The Devil You Know - SPN

Chapter Twenty-Four

The One With The Bad News

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I awoke with a very tired and hungover Dean beside me, his arm draped across my bare waist and his face nuzzled into my hair. His chest rose and fell behind me, his heartbeat somehow calming my nerves and almost lulling me back to sleep until he woke up, his heartbeat increasing exponentially as his tired eyes took in the situation.

Feigning sleep I closed my eyes and remained immobile as he laid behind me, his arm tightening around my waist and his lips pressing to the top of my head before he pulled away from me. I heard the rustling of clothes and then the door creaking open and clicking shut.

I pushed myself upright as soon as the door was closed.

Shit.

—

The car was tense, Sam entirely oblivious to it words tumbling out of his mouth as his eyes scanned a book of some kind. I'd given up listening hours ago—instead, I'd ended up staring at the back of Dean's head, the way his hands would tighten on the wheel when someone cut him off or drove poorly in general.

This was the first hunt we'd been on in a very long time. After that night I went to stay at Bobby's and went on a few hunts by myself—avoiding the oldest Winchester at all costs. Although, somehow Sam had managed to rope me into agreeing to this hunt, and I would be lying if I said I didn't want to see Dean.

The air buzzed with electricity beside me; the fluttering of wings suddenly loud in the car.

And then Castiel was beside me.

"Hello," he began before his eyes widened, flitting about the car before coming to rest on my stomach.

"Carmen," his voice was soft—cautious as if he were afraid. I've never seen him afraid before.

"Cass? What is it?" I asked, bending my head to meet his eyes.

He swallowed—his Adam's apple bobbing, "You are with child."

Everything froze, the tires screeching against the road was the only sound as I sat—stock still. I could've sworn the world stopped spinning, I would've thought my heart had stopped if it's thumping wasn't so loud in my ears.

"Pregnant?" Dean barked from the front seat, spinning around in his seat to face Castiel and I. His voice snapped my out of my reverie, my tongue darting out of my lips to wet my lips as I turned to Castiel expectantly.

"Yes."

Wonderful, I could hear Dean's sarcastic remark in my head—only it never came. Perhaps he was too shocked, too scared to even attempt to lighten the situation.

I shook my head; my hand flying to the handle as I pulled myself out of the car mumbling about needing air as my bare feet hit the asphalt road. The world was spinning, my heart thumping in my ears.

I'm pregnant.

I heard the car door opening and then slamming closed shortly after.

"What the hell?!"

Dean.

"Oh, how rude of me," I began, my fear shifting into a hot anger that bubbled in my veins, "I'm so so sorry that I'm pregnant. What an inconvenience!" I began quiet, my tone dripping with sarcasm but as my anger clawed at my calm facade my voice rose until I was screaming.

"Whose is it?" He replied, somehow his voice was level although it stunk of rage.

"God's! I'm the next virgin Mary!" I screamed back at him, throwing my hand's up in the air in frustration.

"Mine?" He replied, his jaw tight.

"Yes, for fuck's sake. How many people do you think I've slept with?" I replied my voice quieter now but the anger just as prevalent as before.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?" He nearly spat, taking a step toward me, his voice and hands shaking.

"Did it fucking look like I knew?" I replied, taking a step toward him and poking his chest with my finger. The anger was leaving now—just as quickly as it came—tears welling in my eyes.

His jaw tightened again, hesitant eyes flitting around my face before his arms wrapped around my torso, pulling me against him. I wanted to push him away—to yell some more and throw my things around—but I didn't. I wrapped my arms around him and sobbed into the thin material of his shirt.

—

Castiel still hadn't left the car. Dean and I must've stood outside for half an hour at least, yet Castiel stayed and his eyes followed me expectantly as I clambered into the car. My face was still burning and blotchy, my salty tears clumping my eyelashes.

"Why'd you come here, Cass?" I asked, my voice was level now although a million emotions were bubbling just under my surface.

"To give you this—" he began, holding out a small leather pouch with a handle protruding from the opening, "—it's a blade made from the claws of your kind."

"Why?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow, "Cass, we have knives."

"Because a knife won't destroy a soul." He replied as if it were obvious.

"And this will?" I asked, holding up the blade.

"Yes. So will your claws—it is for Sam and Dean," He replied, monotonously.

"My claws destroy souls?" I had learned far too much today.

Castiel didn't reply, glancing at Dean briefly before the sound of fluttering wings rang through the air.

And then he was gone.

I sat in shock for a moment, turning the blade over in my hands, feeling the strange material against my skin. Its blade was creamy white yet felt chalky—I couldn't help but wonder where they got the claws from.

Once I was somewhat recovered I leaned forward and placed the blade in Sam's lap.He quirked an eyebrow and as I moved back to myself seat I whispered in his ear: "stay safe."