Baby Mine 06
Summary: When Gabriel is tasked with caring for a child, he immediately knows that this isn't a good idea. So he instead sends the kid to someone he knows is mature and responsible enough - Castiel. This can only end in tears.
Warnings: Seriously screwing with ages?
Disclaimer: HP and SPN are not mine. More's the pity.
“Bobby!”
“Hey Runt, Feathers,” Bobby nodded at Teddy, who was smiling at him from Castiel’s grip. It was now standard for the angel’s appearance to be announced by Teddy greeting people. His vocabulary was still rather limited, but he was learning names fairly quickly.
“Bobby,” Castiel nodded. “I trust all is well here?”
“Sure. You need a babysitter again?” Bobby set aside the book he’d been reading, surprising himself with his eagerness to see Teddy again. He figured it had something to do with having the Winchester boys around so often in their childhood.
“Not exactly,” the angel said, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “I just… need to speak with someone capable of complete sentences. Someone who’s not another angel.”
Bobby paused for a moment, then grinned.
“Ah, I gotcha. Most single parents feel like that from time to time. Give the tyke here,” the grizzled hunter scooped Teddy into his own embrace, accepting that the kid immediately tried to steal his cap. “Now, let’s get you settled somewhere. You got any toys for him?” He directed the last question at Castiel, who held out a stuffed toy wolf, which was missing an eye.
“He enjoys playing with this. I believe it is the repressed werewolf genes.”
“Werewolf genes?” Bobby was suddenly still, which gave Teddy the opportunity to nab his cap and put it on his own head. “The kid’s a werewolf?” That would certainly explain why Castiel was raising him instead of his parents.
“Not exactly,” Castiel tilted his head slightly. “His father was a European werewolf. It’s unusual - normally when werewolf and metamorphmagus genes are mixed, a shape-shifter is created. This time, however, he merely gained a few benefits without becoming a skin-shedding monster.”
“Uh huh,” Bobby said dryly, putting Teddy down. The kid stood up and took his toy, before climbing underneath the desk and starting to play. It appeared to be a game with no sense whatsoever, though that could have just been because one of the participants was a hat. “And just what is a metamorphmagus?”
“A mage born with the ability to change their appearance. It doesn’t often happen outside of Europe.”
“I see.” Heading into the kitchen, Bobby snagged his coffee mug for a refill. “So normally Teddy would’ve been a monster, but for some reason he’s not?”
“Yes. Though it’s rare enough for a werewolf to have a child with anyone other than another werewolf, so there’s no real standard.”
“And what benefits were you talking about before?” That was the part that had Bobby worried the most. The thought that Teddy wasn’t human, might turn into something else, was more disturbing than he’d like to admit.
“Slightly heightened strength and senses,” Castiel shrugged. “I’ve already noticed that his hair and eyes sometimes change colour. Though in all, he’ll mostly just pass for a slightly odd human.”
“Right,” Bobby glanced back to where Teddy had put his cap on, and was hugging the stuffed wolf close. “Slightly odd. Well, that’s one way of describing him.” He paused, considering, then turned back to Castiel. “How old is he again?”
“One year, four months, sixteen days,” Castiel promptly replied. It had already unnerved the Winchesters how he knew exactly how old Teddy was.
“Hmm. He’s pretty far along for a kid that young. You giving him anything extra to speed development?”
“My older brother suggested I give him this,” Castiel dug a bar of chocolate from his pocket. “Apparently it is good for children.”
Bobby gave him a Look, which was unfortunately lost on the angel as he had no idea what it was he’d done wrong.
“Chocolate is not good for kids. Not large amounts, anyway. How much are you giving him?”
“Two bars a day. Is that too much?” Castiel looked genuinely confused, and Bobby had to close his eyes in a grimace.
“Two bars… your brother’s an idiot if he really thinks it’s good for kids. You’re lucky you ain’t dealing with a permanent sugar rush from the runt.”
“Oh. But he likes it, and it does seem to help him grow.”
There was another pause as both angel and hunter watched Teddy climb to his feet and walk towards them. He was much steadier now, and again Bobby noticed that he shouldn’t be so adept just yet. Then again, it was better than him being under-developed.
“I dunno,” Bobby sighed, watching as Castiel unwrapped the chocolate and gave it to his son. “Maybe it’s good for werewolves or something. Not like I’m an expert on them.”
“Apparently his father believed that chocolate cures anything,” Castiel murmured, and Bobby noticed that his voice tightened a little at acknowledging that another man was Teddy’s biological father. “Perhaps it is part of their physiology, that chocolate is a necessary part of the werewolf diet.”
“Possibly,” Bobby said. The two watched as Teddy started munching away, soon with melted chocolate on his hands, face, clothes, and somehow, his hair. “That kid can make a mess with anything.”
