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Sam needed a doctor. This flu wasn’t going away on its own, and Cas’ stolen grace was fading much to quickly to be used on something that antibiotics could easily fix. He’d only been getting sicker as the week went by, and Dean was picking up on it.
Big green eyes welled up with tears as Dean squirmed in Castiel’s arms, whining behind the pacifier tied around his head as he reached for Sam.
Dean was fighting his regression again.
It hadn’t been easy to get Dean to accept his new role, the diapers and bottle feedings proved to be the biggest challenge to the stubborn hunter. But Sam and Cas had both been firm on their decision to regress Dean back into a second infanthood. There was just something broken in Dean, tracing all the way back to the foundation of his life, when John drilled into his four year old head, “Take care of your brother, look out for Sammy.”
Sam suspected that this was the reason Dean was struggling to get back into an adult headspace after two entire months without a single problem. This was the first time since they’d begun the regression that Sam hadn’t been a solid force, unbendable in willpower, comfort, and love. Part of Dean still felt like he had to take care of Sam, a part only brought out by Sam’s slight sickness. It was obviously something he’d have to condition Dean out of as soon as Sam was better.
That was also why he’d tied Dean’s pacifier behind his head. It hadn’t been necessary to force it to stay in place in a very long time, but when Sam had started getting sick, Dean had tried to use big boy words, and it was still much to early for that. The pacifier was a reminder that Dean was little now. He didn’t make decisions, he relied on Sam to take care of him, feed him, bathe him, change him, love him.
Which was why this was going to be a trial, as this would be the first time Castiel would be taking care of Dean without Sam’s constant presence.
“I’m going to be back real soon, I promise, Dee,” Sam said gently to Dean, carefully kissing his baby brother on the top of the head so he wouldn’t spread the virus. “Uncle Cas is going to take very good care of you, so don’t you worry one little bit.”
~
Castiel watched Dean as Sam left the bunker, his eyes growing wide and his body beginning to tremble the farther away Sam walked. The instant the door shut, the crying started.
Dean wailed, kicking his legs and pushing away from Cas’ chest, tears streaming down the sides of his face.
Cas started hushing him, pulling Dean’s head down to rest on his shoulder. “Shh Dee, Daddy won’t be gone very long. I promise.”
But Dean wasn’t listening. He rubbed his mitten-covered hand against the pacifier, trying to dislodge it and struggling to pull his head away from Cas’ neck.
It was time for some serious action.
Castiel carried Dean towards the kitchen, bouncing Dean in his arms and humming a nonsensical tune as he went. Placing Dean into his highchair was harder than it should have been. Dean did not want to be strapped in, and writhed in the chair as Cas tried to pull him into the harness. But Cas was still an angel, even if he was falling, and soon the straps were buckled across Dean’s chest, and his wrists were secured to the arms of the chair, allowing Cas to lock the removable tray in front of Dean.
Dean screamed behind the pacifier, kicking his legs against the tray in a silent demand to be let out. Cas only brought his hand to Dean’s head, brushing his fingers through his hair in a soothing motion. “Hush, baby, there’s no reason to be so upset.”
But Dean’s response was a renewed bout of tears, his head jerking away from the angel.
Sighing, Castiel went to the refrigerator to prepare food. Dean had missed his morning bottle during a small tantrum, and looking at how worked up he was, he would need a little extra something to make him calm down.
He returned to Dean as quickly as he could with some warmed food and a medicated bottle. Cas set the food on the tray before picking up a bib that was bright blue with a sailboat on top and began tying it around Dean’s neck. Dean was no longer sobbing, but hiccupping slightly behind the bulb filling his mouth. When Cas’ hands came up to the buckle keeping the pacifier in place, he saw Dean tense.
“Dean, I know you’re going to be a good boy for me if I take this out, won’t you?” Castiel paused, speaking sternly. Slowly, as if it was physically difficult to answer, Dean nodded his head slightly.
Cas undid the buckle, and pulled the pacifier from Dean’s mouth, a line of drool still attached to his lips. Cas used the bib to wipe Dean’s face, and dipped a spoon into the mashed peas sitting in front of Dean.
