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The evening air felt warm and heavy- unusual for September. Bobby's house crouched like a sleeping monster, windows and doors open to catch a nonexistent breeze. Electric fans that were banished to the garage only weeks ago had been brought back in an effort to move the stagnant air. Inside the house, sitting on the couch in nothing but boxers and a sleeveless shirt, was a heavily-pregnant Sam. His hair was loosely tied back at the nape of his neck, and his face was flushed and shining with sweat: he'd been in labor for the better part of the day. Every so often his steady breathing was punctuated with deep, tuneless humming on each exhale, as a contraction tightened his abdomen. The book propped on his belly provided little distraction; he picked it up, put it down, opened and closed it again and again...once he realized he'd read the same chapter three times, he gave up altogether and tossed the damn thing aside. Bobby peered at him from the kitchen.
"You okay there, boy...?"
"Fine."
Suddenly he shifted, tried to stand up. "...Dean?"
Dean, who had been at his side all day, was dozing in a chair nearby. He jumped awake at the sound of his name. "Sammy? What's up?"
"I need to walk."
Dean stood up, stretched, and stifled a yawn. "Alright, uh...where?"
"I dunno, anywhere. Someplace that isn't this couch. I don't care. I just need to move." he made another awkward attempt to stand. "Are you gonna help me or not?"
"Okay, okay, keep your shirt on." Dean grabbed Sam's wrists and, after a count of three, pulled him to his feet in a single well-practiced movement. Sam swayed in place for a moment, giving Dean the chance to put an arm around his back for support. "You still timing the contractions?"
"Yes." said Sam, as though Dean had asked if the sky was blue. "Last one was about fourteen minutes." he glanced around. "Why don't we go outside, I'm gonna sweat to death in here."
"I don't think you'll be much better out there." Dean pointed out.
"I don't really care. At least it's a change of scenery."
"You need to conserve your energy, dude-"
"For fuck's sake, Dean, I'll be fine!"
"...Okay. Whatever you say." Dean surrendered. Trying to argue with Sam was pretty much hopeless at this point. "Lead on."
Sam set off toward the door, half-leaning on his brother and holding his belly as though afraid it might fall off and roll away.
"Bobby, Sam and I are gonna walk around outside for a bit." Dean called over his shoulder.
"What?? Sam, you really oughta save yer energy. You're gonna need it later." Bobby called after them.
"That's what I told him."
Sam sighed deeply at both of them, and closed the screen door behind him with as much of a BANG as he could muster.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~
Not even ten minutes into their walk- barely halfway down the street -Sam's legs buckled and he crumpled against his brother. "Dean- Dean, hold up for a sec, it- ah, fuck-" he hissed through his teeth.
"'S okay, I gotcha." Dean eased him to the ground and squatted beside him. Sam hummed deep in his chest until the contraction passed. Then he looked up at Dean with worry painted across his face.
"That was like five minutes. I thought you said the contractions were at fourteen?" Dean frowned at him.
"They were," Sam panted, "'till now."
"Great...well, it is Gabriel's kid; I guess we should've expected something like this."
Sam groaned. "Let's just go back to the house."
"Can you walk okay?"
"...Yeah, I think so."
Sam clasped his hands at the back of Dean's neck. Hooking his own hands under Sam's arms, Dean stood up slowly, lifting his brother along with him. They were steady for a few moments before Sam's legs gave way again. Dean swore.
"Sonofabitch- BOBBY!"
The screen door flew open with a screech and Bobby hurried toward them, fuming. "You idjits...!" he threw Sam's free arm over his shoulder and hoisted him back to a standing position. "Hate to say I told you so, but I told you so. C'mon."
Another contraction and a few missed steps later, they had Sam back inside and settled on the guest bed. Preparations for the birth had been set out hours before: a roll of string, a pair of scissors, and several bottles of clean water sat on the nightstand, and a pile of clean white towels laid at the foot of the bed. Bobby ruffled Sam's hair. "Yer in the home stretch now. Hang in there, boy." he ambled over to the door. "Just holler if you need anything."
Then the door clicked shut, and they were alone. Sam stared at the ceiling, massaging his belly.
"...So." said Dean. "This is it."
"This is it." Sam echoed.
"...Holy crap. I'm gonna be an uncle." Dean sat down on the edge of the bed. Towels toppled onto the floor. Sam sat up and opened his mouth to speak, but the words died in his throat with the start of a new contraction. He grabbed Dean's hand and squeezed it. Dean bit back a yelp; maybe now was the time to call Cas. They probably should've called earlier, but Sam hadn't wanted many people in the house...he coughed politely and shut his eyes.
