Chapter Text
One step out into the rain and Castiel was already soaked. He grumbled to himself as he tried in vain to shield his face with an old newspaper. It hadn’t looked like rain when he had left this morning for work, so of course he had decided to disregard the weather report and leave his umbrella at home. Cursing his own stupidity he fumbled at his keys, ready to lock up and go home. The Gas’n Sip was a small, two pump station, unable to afford a 24/7 cashier, so most nights saw Castiel locking up at ten, not a customer in sight.
Tonight however, something was different.
It was hard to hear clearly over the sound of rain, so Castiel almost jumped out of his skin when a loud groan echoed out from around the corner of the building.
“What in the world?” He clutched his chest, the thumping of his heart intensifying as he nervously approached the alley. Another groan came out of the dark, followed by a sudden dragging sound that made Castiel second guess walking alone into the secluded space. But the moan had sounded human, and more importantly, whatever was making the noise sounded in pain. If someone was hurt he couldn’t just leave them there.
Steeling himself, he left the red glow of the Closed sign. Cautiously, he walked into the alley, shielding his sight from the rain with the now dripping paper. Toward the back, just behind the dumpster, someone stumbled into the wall.
“Hello?” Castiel called, concerned. “Excuse me? Are you alright?”
A startled gasp was the only answer to his question, and Castiel ran forward as the figure sagged.
“Let me help you - oh,” Castiel sucked in a surprised breath, blinking water out of his eyes. His hands tightened where he braced the stranger. His fingers brushed along feathers. There was strong muscle instead of the fabric that he had expected, and it was with no little shock that he found himself staring into eyes that seemed to glow with an inner fire.
“Angel,” he whispered, awe filling him as he helped steady the winged being. Angels almost never walked among humans as the other supernaturals were prone to do. Castiel had never heard of an Angel venturing out alone.
The Angel, a male from what little Castiel could make out in the dark of his figure, tensed under his touch.
“Oh,” Castiel withdrew his hands, raising them up in a gesture of no threat. “Excuse me. Are you ok? I heard you yell.”
The angel shuddered, wings dripping with water as he pulled them out of Castiel’s reach. Mesmerized, Castiel’s gaze followed the drops down the feathers until he caught on the exposed curve of the Angel’s stomach.
“Fuck, you’re pregnant!” he blurted out, fumbling at his jacket. “You must be freezing. Please,” he held out the slightly damp windbreaker. “Do you have somewhere to go? Where’s your mate? Your flock?”
Angels never let omegas wander without protection. Ever. As the trembling figure was clearly pregnant under the almost translucent white robes he wore, this Angel was certainly an omega. Only the worst could have driven this angel into the rain and the dark tonight.
Shaking, the Angel took the windbreaker from Castiel, awkwardly wrapping it around the soaked robe from the front and over his shoulders, the cold strong enough to override any stranger-danger fears he might have had about Castiel.
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on but you seem to be in some sort of trouble,” the Angel looked down, clutching at jacket, but made no comment. “My name is Castiel and my apartment is close, just a short walk," Castiel gestured vaguely on the direction of home. It really wasn’t far, and he had come close enough to homelessness in his teen years to not wish the same fate on anyone else. "You could stay the night, or longer. Until you get help."
The angel regarded him, his wary gaze almost enough to make Cas wring his hands in anxiety. Angel pregnancy was, from what Castiel could remember from high school sex Ed, a very delicate process. A pregnant angel was basically a giant incubator, temperature being a much more important factor in egg growth than in human infant growth. The egg growing inside of this angel was very likely being harmed by the cold and exposure. The angel himself was definitely being harmed.
"My home isn't much, but it's warm and dry," Cas offered, holding a hand out to the angel. "Will you let me help you?"
For a long moment the Angel said nothing. He stared at Castiel with those glowing, green eyes, and Castiel wondered if it was true that Angels could see into the human soul.
“Ok.”
Castiel startled, snapping out of his thoughts as the Angel took a hesitant step closer to him, wings flicking again to dispel the water that had gathered during the exchange. “Really?” Castiel said, wilting a little in embarrassment when the Angel simply raised an eyebrow at him. “I mean, of course. My apartment is this way, uhh...”
The Angel squinted at him, then shook his head as if unsurprised by Castiel’s awkward fumbling. “Dean. Name’s Dean.”
Castiel felt a little shiver go through him that had nothing to do with the continuous rain pouring down on both of them. “Dean. Nice to meet you,” he coughed, purposefully averting his eyes from the Angel as Dean stepped up beside him. “This way. We need to get you out of this rain.”
Dean didn’t need telling twice and they quickly made their way out from behind the Gas’n Sip, Castiel fretting when in the better light he saw that Dean was only wearing thin sandals and his soaked robe in addition to the windbreaker, but Dean shrugged off his worry, scowling until the human sighed and lead the way home.
