the ‘painfully on the brink of human’ he’d looked just before he made a kid.
When they were leaving the diner, Dean handed Sam the keys and climbed in the backseat next to Cas. It was normal to them now, Castiel willingly serving as a living crib and car seat while Dean saw to the baby’s needs.
Once they were settled, Castiel held out his hands for the baby. Dean just shifted closer to Castiel, keeping the baby with him. Castiel frowned but dropped his hands. If Dean wanted the baby, Cas’s body language said that he was welcome to him. He only belatedly began watching Dean with the baby.
Dean was rubbing the little guy’s back, strangely fascinated by the feel of tiny lungs moving under tiny ribs, all wrapped in a comforting heat. Sometimes it really blew his mind to think that he and Cas made this little person that hadn’t existed just two days ago.
Sam pulled back onto the highway and continued the drive toward Bobby’s.
“Hey, Cas…” Dean almost whispered.
The angel looked at him. “Yes?”
“We can’t keep calling him ‘the baby’… he needs a name.” Castiel looked uninterested at best, but Dean didn’t let that deter him. “Why don’t you pick it?”
“You wish me to choose a name for him?”
“You did all the work bringing him into the world.”
The angel eyed the child dubiously. “I don’t think that qualifies me for the task… you should pick a name.”
“No, I want you to. There’s no rush… well, sometime before he’s talking would be nice. Just think about it.” Dean looked down at the baby, hoping he wasn’t dooming the kid to some crazy-ass angel name by putting it in Castiel’s hands. But even if he was, Dean could learn to live with whatever Castiel picked. He’d just think of a really kick-ass nickname.
By having Castiel choose the baby’s name, Dean hoped it would get Castiel to stop looking at the newborn like a thing and start seeing him as his son. Or, if that was asking too much, to at least start to look at the baby as something that deserved to be alive.
They’d been on the road about an hour when Castiel quietly held out his hands again for the baby. Dean’s eyebrows rose. It was the first time Castiel had asked for the baby unprompted.
Dean passed the baby over and watched curiously as Castiel held the baby up in front of him, studying him. The baby kicked his legs in the open air a moment, then he opened his eyes and returned Castiel’s intent stare. They were both stalker-intensity stares, cut from the same mould.
“I think…” Castiel frowned and looked toward Dean, “I would like to name him Daniel.”
Dean hadn’t expected Castiel to pick a name so quickly. He hadn’t expected him to pick one so normal. “Daniel, huh?”
“It bears a resemblance to your name as well as mine, and it is a devout name. It means ‘God is my judge’.”
Dean wasn’t sure how he felt about that (God could just keep the fuck out of Dean’s family, thank you very much), but that aside, he couldn’t complain. That Castiel chose a name that associated the baby with himself at all was even better. In fact, the more he tried it out in his head…
“I like Daniel.”
Castiel looked oddly pleased by that.
Dean was just relieved to see Castiel cradle the baby to his chest once the naming ceremony was complete. Daniel made content little noises and snuggled up to Castiel’s body heat.
Daniel Winchester… it had a ring to it.
************************
“Maternity leave’s over, ladies.”
Bobby Singer sure had a way of easing into a conversation with all the grace of a wrecking ball. Dean frowned, one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding his cell phone to his ear. Sam (folded awkwardly in the passenger seat) had been woken from a nap by the phone call and was presently trying to unfurl his limbs. Castiel was in the back, sitting up straight and primly watching the scenery out the window. Daniel was held against his chest, and Cas made it look like a military stance. Ten-hut, present baby.
“Who’s it?” Sam asked around a yawn.
“Bobby,” he answered Sam, then turned his attention to the older hunter. “Listen, Bobby… we’re really not up to par here.” Technically, Sam was probably good to go. But Castiel had yet to resume any of his angel superpowers, and Dean still felt pretty off-kilter (what with a piece of his soul now residing in Daniel). Not to mention the big problem of how the hell to hunt with Daniel.
“Case you boys hadn’t noticed, we’re sort of staring down the end of the world, so nut up.” Bobby paused, and the next time he spoke, he sounded kinder. It said ‘you know I wish you could actually take the time to lick your wounds, and it kills me that you can’t’, but without actually having that mushy conversation. Bobby rocked like that. “We’ve got a huge problem in Des Moines, and since you boys are on your way here from Tennessee…”
“Yeah, we’re passing right through. Actually, I think we might be in Iowa already,” Dean conceded. “So, what kind of problem are we talking about?”
“How do roving gangs of wendigos in populated areas sound?”
“Like you’re pulling my leg.”
“I think it’s fair to say I’ve completely lost any sense of humor I had since ‘Lucifer’ and ‘Apocalypse’ became household words,” Bobby growled.
“How did wendigos even get in Iowa?” Dean asked indignantly. Sam straightened up in the seat beside him. In the back, Castiel finally pulled his eyes away from the passing trees and watched Dean in the rearview mirror.
“Damned if I know… better question, since when do they run in groups of fifty plus?” Bobby countered.
“Holy shit!”
“Like I said, huge problem,” Bobby quipped dryly.
Sam was gesturing at him out of the corner of Dean’s eye, and he glanced over to see Sam making impatient ‘what, what?’ signs. Dean let go of the wheel just long enough to wave Sam off. He had to give Bobby bad news.
“If we still had a fully-charged angel with us, we might be able to deal with this,” Dean said carefully, purposefully not looking at Castiel in the rearview mirror, “but right now… Bobby, Sam and I can’t take on that big a job on our own.”
“You won’t be. Ellen and Jo are already there working the job… but you’re right about one thing - two people won’t cut it. They really need you boys.”
And now it went from just being a matter of civilians being in danger to their fellow hunters - their friends - being in trouble. Crap.
“Crap.” Dean sighed. They were going to have to figure out how to hunt with a baby to look after pretty damn fast, because it was about to happen whether they wanted it to or not. “Okay, where do we meet up with them?”
“The Harvelles have set up shop in an old bar just outside of town, place kind of like the Roadhouse… I’ll get her to text you the address.”
“Great,” Dean said sarcastically.
“Never said it didn’t suck,” was all Bobby had to offer in sympathy.
Dean finally glanced up at the rearview mirror and into the backseat at Castiel. The angel looked scarily intent about something. Dean’s eyes dropped down to Daniel, perfectly cupped in Castiel’s hands.
“Did you tell Ellen or Jo about…”
Turned out that Bobby hadn’t lost his sense of humor after all… it had just taken a sadistic turn. He let out a gruff chuckle. “I’m leaving that gem for you boys to share.” With that, Bobby hung up.
“What was that about?” Sam asked immediately.
“Looks like wendigos have unionized and relocated to Des Moines… Bobby says a gang of over fifty of them are terrorizing the city.” Sam’s eyes went agog at the number. “Ellen and Jo are there, but they need our help.”
Sam was already nodding his agreement when the moment he remembered Daniel registered on his face. Sam looked over uncertainly at the baby in Castiel’s hands. “What… what are we going to do about Daniel?”
“We’ll work it out when we get there,” Dean said, trying to sound confident that a solution would make itself obvious once they reached the bar.
Because that sounded a lot better than ‘not a fucking clue’.
Next