Hush Little Baby Pt 1
Jimmy leaned against the bathroom wall. His head was spinning and he felt nauseous for the fourth morning that week. Leaning over the sink he retched, bringing up nothing but bile, until his stomach settled slightly. He knew that Dean had been in love with the angel. And in spite of Castiel trying to keep some distance between them he had given in, apparently in a lot bigger way than Jimmy could have ever imagined. It was getting pretty obvious to him that Dean and Castiel had slept together. They had used his body for sex, without his consent. The thought might have made Jimmy’s blood boil, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be angry. Somewhere along the line the angel must have picked up on Jimmy’s own feelings for the hunter. He knew without a doubt that he was in love with Dean. But the other man had loved the angel, in Jimmy’s body, not the man. And that hurt more than he could say. And now…this didn’t even bear thinking about.
Grumbling under his breath Jimmy staggered out of the bathroom and headed to the duffel bag that he and Dean had purchased for him the first day after the angel had left. Shrugging Jimmy dug through the clothes they had bought, second hand things, jeans and tees mostly. He hadn’t worn the suit and trench coat since Castiel’s departure. Finally he came up with clean socks. Quickly he settled on the bed pulling on his socks and sneakers. Grabbing his wallet off the bedside table Jimmy headed out of the motel room and down the street to the drug store he had seen earlier.
Dean was still nowhere to be found when Jimmy got back to the motel room. He placed the plastic bag he was carrying on the table and went to the window shoving the drapes aside. Pale morning sunlight spilled into the room, and he sighed. Dean’s car was still parked in the space just across the lot from the room so he hadn’t gone far. Dean would never leave the car, not now since it represented the last little bit of his past life left. Since Sam disappeared…Jimmy shuddered. He didn’t really want to think about that now. He had bigger problems than Dean’s AWOL brother.
Taking the plastic bag in hand Jimmy closed and locked the bathroom door, although with Dean out there was no reason to. Slowly he pulled out one of the three boxes in the bag ripping it open and shaking the contents out. He carefully read through the instructions and took a deep breath.
Half an hour later Jimmy was still standing beside the sink staring at the plastic wand in his hand. Inside the little plastic window was a large, garishly pink, plus sign. Dropping this wand onto the counter beside the other two he carefully retrieved the first test he had used hoping beyond hope that the test had magically changed to a blue negative sign, but the same garish pink cross glared back at him. He flipped the wand into the trash can, and then swept the other two off the counter with a snarl.
There was no questioning the results. Jimmy dug the heels of his hands into his eyes as if that might make him go blind so he couldn’t, at least, see the three pregnancy tests dotting the trash can, mocking him. Then Jimmy backed out of the bathroom staggering to the table and sank into one of the chairs. He was pregnant. Worse yet he was pregnant by a man who was in love with someone else. Someone who was never coming back and who shared Jimmy’s face and form. Someone who had hurt Dean to the point that he didn’t even want to look Jimmy in the eyes.
The door swung inward with so much force it caromed off the wall with a resounding bang. Jimmy flinched springing up, expecting a demon to be on the other side. But the very familiar form of Dean Winchester was standing, more or less, upright in the door. The sunlight framed his face so that Jimmy couldn’t read his expression until the other man staggered inside.
Dean dropped the brown paper bag he was carrying on the table next to Jimmy then cringed when he looked at the smaller man. Jimmy felt his stomach lurch again, but for an entirely different reason. Just as he had the past few days Dean turned away and Jimmy felt his heart sink. From his unsteady stance Jimmy could tell that Dean was well on his way to getting drunk, if he wasn’t already. He glanced at the clock and Dean snarled.
“Hey, it’s none of your business.”
Nodding Jimmy held up a hand. Dean had never actually hit him before, but he was unpredictable when he was drunk and now Jimmy had even more reason to want to stay out of his way. He settled for taking a few steps back, if Dean noticed he didn’t do or say anything about it.
Finally, he staggered to a chair and settled down staring up at the other man. Jimmy took a deep breath, “Uhhh, Dean I need to tell you something…”
Dean’s face froze, he flinched again. “Here it comes,” he thought quietly. “The big brush off. This is the man whose body you used to fuck your angel boyfriend and he has every right to be pissed off.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve got something I need to tell you too.” Dean hissed reaching for the paper bag. From the way the contents clinked Jimmy was pretty sure it contained bottles, and a lot of them. Dean fished out a bottle of whiskey and gave the lid a vicious twist. Jimmy watched through narrowed eyes as the liquid spilled into Dean’s mouth. “Don’t look at me like that,” he hissed at the other man then winced.