The walk back to the apartment was one of the most stressful in Castiel’s memory, and that included the time he was mugged for loose change. The angel, Dean, kept shivering in a way that greatly concerned him. How long had he been out in the rain before Castiel had found him? Dean ignored all questions about his home and flock, leaving Castiel’s only real option being to get the omega home as fast as possible.
It was with great relief that they reached his apartment building, sprinting to duck under the roof awning, which provided a small patch of protection from the rain. Castiel’s room was on the top floor, accessible by outdoor stairwell with a single, moth covered light. The pair damply climbed the few floors up, dripping all over the cement hall as Castiel fumbled with his keys to let them inside.
Looking around at the small space, he had a sudden and near overwhelming sense of inadequacy. His living room was, well, completely adequate for a single man with little to no disposable income and no concept of interior design. His furniture consisted of an old, gray loveseat, a coffee table he had found on the curb the first week of living in the apartment, and a boxy old tv that didn’t even have cable.
Next to him Dean shivered, bringing him back to the issue at hand.
“Let me get you some towels,” he said, herding the angel further into the kitchen, careful of the puddles they were both making. “I would offer you a hot shower, but I don’t think your wings will fit in the stall.” Or the bathroom for that matter.
He pulled both of the towels he owned from the bathroom along with a clean pair of pjs from his closet, taking a moment to cut the shirt opening the back for the angel’s wings. It’s not like he didn’t have enough old t-shirts anyway. He handed them to the angel with minimal blushing over the way Dean’s robe was clinging to his body with rain. As Dean began drying himself off Castiel realized he had another issue.
The apartment didn’t have a guest room. Hell, the couch wasn’t even big enough to sleep on.
Inspiration struck, and like lightning Castiel ran around the apartment. Dean watched in bemusement, hand protectively on his belly as Cas pulled all the cushions off the couch, all the pillows too, then ran back into the bedroom to grab every sweater he had and all but one blanket off his own bed. Dumping them onto the cushions in the corner, he ran back to the bedroom, digging through the closet for the extra sheets he knew were in there somewhere from that one Walmart trip where he thought it would be a nice, grown up thing to do if he changed his sheets regularly. Finding them shoved under a yoga mat he didn’t remember owning, Castiel ran back to the living room, holding the sheets up triumphantly. Under the curious gaze of the angel, Castiel began stacking the pillows strategically, using the side of the couch to block in the nest-like shape he was building with what he had gathered.
By the time he was done a decent bowl shape had been achieved and even Castiel had to admit it looked more comfortable than his own lumpy mattress.
Dean moved over to check out the nest, walk more of a waddle even with his wings to balance out the very large baby bump. He poked at the pile with his now bare foot, sandles having been discarded with the rest of his clothes in the kitchen while Castiel had been busy with his project.
Castiel held his breath as he watched the angel fuss with the placement of the various pillows. He noticed Dean would occasionally stop to breath through his nose, hand on his stomach, and Castiel was vividly reminded of the pained moans that had lead him to the angel in the first place. Castiel didn’t know the first thing about medicine and pregnancy, he hadn’t even spent time around human kids before. He was pretty sure however, that pregnant people shouldn’t take pills of any sort, even if in pain.
Despite his obvious discomfort Dean didn’t seem too concerned. In fact, though it might be a small vanity, Cas believed Dean looked relaxed compared to his whole demeanor back at the Gas’n Sip.
As Castiel watched, lost in his own thoughts, Dean finished arranging the bedding to his satisfaction. When the angel lowered himself into the pile with a relieved sigh Castiel was reminded of his duties as a host. “Are you hungry?” he asked, hovering awkwardly over the angel. “I think I have some leftover chinese food, or I could heat up a can of soup if you would prefer. I usually eat most meals at work so I don’t have much on hand right now.”
Dean only grunted in reply, wiggling deeper into the covers of the makeshift nest. His eyes were closed and his whole body curved around that bump like a hug, and Castiel found himself slowly walking out of the room, hitting the lights on his way out.
Laying in his bed that night, under the one blanket he had left himself, Castiel thought he should feel more….something. More upset about his privacy being invaded, annoyed at the inconvenience. Something other than worried about whether Dean was eating enough, or whether Dean’s flock was looking for him. Castiel had lived his 32 years on this planet making minimal human contact. Friendships stayed at work, family stayed away until the obligatory holidays. His life was quiet, and that’s the way he liked it.
There was something nice though, about knowing that here in his apartment there was someone else resting safely in comfort because of him. He hoped Dean felt well enough in the morning to open up to him so that they could make sure he and his egg stayed safe.
He must have fallen asleep, because somewhere between one thought and the next his alarm was going off. He slapped at the annoyance, managing to hit the off button and knock the clock off the nightstand at the same time. With a groan that he muffled in his pillow he dug around for his cellphone. A horribly bright screen revealed that it was indeed Saturday. He had forgotten to turn off the alarm last night.
Last night.
Castiel sat bolt upright, covers sliding off as he stumbled out of bed. Last night he brought a homeless, pregnant angel back to his apartment. Shaking his head, he realized he could hear noise coming from the main room, and he could smell something cooking.
