Okay guys, I know I'm working on I Bring The Fire right now but this stupid plot bunny wouldn't get out of my head. Fair warning, I wrote this at about one, so please notify me of any mistakes you find :) This will be a short twoshot, Destiel only coming in in part two (though I guess you could read it into here, if you want.) This is reverse!verse au, so Angel!Dean and Hunter!Cas with his brother Jimmy. None of the angels in the original show were made humans here, it was just Sam/Dean and Cas who switched. Sam isn't really mentioned, to be honest.

So anyway, here is part one, sorry for the long A/N, please review, and enjoy :)

Part One

Castiel Novak was dozing against a book when the familiar sound of feathers broke into the motel room he and his brother shared. The hunter jolted awake immediately, Ruby's knife out and in his hand before his eyes were fully open.

"Woah, Cas, calm. It's just me."

"Dean?" Castiel looked up, bleary blue eyes peering along the leather-clad form of his angelic friend. Dean smiled down at him, his own green eyes catching seemingly non-existent light in the dimness of the room.

"Hey Cas. Let's go out." Cas blinked, two fingers brushed his forehead, and suddenly the two were sitting on the comfortable leather of Dean's favourite car - a 1967 Chevy Impala. The angel had his hands resting on the steering wheel but, oddly, it seemed more as though the car was guiding them, rather than his hands guiding the car.

Brushing off whatever-that-was, Castiel moved his gaze to the face of the angel beside him. "Uh, Dean?"

"Yeah, Cas?"

"Where are we?"

Dean smiled. "Look outside."

Cas did. Darkness greeted his eyes, and his brow furrowed as he turned back to his friend. "A highway?" He asked.

The angel laughed. "It doesn't matter."

It was quiet then, just breathing and engines and the ticking of some invisible clock.

Tick. Tock.

"Have I ever told you about Heaven?"

Castiel blinked at the abrupt question. "Uh, no. I guess not."

"Hmm." Dean pursed his lips.

Tick. Tock.

"I was pretty badass."

The statement tugged a startled laugh from the elder Novak's lips. "Seriously, Dean?"

"I'm not kidding!" The angel grinned, glancing at him, before smiling more softly and giving a sigh.

"Oh you should have seen me, Cas." Dean's eyes glazed over, his tone wistful. "'Should have seen my wings. They were beautiful, gold and bright and shining. White wings always were overrated."

Castiel looked down, suddenly sober. His long, dirt-covered fingers toyed absently with a tear in his grimy shirt.

Tick. Tock.

"Was it Hell?" He asked quietly.

Dean seemed to snap out of a daze and he tilted his head to his charge. "What?"

Some small part of Castiel wondered again where they were, as the angel next to him wasn't even pretending to drive now, and yet the familiar 1967 Chevy Impala beneath them rumbled on.

'Along the road to nowhere.'

"Your wings." The hunter said, not looking up. "Was it Hell that ruined them?"

Dean's ethereally green eyes were boring into him, he knew, but he didn't dare look up. Could it really have been his fault, that the magnificent creature next to him, wrapped in human flesh and leather and stubble, had lost the beauty in its wings?

"No." Suddenly Dean was there, in front of him, and weren't they in a car just a second ago? The angel grabbed onto his shoulders, fierce and good and righteous and falling, while the breeze whipped along the highway and ruffled Cas' already messy black hair. "It is not your fault, you hear me? You didn't even know we were going to break you out of the Pit, and even if you did you couldn't have stopped us. There is nothing you could have done. And really," The angel's brilliant eyes flashed down, and a ghost of a smile settled on his lips. "I wouldn't go back and change it. Not for anything."

It was the pure sincerity, the innocence in those eyes that really tugged the corners of Castiel's lips upwards, because how could something be so old and dangerous and yet so young at the same time?

"What are your wings like now?" The question came, unbidden to Castiel's lips and fell traitorously from his mouth. The hunter flushed, but Dean just smiled slightly - though was that a glimmer of sadness in his eyes? - and answered without hesitation.

"Black."

Tick. Tock.

Tremors ran through Dean's voice, though that might have been the rushing in Castiel's ears as his own blue gaze got caught with the angel's. "You could say scorched. My Grace healed them naturally a little, allowed them to keep their form, but..." He shrugged. "They aren't as pretty as they used to be, that's all. I'm not vain, no matter what Balthy says."

Cas has a second to think back to which of Dean's brothers was 'Balthy' before they are back in the Impala from before, settled on black leather while Dean's hands gripped the steering wheel - though they did not steer, of course.

Silence, but for the rumbling engine of the car and the persistent clock permeated the air, thick and bitter on Cas' tongue.

Tick. Tock.

"Sorry." He said, for the sake of saying anything.

"Don't worry about it." Dean smiled, for the sake of smiling at all.

And as they drove along that Little Road to Nowhere, for the first time in too-long-a-time, Castiel tasted air.