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“Hey, guys, I’m back!” You shouted as you carefully made your way down the stairs into the bunker, hands full with multiple bags of groceries. The food in the bunker had needed to be restocked, so you’d been out shopping throughout the morning. The Winchesters, along with newly humanized Castiel and prophet of the Lord Kevin, had stayed back to do more research on Abbadon, as well as look into a possible witch case in the town. The bunker was formidable, safe, and, frankly, awesome, which is why the scene you walked in on caught you off guard.

“How the hell did you get in here?!” You screeched, dropping the bags and lunging for the obvious witch standing above the unconscious bodies of Sam and Dean. Surprised at your sudden entrance, the witch shrieked just as loud as you quickly killed her, dropping and shattering a ceramic bowl full of ingredients. Panting once the deed was done, you said a quick prayer in hopes that she hadn’t been able to finish whatever spell she was working on.

Turning back around to inspect the damage on the brothers, you simultaneously gasped and cringed. The bodies of Sam and Dean were gone; their clothes in piles were all that remained. You fought back tears as you kneeled beside the piles, and looked up as a loud noise blared through the air.

Crying. That’s what the noise was.

A baby crying, specifically. Bewildered, you cautiously reached a hand out, only to flinch away as Dean’s clothes moved.

“Sammy!”

A small boy no older than four popped up out of Dean’s leather jacket, and he reached into the bundle formerly known as Sam. Out popped a wailing one year old, complete with tears, spit, and a snotty nose. The little boy – Dean, you guessed – pulled the wriggling baby into his lap and tried to sooth him.

“Mommy! Sammy’s crying!” Little Dean began shouting, only quieting when he noticed you.
“Who you? Where is my Mommy?”

With toddler Dean’s question, the realization that this was really happening finally hit you, as well as heartache. Dean didn’t seem to have any of his adult memories. How could you tell a four year old that both of his parents were dead? Thinking on your feet, you gave the best answer you could.

“Mommy and Daddy had to go away for a while. I’m your baby sitter, (NAME). You’re Dean, right?”

Even little Dean was overly paranoid, as he gave you a suspicious look.

“No remember Mommy leave. And me no know you,” he stated, gripping baby Sam tighter as he shifted him away from you.

“You were sleeping when they dropped you off; they didn’t want to wake you or your brother up. Why don’t you let me hold him so he’ll stop crying?” You held your arms out to take Sam, but Dean scooted further backwards away from you.

“Nuh-uh. You lying!” Sam’s wailing only increased with the tightness of his grip.

“Okay, fine. Don’t believe me. But I’m going to take care of you and Sam has to stop crying. Why don’t you go sit on the couch with him while I look for the other boys?” You suggested, gesturing towards the comfy couch in the living room of the bunker.

Dean looked at you warily for a second before practically dragging a too-heavy (and still bawling) Sam to the couch. He then proceeded to mumble a near wordless and horribly off key rendition of ‘Hey Jude’ to Sam, and you grinned before realizing that the witch was the cause of this. Who knew what happened to the others? If she cast the spell over the entire bunker, everyone who had been inside…

“Um, sit tight, okay, Dean? I’ll be right back,” you stated, leaving the room to dump the witch’s body before returning to search for your other friends.

“CASTIEL?! KEVIN?!” You screeched as you ran through the halls of the bunker.

Please don’t tell me they’re children, too…

Disappointment flooded you again as another wail answered you from Kevin’s room, but this time you found an actual infant in Kevin’s spot on his bed. Baby Kevin couldn’t have been any older than three months, and you carefully wrapped a t shirt around his bottom as a makeshift diaper before picking him up and bouncing him gently back and forth, calming him down.

“Um, hello,” a quiet voice stated from the doorway, and you turned around to see a five year old with incredibly messed up brown hair standing in the doorway. His head was tilted, expression confused, and he practically swam in the now giant trench coat and button up that darned his shoulders.

“Castiel! There you are,” you said in a cooing voice, so as not to upset baby Kevin again.
The little boy nodded.

“That is my name. Who are you? Why is this so big? What is this?” He asked question after question, ending with a tug on both his trench coat and his neck tie. You couldn't help the giggle that escaped at his adorable antics.

“What’s so funny?” He asked, his big blue eyes oozing with curiosity as he tilted his head again.