"Hey babe, it's me. Wherever you are, we could really use your help. Or at least your presence. Like, ASAP."
Within moments, the sound of wingbeats filled the room, announcing the angel's arrival. Dean opened his eyes; Cas stood in the center of the room, as nonchalant as if he'd just walked through the door. "Hello Dean."
"Hey."
"I take it your brother is in labor...?" Cas gazed calmly at Sam, who was back to massaging his belly.
"Yeah, since this morning-"
"Ten. Fucking. Hours." Sam groaned.
"How are you faring?"
"I've been better, but it's managable." Sam smiled weakly. "The contractions don't actually hurt much- high pain tolerance; I guess Hell will do that to you-" he grimaced and shifted his hips. "But the pressure is just...ngh."
Dean put a hand on his brother's knee. "Well, you're doin' a lot better than I would; I'd probably be screaming bloody murder by now."
"Sam." Cas spoke up. "Has Gabriel been informed of this situation...?"
Sam's face was unreadable. He looked away from Dean and Cas. "He doesn't need to see me like this."
"What? That's bullshit, Sam. He's not gonna care how you look; you're having a kid, it's not exactly the most glamorous thing in the world." Dean gently smacked Sam's hand; Sam turned his head to glare at him.
"I agree." said Cas. "Gabriel has told me, on multiple occasions, that he wishes to be present during the birth. And I can guarantee you that, as angels, we have both seen far worse things than the birth of a child."
"Alright, fine. Whatever." Sam's breathing quickened as a contraction began to take hold. "Dean, can you do the honors?"
"Me? No way dude, you know how he feels about me. I think he's permanently tuned me out." he turned to Cas. "How 'bout you...? You're his brother, he's gotta listen to you."
Cas scoffed. "I wouldn't bet on it. But-"
"-Shit. Guys...?"
Sam was perched on the edge of the bed, breathing hard. Yellowish fluid, tinged with blood, stained the sheets between his legs and trickled onto the floor: his water had broken. He looked mortified. "Damn, I'm so sorry..."
"No big deal," Dean shook his head and reached for a towel. "let's get you cleaned up. Cas, you work on getting ahold of your brother." Cas nodded and turned away, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~
No sooner had Sam been cleaned up, than a rustle of wings heralded Gabriel's arrival. Dean and Cas turned toward the sound; the angel was disheveled, as though he'd dressed in a hurry. "Hey folks. Sorry I'm late, I got a little held up." he said distractedly. With barely a glance at Dean or Cas, he went straight to Sam and leaned over to kiss his forehead. Sam, knee-deep in a contraction, didn't respond. Not until he resurfaced did he even seem to remember that there were other people in the room; each contraction seemed to be drawing him deeper inside himself. He squinted at the face hovering above his own.
"...Gabe...?"
The angel smiled lopsidedly. "Hey, handsome." With some difficulty, Sam propped himself up on his elbows and kissed him. When he pulled away, however, he didn't meet Gabriel's eyes.
"I'm sorry, I look like such a fucking mess..."
"Don't even worry about it." Gabriel flapped one hand dismissively, still smiling. "You look good with your hair tied back."
"That's not what I meant-"
"I know what you meant. Like I said, don't worry about it."
Sam forced a smile. His hand skimmed across his belly; Gabriel's smaller hand joined it, tracing slowly up and down. Suddenly, Sam grew tense. One hand closed around Gabriel's while the other grasped at the sheets. A curse slipped past his clenched teeth as he gave in to the force of the contraction. The humming began again, sprouting somewhere deep in his chest and blossoming up into the back of his throat.
"That's my cue." Dean appeared at the foot of the bed, looking more than a little uncomfortable. "Heads up, Sammy, I gotta check your progress again." he bent Sam's knees so that his feet rested flat on the bed, and gently pushed his legs apart to see what was going on between them. After a few moments, he withdrew his hand and scrubbed at it with a towel. "Seven centimeters," he announced as his brother surfaced from the contraction. "Not much to do but wait, I guess."
Sam groaned. "You've gotta be kidding."
