Hello! So I got this idea from actually listening to the Disney song, "When She Loved Me" -From Toy Story 2, I believe. This is a one-shot, which means, no chapters. (sorry) It is long for a one-shot I will tell you that, but I had tons of fun writing it and I hope you enjoy.
Reviews are welcomed and encouraged.
Soundtrack- "When She Loved Me"-Toy Story 2 OST
(or any disney song really.)
"Can You Feel The Love Tonight"-The Lion King OST
The Missing Connection
When the first Winchester baby was born, Castiel was assigned to be his guardian angel until his death. As usual, Castiel obeyed his orders and accepted the job. It didn't take long for Castiel to fly himself straight into the Winchester household where he found a beautiful blonde woman who he immediately knew as Mary Winchester. Next to her was a handsome man by the name of John Winchester.
They both stood over a baby crib, smiling and making goo-goo faces, where Castiel's charge resided. Castiel slowly stepped over to the crib, peering into it and saw yet another beautiful face and the soul was absolutely magnificent.
Dean Winchester.
Castiel smiled as the baby boy looked up at him with big, curious, green eyes. Dean was already a year old because before Castiel could begin this job he had to wait exactly one earth year. He didn't really understand why he had to wait a year before he could start, but it was part of the Guardian Angel job, so he had waited without question.
Dean giggled and stretched one of his tiny arms up toward Castiel who just lightly touched the boy's hand. When their hands made contact, Dean's baby face lit up like a light and he started giggling and making incoherent noises.
"My, my, what's gotten into you?" Mary asked, with a sweet smile, "You sure are happy, aren't you, Dean?" She reached down and gently pat her child's head.
"Come on, we should get to bed." John suggested, kissing Mary lightly on the cheek.
Mary nodded and then whispered, "Goodnight Dean. I love you." Before she left the room with her husband, she bent over the crib and lightly kissed Dean on his forehead, "Angels are watching over you."
The light flicked off and then Mary and John were gone. Castiel heard them enter their own bedroom and then looked down at Dean who looked like he was starting to get sleepy.
"Hello Dean." Castiel said as the baby closed his big, green eyes and began to sleep.
During the next few years, Castiel witnessed Dean grow progressively. He watched as Dean learned to crawl, then walk and even say his first few words. A few months after Dean turned 4, Mary seemed to have some exciting news.
It was on a sunny afternoon. Mary was in a particular happy mood, one that even Castiel knew was too happy for her, but he ignored it and watched Dean color on a piece of white paper at the kitchen table. At around 5:00 p.m., John came waltzing through the door, announcing he was home. Castiel sensed Mary's excitement increase and squinted his eyes as John came through the kitchen door.
"Daddy!" Dean exclaimed, abandoning his drawing on the table and running over to hug his father.
"Hey there big boy. How are you?" John picked up Dean, giving him a great big hug.
"Good." Dean giggled as he hugged his dad back. He was set down a moment later and then was returning back to the kitchen table where he continued his drawing.
John approached Mary, hugging her from behind and kissing her tenderly. Castiel smiled a little, feeling the warmth of their love pour over the room. They spoke soft words to each other, so Castiel gave them some privacy and returned to watching Dean finish his drawing.
A minute or so later, John came up next to Dean and squat down, so he was about eye level with the kitchen table. "Hey whatcha drawing there bud?"
"My friend." Dean replied simply, focused on the paper in front of him.
"Friend?" John glanced back at Mary, but she just shrugged and smiled, "What friend?"
"His name is...um...Ca-Cas-ti-Casti-el...Castiel..."
Castiel shifted his weight onto his other foot, surprise gracing his features. He hadn't expected that.
"Castiel, huh? Where did you meet this, um, Castiel?" John asked, trying to look at the unfinished drawing.
Dean stopped coloring for a moment before saying, "I don't...know. He was jut...there?" Dean looked at his father before resuming his coloring.
John frowned. Mary chuckled and asked, "What does Castiel look like, honey?"
"He's really tall and has dark brown hair and..." Dean paused as if thinking, "he has blue eyes, like, really blue," Dean's own eyes widened as he said it, "Oh and he wears a coat, like this-" Dean lifted his drawing up off the table and showed Mary. On the piece of paper was a poorly drawn version of Castiel.
The angel looked at it and smiled a little.
"Wow." Mary and John exchanged a glance "That's beautiful, baby."
"Dean, where is this...Castiel now?" John questioned, staring at the drawing.
