Dean pulled the back door shut softly, the corpse of their misguided angel of death safely locked in the Impala’s trunk. Luckily Cas’ lady friend (what was her name? Natalie? Nadine?) had a dark backyard and a low fence.
“Dean, she’s still too warm.” Castiel hovered over the baby’s crib, anxiety tightening his already husky voice. Dean frowned, joining his friend to look down at the baby girl. She was looking a little flushed. Castiel winced beside him and Dean looked up in concern to see the former angel cradling his left hand gingerly to his chest, the limb already looking bruised and swollen.
“Whoa, Cas,” Dean exclaimed in a low voice, “We gotta get that looked at, man.” Castiel shook his head resolutely.
“I’m fine,” he insisted, “Tanya first. There’s something wrong with her.”
“Dean.” Castiel’s gaze was distraught. “She’s my responsibility. Nora trusted me to care for her child and if something happens I’ll never-“
“Hey, hey, take it easy,” Dean coaxed, “Babies get fevers all the time. It’s not the end of the world.” Castiel reached into the crib, resting the back of his good hand delicately against the baby’s flushed cheek. His expression reminded Dean unsettlingly of the one Castiel had worn as an angel, uncertain whether his touch would heal or harm as he reached for Dean’s bruised and bloodied face in the crypt.
“I can’t fix her,” Castiel whispered, withdrawing his hand to rest impotently at his side. The baby stirred as Castiel’s touch left her, her tiny face working itself up to a good scowl before letting out a hiccupy wail. Castiel practically flinched as Tanya’s fevered cries filled the warm living room.
“Alright, scoot over,” Dean instructed, reaching into the crib to gather the little pink bundle into his arms.
“Are we going to the hospital?” Castiel asked.
“Nope, just the kitchen,” Dean answered, bouncing the baby gently, “We might not be able to fix her the way you’re used to, but there’s plenty of human ways to take care of a little fever. Lead the way?”
Tanya’s wailing settled as Dean rocked her, eyes wide as she took in the new stranger currently serving as her vehicle into the kitchen.
“Hello little lady,” Dean chirped, “You’re lookin’ a little peaked. My friend Cas here is real worried about you, so we’re gonna see what momma keeps in the cupboard for times such as these.”
Castiel stayed close on the short journey, hands hovering but never quite touching. Dean firmly banished the image of a “guardian angel” from his mind.
“What should I be looking for?” Castiel asked, opening a few cupboards at random before locating a smaller shelf of bottles and pills.
“Tylenol, Motrin,” Dean suggested, “Anything liquid that says ‘fever reducer’ is good. Better if it says ‘infant’ on it somewhere.” He leaned against the kitchen counter and rocked the baby for a few moments until Cas emerged with a small bottle filled with orange liquid. The former angel squinted at the label intently, a concentrated frown gracing his rugged features.
“Dean, this says there’s a risk of vomiting or rash if we give her this,” he noted with concern. Dean tucked Tanya against his chest as he took the bottle, scanning the warnings and dosage.
“It’s just the side effect warning,” Dean assured him, “Companies have to list them to cover their asses, but it almost never happens. Now check the silverware drawer for something that looks like an eye dropper, or a syringe with no needle.”
Castiel looked somewhat relieved and a short search produced the needed device. Dean rubbed Tanya’s back, cooing intermittently as he coached his friend through the measuring process. Becoming human hadn’t put a dent in Castiel’s fine motor skills, Dean noted as the former angel carefully drew an exact half dose from the narrow bottle neck into the plastic syringe.
“Please tell me we’re not going to attempt to inject Tanya with this,” Castiel deadpanned, brandishing the medicine dropper. Dean chuckled as he adjusted the infant to face Cas.
“Nah,” he grinned, “It’s just easier for the tiny ones than a spoon. Ready?”
“I think so,” Castiel answered solemnly. Tanya looked on in interest as Castiel guided the tip of the syringe to the baby’s lips.
“There you go,” Dean hummed as Castiel slowly pressed the plunger, “Nice and easy.”
Tanya screwed up her face in disgust, but swallowed anyway, Dean’s hand rubbing her tummy soothingly.
“I know it sucks baby girl,” Dean murmured, “But you’ll feel better in the long run.”
Castiel washed the dropper in the sink before returning to examine Tanya closely. She watched him back, eyes already drooping as the meds did their work.
“She’ll be out like a light in a minute,” Dean said quietly. Castiel nodded, then froze as Tanya’s tiny hand landed on his cheek. The baby smiled, patting affectionately over Castiel’s stubbled jaw before curling up against Dean’s chest. Dean grinned at the former angel, who looked back in wide eyed awe.
“Guess she likes you,” he noted, “C’mon. I’ll set you up and then go take care of that body.”
Holding a baby proved difficult when one of your hands was possibly broken, but Castiel didn’t want to put Tanya back in the crib till her fever was down. He ended up on the sofa, Dean carefully laying Tanya on his chest. Castiel cradled her with his good arm, leaning back so her weight was safely tipped against him. Dean tucked one of the extra baby blankets over the two of them, sure to cover the baby’s feet, careful not to lean in too close, or let his fingers stray onto the crisp blue cotton of Castiel’s shirt.
“You gonna be alright?” Dean asked, “I can stay, it’s no big deal.”
“No, we’re fine, I think,” Castiel answered, “Besides, Nora might not find me as trustworthy if she arrives to find I’ve invited a strange man into her house.”
Dean chuckled. “Alright, I’m gonna go handle Mr. Merciful,” he said, “You call me when your friend gets home, and we’ll go take care of your hand.”
Castiel nodded, rocking Tanya lightly. “I will,” he promised, “Thank you, Dean.”
“No prob, see you in a bit.”
As Dean opened the back door a low, off-key murmuring emanated from the living room. He paused for just a minute to listen before heading back out into the night.
I don’t do too much talking these days…
