Supernatural pregnancy BSM #4 Beach whale syndrome
A/N: You guys can make request for this series, you know
Plot: Beach whale syndrome
Age 19: “Dean! Can I borrow one of your shirts?” you called through the bunker, poking at the bump stretching the fabric of your shirt. “Maybe some shorts, too.”
Castiel had promised to take your shopping for some maternity clothes, but there had been some sort of breakthrough with the case in heaven, and he’d only popped down long enough to say – with eyes sparkling of hope – that he couldn’t leave now.
Both your brothers had offered to take you many times, but Castiel had confessed to feeling like he was missing it all – such as the first doctor appointment – and you wanted him to be a part of as much as he could.
Your door opened to reveal Dean standing with a soft-looking t-shirt and some worn shorts with an elastic band. You grabbed the clothes with a grateful smile, quickly shimmying out of the jeans you’d attempted to fit over the bump. When you were dressed again you thanked Dean with a kiss pressed to his cheek.
“We need to buy you some clothes for the little one soon. Sammy’s closet is almost empty,” Dean teased, but you could see the hint of worry in Dean’s eyes that you knew ran deeper than some silly maternity clothes.
“Dean, it’s not his fault. He’s trying to save the baby.” Your brother heaved a deep sigh before attempting a smile that looked more like a grimace.
“I know he is. Can’t really blame him, can I?” He sighed again. “Sammy’s making lunch, come eat with us.”
“Isn’t that Dean’s shirt?” Sam asked when you and your brother joined him in the kitchen.
“Yup. His shorts, too,” you said, hooking a thumb into the waistband and drawing it out before letting it snap back in place. Sam got the same pitying look in his eyes as Dean had, and you suddenly felt nauseous.
“Leave it,” you said curtly. You took the offered plate from Sam’s hand, and sat down at the countertop, keeping your eyes downcast as your brothers joined you, eating in silence while you brooded.
“How big is the bump now?” Sam said gently, smiling slightly as you met his eyes. You couldn’t help the grin that spread no your face as you pulled up the borrowed shirt, proudly displaying the little baby bump that was protruding, stretching the skin in a way you knew would leave marks.
“Can I?” Dean questioned. At your nod, two hands were immediately on your stomach, one from each brother. Their hands were warm on the taut skin, easing the sickening swirl of your stomach. You relaxed back in your chair, tipping your head back and closing your eyes with a content sigh, feeling the tension leak from your body. Sam’s free hand came up to your shoulder and started massaging you, and it was just a matter of seconds before Dean’s did the same.
When there was a flutter of wings, you were so drowsy you couldn’t even muster up the strength to open your eyes.
“Is she okay?” a nervous voice asked, shuffling around on the floor.
“She’s fine. Stressed, I think,” Dean muttered.
You assumed Castiel nodded and you finally let your eyes flutter open, turning your head to smile at Castiel. “Hey Cas.” The angel send you a little smile in return, but expression seemed to soften as your eyes met. “How’s heaven?”
His face didn’t fall immediately at the mention, which you took as a good sign. “Better than expected. They are starting to see the error of their ways. But they want you to come with me next time. So they can determine whether you’re capable of raising a Nephilim that won’t harm anyone.”
“And if they think I’m capable?”
Castiel nodded, and finally, a grin broke out on his face. “If they think you are capable, we will get to keep the baby.”
You jumped up from the chair and rushed into Castiel’s arms, tears of relief sprouting in your eyes as he clutched you tight, laughing into your ear. Something in your chest loosened and you went pliant in Castiel’s arms, counting on him to keep you up. It wasn’t long before two sets of arms wrapped around you as well, and your heart warmed as your brothers started babbling happily, keeping a slight distance so they wouldn’t hurt the baby.
“Thank you,” you whispered privately into Castiel’s shoulder, only for his ears, and received a gentle kiss to your temple in return.
“No, thank you. For giving me something to fight for.”