Dean glanced around the room until he spotted Castiel standing perfectly still near the kitchen door. He smiled and Castiel returned the smile, nodding his head at the young boy.
"Over there." Dean pointed in the direction where Castiel was.
Mary and John looked simultaneously, but saw no one. The two exchanged another glance before Mary said, "Well, I think this drawing his fridge worthy." She plucked the piece of paper up from the table and put it up under a magnet on the fridge, "There." She smiled, kissing Dean on the top of his head.
Later at dinnertime, the three Winchesters sat at the table, munching down on some cooked chicken when Mary said, "I have an announcement to make." Both Dean and John looked up from their food. John gave her a puzzled look, "We are no longer going to be a family of three...but now four."
It seemed to take a second for that information to process in John's mind and when it finally did, he leaped up from his chair and grabbed Mary, pulling her into a hug.
"Oh my god. Really?" John kept saying over and over again. Dean frowned, clearly not understanding what exactly was going on, so Castiel stepped up next to him and whispered,
"A brother, Dean."
"Huh?" Dean looked up at Castiel from his seat at the table.
"You're going to be a big brother."
Dean's beautiful green eyes widened and he gasped, "Are you serious?!"
Castiel grinned and nodded.
"No way!" Dean smiled, big and wide, "Wow..."
At around 10:00 p.m. Dean was put to bed with a nightlight switched on near his bed.
"Goodnight, Dean. I love you." Mary said as she tucked her son in. Before she left, she whispered, "Angels are watching over you."
"Love you too, mommy." Dean said quickly just before she shut the door.
The room went completely dark, except for the glow of the tiny nightlight. Dean waited until the hallway light went off before he sat up and whispered, "Castial-el?" He corrected himself, calling out to the angel.
Castiel's ears perked up at the sound of his name and he quickly flew himself into Dean's room, landing softly in the corner of his room.
"Castiel are you there?" Dean whispered.
Castiel frowned as he watched Dean lean over the side of his bed and chuck under it. "Cas?"
"Hello Dean." Castiel stepped out of the shadows. Dean popped up like a Meerkat and smiled, jumping off his bed and rushing over towards the Angel, "Shouldn't you be asleep?"
"Yes, but I wanted to see you."
Cas felt his grace twitch at the warmth radiating from the boy in front of him. He bent down, so he was eye level with Dean and smiled a little. "How are you?"
"I'm good." Dean replied, rocking back and forth on his tiny feet.
Cas nodded, "You really should get to bed."
A pout made itself evident on Dean's face as he said, "Okay...but can you do...the thing again?"
The corners of Castiel's mouth twitched, but merely nodded.
"Yes!" Dean bounced up and down excitedly, "Do it!"
Castiel stood to his full height and closed his eyes, focusing as his grace swirled around his body happily. A few seconds later he opened them and behind him, he felt his feathers brush against his face. Dean's eyes widened all the way and he reached up, gripping the longest, black feathers gently.
"Soft..." Dean mumbled and Castiel bent down again, so he could get a better feel.
The black feathers glinted blue in the moonlight flowing through the cracks in the blinds and Dean stared at them, mesmerizer. He glanced at Cas, their eyes meeting, glowing blue ones against bright green ones. Castiel let Dean feel his wings for a little bit before Dean began to yawn.
"Time for bed?" Cas cocked his head to the side and Dean nodded, rubbing his eyes.
The young boy got back into his bed and snuggled up under his covers. "'night, Cas..." He mumbled.
Castiel pulled the covers up more around Dean and whispered, "Goodnight Dean." He let his feathers caress Dean's cheek, lulling him into sweet dreams.
At around 3:00 in the morning, Castiel was still standing beside Dean's bed, watching as the young boy slept peacefully when he felt another presence in the room and stood up a bit straighter.
"Hello brother." Castiel said, quietly.
"Castiel." The other angel acknowledged.
"What are you doing here, Gabriel?" Castiel questioned, as the archangel stepped out of the shadows.
"I came with news." Gabriel smirked, "And, I see you still got that stick up your ass."
Cas sighed, his brother's vulgarity never ceased to amaze him.
"Hopefully, this job will loosen you up a bit, huh?" Gabriel stepped up next to Castiel, eyeing Dean in his bed. Castiel stayed quiet, "Well, I'm sure you already know a second Winchester is on the way, right?"
Castiel nodded, "Another boy, yes."
"Yeah...I came to tell you that your Guardian job is going to be extended."
At that, Castiel frowned, looking at his older brother now, "What?"