When Jimmy stood a certain way or looked at Dean with Castiel’s eyes it hurt. Not that they weren’t Jimmy’s eyes too. In fact it had surprised Dean just how much Jimmy and the angel had shared. Their mannerisms, way of speaking, and certainly the way they looked at Dean whether in good humor or bad.
Quickly Dean rose almost overbalancing. He grasped Jimmy’s shoulder to hold himself upright and Jimmy felt a thrill run through his body. The same as any time Dean touched him. In the beginning, right after the angels had left, Dean touched Jimmy a lot. A hand brushed across his back, a squeeze or a pat on the shoulder. But Jimmy had been confused, disorientated and by the time he realized that Castiel hadn’t been the only one in love with Dean the other man had taken Jimmy’s confusion for rejection.
Dean shoved himself away reaching into his back pocket. Abruptly he thrust a wrinkled envelope at the smaller man. Jimmy stared at it frowning. “Here take it.” Dean said.
Gingerly Jimmy took the envelope glancing inside. There was a white slip of paper, double sided, with a yellow duplicate beneath and cash. He couldn’t count the bills, but it was all tens and twenties. He glanced back up at the other man. Dean took another swig out of the bottle then thrust the neck at Jimmy splashing liquid across the tabletop.
“It’s for you. Bus tickets back to Pontiac and two hundred and fifty bucks. I figured fifty for each time I fucked you. It’s what the girls and guys on the corner are charging. I found that out last night.”
Jimmy felt the bile rising in his throat. He gagged and fled into the bathroom, hunching over the toilet. But nothing came up. Finally, he turned to the sink and splashed a little water over his face drying on one of the skimpy, rough textured towels hanging on the rack. When he went back into the room Dean was slumped over the table, the bottle settled at his elbow.
“I don’t want money from you. I can pay my own way. I don’t need anything from you.”
Jimmy said stiffly. Quickly he shoved his belongings into his bag and marched to the door. He paused, if only for a few seconds, hoping… almost praying… for Dean to apologize and call him back. When the other man remained silent Jimmy turned the door knob and headed outside into the late morning sun.
He had gotten five blocks before Jimmy realized that he didn’t know exactly where he was going. He glanced down the street and by some miracle the big old blue and orange Transamerica bus sign was flashing dully. Sighing Jimmy pulled his bag onto his shoulder and reached for his wallet. Then the flash of white paper in the outside pocket of the bag caught his sight. The envelope Dean had handed him was stuffed in the pocket, bus ticket spilling out and the cash tucked firmly inside.
He briefly thought about tossing the money inside the trashcan in the parking lot, but stopped. He’d put the money into a savings account for the baby. It might be the only thing the kid ever got from its father. He knew that he’d probably never see Dean Winchester again, and frankly he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to.
Dean continued drinking long after the other man left. He was glad that Jimmy was gone. He’d be better off away from Dean. And Dean couldn’t stand the constant reminders of what he had once had and was now missing. When the first bottle of Jack was empty and Dean could no longer sit upright at the table he tossed the bottle into the corner and moved to the bed. It was a little harder drinking out of a bottle half lying down, but far less distance to fall when he passed out.
A second bottle joined the first and by noon Dean was bleary eyed. He sank back on the bed breath rattling in his chest. With a sigh he rolled over and drifted into an uneasy sleep. It was dark outside when Dean woke again. He rolled over, feeling sick and dry mouthed. Staggering to his feet Dean stumbled to the bathroom flipping on the overhead light. Something hard and plastic crunched under his foot as Dean walked toward the toilet and he felt a shard of plastic digging into his skin. With a growled yelp Dean grabbed his leg hobbling to the toilet and collapsing on the seat with a muttered curse.
Grumbling under his breath Dean picked up the object from the floor. He was puzzled. It didn’t look like anything he’d ever seen before. Dean turned it over; it was a small plastic wand about the size of a dinner knife. It was smooth and featureless except for the tiny window in the upper half. The plastic sheet in the window had cracked out when Dean stepped on the thing, but the bright pink cross inside was still visible.
Frowning Dean reached down to toss the thing in the trash wondering where it had come from. It hadn’t been in the floor when he and Jimmy had checked in. In fact the room had been freshly cleaned when they arrived. So it must have been something Jimmy had left here. Dean’s frown deepened, brows drawing together when he found a second wand between the toilet and the tub and a third in the trashcan itself. Also in the can were three boxes, pink and white, with bold black print on the front. Dean wiped his eyes then focused on the writing. Then he gasped. Two words on the box stood out…pregnancy test.