...And so they waited. Cas, unable to sit still, wandered aimlessly back and forth through the house until Bobby got mad and snapped at him. Sam passed the eight-centimer mark, then nine centimeters. The minutes ticked past: 9:30...10:00...10:30...Gabriel became very protective of Sam. In the lull between contractions, he had settled himself behind him, propped up on the headboard so that Sam could lean back against his chest. All his attention was focused on his boyfriend: as the transition phase hit and the contractions came in wave after wave, he held onto him, whispered comforting nonsense words as Sam shivered uncontrollably. Once or twice, Dean could've sworn he saw- out of the corner of his eye -a pair of tawny wings wrapped around his brother. Gabriel barely said a word to Dean, but whenever Dean approached Sam, to check his progress or give him some water, the angel stared at him with an intensity that reminded him strongly of an eagle watching its prey.
Throughout all of this, Sam seemed to be in a world of his own. He'd been quiet, more or less, for most of the day, but he was getting progressively more vocal as the contractions worsened. He groaned, cried, keened like his heart was breaking. When he opened his eyes, they looked right through Dean like he wasn't even there. Dean hated to see his little brother in pain like this, and it killed him that he couldn't do a damn thing about it. Once Sam hit the transition phase, he couldn't take it anymore. He left the room- feeling like an absolute coward -to stand in the hallway, taking deep breaths and willing his hands to stop shaking. Cas appeared at his side, looking equally uncomfortable; neither of them spoke. Instead they stood, Dean with his head on Cas' shoulder and Cas' arms looped around his waist. For a little while, it was peaceful...
...Then Gabriel's voice rang out. "Hey Dean? Dean-o??" there was a panicked edge to his voice that hadn't been there before. "I think it's time, you might wanna get back in here...!!"
Dean had never run so fast in his life. He burst back into the room to see Sam, wild-eyed, clinging to the edge of the bed. He turned and reached out to his brother, babbling his name. Dean caught his hand. "Hey, hey, shhh. I'm right here, Sammy, it's okay."
"Dean, it...fuck...it burns, I-"
"You need to push?"
"Yeah."
"Then let's get this show on the road." Dean said with false bravado. If there was one thing Hunting had taught him, it was how to act brave when he was scared shitless. Gabriel looked up at him with both excitement and terror in his face. He met the angel's eyes, just for a moment; they glinted like gold in the fluorescent light. Dean moved to the foot of the bed. His mind was racing, trying to remember what he'd learned from the online classes he and Sam had taken, all the videos they'd watched...none of those people had ever had to help their little brother through 10+ hours of labor.
Sam let out a growl. "Dean, I gotta-"
"Alright, remember what we practiced. Deep breath and push with the contraction."
Gabriel leaned forward to press a kiss to Sam's hair. "I gotcha, Samoose. You can do this." But Sam had retreated deep inside himself. His lanky body went rigid and he hissed as all his energy went into bearing down. Dean didn't want to look- there are certain things you don't ever want to know about your sibling -but he had to. He moved the blanket from Sam's legs and looked between them. As Sam pushed, he could just see a sliver of the baby's scalp slide forward. Then the contraction ebbed away and Sam went limp against Gabriel, and the sliver of scalp vanished. He could hear Gabriel whispering, and Sam gulping deep lungfuls of air.
"That was great, Sammy." he tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. "Wanna give it another try?" Sam was already pushing again, his face flushed red. The sliver of scalp inched forward...
"Again. You're doing good."
They continued like that for an hour or so, with Dean coaching Sam through the pushes and Gabriel offering encouragement. Then suddenly, in the middle of pushing, Sam stopped and let out a groan of exasperation. "This isn't working." he panted. "I need to move."
"You got it." Dean and Sam had learned long ago that there were times when they needed to just shut up and do what was required of them. This was one of those times. "What do you wanna do?"
Slowly, shakily, Sam maneuvered to the edge of the mattress. Tears welled from his clenched-shut eyes. "Ow, ow, ow, SHIT, ow..." With Dean and Gabriel's help he eased himself down into a low squat facing the bed. Gabriel sat cross-legged in front of him, holding his hands; Dean crouched behind him just as the next contraction started up. This time, when Sam bore down, the baby's scalp slid forward and stayed. Dean grinned.
"Good, Sammy, that's great! Do it again."
Sam pushed again and moaned, deep and guttural, as his opening stretched around the baby's head. His hands clutched at Gabriel's knees. He let out a sob when the contraction ended. "I can't, I can't, it hurts, I...I don't...can't...fucking shit..."
"Hey, none of that." Gabriel rubbed Sam's shoulders. "Just try to relax-"
"You fucking relax!" snapped Sam. "I hate you both."
"No you don't." Gabriel countered calmly. Sam's only response was a groan as he bore down.