"Yup, seems like daddy-o wants you to keep an eye on the munchkin coming up next as well." Gabriel crossed his arms.
"Are you sure?" Castiel blinked, "That's what father told you?"
Gabriel nodded, "Double Guardian Duty. The big DGD."
Castiel stood there, stunned in silence.
"Well, I gotta fly. Still have stuff to do. Have fun with your new charge along with...this one." He gestured to Dean and then with small gust of air, Gabriel was gone.
Castiel blinked before regaining his posture and sighed contently.
The next few months were full of 'Congratulations!' and Mary continuing to get more of a stomach on her. Everything seemed to be going just smoothly and then on May 2nd Sam Winchester was born.
Castiel felt the new addition immediately after it happened. An hour or so earlier John had called a babysitter and then rushed Mary to the hospital, so Castiel was in Dean's room again with Dean playing with some toys on the ground. The babysitter was downstairs fast asleep on the couch.
"I don't know why they called a babysitter." Dean mumbled, grumpily, "You can just watch me."
Castiel shrugged, standing in his corner.
"Are you excited to have a brother, Dean?" Castiel asked and Dean's head shot up to look at him.
"I sure am!" He said, happily, "I wonder what his name will be..."
A few days later, Mary came home from the hospital with a newborn baby boy in her arms and as soon as she stepped into the door way, Dean was bouncing up and down, eager to look at his new sibling.
"Shhh, Dean...he's sleeping." Mary said, quietly.
"Sorry mommy," Dean whispered, smiling.
Castiel saw the new born baby and blinked as something caused an uneasy wave of nausea to wash over him and he covered his mouth. Dean glanced at Castiel and frowned as he saw the sick expression crossing his friend's face.
"Cas, are you okay?" Dean asked and Castiel quickly nodded, straightening himself. Castiel sensed Dean's worry and soothed him with a, "I'm okay."
"Son, who...um...who are you talking to?" John asked, bending down to his eldest son's height.
"Cas." Dean responded, "You know...my friend." He pointed at the fridge where his drawing of Cas still hung.
"O...kay, well Dean would you like to meet your new brother, Sam?" Mary butt in, showing Dean his baby brother's face.
Dean's green eyes widened, "Hiya Sammy, I'm Dean. Your big brother." He smiled.
Sam slept soundly as Dean continued to talk to him.
Later that night, as Dean slept in his bed with Sam's room right next to his, Castiel over heard Mary and John arguing.
"I think this is serious, Mary." John was saying.
"What? So, Dean has an imaginary friend? So what. I don't see what the big deal is." Mary retorted.
John sighed, "I don't know, I mean...he drew a fucking picture of the...his...'imaginary friend'. He told us exactly how he looked. How does that not sound weird to you? He even pointed out where he was!"
"I don't know. I mean you know how kids are. They make stuff up all the time."
"I think we should make him see a therapist."
"Are you serious? He's 4, John!" Mary's voice rose a little.
"Well..." John sighed again and that seemed to be the end of the conversation.
The next few months went just as smoothly as the rest had been leading up to Sam's birth, but each time Castiel laid his eyes upon the newborn baby, a sickening feeling washed over him. He didn't know what it was. He could feel something was wrong. Something...Something was going to happen...he just didn't know what. He tried to brush it off several times, but it was like something kept nagging at him to stay on guard at all times, so he tried the best he could without raising any suspicion with Dean.
"Hey, Dean..." Mary greeted her son as she and sat next to him on the living room floor. Dean was busy watching cartoons while Sam was taking his afternoon nap.
"Hi, mommy." He said back without looking at her.
"I have a present for you." Mary smiled as her eldest son looked at her with wide, green eyes.
"What is it?" Dean asked, curiously.
"Here." Mary handed him a small box wrapped with wrapping paper, "Open it."
Dean nodded, taking the box and neatly ripping the paper off it. Castiel watched with slight interest as Dean finally pulled the lid off the box and pulled out a small plush toy. Dean gasped, "It's-"
"Castiel, that's right." Mary grinned, as Dean's face lit up with a smile, "I used your picture as a reference to make him. I hope you like it."
"I love it, mommy! Thanks!" He hugged the plush Cas and looked over at Castiel, who was standing against the wall near the television, "Look Cas!" Dean showed the angel the plush toy of himself and Castiel blinked, surprised, "It's you!" Dean chuckled and turned back to his mother, who was just staring, questioningly at him.
"Thank you." Dean said again and gave his mother a big hug.
