Babies In The Bunker #5

The day dragged on by. Gabriel had now been an infant for a day and a half, and Sam was tired of it. Much like a regular child, he required feeding and comfort, and was in the very uncomfortable stage of teething. Thankfully, angels could eat practically anything, even with the absence of proper teeth. Despite this, Gabriel still had very distinct preferences about what he wanted—and that was little more than candy. So far, Dean had successfully managed to feed him two bags full of pink and white marshmallows, half a bag of white chocolate buttons, and half a punnet of candy floss. It was hardly healthy, but it was all that he seemed willing to munch on. And the consequence of trying to feed him something he didn’t want? He’d start screaming, naturally. Even little Kevin had started to recognise that his screams meant he wanted candy, and more often than not tried to resolve any bout of crying with shoving a marshmallow in his mouth. In that respect, the baby archangel was very easily catered for.

But unfortunately, it seemed, he was also in the early stages of growing feathers on his six stubby little wings. So far, they looked like chicken wings, but covered in a fine coating of light gold fluff. This, like teething, was an incredibly uncomfortable period of time, and he had no problems letting the entire bunker, and area surrounding the bunker, know that he was in immense discomfort.

Balthazar had agreed to stay during the period of time that Gabriel was this small—just as much for the benefit of the little archangel as the Winchesters and tiny prophet. Castiel was only other being present who could physically tolerate the screams, but had little to no experience with fledglings… and therefore little to no experience with how he was supposed to handle or console them when they were upset. So whenever Gabriel cried, it became Balthazar’s responsibility to console the little one. Most of the time, he was successful at it, calming Gabriel down to the point where he no longer cried.

This time was different. Gabriel, after somehow undoing the catch, had fallen out of his cot and started wailing as soon as he hit the floor. That was almost half an hour ago now, and Gabriel was refusing to stop crying, and nothing that Balthazar was doing made any difference to that whatsoever. This concerned the angel in question, because although he wasn’t the most experienced with fledglings—far from it, actually—but he had always managed to calm down an infant angel down before now. He began to wonder if it was something that was specific to archangels that was upsetting him, and therefore something he wouldn’t think to check. And if that was the case, it would need to be an archangel that he’d need to consult…

Swallowing, Balthazar muttered a call under his breath. He decided to call one of his elder brothers, an archangel, although he wasn’t entirely sure of how to explain the situation should he arrive. But considering that he was an archangel, who had undoubtedly helped to raise Gabriel the first time around, he would know what to do at this moment in time. The prayer had scarcely slipped past his lips when he sensed that he was no longer alone.

Turning around, he spotted the elder brother that he’d contacted. Lucifer stood there, looking somewhat confused at the fledgling in Balthazar’s arms. Wordlessly, he took the infant from his brother’s arms and started cooing softly, running cool fingers down between his stubby little wings. It took him a matter of seconds to decipher what the matter was, and with a soft popping sound and a quiet wail later, and Gabriel was calm again. Lucifer smiled softly, it having been a very long time– centuries, even –since he had held a fledgling in his arms, and had taken in the soft little smiles that often graced their delicate features. Looking back to Balthazar, his smile slowly faded.

“What did this to Gabriel?” he spoke shortly, somewhat accusingly.

Balthazar swallowed, looking back at his brother. “He somehow managed to undo the catch on his crib and fell from it, he’s been crying ever since.”

“I didn’t mean what dislocated his wing.” He corrected, a dark look in his ice blue eyes, “What turned my millennia’s year old sibling back into a fledgling?”

Lucifer’s tone was calm, but Balthazar knew that that wasn’t a good sign and  was potentially dangerous. The devil would not hesitate in taking his head if he thought that someone had hurt one of his siblings. Especially one of his fellow archangels.

“The Winchesters believe that it’s some kind of de-aging spell or curse that’s been affecting them for the past few days. It’s not permanent, it’s already affected both Winchesters and Castiel, and they are back to their usual selves now.” Balthazar cleared his throat again, answering a little shakily. It was the truth as he knew it, but he didn’t know if Lucifer would believe him. His mouth only grew drier at the thought of what the Morningstar might do if he thought that he was lying to him.

Lucifer raised his eyebrows at his brother before slowly looking back to the infant in his arms. It had been millennia since he had last held an infant archangel… and last time it had been Gabriel, considering that he was the youngest.

“And do they know the cause, or how to reverse it?” he replied in a sharp tone, gently tucking a couple of golden strands of hair off of the fledgling’s forehead.

Balthazar shook his head. “They remain uncertain. Sam believes that it’s a cursed item that he was filing away, but they don’t know. None of us have been able to identify the cause. Even Gabriel, apparently, before his transformation.”

With a sigh, Lucifer cradled Gabriel in the crook of his arm, looking back at the angel standing before him. He cocked his head to one side, seemingly studying his sibling for a moment. He took a couple of steps forward and closed his eyes, placing two fingers on the angel’s forehead as he read his thoughts. A few moments later –something that felt like hours to Balthazar – he removed them again, giving him a look full of regret. He knew that Balthazar was being honest with him and genuinely didn’t know. Which wasn’t helpful in the slightest, really, but left Balthazar able to breathe freely again with the knowledge that the Devil didn’t blame him for this.

With a slight grumble, Lucifer left his brother alone, searching for one of the Winchesters to demand an answer from.

