The day started out like any normal one. Wake up, eat crappy diner food, drive to the next town, interview witnesses, research, more crappy food, and then bed. Only between the more crappy food part and the bed part things changed. Sam was taking one of his two hour long showers when the familiar flutter of wings was heard. Even with his eyes closed he knew that sound.
"Cas, man couldn't you just call or text before you pop in? You know I need my four hours." A green eye blinked open lazily before Dean let out a surprised gasp. He was bolting from the bed before he even knew what he was doing, rushing to his angel's side.
Castiel looked battered to say the least, his face was bloodied, white shirt soaked in it. His trench coat looked burnt around the edged. Dean had never seen Cas in this state, this broken. Worst of all was the sight of his wings, what Dean was sure would have been huge raven colored wings were they intact, hung limply chunks of feathers missing others bent at odd angles.
He carefully lead the angel to his bed forcing him to sit. "Cas, what happened buddy? Who did this to you?" he turned going far enough to grab the med kit from his duffle bag and a bottle of whiskey.
"My brothers, they found… found issue with my desire to be on Earth, with wanting to be with you." The angel ducked his head hiding his eyes.
"Alright, well I need you to get your shirt off so I can see what shape you're." Dean backed up just enough to let Cas shrug out of his clothes. "Once I get you patched up I'm going to hunt down every one of those junk-less asshats and remind them why no one hurts my family." This was mostly mumbled to himself.
It took him exactly five steps to get to the bathroom door and only a moment to yell to Sam to bring him a wet towel and a basin if they had one. Turning back towards his friend he had to fight back a gasp at the shape the angel was in. His chest was covered in deep cuts flowing blood with small bits of his grace showing between the torn flesh, ugly dark bruises starting to bloom across his stomach and arms.
By now Sam had joined them bringing towel and pulling his own med kit out. With that the two started patching the angel up, stitching the worst of the cuts and wrapping his ribs, Dean was sure some were cracked if not broken. Throughout the ordeal no one said a word and Dean avoided touching the drooping wings not sure where to begin.
"I'm gonna go rent another room, I'll let Cas take my bed tonight." Sam stated now fully dressed, he was half way out the door before Dean or Castiel even noticed it.
Dean carefully reached out, touching the closest wing as if it would break. He pulled his hand away quickly when he saw the angel flinch.
"Dean, you can… you can see my wings?"
"Why wouldn't I? They're right here, how can I fix them?" He's never been one for helping hurt animals, which had been Sam's thing but his bother acted as if he hadn't see the wings, could he have possibly missed them?
"You aren't supposed to see them, only… only certain beings can see them." He still kept his eyes down a slight smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. The pain was fading, his grace healing him like if should. He stretched his wings feeling the feathers shift as the skin knitted itself back together. Of course they would heal first; his wings were his greatest defense, allowing him to escape at a moment's notice.
"I'll mend now Dean, my grace is taking over. Thank you for everything." He allowed himself to look up not, meeting Dean's eyes. He leaned forward catching Dean by surprise with a quick kiss. When he leaned back his face was already healing making his smile look all the more lovely.
"They're right about a lot of things, my brothers, but they'll always be wrong about you."