It was November 2, 1983 when it happened. 6 months after Sam was born. It had been late at night and Castiel had heard Mary get up from her bed to check on Sam, he thought nothing of it, because this type of activity was normal and then heard her walk downstairs before running back up and screaming. Castiel looked at Dean's closed door and suddenly smelled the smoke.
Everything happened so fast. Before Castiel could do anyting, the house was being engulfed in the flames of a fire burning hot and dangerous. Dean was immediately awake moments after he heard his mother screaming and a terrified expression came over his face as Castiel pushed himself into motion. He grabbed Dean as he heard John screaming now and calling out to Dean.
"Daddy!" Dean cried, tears welling in his eyes as he shoved Castiel away from him and ran out his door.
"Dean!" Castiel called out, running after the boy, only to be stopped short when the scorching flames licked at his wings. He winced at the burning pain when he saw Dean holding Sammy and was running down the stairs. Castiel didn't think twice when the roof above the two young boys caved in and suddenly came crashing down. He heard Dean scream and felt the burnt wood against his back. Castiel slowly opened his eyes and met terrified, tear-filled green ones and shoved the part of the roof, that crashed onto him instead of Dean, off of himself and grabbed Dean's shoulder, flying him out of the burning house and standing safely on the lawn outside.
He flared his dark wings out and shielded Sam and Dean from the house. Dean had a horrified-tear streaked face and was staring at the burning house.
"Cas, you have to go get mommy, and daddy! They're still in there, Cas please, you have to go back for them!" Dean was looking at Cas now with eyes pleading with tears.
"I can't, Dean!" Castiel said sternly as he glanced back at the house, the flames growing higher and higher with sirens evident in the distance.
"What do you mean you can't!?" Dean cried out, tears falling from his eyes, "Mommy! Daddy!" He cried out, loudly just as John burst out of the scorched house, coughing and running toward his two sons.
"Dean!" John called.
"Daddy!" Dean called out, pushing Cas aside the best he could and running toward his dad.
John grabbed his two sons, gently cradling Sam in his arms and kissing Dean's head as the firetruck showed up.
What happened next was just a blur of lights and shouting and it wasn't long before the fire was completely put out. Dean was sitting next to his father, who was holding Sam, on the back of an ambulance truck with orange blankets wrapped loosely around them.
"Daddy," Dean sniffed, "Where's mommy?"
John didn't answer, he just looked at the house with a blank expression.
An hour or two floated by and John was taken away out of earshot of Dean by some firemen and that gave Castiel a chance to approach him.
"Dean?" Castiel said, slowly walking up to the young boy.
"Hi, Cas..." Dean whispered, not looking at the angel.
"Are you okay?" Cas asked.
Dean was silent when John suddenly plopped back down next to his eldest son with tears welled in his eyes. Castiel's eyes widened because he knew.
Mary Winchester was dead.
Since their house was completely ruined, with only a few things being saved which were, a children's book, Dean's hand drawn picture of Cas, Sam's plush moose, a few of John and Dean's clothes and Dean's plush of Cas, they had to temporarily stay in a nice motel just a few blocks away.
It was a sad Sunday afternoon with dull, gray clouds. There were a lot of people in black, standing before an empty grave. Since Mary had died in the fire, there was no body to bury, but only a headstone that read her name. After a few moments the people dispersed and the only one left standing at the grave was 4 year old, Dean Winchester. Tears were dripping down his face and Castiel felt his grace ache with the sadness radiating from the small boy's body.
"Dean..." He mumbled, coming up behind the child.
Dean didn't respond, so Cas bent to his height and lightly touched Dean's shoulder when Dean suddenly whirled around, slapping Castiel's hand away from him. Castiel blinked, his heart shattering at the expression evident on the boy's face.
"Don't. Touch. Me..." He hissed, but the last word was broke on a tiny sob.
"Dean-"
"No!" Dean shouted, "This...this is your fault! You...you could have saved her, but you...you didn't you...you said you wouldn't and, and, and..." Dean burst into tears and he covered his eyes, sobbing into his hands.
Castiel fell silent. He wanted to show Dean affection, but he didn't how. How did humans comfort one another? He didn't know, so he just settled with a, "I'm sorry, Dean."
Dean's sadness quickly turned into anger and Cas felt it just as the little boy shoved him, "I hate you!" He shouted in Castiel's face and turned, running back toward his father.
For the next month, Dean didn't acknowledge Castiel's presence. Every time Castiel tried to talk to Dean, Dean just turned away or left the room, so Cas just complied and just silently followed the boy wherever he went.