***

Having gotten lost twice in the maze of passages and pathways in the bunker, Lucifer was finally able to find someone. He was able to find two someones, actually, although one of them didn’t exactly seem very conversational right now. Lucifer could recognise one of them immediately—his true vessel, Sam Winchester, was passed out on the kitchen table, using one of the bunker’s old lore books as a pillow. He looked curiously at the second person, however, his archangel instinct telling him that he needed to protect them. He glanced down at the two year old, sensing that this wasn’t just an ordinary child.

Lucifer quickly snapped up a travel cot and clipped Gabriel into it. He left the cot on the table as he proceeded  to crouch down in front of the toddler, cocking his head to one side.

“What’s your name?” he asked softly, blinking a couple of times. He was fairly certain he’d never met the child before, but something seemed familiar about him.

The two year old hesitated before he replied, looking strangely at the man in front of him.

“Me Kev’n.”

Lucifer cocked his head to one side in a way reminiscent of his brothers.

“What’s your last name?”

The toddler looked at him oddly. It looked, for a moment, that he’d go without a reply, but soon enough he gave a meek little reply.

“Twan.”

Lucifer paused, the name taking a few moments to register. What was it that made the child special? A part of him, locked away in some part of his celestial subconscious, told him that he had to protect the child at all costs. But why…?

When the name finally sunk in, it was obvious. Despite his hatred of humans, he was hardwired as an archangel to defend a prophet of the lord. But why was he so small? Prophets were never activated until a certain age, and that age was definitely not any time within infanthood…

His eyes fell to Gabriel again, snoozing lightly in the travel cot, and it suddenly made sense. If this cursed object had the sufficient power to successfully de-age an archangel, then a measly human would be no problem for it whatsoever. Recognising how vulnerable the prophet was, Lucifer slowly scooped the two year old into his arms. It felt peculiar, at first, knowing that this child wasn’t an angel but still cradling it in his arms. But after a few moments, some of the instincts from his vessel, Nick, started kicking in, making it a far less peculiar sensation.

His eyes flicked back to his true vessel, Sam, who was still using the old lore book as a pillow. He considered waking him up for a moment, going so far as to tap his shoulder. But the devil didn’t consider that he might get slapped by the toddler in his arms for doing such. He was a little taken aback for a moment, surprised by the sudden impact on his right cheek. He wasn’t hurt at all, just… a little stunned. Looking closely at the little prophet, he realised that it had been entirely accidental – he’d moved his hand in a negative motion and had just happened to hit the archangel’s cheek.

“Mo.” The toddler said firmly, “Sam sweepy.”

Lucifer remained taken aback for a moment. If this toddler were almost anyone else on the planet or in heaven, they would be dead right now. But, because Kevin Tran was Kevin Tran and therefore Lucifer was programmed to protect him, all the toddler gained was a dirty look.

“But I need to talk to Sam.” He pouted. This was ridiculous, really. He, the devil, was being ordered around by a two year old human that he could easily crush between his teeth. But here he was, doing as he was told. It was nothing short of embarrassing. Thank father none of his brothers could see this right now…

“Mo.” Kevin repeated, a stubborn little expression upon his features.

Lucifer rolled his eyes. Right, he couldn’t wake Sam if he wanted to keep the toddler happy. That wouldn’t be so bad if he knew where anyone was in this bunker, or knew his way around it either. He’d already gotten lost here twice, and he didn’t want to make it a third time. He sighed, deciding that he would interrogate the toddler for the whereabouts of the other Winchester.

“Then where is Dean? I need to talk to one of them.”

“Pala.” The little prophet replied, fiddling with one of the buttons on the jacket of Lucifer’s vessel.

Lucifer frowned for a moment, looking at the child.

“What is the ‘Pala’, and where is it? I need to talk to Dean.” Lucifer found his patience with this toddler growing thin.

“Deanie in the ‘pala, getting mashymallows!” Kevin repeated, getting tired of repeating himself.

Only then did Lucifer realise what Kevin was trying to tell him. Dean was in his car, the beloved impala, getting marshmallows. Presumably for Gabriel. Finally, something made sense!

“Well, let’s go find Dean then.” Lucifer put the toddler down and took his hand, using his other hand to pick up the travel cot containing Gabriel. But just as he was about to teleport away, the prophet complained.

“Mo! We stay wif Sammy! Sammy wiwl wowwy!” Kevin started protesting, pulling his hand free and sitting back at the table next to Sam.

“Kevin, no.” Lucifer’s patience had grown thin, “I can’t leave you alone with Sam because he’s sleeping. You need to come with me.”

“Mo!”

‘For father’s sake,’ Lucifer thought to himself, ‘this child is a handful.’

Thankfully, or so Lucifer thought, Kevin’s protests managed to wake up the sleeping Sam Winchester. He groggily looked up and over to the source of the protests that had woken him up.

“Kev… Kevin, what’s wrong?”

It wasn’t Kevin who replied, however.

“What happened to my brother?” a cold scowl spoke from across the room, instantly recognisable.

Sam instantly sat bolt upright, looking over at the devil stood on the other side of the kitchen.

“Lucifer? It was an accident, I swear, I’m just trying to work out what happened myself- ”

Sam was only then cut off by loud ripping and breaking noises, the shock of it causing Lucifer to fall over into the remains of the now-broken travel cot. And, of course consequently into the lap of the naked archangel Gabriel.

There was absolute silence for a few moments as everything sank in. Sam swiftly covered little Kevin’s eyes, but that changed to ears a split second later.

A baby angel was crying. And it wasn’t Gabriel, so that could only mean one thing…

Another angel had been de-aged.

Sam Winchester really hated his life sometimes.