Father's Day (Destiel)

2

Father's Day 2017

"Hey, Cas. Hi Dean. I just wanted to let you know that I'm on the way to the hospital, nothing serious, just a check-up. Okay, I'll update you later. Sees ya later!"

Dean played the answer phone message to his fiancé, who looked on excitedly, practically quivering with anticipation. They were close with their surrogate, who had been introduced to them by Garth at their engagement party just under a year ago, and she loved to update them on her pregnancy.

After the sleepy conversation on father's day the year before, they had decided to use a surrogate rather than adopt, because it felt like they would be carrying on Mary's legacy. The process had been relatively easy, if a little unorthodox. Cas had removed his grace temporarily in order to produce human gametes, and they had mixed their sperm samples so that the baby would be equally theirs.

Now, eight and a half months after the procedure, the reality of having a baby together was dawning on the hunters, and by extension, Sam. The tallest brother was a massive part of the newly expanding family, as they would all be living in the bunker together. He had built a cot himself, from chopping down the tree to varnishing the wood. There were protection sigils and secret messages in Enochian carved into each plank which neither Dean nor Cas knew about. He had even added some of Mary's perfume into the varnish so that the baby would be connected to the grandma that they would never meet.

Dean had decorated the room next to his with elements from all of their lives growing up. Three of the walls were a pale yellow, but the wall next to the cot was a patchwork of motel-style wallpapers, rock posters, Enochian poems, and pages from a second hand manual that Dean had found in Bobby's library for a 1967 Chevy Impala. There was a mobile with protective charms, feathers from the birds that live in their garden, and Dean's first shotgun shell (which Cas didn't technically know about). It was perfect.

Castiel had set himself the task of getting all of the essential things ready; baby-grows, Tupperware, nappies, wet-wipes, tiny little socks... He loved it. His side project, the one he was most proud of, was the beehive in the garden where he grew wildflowers. 'Dean, she can have honey from our own garden! It has antiseptic properties, you know!' He had also painted his true form onto the ceiling above the cot in glow-in-the-dark paint, so that 'angels would be watching over her'.

However, when a panicked phone call came shrilling through the corridors not thirty minutes after the first, none of them were prepared for what the voice on the other end said.

"Happy Father's Day, you guys! Oh, yeah. Forgot to mention...It's happening. It's fucking hapPENING! I'm having a fucking baby! Right now! And it fucking hurts!"

Dean's eyes got really wide, and he sat down heavily on the worn leather sofa. Cas, however, clapped his hands with glee and sprinted to the Impala, then sprinted back again when he realised that Dean wasn't with him.

"Come on, Dean. She is having the baby! What are you waiting for?"

"Son of a bitch." Dean said dully, then a grin spread across his face. "Son of a bitch! We're having a baby!"

In a screech of tires and a matter of minutes, the squealing pair pulled up at the hospital and ran inside. A tired-looking nurse greeted them at the doors to the maternity suite, but couldn't help cracking a smile at the excitement of the two men.

"She'll be tired now, boys. Don't you go harassing her."

"We won't, I promise!" Dean gabbled breathlessly, like a mischievous four year old.

Cas nodded, lost for words. They were led in and shown to a rumpled bed with a tiny looking woman right in the centre of it. Her smile though, was not dimmed in the slightest. It shone like an angel's grace and bundled the three of them together, until they realised that there were in fact four.

A fragile, pink heap of bony limbs and grasping hands stared at Castiel and Dean from her perch in her mother's arms with shining eyes, one blue and one green. A wet, red mouth curved into a tentative smile, and the men felt their hearts melt and combine with hers.

"What should we call her, Dean?"

"What the shit? How could we forget to discuss a name for our daughter?"

"I do not know, Dean. And watch your fucking language, there are children present."

"How about Charlie? She didn't deserve to die, so she could live on like this. Ooh, and her middle name could be Jemima, in honour of Jimmy. But what about Mary? Or Grace? Fuck."

"I refuse to name our child 'Fuck'. But I like Charlie, would it be Charlotte, or just Charlie?"

"I think Charlotte 'cos you can get lots of nicknames from that; Charlie, Lottie... Anything really."

Cas took Dean's hand, turned to their new daughter, and said; "Hello, Charlotte. Welcome to our family.