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"He has to shut his eyes, Papa! Tell him he has to shut his eyes.” Jack says excitedly, trying to put his hands over Dean’s face.
Cas sighs, grabs Jack’s wrists so he’ll stop. “He doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to,” he says, all calm because he’s Cas, and then he turns to Dean. “Do you want to shut your eyes, Dean?”
Dean does. Today is the day he gets to see his little room for the first time, because, after 2 weeks of people coming and going and amazon deliveries and Cas being scammed out of his money, it’s finished. And Jack seems to be more excited than any of them.
So he shuts his eyes, and Dean feels Sam's hands on his shoulders to guide him and Jack's on his hips, practically pushing. He doesn't complain.
“Open ‘em! Gotta open your eyes now, De!” Jack tells him, sounding a little agitated, and Dean hears Cas gently telling Jack to calm down again.
Dean does open his eyes. He's face to face with a sign which reads ‘The little Dean cave’ on a wooden sign, like the words are burnt in. Part of him is embarrassed, but the larger, regressed part just feels happy and accepted.
Sam opens the door to the room and Dean's immediately overwhelmed. It's perfect. It's everything he ever imagined but it's way too much at the same time.
There's an adult sized crib in the corner of the room, pressed up against a wall. Dean knows that Garth made that because he came down for a few days with Donna and Jody Mills to help knock it together from scraps, because ordering real ones are really expensive. It's not exactly a crib, more just a bed with sides that go up and down.
Still, Dean thinks it looks perfect.
Next to that is a changing table, also wooden, up high with shelves built into the side, and Dean's not so happy about the hint that he needs diapers, but he doesn't comment.
Other than that, it's just the usual stuff. There's a rocking chair in the opposite corner to the bed and wall stickers of a tree and some cartoon animals on the wall behind.
One of the most exciting bits to Dean is the stuffed animals on the bed. The whole room has a bit of a blue theme to it, but the toys don't have any theme at all. There's Dean's stuffed dragon right in the middle of the mattress, but there's some that he hasn't seen before, too.
Wooden letters spelling out Dean's name on top of more boxes. A teepee set up next to the changing table. Books on a bookshelf right next to the rocking chair, a mat spread out on the floor with roads on, matchbox cars and plastic trucks laid out for Dean.
All for Dean.
He suddenly feels very enclosed.
Sam pulls him out of it. He can read Dean like clockwork because he always can, and he puts his hands under Dean's armpits and lifts him onto his hip with a grunt. Of course, Dean cooperates, legs around Sam's waist.
“All the toys in here are yours, okay? You don't have to share with Jack if you don't want to. It's your choice.” Sam says gently. “And you don't have to look at everything at once. It's not going anywhere.”
Jack runs over to the cabinet and points to a small aquarium next to the wooden letters of Dean's name. “I made you a fish, De! ‘s Dory. Daddy said you liked him.”
Sam carries Dean over to where Jack is, and Dean's eyes widen a little as he looks. It is Dory. Almost an exact replica of what he'd imagine the cartoon fish to look like, except it's got a spot of orange on the side where Jack must've gotten distracted.
“What do you say, Dean?” Sam prompts.
“Fanks.” Dean mumbles, a little embarrassed but equally very grateful.
Jack beams.
The rest of the afternoon is spent exploring Dean's little room. Cas and Jack come and go, mostly because the nephilim is so excited that he refuses to stay still for very long, but Sam stays right by Dean's side the whole time.
There's a smaller version of the Impala that Cas got made into a matchbox car. It stays in Dean's hand the whole day, and that night, he sleeps with it on the mattress beside him.
………………
One thing that they've found is that Dean regresses a lot easier in the evenings. After dinner, he's already tired, so he just curls up on the floor in front of the TV and that's it for the rest of the night. The lights are dimmed and it's quiet and Dean always has to fight to stay awake.
Tonight isn't very different from that. Having so many new toys is pretty overwhelming, so they're pacing Dean in what they play with each day. He likes that. He likes that Sam and Cas know exactly what he needs.
Dean's currently sat on the floor in the ‘Dean cave’ in between Sam's legs where he's sat on the couch. Some kids' shows are playing on the TV. Jack's fast asleep on a bean bag right near the screen, thumb tucked in his mouth. They're trying to wean him out of that habit.
Today, Dean's got his two new trucks in front of him on the floor. He's dressed in his new dinosaur pajamas. It's fun; having all this new stuff to play with.
Dean's got his cheek resting on the side of Sam's knee, almost completely out of it, only pushing his trucks back and forth on the floor. He's so tired that he barely takes note when he hears Castiel and Sam start talking.