Dean turned the box over reading through the fine print on the back. His vision was blurry at best but he still managed to make out the instructions. If the test was positive a pink plus sign would appear in the window. Three boxes in the trash can. Three plastic wands scattered throughout the bathroom. Jimmy had bought these things that morning. Dean was sure because the other man had been pretty sick recently. In fact Jimmy had woken Dean up with his retching and heaving on the past three days.
Dean settled back recalling his brief and ugly conversation with Jimmy before the other man had left. Jimmy’s pale face, and solemn blue eyes, “Dean I need to tell you something…”
Suddenly Dean froze feeling his head clear with almost frightening speed. Jimmy had been sick and he had bought the tests. All the tests were positive so…Dean’s breath hitched. Oh God…Jimmy was pregnant. And since Castiel had only been gone a week and Jimmy had been spending all his time, up until Dean had chased him away, with Dean there wasn’t much room for doubt. Jimmy was pregnant with Dean’s baby.
Dean stood hunched over the sink gagging. His mouth tasted like the back end of a cheap bottle of booze, and his head was pounding. He retched again, vomiting a thin stream of fluid into the chipped white porcelain. Finally, either his stomach was empty or he was just too tired to puke anymore. Scrubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hands Dean’s breath hitched in a sigh. He glanced up at the mirror and for a brief second his father’s face stared back at him, grim and hollow-eyed. He gasped.
Suddenly Dean was transported back in time some ten years earlier. Sammy was in his last year of high school and dad was hunting hard and drinking harder. Dean had been half-asleep on the battered sofa of the two bedroom furnished apartment that they had managed to scam somewhere in a little backwater town in Texas.
There was an abandoned, ramshackle asylum on the outskirts of town that was chocked full of angry spirits. John had worked construction at the rail yards, forty hours of back-breaking hard labor weekdays, and laid ghosts to rest in his spare time. And for once in their lives the pantry was always full, of course, there were a fair to middling number of Jack Daniels bottles tucked into the cabinet shelves too. But, Dean had never been adverse to a little liquid recreation himself, so why should he begrudge his father a little bit of southern comfort?
Still one morning Dean had been jolted awake by the heavy scraping of feet over the threadbare carpets. The bathroom light flickered into life and he shut his eyes against the harsh yellow glare.
John stood hunched over the sink, shoulders trembling from the efforts of ridding his body of the liquid poison he scarfed down before, possibly during, and most likely after a little corpse salting and burning.
His father had glanced into the mirror and caught sight of Dean sitting half reclined on the sofa blankets pooling in his lap. For the first time Dean was aware of his father looked old, used up. Eyes hollow and black smudged, skin drawn a little too tight on his bones, almost as brittle as the corpses he had been dealing with. Face bearded and wrinkled…
Dean blinked rubbing his eyes again and stared at the man in the mirror. His face was a portrait in misery. A week’s worth of rough stubble dirtied his face. The hard line of his mouth drawn into a bitter frown.
And for what, a dream that he could never realize? Castiel had been everything to Dean in the end. He had faced down heaven and hell for the hunter, for all humankind. And Dean had been truly in love, for the first time in his life. Then it was all over. The war was done, and Lucifer was back in the pit. And the angels in the hierarchy who would make Earth a paradise for their own kind had been destroyed, and the world was saved. All but Dean’s tiny little slice of heaven that he had carved out for himself. His little happy place with Sammy and Dean’s angel. Because in the end Sammy had left again. Turned his back on Dean when the guilt ate at him too much. And Dean’s stupid finally wish, for everything to be right, had gone horribly wrong.
Dean had been left with a cold, empty pit in his gut that was slowly growing warmer every time he looked across the room at a slender face and two big blue eyes. Eyes that were so familiar and yet a world different than he had been accustomed too. And yet, something inside Dean slipped, loosened up whenever the man had smiled at him. And Dean panicked, he had loved the angel not the man, at least he had thought that he did. They had been two separate entities, hadn’t they?
But each passing day since Castiel had gone back to heaven with the other angels Dean began to realize that Jimmy and the angel were not so different. That the soft smiles and gentle nature of the human had been wrapped around the hardened steel of the angel. That the love that shined out of blue eyes hadn’t been from some heavenly creature but from a real live human being. And that stung because Castiel was the one who loved Dean didn’t he?