With all the grace of a newly reanimated corpse, Castiel staggered out into the kitchen. Dean was by the stove, wings dry and smooth against his back as he moved around something on a pan. The robe, now dry, had made a reappearance, but the angel was still wearing the old pair of sweats Castiel had given him the night before.
At the sound of Castiel shuffling in Dean turned, flashing him a smile that almost stopped his heart with its brilliance. “Good morning, Cas. I’m making omelets and hashbrowns. I hope you don’t mind. It was all you had lying around and I figured I should do something to pay you back for all the trouble…” Dean rambled into a pause, looking at Castiel, or “Cas” now, Castiel thought, blushing.
“Thank you, Dean. I’m sure anything you make will be better than the mess I usually cook.”
The smile was back, and Cas found himself sitting as Dean scooped egg and potato onto a plate for him. Watching Dean move around him Cas felt yet another frisson of shock go through him, waking him up faster than any coffee on earth.
The robe Dean had on, slightly dirty and loose, was hanging flat over the angel’s stomach. Jerking so hard he almost fell out of his chair, Cas turned to the living room. Sure enough, just visible around the edge of the couch was a lump, about a foot long, wrapped in blankets.
“Dean,” Cas wanted to look at the angel, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from what must be an angel egg snuggled up in his living room.
“Hmm?” Dean was putting the dirty pan in the sink, but when he saw Cas staring at the nest he blushed. “Oh. Yeah, so that’s a thing that happened.”
Dean moved into the tiny living room, waving Cas over to the nest, breakfast forgotten for the moment. Very carefully, Dean pulled back the blanket surrounding the egg. Cas had to hold back a gasp as the angel picked up the small object, his child, and cradled it in his arms. The egg was a shockingly pearlescent shade of pink, almost like blown glass or a seashell. It was so fragile that Cas could hardly believe there was a tiny angel inside of it.
“They’re beautiful, Dean.”
Dean puffed up in pride, his golden feathers rustling as he held out the egg for Castiel to view. “Thank you, alpha.”
Cas choked, jerking away from the omega, who eyed him curiously.
“I’m not- Humans aren’t like that,” the implication of an omega angel referring to him as Alpha , well. Dean probably didn’t understand human genders. All he saw was Cas’ apparent protective streak.
Dean was shaking his head though. “Humans don’t have a lot of things. But even without wings and scent I can tell,” One golden wing came out to trail almost possessively down Cas’ arm. “You’re all Alpha. My alpha.”
Confused, nervous, and a little aroused, Cas sputtered in protest.
“But what about the egg, err, child’s father? The alpha who got you, you know,” Cas gestured nervously at Dean and the nest.
Dean’s face darkened. “No,” he growled. “There is no other alpha. Just you, and people who will wish they were you.”
Cas sat down heavily on the couch, ignoring the lack of cushions. He stared up at the ceiling as if it had some secret message that would help explain this situation he had gotten himself into. Something warm and heavy was pushed onto his lap and he started, arms automatically coming up to hold the object. He looked down at the warm, slow pulsing feeling of shell under his hands. Dean was smirking down at him, wings puffed out in pride at the egg he had created.
“You’ll take good care of us,” the angel said, voice so certain that Cas had no doubt that the statement was fact in Dean’s mind. Dean’s wings reached out, making a tent-like dome over Castiel and the egg. “I know you’re worried. A hatchling is a big responsibility,” he brushed his hand tenderly over the top of the egg cradled in Cas’ lap. “But look at what you’ve already done for us. We’re safe and warm. I have food in my belly and a nest to keep our egg safe. You didn’t have to offer us a home, but you did,” he looked slyly at Cas. “I can look after you too.”
Cas was shaking his head, not even sure anymore what he was denying but quite sure that everything Dean was saying couldn’t be real.
“Don’t worry, alpha. I don’t mind that you don’t have wings. I have wings large enough to cover us both,” Dean slid into the seat next to Cas. “I like that you’re small, but tough.”
Dean was completely covering Cas now, both of them wrapped in a cocoon of feathers and warmth that let in just enough light to see. “You could have left me in that alley. Hell, there was no reason you had to check on anything you heard. It was late, and dark. You were alone. Anyone else would have walked away. But you didn’t leave. You found me. Us.”
Cas swallowed. “I would never let anything bad happen you you, if I could prevent it.”
It was the truth. He couldn’t let even an unknown person possibly suffer alone in the dark of the outside world. Now that he could put a face and a name, an egg for heaven’s sake, to the pained cry he had heard last night the last thing he could imagine doing was to turn Dean and his hatchling out. Even if Dean was a little confused about what was happening here.
Cas rubbed his hands slowly down the surface of the egg. The warmth under his palms ebbed and flowed like a heartbeat, proof of a strong new life growing underneath.
Dean hummed, slowly dipping his head in to press his lips to the curve of Cas’ neck. “That’s why I want you, alpha. You care about us.”