“Is he still having bed wetting accidents?” Cas asks, his voice quiet so he doesn't disturb either Jack or Dean. Dean wriggles a little in spot at the thought of them. Much to Dean's surprise and dislike, he also wet himself in the day the other week when he was playing in the nursery. It's definitely getting worse.
That's why Sam sighs audibly when the topic is brought up. “Yeah. They're getting worse, I think. It happens almost every night when he's regressing.”
Dean yawns. Sam reaches to push a hand through Dean's hair, holding it off his forehead, slipping a pacifier between his lips. Unsurprisingly, Dean suckles on it needily.
“Maybe we should consider putting him in pull-ups.” Cas suggests. If Dean was more with it, he'd point blank refuse that idea. There's no way he's putting on a diaper like a real baby.
“I don't think he'd like that.” Sam says.
Castiel nods. He knows Dean. “We can't keep changing his sheets every night, Sam. It can't be comfortable for him.”
It isn't. Dean hates waking up wet and itchy and having to be changed. It makes him feel gross. Even Jack doesn't piss his bed much anymore.
“I dunno.” Sam says, sounding a little doubtful. “I can try and persuade Dean. You should order some in his size just in case.”
Dean decides he definitely doesn't like this conversation anymore, and he reaches up for Sam, wanting to be held. Carefully, Sam lifts Dean up off the floor with a grunt and holds him in his lap. Dean tucks his head under Sam's chin.
“Are you tired, honey bee?” Cas asks gently. Dean likes that nickname. He nods. “I think Jack is, too.”
Everyone looks over at where Jack's deep in sleep, sprawled over his bean bag, drooling on the floor.
“Yeah. Time for bed.” Sam says decisively. He gets up off the couch and scoops Dean into his arms properly, holding him against his chest. Even though Sam does this all the time now, it still shocks him that his brother's so strong. He turns to Cas. “Have you got Jack?”
Castiel does have Jack. That night, Dean doesn't piss the bed.
………………
“I just think they'd be good for you.” Sam reasons.
“Yeah, not happening.” Dean replies easily.
Because there's no way in the world his brother is convincing him to wear diapers, in his littlespace or not. That's not something that's on the table for Dean in either mindset.
Even if his accidents are getting more frequent.
It stresses him out a little, if he's honest. Cas helped Jack check Dean over the other day and, thankfully, it's not a medical issue, but that's even more scary in some ways. It means it's all in his head. Dean's wetting himself because he really thinks he's a little kid.
And that's not something he's ready to come to terms with. Especially not at 9 in the morning, eating breakfast next to Jack in the kitchen. The nephilim's a little older today, around 5, and he's happily swinging his legs under the table, watching a show on his tablet and paying no attention to the conversation whatsoever.
Which Dean's thankful for. Because Sam doesn't seem ready to give up.
“It's not healthy. I know you're getting a rash.”
Dean flushes a little, forks some of his bacon angrily. “How do you know that?”
Sam knows everything. He smiles, but it isn't harsh and teasing. More fond. “I changed you the other day when you were… y'know. Little. I know.”
Dean isn't even sure what he can counter that with. Beside him, Jack puts a bit of raw carrot in his mouth and grimaces. He slides the next strip under the table to Dean, who takes it, and, when Sam isn't looking, shoves it in his mouth.
For some godforsaken reason, Sam takes the pause while Dean's chewing as an invitation to continue. “You don't have to wear them forever. Just at night.” Sam tries. “Just to try them out. We're doing like, 3 washloads a day now.”
Dean knows that's an exaggeration, but he wrinkles his nose anyway. Another strip of raw carrot is slipped under the table into his hand.
“Maybe it's time you tried a full day of regression. It might be good for you.”
Now that's something Dean is interested in. Whenever he regresses, it's either just before he goes to sleep or he has to pull himself out of it to do something to do with hunting. It sounds good to have a day put aside where he can just… be.
So Dean nods and shrugs, just to make it seem like he's not that bothered about the idea. “Sure.” He says.
Sam seems to breathe a sigh of relief. “Okay.” A pause. “Please try the diaper thing, Dean.”
It's gotten to the point where Dean just wants Sam to shut up. He's done with this conversation and his bacon is going cold. It's safe to say Dean's not a fan of talking about his littlespace when he's out of it.
“Fine, Sammy, whatever.” Dean sighs. “But if they're horrible we're never talking about it again.”
Sam, of course, agrees. They decide to do his regression day two days from now, because they do have things with hunting they need to sort out and there's research to be done.
Honestly? Dean's not sure if he's excited or dreading it.