Cas brought the spoonful of green mush to Dean’s mouth, but his lips stayed firmly sealed. Dean’s eyes were red and puffy, the evidence of tear tracks still streaked down his face. But Dean was glaring at Castiel, his eyes filled with a certain light of defiance that Cas had been certain they’d broken Dean out of months ago.
“Dean Winchester,” Castiel said sharply, exuding as much power and authority as he could. “You are going to behave yourself and eat your food, or you will end up over my knee. Do you understand me, little boy?”
The defiance in Dean’s eyes flickered out immediately, and tears began to pool in front of his irises once again. But his jaw slackened, and Dean opened his mouth, allowing Castiel to push the spoonful of peas into his mouth. Castiel knew that Dean didn’t like peas, as was apparent by the faces he made after every bite. But he continued to allow Cas to feed him and wipe the excess mush from the sides of his mouth.
Soon, however, Dean began to whimper quietly as Cas brought yet another spoonful of the peas to his mouth, and he turned his head away as tears began to slip down his face once again.
“Come on, Dee. You’re almost finished. Open up for me,” the angel said gently following Dean’s mouth with the spoon. Dean just shook his head, pushing as far away as he could manage, his face screwed up and turning red. “Just a few more spoonful’s and you’ll be done,” he continued to coax. “You can have your bottle, take a little nap, and before you know it, Daddy will be home. Please be a good baby for me.”
“NO!”
Dean’s sudden outburst took Castiel completely by surprise, but now that he’d spoken, Dean seemed ready to talk.
“No! No no no no! I won’t! I won’t eat any fucking more!”
The color drained from Dean’s face. He knew the instant that naughty word slipped past his lips that he’d crossed the line. Any leeway he might have gotten from Castiel was gone.
Castiel, for his part, stayed completely calm. He set the spoon down on the tray, ignoring the way Dean had started trembling in his chair. He undid the bib and used it to wipe Dean’s face. The tray was pulled back, the restraints on Dean’s wrists undone, and the straps unbuckled. Dean didn’t struggle. He didn’t fight it as Castiel lifted him out of the seat and sat down on a chair, pulling Dean so that he was lying across the angel’s lap. Dean just screwed his eyes shut, tears sneaking out and down his face anyway.
Castiel’s hand came down swiftly, connecting sharply with Dean’s rear. Dean gave a small yelp, jumping slightly as the angel’s palm connecting. The hand came down again…and again, and again, and again. It was a flurry that seemed to never stop. It didn’t take long until Dean was full out sobbing, wailing loudly with shock and shame. Castiel knew that he wasn’t hurting Dean. That wasn’t the purpose of a spanking. The purpose was to remind him of his place, to remind the little boy who was in charge, and to let him know what he’d done was wrong. Dean’s tears came from the actual action, not the feeling of it. Despite his fervent protests in the early days, Dean needed Sam and Castiel. Dean needed their presence, their acceptance, their love, and when he was being spanked, it was because he’d done something to make Daddy or Uncle Cas unhappy. Castiel knew that was why Dean was crying. He knew that deep in his heart, Dean still feared being left behind, alone and unloved by the people he needed most. Every time Dean got a spanking, the angel could practically hear the anguished fears of abandonment in Dean’s mind, and it just made his heart break.
That was why spankings were so rare, especially for Cas to give. In any other circumstance, Cas would have chosen anything else as punishment. A time out, soaping out his mouth, or even an early bedtime, but when Dean was already pushing the boundaries that he and Sam had set for him, the little hunter needed to be reminded and put back into place.
Dean was gasping for breath now, his sobs shaking his whole body. Castiel finished the spanking, and quickly pulled Dean up into his arms, cradling the regressed man and putting his head underneath his chin. He rocked Dean back and forth, holding onto his little boy tightly as he continued to cry himself out, a hand clinging unconsciously into the fabric of Castiel’s coat.