All those times they had lain tangled together. All the warm skin, and slick sweat and the sweet push and pull of heated flesh. That had been Dean and Castiel, not Jimmy. Jimmy wasn’t supposed to know, wasn’t supposed to be awake. There was nothing between the two of them, Jimmy and Dean.
But Jimmy was the one who had Dean’s seed cradled inside him. Jimmy’s body arched and moaned and shivered in the throes of passion, and now Jimmy was the one with Dean’s baby growing in his belly.
Grumbling under his breath Jimmy staggered out of the bathroom and headed to the duffel bag that he and Dean had purchased for him the first day after the angel had left. Shrugging Jimmy dug through the clothes they had bought, second hand things, jeans and tees mostly. He hadn’t worn the suit and trench coat since Castiel’s departure. Finally he came up with clean socks. Quickly he settled on the bed pulling on his socks and sneakers. Grabbing his wallet off the bedside table Jimmy headed out of the motel room and down the street to the drug store he had seen earlier.
Dean was still nowhere to be found when Jimmy got back to the motel room. He placed the plastic bag he was carrying on the table and went to the window shoving the drapes aside. Pale morning sunlight spilled into the room, and he sighed. Dean’s car was still parked in the space just across the lot from the room so he hadn’t gone far. Dean would never leave the car, not now since it represented the last little bit of his past life left. Since Sam disappeared…Jimmy shuddered. He didn’t really want to think about that now. He had bigger problems than Dean’s AWOL brother.
Taking the plastic bag in hand Jimmy closed and locked the bathroom door, although with Dean out there was no reason to. Slowly he pulled out one of the three boxes in the bag ripping it open and shaking the contents out. He carefully read through the instructions and took a deep breath.
Half an hour later Jimmy was still standing beside the sink staring at the plastic wand in his hand. Inside the little plastic window was a large, garishly pink, plus sign. Dropping this wand onto the counter beside the other two he carefully retrieved the first test he had used hoping beyond hope that the test had magically changed to a blue negative sign, but the same garish pink cross glared back at him. He flipped the wand into the trash can, and then swept the other two off the counter with a snarl.
There was no questioning the results. Jimmy dug the heels of his hands into his eyes as if that might make him go blind so he couldn’t, at least, see the three pregnancy tests dotting the trash can, mocking him. Then Jimmy backed out of the bathroom staggering to the table and sank into one of the chairs. He was pregnant. Worse yet he was pregnant by a man who was in love with someone else. Someone who was never coming back and who shared Jimmy’s face and form. Someone who had hurt Dean to the point that he didn’t even want to look Jimmy in the eyes.
The door swung inward with so much force it caromed off the wall with a resounding bang. Jimmy flinched springing up, expecting a demon to be on the other side. But the very familiar form of Dean Winchester was standing, more or less, upright in the door. The sunlight framed his face so that Jimmy couldn’t read his expression until the other man staggered inside.
Dean dropped the brown paper bag he was carrying on the table next to Jimmy then cringed when he looked at the smaller man. Jimmy felt his stomach lurch again, but for an entirely different reason. Just as he had the past few days Dean turned away and Jimmy felt his heart sink. From his unsteady stance Jimmy could tell that Dean was well on his way to getting drunk, if he wasn’t already. He glanced at the clock and Dean snarled.
“Hey, it’s none of your business.”
Nodding Jimmy held up a hand. Dean had never actually hit him before, but he was unpredictable when he was drunk and now Jimmy had even more reason to want to stay out of his way. He settled for taking a few steps back, if Dean noticed he didn’t do or say anything about it.
Finally, he staggered to a chair and settled down staring up at the other man. Jimmy took a deep breath, “Uhhh, Dean I need to tell you something…”
Dean’s face froze, he flinched again. “Here it comes,” he thought quietly. “The big brush off. This is the man whose body you used to fuck your angel boyfriend and he has every right to be pissed off.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve got something I need to tell you too.” Dean hissed reaching for the paper bag. From the way the contents clinked Jimmy was pretty sure it contained bottles, and a lot of them. Dean fished out a bottle of whiskey and gave the lid a vicious twist. Jimmy watched through narrowed eyes as the liquid spilled into Dean’s mouth. “Don’t look at me like that,” he hissed at the other man then winced.
When Jimmy stood a certain way or looked at Dean with Castiel’s eyes it hurt. Not that they weren’t Jimmy’s eyes too. In fact it had surprised Dean just how much Jimmy and the angel had shared. Their mannerisms, way of speaking, and certainly the way they looked at Dean whether in good humor or bad.
