“ A nephilim has been discovered .” Was announced on angel radio. Castiel shot up in the stolen truck he had acquired. He had been hiding from a group of angels that wanted his head on a plate. They had almost gotten him, but he’d managed to flee in the truck. He had fallen asleep after driving for a few hours.
“ What? A nephilim? That’s impossible, we ought to have felt it as soon as it was conceived? Who is the angelic father? ” another angel yelled over the radio.
Castiel started to panic; he thought he had hidden him well enough. How did they find him?
“ We must find it, and execute it .” A different angel announced.
No, no, no, no, they couldn’t have found him! He had hidden him away, somewhere no one would have found him. Away from hunting, away from this life. Away from Castiel.
The angel shuffled over to behind the wheel and turned the ignition, trying to decide on how to keep the angels from hurting him. He decided to go to Sam and Dean for help. They would help family, they always help family. He wouldn’t tell them about Theliel or that he was related to them, just that he needed help protecting a nephilim.
*13 & ½ Years earlier*
The apocalypse put a lot of stress on Team Free will, Dean especially. He would get frustrated easier, now that they were all crammed in Bobby’s house and he couldn’t go out; Demons were everywhere. Going outside of the warding would cause them a whole lot of problems that they didn’t want.
Dean would lash out, throw thing, yell at them. He would shout things like; “Why do we have to stop the apocalypse? Why not somebody else?” or “We don’t know how to stop it! What the fuck are we even doing?! Why do we even try?”
One evening Castiel had had enough; they were never going to be able to stop Lucifer if Dean wasn't at his best.
He cautiously came up to him after another one of his outbursts, “Dean?” he asked softly, not wanting to set him off again.
All he got was a grunt in response.
“Dean, I was wondering if I could help you.” He shuffled awkwardly back and forth on his feet.
Dean turned to face the angel, he'd never seen the angel this...awkward. Not since the strip club.
“What do you mean ‘help me’?” he asked him.
“Well, you’ve been angry- which is fair-minded. You want to go out, yes? Like you always do? But you can’t go out.” Dean raised an eyebrow at Castiel. The angel was acting oddly; he was usually more confident in his posture.
“Where the hell is this going?” he asked.
Castiel looked down at the floor and licked his lips before speaking, “It’s a bad idea, I just thought- I thought I could give you some relief. Uh, sexual-relief; I mean, I am aware that I am not female and, I do not have a-“
“Are you asking me to fuck you?” Dean asked disbelievingly.
“Well, it sounds a bit crude when you put it that way-“ He was cut off as he was grabbed by the collar and dragged upstairs.
That wasn’t the last time they did this. Whenever Dean was angry or frustrated, he would take Castiel up to his bedroom and fuck him senseless. Sometimes Dean would fuck into him slowly, long and affectionate movements. Other times he’d go hard and fast, sharp and precise thrusts getting Castiel to scream out his name as he came deep inside the angel, and leaving him sore in the morning.
This continued for months upon months as they tried to find a way to stop Lucifer. They never talked about it or mentioned it to others. It was just something they did, Dean would tell Castiel never to speak of it to anyone, and though Castiel was sad that it was little more than for Dean's relief, he was just happy to help the person he loved. He said nothing.
He was in love with the hunter, but he would deny it if you asked, because it’s wrong. Angels aren’t supposed to feel. Not lust, and most definitely not love.
So, he kept it hidden, from the angels, Sam and Bobby and most importantly Dean.
The last time it had happened, was just after Sam had kicked Lucifer back into the cage. Dean was grieving and angry that he’d lost Sam. But instead of yelling and breaking stuff like he did more often than not, he converted all his anger into lust and pounded into Castiel with all the strength he had left, gripping his sharp hips so hard that it left marks, hitting Castiel’s prostate every thrust; the angel screaming in pain and pleasure.
But this time had been different. Things weren’t the same as before, and they never would be again. It had changed that evening, changed in a way that had never been heard of before.
After Dean finished, he went to do what Sam told him to go do after his death; he went and found Ben and Lisa.
He left Castiel all alone in the bed, exhausted after Dean’s anger that had been taken out on him. A weak pulse of grace forming inside him.
It was in the beginning of the civil war in heaven, when Castiel discovered that he was with child. He didn’t understand how this could have happened, he was in a male vessel, but one thing was for sure; it was Dean’s. He had never laid with anyone else, nor did he want to.
He didn't get rid of it, he just couldn't. He knew it was selfish, but he loved them already, and he wanted them to love him back; he wanted something in this cruel world to care for him too. It was one of the only things of Dean’s he had left, this and the necklace Sam had given Dean when they were children. He found it in the trash, after Dean had tossed it away.
He wasn’t usually a sentimental person, but this was different. He knew he would never have Dean love him back; especially now that he lived happily with another woman and his other child. He lived a normal, happy life, away from hunting and demons and angels. Castiel could never take that away from him, he cared too deeply for him. So, he kept the child a secret.
It was a spontaneous decision, not as thought through as Castiel would have liked.
He carried it through term, hiding the bump when needed, and gave birth to a beautiful baby boy.
“Hello there, hi.” Castiel cooed at the newborn. He was still heaving from exhaustion. He was sore, he ached, but still- he had never felt happier.
“Hello, I’m your mother. But not for very much longer. God, I wish this could be different” He smiled sadly down at the baby boy in his arms, tears forming in his eyes. He was at war, he couldn’t raise a child at this time; in a world where they would be fleeing all their lives.
He didn’t have much hair, but the little hair his baby had was light brown like Dean’s. He looked so much like Dean; He was beautiful. And then there were the eyes. He had Castiel’s eyes, big blue orbs that always look so curious. They looked up at Castiel, and it made Castiel want to scream and curse at his father; he didn’t want to have to give him up.
He named the boy Theliel as he carved the angel protection into his rib cage. Theliel wailed as light shone from his chest, Castiel held the child close- trying to soothe him. He knew that he had hurt him, but he needed to do it if he wanted to keep him safe.
He used some of the little strength he had left to fly over to a small town where he had discovered a family that so desperately wanted a child. He walked up to their doorstep. He held Theliel close for the last time, breathing in his baby's scent. Castiel gave him a final kiss on his forehead and placed him on the doormat. As he placed him down he took the amulet out of the pocket of his trench coat and placed it around the neck of the boy. So, he’d have something of his father’s. Theliel deserved it more than Castiel did.
He picked up the corner of the blanket Theliel was wrapped in and used what little he had left of his grace, to write ‘Theliel’ on it. He wanted him to keep his name, he hoped this family would let him. He looked at his son for the last time, tears forming in his eyes. He would never see his little baby again. He smiled sadly.
“Stay safe. I love you. I love you so much.” he told him.
He stood up, wobbling a bit, and rang the doorbell as he stumbled away from the door. The last thing he heard was a person opening the door as he spread his broken and bruised wings, flying back to the place where he had given birth to his child.
As soon as he got back, he crashed onto the bed, which was covered in blood and various other fluids, but he didn’t care. He cried for hours, not caring if anyone heard him. He cried and cried, until there were no more tears to be shed. He had read about the pain of a mother being separated from their child, but he had never expected this.
He felt like an empty shell. Carrying a small human being around inside you for nine months, and then giving them away, leaves a void in places you didn't think possible.
With the last ounce of energy, he had left he whispered, “I’m sorry. I'm so, so sorry” before passing out .