It was on a Tuesday night when Dean finally spoke to Castiel after months of ignoring him. John was passed out on the couch of some motel, drunk off beer and Dean was lying on his side, his back facing Castiel, who stood against the wall.
"My dad says you aren't real." It was said out loud and just barely above a whisper, "He says you're just something I made up."
Castiel was surprised at first, but quickly recovered and said, "I know."
Dean was quiet for a long moment and Cas thought he might have fallen asleep was it not for him turning and facing the angel. Cas looked Dean in the eyes, blue crashing against green.
"How come my dad can't see you?" Dean asked, messing with the comforter on the bed.
"He doesn't believe in what I am." Cas said, simply, keeping it brief.
"And I do?" Dean frowned, looking away now. Cas shrugged. It was quiet again for a long moment before Dean asked, "What happens if I stop believing in you?"
Cas felt his eyes widen a little and his grace ran cold within him, "I guess-" He cleared his throat, "I disappear." Even though that wasn't what would exactly happen, it was somewhat the truth. Castiel would always be there, only Dean wouldn't be able to see him anymore.
"Why couldn't...mom see you?" Dean questioned, slowly.
"She probably could have, if I had let her." Cas explained, an uncomfortable feeling settling in his stomach, "But I wasn't allowed."
Dean was, again, quiet and Cas looked at him to find the boy had shut his eyes and was now attempting to sleep. Cas took in a deep breath and watched as the long night rolled out.
Castiel figured out, after 3 weeks of trying to talk to Dean, that the now 5 year old boy no longer believed in angels and therefore could no longer see or speak to him.
Castiel became very lonely after that, but then again he was use to the emotion because he was, after all, the Angel of Solitude.
So, the years went by, Dean grew older and changed dramatically. Sam grew up as well, but Castiel stayed the same, watching over the two Winchester brothers, like he was suppose to. It was on a Friday when the two brothers, now in their early twenties, found out their father passed away. They were given a box with some of John's belongings in them by a lady at the funeral home.
"What do you think is in it?" Sam questioned on their way to go grab themselves some dinner.
Dean shrugged, his fingers drumming lightly against the steering wheel to the beat of the song coming through the radio. "Probably just junk."
Sam frowned, glancing back at the box in the back seat, reading the words
Special
Fragile
Handle With Care
In messy, black sharpie handwriting.
"I didn't think Dad kept anything 'special'." Sam said using finger quotations. Dean just shrugged again when they pulled up to a small diner.
"We'll check it out when we get back to the hotel, but for now. Food." Dean said, killing the engine.
The two brothers stepped into the diner, the smell of coffee beans, pancakes, and other delicious foods, hitting their noses. Dean 'Mmmed' and quickly found them a booth and in no time a grouchy waitress came, took their orders, and had their desired food out to them in a matter of minutes.
They began scarfing down their food, enjoying the tastes on their tongues. Dean was just about to take a sip of his soda he ordered when Sam asked, "How did mom die?"
Dean stopped, setting his drink down and frowning a little. He hated it when Sam mentioned their mom. It was such a painful memory for him. He closed his eyes briefly before saying, "You already know how."
"I know, but...don't you find it weird?" Sam played around with the salad pieces on his plate. Dean glanced up at him, seeing his brother's expression of doubt. Dean sighed, waiting for Sam to continue as he took a sip of his soda.
"You said, that a fire started in my room, right?"
Dean grumpily huffed out a yes.
"How did the fire start?"
This made Dean stop eating again. He'd never thought about that.
"I mean, I was what, 6 months old? How does a fire start in a 6 month old baby's room? I mean, Dean, it's weird. It's just...I don't understand." Sam shook his head, setting his fork down, feeling frustrated.
Dean was silent for a moment. Sam had a point. A very good point, but...he didn't have an answer. "I don't know Sam, I've honestly never thought about that. Hell, I don't even remember how I got out of that house." Dean glanced out the large window they sat next to.
Sam frowned, "What do you mean?"
"I mean, all I remember were the flames, there was so much heat and it burned, but I never felt any pain." Dean licked his lips, a weird feeling washing over him, "Sometimes I think that something got us out, but..." He trailed off,
Sam stared at him, his hazel eyes blinking with curiosity.
"I don't know." Dean turned to look at his brother, "I honestly don't know how the hell I survived that night."
Sam took in a deep breath as he glanced away, trying to understand how Dean was feeling. "Dean-"
"Hey, eat up. I wanna get back to the motel." Dean demanded, scarfing down some more french fries as Sam nodded and continued eating his salad.