“Nothing, really. You’re just so cute. Here, let me help you, buddy,” you said, grinning, as you held Kevin in one arm and used the other to help slide the trench coat and neck tie off of Cas. His face turned pink at your comment, and he pulled the shirt down farther to cover himself up.

“My pants are too big. They fell off,” he mumbled, looking at the pants and undergarment wrapped around his ankles.

“That’s okay; your shirt is big enough to cover you. Just slip them off for now until I can find some that fit you better,” you said, walking out of the room. “Come on, buddy. I’ll be watching you guys for a little while.”

Castiel obediently followed you, and as you made your way back to Sam and Dean, he shyly took a hold of your free hand, face pink again. You smiled down at him and gave a gentle reassuring squeeze as you entered the living room once again.

“Don’t worry; you and Dean are gonna get along fine. But I need you to do me a favor, okay?”

Castiel nodded eagerly.

“If I lay Kevin down on a pillow on the floor, will you make sure he doesn’t get hurt? I think I have one more person I need to find…” you said, brow furrowing as you mentally cursed at yourself for forgetting about your ‘special guest.’ Castiel sat down carefully as you laid the now sleeping Kevin down, an (adorably) intense look of concentration on the former angel’s face.

“I will keep him safe!”

You smiled at him again, ruffled his hair, and told all of the boys to stay quiet. Dean simply glared at you and Castiel silently, and a now content baby Sam cooed and smiled at you as he pulled on Dean’s hair. As soon as you were out of sight, you shifted into a sprint as you ran down to the dungeon, where the boys had detained Crowley. At this point in time, you weren't sure if you’d rather him be a child or an adult.

Judging by the frantic crying and screaming echoing from the dungeon, Crowley had also been turned into a child. Quickly forcing your way into the room, you pulled him up out of the chair and sat back down on the floor, rocking him back and forth while murmuring soothing words to make him stop crying. After about ten minutes, his traumatized sobbing had subsided into occasional sniffs as he wiped his snot all over your shirt. Resisting the urge to vomit, you finally tried speaking to him.

“Are you okay now, Crowley?” Head resting against your chest, five-year-old Crowley nodded, clutching your shirt tightly in his hands.

“Okay, good. I’m not sure if you remember me or not, but I’m (NAME), and I’m gonna take care of you for a little while, okay?”

“Don’t ever leave me,” Crowley demanded, but his watery voice made it come out more pathetic than intimidating.

“I won’t, sweetie, but there are other boys I’m watching, too. I can’t just leave them upstairs, so you’re gonna have to come with me, okay?” You replied, rubbing his back soothingly. He may have been an evil King of Hell as an adult, but right now he was a scared little boy who woke up chained to a chair. You couldn’t be cruel to him.

“But I’m your favorite, right?” Crowley looked up at you, eyes still watery as you chuckled at the absurdity of the entire conversation. Adult Crowley would have gone on a rampage if he knew how he behaved as a child.

“I don’t have a favorite. I like you all equally.”

Immediately Crowley’s face shifted into a pout, and you laughed again as you stood and escorted him out of the dungeon. Unlike Castiel, Crowley seemed eager to show his affection for you, and had no qualms about holding your hand. He gripped your hand as he tottered behind you, looking around at his “new” surroundings.

His grip tightened as you walked into the room with the other boys, and he refused to let go or leave your side as you introduced them all to each other. Castiel’s eyes narrowed at Crowley, and Dean vocalized his feelings (“NO! Make him go away!”), but you told them all they had to get along and behave, emphasizing the good behavior part to Crowley.

Child or not, surely some demon instincts were dormant inside of him, as well as his adult mind. You knew you wouldn't be able to handle a demon child. In fact, you weren't sure if you could handle taking care of any of them, this thought spawning as Kevin began freaking out and crying again, which in turn scared Sam and caused him to start crying.

Not to mention the fact that you had nothing for children or babies around the bunker, and given that just about any supernatural creature (especially Abbadon) would love to get a hold of them while they were vulnerable, you couldn't just take them all out shopping.

You definitely couldn't do this alone. It was time to call in a favor.

After soothing Kevin and Sam and telling the other boys to be quiet, you slipped your cell phone out of your pocket.

“Hey, Charlie? I need to ask you a favor.”