“Hush, my sweet baby boy. It’s all okay. I’m right here. I’m right here sweetheart,” Castiel whispered into Dean’s ear, keeping his arms firmly wrapped around Dean. “I love you, Dean. I love you so much.”
Dean began to cry harder at that, his hands clenching at Castiel’s chest even more. It was at these moments when Castiel knew that this was the right thing for Dean. So deeply seeded were his fears and abandonment issues, that the only chance of healing was from the bottom up. Eventually, Dean would come to realize that neither he nor Sam would ever leave him. He’d know, in his very soul, that he would be loved and cared for and about for all of eternity, no matter what hardships they faced, no matter what mistakes they made a long the way. Because they were a family, even as strange as they were. With the youngest brother as a devoted father, a millennia old angle as a loving uncle, and the older brother as the baby. It wasn’t a typical dynamic, it wasn’t normal, but it was what the Winchester family needed.
Eventually, Dean began to quiet down, but Cas continued to whisper words of love and safety into his ears. Castiel used his thumbs to brush away some of the moisture from Dean’s face, and reached over to the tray of the highchair to grab Dean’s bottle.
“Here now, my good baby boy,” Cas said as he offered the bottle to Dean.
He didn’t even hesitate. The moment the nipple of the bottle brushed against Dean’s lips, he latched on and began to suckle, his eyes drooping to half mast almost instantly.
“Good boy, Dee,” Cas’ voice was warm. “That’s such a good, sweet, beautiful, baby boy.”
The bottle wasn’t even half way finished before Dean’s mouth went slack. Castiel pulled the bottle form his little boy’s mouth, and set it on the table. Standing, with Dean still wrapped up tightly in his arms, Castiel began to walk towards the nursery. Along the way, he noticed that Dean had wet himself sometime during the spanking and bottle feeding. Cas took him to the changing table and laid Dean’s sleepy figure down. He unsnapped the buttons covering his crotch, and pushed up the fabric of Dean’s onesie. Undoing the diaper, Cas tried to be careful in lifting Dean up so as not to wake him, but by the time Cas had removed the soiled diaper and spread out another one underneath his bottom, Dean’s eyes were open, and a light blush was covering Dean’s cheeks.
Castiel just smiled kindly down at Dean, making no comment on his nudeness by the waste down. Dean was still embarrassed by having his diaper changed, but as many other things, this would change with enough time and love. Cas wiped Dean’s privates with a baby wipe, making sure he got every area of skin before swiping the wipe at Dean’s backside just to make sure. Lotion warmed carefully in Castiel’s hands came next, massaging Dean’s skin from up his hips down to the tops of his thighs. A light dusting of baby powder came next, to keep Dean clean and comfy, and Cas pulled the front of the diaper up snuggly, wrapping the sides around Dean’s waist to tape it up.
Cas slid a pair of plastic pants up Dean’s legs, and redid the buttons of the onesie, covering up his diaper. He lifted Dean off the table and took him over to the crib, laying Dean down carefully and reaching into his pocket to grab one of the pacifiers that didn’t tie behind Dean’s head.
“Uncle Cas?” Dean’s voice was very timid, almost inaudible, but Castiel stilled at once. “I…I l-love you, Uncle Cas.”
Dean’s face was bright red, and he looked afraid, like he thought he might receive another spanking. But Castiel just beamed, and bent over to kiss Dean gently on his brow. “I love you too, Dee. Always.”
For a moment, Dean smiled. An honest, completely truthful, joyous smile. But the medicine that Cas had put in his bottle was pulling Dean back to sleep. Castiel pressed the pacifier to Dean’s lips, who accepted it at once, sucking calmly on the rubber with a sigh as he fell asleep.
As Castiel pulled the covers up over his sleeping boy, he couldn’t get over the feelings of elation in his chest.
When he and Sam had started this, they’d both agreed that until Dean was completely accepting, talking of any sort wouldn’t be allowed. But hearing Dean call him “Uncle Cas,” and his little boy’s confession of love, Castiel figured that this could be an exception.
Now Castiel couldn’t wait to rub it in Sam’s face that Dean had said “Uncle Cas” before he’d said “Daddy.”
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