When they got back to the motel, Dean hauled their Dad's box of leftover items into their motel room, placing it on the bed before getting himself comfy and then looking over at Sam, expectantly. Sam shrugged, and pulled out a knife, cutting open the box as Dean stepped closer, peering into it.
Inside there were tons of small belongings like, switchblades, journals, rosaries, two golden rings-
"Holy shit." Dean muttered, reaching down into the box and pulling out a stack of papers with weird markings on them and languages he didn't understand.
"What is all this stuff?" Sam asked, his eyes widening as he grabbed one of the journals and flipped through it.
"I have no idea." Dean responded as he looked through the papers he held until he came to a very old one that was all crumbled up and torn on the edges. His emerald eyes widened as he recognized the picture.
"What's that?" Sam question, a distasteful expression crossing his face.
"A drawing."
"Of what?"
Dean frowned. "I don't know..."
"It looks like some kind of man." Sam commented before looking away and digging through the box again and pulling out a plush moose.
Dean blinked several times. He knows this. Who is this in the picture? And why does he look so familiar? His head spun for a second and he had to take a seat next the box.
"Hey look at this!" Sam exclaimed, pulling Dean away from the poorly-drawn picture. Sam held up a small plush, about the size of the moose he held in the other hand, of what looked to be the same man on the picture.
"Hey, that use to be mine." Suddenly feeling possessive of the stuffed toy, Dean snatched it away from Sam.
"It's cute." Sam commented.
"Yeah.." Dean mumbled, stroking his thumb across the ratted toy. It was slightly dirty and was also missing a pale blue button eye, but Dean couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity between him and the object.
For the meantime he set the plush down on the motel nightstand and helped Sam finish going through the box until it was around 9:30 pm.
They crawled into bed at around 10 o'clock and said their good nights to each other and in a few minutes, Dean heard the familiar sounds of his brother's light snoring. He smiled a little and turned over, facing the nightstand where the strange plush toy sat, staring at him with it's one blue eye. He stared back at it as a memory of his mother giving him it as a gift played in his mind. He bit his bottom lip and closed his tired eyes, willing to go to sleep.
For several minutes, Dean laid there with his eyes closed, but sleep refused to come. He kept having the nagging feeling that there was something missing. Something that had been missing for a long time now. Almost as if it were a piece of him that he'd forgotten about. Frustrated, he sat up and glared daggers at the small toy.
"What the hell." Dean muttered, running his hands down his face. He was exhausted and wanted to sleep, but why wouldn't his mind allow him to sleep?
Little did he know, in the shadowy corner of the motel, Castiel stood with his hands placed behind his back. He watched Dean, carefully, with longing, ocean eyes. He missed Dean so much. As an angel, he never knew the frustration that came with seeing someone every second of the day and not being able to speak or touch them until now.
He shifted his weight onto his other foot and watched in silence as Dean got out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Dean was restless, Castiel knew. He could feel it himself, just as the other could. Castiel could feel most of Dean's emotions, which was odd since the eldest Winchester always kept his emotions in check, never letting too much show, but he couldn't hide them from Castiel.
Dean emerged from the bathroom a few seconds later and climbed back into his bed, sighing loudly. The corners of Castiel's mouth turned down just a fraction. He longed to lightly brush his fingers through Dean's sandy, brown hair as he use to do when coaxing him to sleep when he was a young boy.
He longed to have Dean's blazing, green eyes stare into his own blue ones. He longed for the feeling of Dean's fingers sliding through his feathers and he longed to see that beautiful smile of his directed towards him.
Castiel didn't realize he closed his eyes until Dean startled him slightly by sniffling. He looked up and saw Dean with his head hung and the back of his hand pressed to his face. He heard him sniffle again and felt an aching pang of sorrow jolt his grace.
Dean was crying.
Castiel swallowed, his hands longing to reach out and hug the young man just a mere foot in front of him. His grace restlessly swirled inside him and he clenched his teeth. He could do absolutely nothing to comfort Dean. It made him feel like a failure. This was why Castiel had never wanted Guardian Duty in the first place. He knew the angels assigned to it, always got attached to their charges and from then on it was just a downward slope of pain, sorrow and maybe a glint of happiness, but that was rare.
He clenched his fist, his nails digging into the palms of his hands. He hated not being able to do anything. It hurt him emotionally and that was worse than any physical pain Castiel's ever felt.