Quickly Dean rose almost overbalancing. He grasped Jimmy’s shoulder to hold himself upright and Jimmy felt a thrill run through his body. The same as any time Dean touched him. In the beginning, right after the angels had left, Dean touched Jimmy a lot. A hand brushed across his back, a squeeze or a pat on the shoulder. But Jimmy had been confused, disorientated and by the time he realized that Castiel hadn’t been the only one in love with Dean the other man had taken Jimmy’s confusion for rejection.
Dean shoved himself away reaching into his back pocket. Abruptly he thrust a wrinkled envelope at the smaller man. Jimmy stared at it frowning. “Here take it.” Dean said.
Gingerly Jimmy took the envelope glancing inside. There was a white slip of paper, double sided, with a yellow duplicate beneath and cash. He couldn’t count the bills, but it was all tens and twenties. He glanced back up at the other man. Dean took another swig out of the bottle then thrust the neck at Jimmy splashing liquid across the tabletop.
“It’s for you. Bus tickets back to Pontiac and two hundred and fifty bucks. I figured fifty for each time I fucked you. It’s what the girls and guys on the corner are charging. I found that out last night.”
Jimmy felt the bile rising in his throat. He gagged and fled into the bathroom, hunching over the toilet. But nothing came up. Finally, he turned to the sink and splashed a little water over his face drying on one of the skimpy, rough textured towels hanging on the rack. When he went back into the room Dean was slumped over the table, the bottle settled at his elbow.
“I don’t want money from you. I can pay my own way. I don’t need anything from you.”
Jimmy said stiffly. Quickly he shoved his belongings into his bag and marched to the door. He paused, if only for a few seconds, hoping… almost praying… for Dean to apologize and call him back. When the other man remained silent Jimmy turned the door knob and headed outside into the late morning sun.
He had gotten five blocks before Jimmy realized that he didn’t know exactly where he was going. He glanced down the street and by some miracle the big old blue and orange Transamerica bus sign was flashing dully. Sighing Jimmy pulled his bag onto his shoulder and reached for his wallet. Then the flash of white paper in the outside pocket of the bag caught his sight. The envelope Dean had handed him was stuffed in the pocket, bus ticket spilling out and the cash tucked firmly inside.
He briefly thought about tossing the money inside the trashcan in the parking lot, but stopped. He’d put the money into a savings account for the baby. It might be the only thing the kid ever got from its father. He knew that he’d probably never see Dean Winchester again, and frankly he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to.
Dean continued drinking long after the other man left. He was glad that Jimmy was gone. He’d be better off away from Dean. And Dean couldn’t stand the constant reminders of what he had once had and was now missing. When the first bottle of Jack was empty and Dean could no longer sit upright at the table he tossed the bottle into the corner and moved to the bed. It was a little harder drinking out of a bottle half lying down, but far less distance to fall when he passed out.
A second bottle joined the first and by noon Dean was bleary eyed. He sank back on the bed breath rattling in his chest. With a sigh he rolled over and drifted into an uneasy sleep. It was dark outside when Dean woke again. He rolled over, feeling sick and dry mouthed. Staggering to his feet Dean stumbled to the bathroom flipping on the overhead light. Something hard and plastic crunched under his foot as Dean walked toward the toilet and he felt a shard of plastic digging into his skin. With a growled yelp Dean grabbed his leg hobbling to the toilet and collapsing on the seat with a muttered curse.
Grumbling under his breath Dean picked up the object from the floor. He was puzzled. It didn’t look like anything he’d ever seen before. Dean turned it over; it was a small plastic wand about the size of a dinner knife. It was smooth and featureless except for the tiny window in the upper half. The plastic sheet in the window had cracked out when Dean stepped on the thing, but the bright pink cross inside was still visible.
Frowning Dean reached down to toss the thing in the trash wondering where it had come from. It hadn’t been in the floor when he and Jimmy had checked in. In fact the room had been freshly cleaned when they arrived. So it must have been something Jimmy had left here. Dean’s frown deepened, brows drawing together when he found a second wand between the toilet and the tub and a third in the trashcan itself. Also in the can were three boxes, pink and white, with bold black print on the front. Dean wiped his eyes then focused on the writing. Then he gasped. Two words on the box stood out…pregnancy test.
Dean turned the box over reading through the fine print on the back. His vision was blurry at best but he still managed to make out the instructions. If the test was positive a pink plus sign would appear in the window. Three boxes in the trash can. Three plastic wands scattered throughout the bathroom. Jimmy had bought these things that morning. Dean was sure because the other man had been pretty sick recently. In fact Jimmy had woken Dean up with his retching and heaving on the past three days.
