Disclaimer: I (sadly) do not own Supernatural. If I did, well, season 7 would be just a wee bit different.
Summary: After getting advice from Sam, Castiel tries to court Dean. Easier said than done.
Spoilers: Alternate ending of season 5, completely disregards season 6.
A/N: This story really got away from me. I had honestly planned it out to be just a cute little fluffy one-shot, but it turned into a two-shot. It's also a little more angsty than I care for, but oh well. Enjoy!
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Dean rested on the bed in their hotel, enjoying the magic fingers and listening to some Zeppelin. It had been months since the Apocalypse was averted, and both Sam and Castiel had been brought back. Castiel suspected that it was God's work, and at that point, Dean no longer argued. He was grateful that his baby brother was alive and okay, and not an archangel chew toy.
With Lucifer gone, life was finally returning to normal. Well, as normal as it could be for the Winchester boys. There were still demons and other supernatural creatures out there, and people still needed saving, so they continued the hunter lifestyle. After all, they were both too changed to live the apple pie life.
Sammy was out doing research to find a new case, so the elder hunter was using the free time to relax. He didn't dare sleep. Lately, the horrors of the past few years had been catching up to him every time he tried to sleep. What little rest he managed to get was never enough.
When his quarter ran out, he sighed and sat up, turning his music off. That had been his last quarter. Of course, he could go to the gas station that was a block away and get some change, but he didn't feel like going out into the cold February air. He hoped their next case took them somewhere a bit warmer.
Instead, he stood up and grabbed the remote, flipping the TV on. If he was lucky, he could catch a rerun of Dr. Sexy, M.D. He wasn't so lucky, so he flipped it on to the discovery channel, a show about birds. Dean watched idly for a few minutes while the narrator talked about the different types of feathers on an eagle's wing.
His mind drifted then, to his angel. He had never actually seen Castiel's wings, just a shadow the first day he had met the angel. Dean wondered if his feathers were similar to that of the bird on the show or if they were completely different. He wondered what color they were and if they would be soft.
Dean scowled at the train of thought and turned the TV off angrily. There was no point going down that road. The guy was a friggin' angel, not to mention in a male vessel. Even if the hunter got over the fact that Castiel was a he, there was no way he could be with an angel. He'd been to hell, had tortured those souls and some dark, twisted part of him had enjoyed it. Cas would never want him in that way.
He was damaged.
"I need a drink," he groaned, retrieving his leather coat and exiting the hotel, the need for alcohol stronger than the desire to stay warm.
He regretted letting Sammy take the Impala, but thankfully he found a bar just a couple blocks away. Inside, he sat at the bar and ordered a beer. Dean scoped the bar. There were a couple people around his age seated at the bar. None of the women were worth hitting on, not that he really wanted to anyway, and he sighed. Several college-aged guys were playing pool, and putting on a confident smile, he headed towards them. If there was one thing he was good at besides hunting, it was hustling pool. Besides, he could use a bit of hard-earned cash.
The hunter walked away from the pool table a few rounds later, stuffing the money he had won into his wallet. Just as he sat down at the bar, his phone rang. Recognizing the number as Sammy's, he answered.
"Dude, where are you?" Came his little brother's voice.
"I'm at the bar, just a few blocks from the hotel," Dean responded, motioning to the bartender for another beer.
Sammy sighed into the phone, "Well, hurry up and get back. I think I may have found a case."
"Alright, I'll be back in a few," Dean hung up the phone and took his time finishing the beer. He wasn't quite ready to head back to the hotel, but the prospect of a hunt made returning a little bit easier.
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Dean stared in horror at the spot where Castiel had been standing. Blood and gore covered the ground and Dean felt sick to his stomach. Not only had he lost his baby brother, but Castiel too. Bobby's death was just the icing on the cake. He wanted to give up, what point was there now?
Lucifer, in Sammy's body, beat him to a pulp. The physical pain he felt was nothing compared to the emotional pain. He could handle a beating, his time in hell had hardened him. But losing his little brother and his surrogate father? Losing Cas? He had lost everything.
Just as Dean was about to give in to the darkness, Sam overpowered the archangel, throwing himself and Michael into the cage. Dean collapsed against the Impala, a bloody mess. He hurt, God, how he hurt. He was alone in the cemetery, Bobby's prone form a few yards from him and the grass was covered in Castiel's blood. He was alone and there was nothing he could do, no one he could turn to. Sam had asked him to go to Lisa, but he knew he couldn't. He was broken, damaged.
And alone.
Dean woke in a sweat and he sat up, immediately glancing towards the other bed. Sam was sound asleep. The elder hunter relaxed, breath evening out as he collapsed on the bed, throwing an arm over his face. He lay there for nearly ten minutes before he got up, unable to return to sleep.