Dean was crying silently, so Sam wouldn't wake up, and when he finally lifted his head, the tear streaked face reminded Castiel so much of the one he saw on the night he saved Dean from the fire. It ripped his heart in half to witness that same expression again. Dean didn't deserve to feel any pain or sorrow. It just wasn't right.
Castiel was so busy, trying to handle the overwhelming emotion of sorrow spilling over the room that he barely heard Dean whisper, "Oh god..."
Dean covered his mouth in disbelief, glancing at the stuffed toy next to his bed. He remembered. He knew who this was. A memory made itself evident in Dean's mind as he recalled seeing dark wings, beautiful, dark wings. He knew who this was.
"No..." Dean muttered, shaking his head as tears slid silently down his cheeks, "It can't be..."
He swallowed, "Castiel."
Castiel's head shot up as he gasped at the sudden sound of his name being said. He looked toward Dean.
"No...No..." Dean mumbled over and over again, "But, he was just...an...imaginary friend..."
He grabbed the toy, wiping his eyes and stared at it.
"It's-"
"Castiel, that's right." Mary grinned, as Dean's face lit up with a smile, "I used your picture as a reference to make him. I hope you like it."
"I love it, mommy! Thanks!" He hugged the plush Cas and looked over at Castiel, who was standing against the wall near the television, "Look Cas!" Dean showed the angel the plush toy of himself and Castiel blinked, surprised, "It's you!" Dean chuckled and turned back to his mother, who was just staring questioningly at him.
The memory hit him like a brick and he was gasping. "No, no...you...you weren't..." Dean looked up frantically. "How...how could..." He trailed off. Where was Cas now?
He gulped as he felt something heavy settle in his chest. He tried to remember why he couldn't see Castiel anymore. He couldn't remember though. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to think. He did something, but he couldn't quite place his finger on it. What did he do? He did something that made Castiel go away for good and that's when he recalled the night when he was five. He had a conversation with Cas and he remembered him saying something like believing in him. Dean kept his eyes shut and suddenly felt himself willing to believe.
He stayed like that for a while before opening his eyes and scanning the room. Disappointment fell heavy upon him as he was met with an empty room, besides Sam.
Three days passed and Dean was starting to feel ridiculously stupid. Maybe Castiel really was just something he imagined. If he wasn't, wouldn't he have seen him by now? Dean knew his belief was strong at the moment, but could feel it fading with each day that passed upon his remembrance of Cas. So, on the fourth night, Dean laid on his back on the not-so-comfy motel bed, staring up at the white ceiling with a frown. His mind wouldn't let him sleep and even when he did sleep, his dreams were plagued with a man in a trench coat, more specifically Dean knew him as Castiel, the Angel.
Dean sat up, his restlessness setting in and got out of his bed, careful to be quiet and not wake Sam up, and hurriedly put on a jacket while slipping on his boots over his sweat pants. He quietly opened the motel door and stepped outside into the crisp, cool October air. He took in a deep breath, cooling his lungs with the fresh air and looked out at the empty parking lot in front of him. His heart weighed heavy in his chest and he ached with an odd feeling of missing someone.
"Alright..." He muttered, "Might as well give this a go." He licked his dry lips and spoke, "Cas? If you're out there, buddy...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm such an idiot. Please...Please tell me you're real."
Castiel heard Dean speaking and immediately flew to where he was. He was standing outside his motel room, all bundled up in a large jacket and probably freezing his butt off in just his thin sweat pants. Castiel listened, not believing what words were coming out of Dean's mouth.
"Cas please, I don't want to believe you were just imaginary." Dean bent his head down and Castiel took a deep breath. If Dean was speaking to him, then that means he could maybe, possibly see him, if he let him.
Dean kept repeating the same words over and over again, getting a bit quieter each time until Castiel finally spoke,
"You're right."
Dean nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden voice as he snapped his head, seeing a slightly shorter man wearing a trench coat. Cas.
"Hello Dean." Castiel lifted his eyes to meet Dean's and blue crashed with green.
Dean was in shock. He knew it. He knew it. "C-Cas..." He breathed out.
"It's...been awhile." Castiel said and Dean cringed just a little because he knew why it's been awhile.
Dean nodded stupidly, struggling to find words. He felt as though he had so many things to tell this man-no Angel in front of him, but could not even fathom a word.
Silence washed over them and Castiel let a small, very small, barely noticeable smile grace his lips. Dean caught the expression and that's when everything spilled from his mouth.
