Wishes
—
It's a cold day in January. He's sitting on a dirty lawn-chair at the motel pool. Alone.
His hands still smell like blood, even after all the scrubbing and hot water.
Dean folds his knees into his chest, and starts sobbing. Everything hurts.
He wishes the pain would stop, wishes someone would at least remember his birthday, wishes for a hug from mom, wishes that mom was back-
"Hello, Dean."
There's a man standing a few feet away from him (how didn't Dean hear him coming?). With wings.
Dean's first reaction is to scrabble for the gun in his pocket, but somehow it's in the man's hand and promptly vanishes what-
"It's alright, Dean. I'm an angel. Your angel."
The 9-year-old squints at the man with wings for a minute, but gives up. He's just so tired.
"It's my birthday." The angel-man's face looks slightly pained for some reason; then he smiles a little.
"I know, Dean. What do you want for your birthday?"
Dean takes a few minutes to think of something, but then he has an idea.
"Can you take Sammy and me somewhere we'll be safe, forever?" Dean's voice rises, Sam'll be a lot safer with an angel, right? No more monsters, no more people (demons) trying to kill them no more dad hitting him and yelling no more-
"No, Dean. I'm sorry, I can't." Dean's shoulders fall and he looks at the ground.
"Oh." Dean's voice is a monotone. "What can you do?"
"I… can stay with you for today."
It's better than nothing.
"Okay. Can I have a birthday hug?" Dean's throat hurts, as though he's about to cry. Weird.
"Certainly." Huh. The angel's voice sounds tighter, or maybe it's just Dean's imagination.
Hugging the angel is like seeing Sam smile and eating a piece of pie and hearing his mom's voice sing all at the same time. All the hurt knotting inside his stomach disappears, and tears fall down his face from the relief.
He stays like that for a few minutes, crying and being hugged by arms and wings and feeling safe for the first time in years.
Dean's stomach rumbles, and he has another idea. Several.
"Can we get pie, too? And can we fly? Wait, no, can we eat pie AND fly at the same time? And can we go see that movie with the light-sabers and…"
Castiel smiles and grants every wish that he can.
—-