Dean settled back recalling his brief and ugly conversation with Jimmy before the other man had left. Jimmy’s pale face, and solemn blue eyes, “Dean I need to tell you something…”
Suddenly Dean froze feeling his head clear with almost frightening speed. Jimmy had been sick and he had bought the tests. All the tests were positive so…Dean’s breath hitched. Oh God…Jimmy was pregnant. And since Castiel had only been gone a week and Jimmy had been spending all his time, up until Dean had chased him away, with Dean there wasn’t much room for doubt. Jimmy was pregnant with Dean’s baby.
Dean stood hunched over the sink gagging. His mouth tasted like the back end of a cheap bottle of booze, and his head was pounding. He retched again, vomiting a thin stream of fluid into the chipped white porcelain. Finally, either his stomach was empty or he was just too tired to puke anymore. Scrubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hands Dean’s breath hitched in a sigh. He glanced up at the mirror and for a brief second his father’s face stared back at him, grim and hollow-eyed. He gasped.
Suddenly Dean was transported back in time some ten years earlier. Sammy was in his last year of high school and dad was hunting hard and drinking harder. Dean had been half-asleep on the battered sofa of the two bedroom furnished apartment that they had managed to scam somewhere in a little backwater town in Texas.
There was an abandoned, ramshackle asylum on the outskirts of town that was chocked full of angry spirits. John had worked construction at the rail yards, forty hours of back-breaking hard labor weekdays, and laid ghosts to rest in his spare time. And for once in their lives the pantry was always full, of course, there were a fair to middling number of Jack Daniels bottles tucked into the cabinet shelves too. But, Dean had never been adverse to a little liquid recreation himself, so why should he begrudge his father a little bit of southern comfort?
Still one morning Dean had been jolted awake by the heavy scraping of feet over the threadbare carpets. The bathroom light flickered into life and he shut his eyes against the harsh yellow glare.
John stood hunched over the sink, shoulders trembling from the efforts of ridding his body of the liquid poison he scarfed down before, possibly during, and most likely after a little corpse salting and burning.
His father had glanced into the mirror and caught sight of Dean sitting half reclined on the sofa blankets pooling in his lap. For the first time Dean was aware of his father looked old, used up. Eyes hollow and black smudged, skin drawn a little too tight on his bones, almost as brittle as the corpses he had been dealing with. Face bearded and wrinkled…
Dean blinked rubbing his eyes again and stared at the man in the mirror. His face was a portrait in misery. A week’s worth of rough stubble dirtied his face. The hard line of his mouth drawn into a bitter frown.
And for what, a dream that he could never realize? Castiel had been everything to Dean in the end. He had faced down heaven and hell for the hunter, for all humankind. And Dean had been truly in love, for the first time in his life. Then it was all over. The war was done, and Lucifer was back in the pit. And the angels in the hierarchy who would make Earth a paradise for their own kind had been destroyed, and the world was saved. All but Dean’s tiny little slice of heaven that he had carved out for himself. His little happy place with Sammy and Dean’s angel. Because in the end Sammy had left again. Turned his back on Dean when the guilt ate at him too much. And Dean’s stupid finally wish, for everything to be right, had gone horribly wrong.
Dean had been left with a cold, empty pit in his gut that was slowly growing warmer every time he looked across the room at a slender face and two big blue eyes. Eyes that were so familiar and yet a world different than he had been accustomed too. And yet, something inside Dean slipped, loosened up whenever the man had smiled at him. And Dean panicked, he had loved the angel not the man, at least he had thought that he did. They had been two separate entities, hadn’t they?
But each passing day since Castiel had gone back to heaven with the other angels Dean began to realize that Jimmy and the angel were not so different. That the soft smiles and gentle nature of the human had been wrapped around the hardened steel of the angel. That the love that shined out of blue eyes hadn’t been from some heavenly creature but from a real live human being. And that stung because Castiel was the one who loved Dean didn’t he?
All those times they had lain tangled together. All the warm skin, and slick sweat and the sweet push and pull of heated flesh. That had been Dean and Castiel, not Jimmy. Jimmy wasn’t supposed to know, wasn’t supposed to be awake. There was nothing between the two of them, Jimmy and Dean.
But Jimmy was the one who had Dean’s seed cradled inside him. Jimmy’s body arched and moaned and shivered in the throes of passion, and now Jimmy was the one with Dean’s baby growing in his belly.