"Castiel, I'm...I'm so sorry. Cas...it's youIcan'tbeliveyou-you're...you'rehere." It was a mess of a sentence because all the apologies kept falling off his tongue and he could just feel the guilt of what he did drowning him until he saw a single tear slip out of Castiel's ocean eyes like it was escaping the blue salty sea. Castiel went to wipe it away, a feeling of embarrassment washing over him, but he couldn't help it. The emotions Dean was putting off were affecting him so strongly.
Dean's body moved and before Castiel knew what was happening, Dean's arms wrapped themselves around his neck and he felt Dean sob quietly. "It really is you." He heard Dean whisper into his ear. His breath was warm against Castiel's skin and he felt heat travel up his body at the contact with Dean after so many years of not touching anyone.
Dean pulled back just a little, looking at Castiel, staring into his eyes and breathing a breathy laugh. He didn't know what was coming over him, he was not acting like himself at all, but he felt as though a puzzle piece just locked into place inside his body and he knew. Castiel was his missing piece.
"I'm so sorry." He repeated again, putting his hands on either side of Castiel's face and pulling him closer until their foreheads touched.
They stared at each other until Dean said, "I forgot how beautiful your eyes were."
Castiel let that little smile grace his lips again and he hesitantly touched one of Dean's hands against his face, feeling the warmth that radiated from just his palms travel down his spine.
They stayed like that for a moment, letting each other satisfy the longing they both had, Dean not realizing it until now, for each other. The feeling made Dean giddy and when he finally pulled away, he chuckled when Castiel tried to get up in his face again.
"My apologies." The Angel mumbled, adverting his eyes when he realized how 'needy' he was feeling to have Dean near him.
Dean waved it off, "Come on, let's go inside. I'm freezing."
Castiel nodded and the two entered the warm motel room. Sam was still sound asleep on his bed, his covers pulled up to his ears. Dean smiled at his brother and stripped off his jacket and boots. The giddy feeling didn't leave him as he climbed back into his bed. He looked up and saw Castiel staring at him with such a satisfied expression that it made Dean's heart thump just a fraction faster.
He was about to lay down and try to sleep and hope that he wouldn't wake up to find Castiel gone for good again when he remembered something.
"Cas."
"Yes, Dean?" Castiel answered immediately.
"Can you do the thing?"
Castiel gave him a slightly confused look before blinking and then nodding. Dean felt his heart rate go up again as he said, "Come here."
Castiel stepped over and Dean motioned for him to come even closer. Castiel obeyed until he was standing directly to the side, next to the bed, of Dean. Dean hung his feet off the side of the bed and gripped the mattress with anticipation. He watched as Castiel closed his eyes and then after a few moments, large, beautiful, slick black wings appeared behind Cas.
Dean's eyes widened, nostalgia slapping him in the face. He remembered his wings, but he didn't remember them being this breathing-taking. His mouth opened in awe as his hand twitched. Castiel must have seen the motion because he hesitantly grabbed Dean's right hand and gently pressed it into one of his wings.
Dean held his breath as his fingers felt silk smooth feathers. The wing itself was warm and moving ever so slightly. Dean glanced at Castiel, whose eyes were closed an almost peaceful expression was evident on his features. "Wow.." Dean mumbled, bravely running his hand down the large wing that just barely touched the carpet floor. He heard Castiel inhale quietly as he did the same movement once more and wondered just how that felt to him. Feeling a bit braver, Dean stood, stepping closer to Castiel and resting his arms on Castiel's shoulders as he ran his hands down the length of the top of the wing. Castiel's face was just barely passed his shoulder and he felt Castiel's quicken breaths against his neck as he repeated the action. Continuing to feel the wings, Dean turned his head slightly, leaning against Castiel's head, his messy, dark hair, smelling of something sweet yet foreign. He felt Castiel lean forward a little against his chest and Dean had the sensation that Castiel's absence was really what had made him feel hollow on bad days.
"Cas..." Dean mumbled.
Dean didn't know when or what time he had gotten to sleep that night, but when he awoke the next morning, he felt the way he usually felt after he's had great sex, but this time it was almost overwhelming.
He sat up in the creaky motel bed, hearing Sam in the bathroom already, and looked up to see Castiel standing at the foot of his bed.
"Good morning, Dean." Castiel had a small, almost cheeky smile on his face and Dean felt his heart jump.
"Morning, Cas." He breathed out and if Castiel let Dean feel up his wings again and touch him gently on the face, igniting his skin with his touch and running his slender fingers through his dark hair while Sam took a shower, well he didn't complain.
Hello again! I really hope you enjoyed reading. Thank you, and I hope you have a wonderful day/night!
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