“Yes,” Castiel agreed. “It is a skill.”
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Warnings: Seriously screwing with ages?
Disclaimer: HP and SPN are not mine. More's the pity.
“Bobby!”
“Hey Runt, Feathers,” Bobby nodded at Teddy, who was smiling at him from Castiel’s grip. It was now standard for the angel’s appearance to be announced by Teddy greeting people. His vocabulary was still rather limited, but he was learning names fairly quickly.
“Bobby,” Castiel nodded. “I trust all is well here?”
“Sure. You need a babysitter again?” Bobby set aside the book he’d been reading, surprising himself with his eagerness to see Teddy again. He figured it had something to do with having the Winchester boys around so often in their childhood.
“Not exactly,” the angel said, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “I just… need to speak with someone capable of complete sentences. Someone who’s not another angel.”
Bobby paused for a moment, then grinned.
“Ah, I gotcha. Most single parents feel like that from time to time. Give the tyke here,” the grizzled hunter scooped Teddy into his own embrace, accepting that the kid immediately tried to steal his cap. “Now, let’s get you settled somewhere. You got any toys for him?” He directed the last question at Castiel, who held out a stuffed toy wolf, which was missing an eye.
“He enjoys playing with this. I believe it is the repressed werewolf genes.”
“Werewolf genes?” Bobby was suddenly still, which gave Teddy the opportunity to nab his cap and put it on his own head. “The kid’s a werewolf?” That would certainly explain why Castiel was raising him instead of his parents.
“Not exactly,” Castiel tilted his head slightly. “His father was a European werewolf. It’s unusual - normally when werewolf and metamorphmagus genes are mixed, a shape-shifter is created. This time, however, he merely gained a few benefits without becoming a skin-shedding monster.”
“Uh huh,” Bobby said dryly, putting Teddy down. The kid stood up and took his toy, before climbing underneath the desk and starting to play. It appeared to be a game with no sense whatsoever, though that could have just been because one of the participants was a hat. “And just what is a metamorphmagus?”
“A mage born with the ability to change their appearance. It doesn’t often happen outside of Europe.”
“I see.” Heading into the kitchen, Bobby snagged his coffee mug for a refill. “So normally Teddy would’ve been a monster, but for some reason he’s not?”
“Yes. Though it’s rare enough for a werewolf to have a child with anyone other than another werewolf, so there’s no real standard.”
“And what benefits were you talking about before?” That was the part that had Bobby worried the most. The thought that Teddy wasn’t human, might turn into something else, was more disturbing than he’d like to admit.
“Slightly heightened strength and senses,” Castiel shrugged. “I’ve already noticed that his hair and eyes sometimes change colour. Though in all, he’ll mostly just pass for a slightly odd human.”
“Right,” Bobby glanced back to where Teddy had put his cap on, and was hugging the stuffed wolf close. “Slightly odd. Well, that’s one way of describing him.” He paused, considering, then turned back to Castiel. “How old is he again?”
“One year, four months, sixteen days,” Castiel promptly replied. It had already unnerved the Winchesters how he knew exactly how old Teddy was.
“Hmm. He’s pretty far along for a kid that young. You giving him anything extra to speed development?”
“My older brother suggested I give him this,” Castiel dug a bar of chocolate from his pocket. “Apparently it is good for children.”
Bobby gave him a Look, which was unfortunately lost on the angel as he had no idea what it was he’d done wrong.
“Chocolate is not good for kids. Not large amounts, anyway. How much are you giving him?”
“Two bars a day. Is that too much?” Castiel looked genuinely confused, and Bobby had to close his eyes in a grimace.
“Two bars… your brother’s an idiot if he really thinks it’s good for kids. You’re lucky you ain’t dealing with a permanent sugar rush from the runt.”
“Oh. But he likes it, and it does seem to help him grow.”
There was another pause as both angel and hunter watched Teddy climb to his feet and walk towards them. He was much steadier now, and again Bobby noticed that he shouldn’t be so adept just yet. Then again, it was better than him being under-developed.
“I dunno,” Bobby sighed, watching as Castiel unwrapped the chocolate and gave it to his son. “Maybe it’s good for werewolves or something. Not like I’m an expert on them.”
“Apparently his father believed that chocolate cures anything,” Castiel murmured, and Bobby noticed that his voice tightened a little at acknowledging that another man was Teddy’s biological father. “Perhaps it is part of their physiology, that chocolate is a necessary part of the werewolf diet.”
“Possibly,” Bobby said. The two watched as Teddy started munching away, soon with melted chocolate on his hands, face, clothes, and somehow, his hair. “That kid can make a mess with anything.”
“Yes,” Castiel agreed. “It is a skill.”
Prev Next