In the bathroom, he splashed cold water on his face. It was refreshing, but the memories of the nightmare still haunted him, fresh in his mind. Dean sat down on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees and resting his head on his hands. He couldn't remember the last time he had gotten a decent night's sleep and he knew Sammy would question him sooner or later. Knowing him, it would be sooner.
A flutter of wings had him glancing up. "Cas," Dean breathed, staring into those blue eyes. Whether the angel knew it or not, he was grateful for the company. Not that he would admit it out loud, but seeing his angel, there and alive and looking rumpled as ever, was a relief. "How'd you find us?" He was fairly certain those Enochian sigils were still carved on his and Sammy's ribs.
"Sam texted me the location," Castiel stated, as if it were obvious. He hadn't arrived right away, as he had been in a meeting with the archangel Raphael. There had been several topics that had needed to be covered; one of which was the end of the Apocalypse. But when Castiel sensed Dean's distress, he arrived at their current location as soon as he was able.
He noted the dark circles under the hunter's eyes and he could feel the concern growing. "You look terrible."
Dean huffed, crossing his arms, "Gee, what a way to make a guy feel special." He was tired which made him short-tempered on a good day, and with Castiel looking at him like that, the hunter was in no mood to pretend that everything was okay.
Castiel tilted his head and stared at his human charge. He frowned after a moment, brows furrowed, "That was sarcasm."
"Well, you're certainly getting better at the human thing."
Normally, Castiel could brush off Dean's words. But today, he just snapped. "I came because I thought you needed help, but I will not be treated like this." And he left, the sound of wings beating loud in the quiet motel.
Dean mentally kicked himself, "Son of a bitch!"
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Castiel stretched his wings carefully. The new feathers that were growing in were making the wings sore and keeping them tucked tightly in only made him more uncomfortable and irritable. That was why he landed in one of his favorite places; a meadow with tall, golden grass. There was plenty of room to stretch without fear of being seen.
Under better circumstances, he wouldn't have stormed out on Dean; but he was already in a bad mood and the hunter's words had only made him more upset. He may have been an angel, but that didn't mean he didn't feel emotions. On the contrary, they ran through him strong, especially since he had been saved from death a second time.
He wasn't sure if it was a fluke—some residual side effects from his time spent as a human; or if it was deliberate, a part of God's plan. But if that was the case, then he had no idea what His plan was.
He could feel another feather work its way out and Castiel couldn't wait for molting season to be over. That was the other topic in his meeting with Raphael. Molting season meant that mating season was approaching. Now that the Apocalypse was over, the remaining angels could focus on rebuilding Heaven. They had lost many in the last few years and their numbers were dwindling.
Though he knew it was his duty to help, Castiel found no angel that captured his interest. No, there was only one person that held his attention in the way that a mate should. And that person he had just ran from. He sighed and gazed upward, watching as a star dashed across the sky.
Raphael had granted him permission to leave Heaven temporarily, in order to attempt to court Dean Winchester. Had he not played such a pivotal role in stopping the Apocalypse, Castiel knew this would never be allowed. But God had brought him back, twice, and after discussing his concern over the human emotions that still lingered strongly, the archangel agreed to Castiel's plea.
Now, he just had to figure out what he had to do in order to win Dean's heart. He considered asking Sam for advice, especially since Castiel had no idea how to do so. But he would have to wait until the younger Winchester was alone. And right now, he was asleep in a motel where Dean was still probably fuming. They were working a case, however, so he knew they would remain in the same area for a few days. He could wait.
He found Sam, a day later, in a library. "Hello, Sam." The younger hunter started, before returning the greeting. Castiel sat across from him, "I need some assistance."
Sam leaned forward and spoke in a quiet voice, "Is this about the argument you had with Dean?"
The angel nodded. He should have known that Sam would notice something was going on. "I wish to court Dean."
Sam coughed. He hadn't expected Cas to be so blunt, though he had suspected it might be something like that. He wasn't blind—he had seen the way the two would stare at each other; not to mention the fact that Castiel had a tendency of crowding Dean's personal space. He never did that with anyone else, Sam had noted.
"Yeah, um. Well, now's a good time to do so, I guess." At Castiel's confused gaze, he elaborated, "Valentine's Day is in a week."
"Of course," the angel nodded. He had lost track of the human months, completely forgetting about the holiday.
"Flowers and candy would be normal Valentine's gifts, but Dean's not into that. And you'll have to make it obvious, because he's so hard-headed about everything."
"What do you suggest?"
"Whatever you do, it should be personal," Sam paused, trying to think of something. For the next hour, they planned, and even though Sam hadn't been able to think of an actual gift, he had certainly helped the angel figure out how to present the gift.
"Thank you, Sam, your advice was insightful," he responded and vanished. Sam sat back in his chair, a thoughtful look on his face. He couldn't wait to see how this would play out. He only hoped that his brother wouldn't do something stupid.
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A/N: If I don't get the next part out tonight, then it should be tomorrow. Thanks for reading! And Happy Valentine's Day!