"The head's out...!" Dean announced. He took a towel and wiped some of the blood and fluids from Sam's legs. "Push as hard as you can on the next one, okay?" ignoring the snarled response this earned him, he turned his attention back to what was going on down below. The baby's head slowly rotated as it emerged; he could hear his brother's hiss of discomfort. Sam paused for breath and bore down again. There was one shoulder, then the other; arms and a tiny torso slid free; then, with a rush of fluids and a yelp from Sam, Dean was holding a baby.
"Holy shit." he gasped. "Sammy, you did it...!" he turned the baby over. "It's a boy." he cleared the baby's nose and mouth, then held him up. Sam looked wearily at the little creature in his brother's arms; he smiled for a moment, then his expression turned to fear.
"...He's not crying." they locked eyes. "Dean, something's wrong, I don't think he's breathing. Shouldn't he be breathing by now?"
Dean looked down at the baby. It was still damp, pale purple, covered here and there with whitish vernix...and it looked about as lifeless as a doll. "...Sonofabitch." he grabbed another towel and vigorously rubbed the baby's back, its arms, its legs; nothing. Again, he cleared its nose and mouth; still nothing. Not knowing what else to do, he gently massaged the baby's tiny chest. "Breathebreathebreathe please breathe..."
Gabriel reached around Sam. "Move." he knocked Dean's hand away and replaced it with his own. "Come on, kid. Don't you dare quit on us." the room fell silent. Seconds passed, horribly slow.
Suddenly, there was movement- a squirm, a hiccup -and then a scream of tiny rage filled the room. The angel sat back and beamed. "Now that's more like it."
Sam scooped up his baby from Dean's arms and held him to his chest. His face was white as a sheet. "You gave us one hell of a scare, little guy." he said breathlessly.
"Yeah," Dean laughed. "Not even a minute old and he's already scared the daylights outta his parents. I like him." Sam and Gabriel glared at him.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~
A little while later, after Sam and the baby had been cleaned up and settled in the guest bed, Dean slipped away to look for Bobby and Cas. It was nearly midnight, and the house was cool and dark. Voices filtered through the quiet night air: Castiel's, unmistakably deep and gravelly, and the slight twang of Bobby's.
"...was a troublemaker as soon as he could walk."
"What about his brother?"
"Sam? He was a pretty quiet kid. Never cried much..."
Dean entered the main room to find them seated at the table, mugs of coffee in-hand. A floorboard squeaked under his feet and made both men jump.
"I assume Sam has given birth?" asked Cas.
"You assume correctly." Dean couldn't help but grin.
"And?" Bobby chimed in.
"It's a boy."
Bobby cheered. Cas simply smiled, as if he'd known all along.
"Wanna come meet him?" the words had barely left his mouth before Cas and Bobby leapt up from the table. Back they went to the guest room; Dean knocked on the door.
"What's the password?" Gabriel demanded from within.
"Can we come in?"
"...That'll do."
They filed into the room. Sam was sitting up in bed with Gabriel beside him, and both men were positively glowing. The baby, nestled in the crook of Sam's arm, was wide-awake, watching his new surroundings with milky-blue eyes. Sam scrunched up his long legs to make room for Dean and Cas; they sat down, one on either side of him, while Bobby stood at the head of the bed.
"How you feelin', "Papa"?" the old Hunter smiled.
"Mostly tired." Sam rasped. "Really tired. I'll probably feel it tomorrow, though..." the baby gurgled; he looked down at him and his face softened.
"He's a handsome little guy."
"Of course," said Gabriel, with no small amount of pride. "he takes after his dad."
"Which one?"
"Both of 'em."
Dean ignored him. Instead he looked at his brother, staring at the tiny newborn in his arms. He'd never seen Sam so exhausted- but he'd never seen him quite so happy, either. The guy was absolutely transfixed. He was drinking in every detail of his son, almost oblivious to the people around him. The baby seemed to be taking stock of him, as well- when he wasn't gazing around the room, he peered myopically up at his father's face. Gradually, Sam began to droop; his eyes grew heavy and a little unfocused. Gabriel quickly took notice.
"Hate to break up the party, guys," he said, standing up from the bed, "but Moose and Moose Jr. here need their beauty sleep. So, uh...shoo."
"You heard the man." Bobby agreed. "Let's give 'em some space."
One by one, saying their congratulations, Dean, Cas, and Bobby left the guest room. Dean was the last one out; he fussed over Sam and the baby until Gabriel all but pushed him to the door. But just as his hand touched the dorknob, Sam spoke up behind him.
"Dean...?"
He turned around. "Yeah?"
"...Thanks."
Dean smiled. "G'night, Sammy."
~** ☆☆☆ **~