This is based on a prompt. Also, I apologize for the title, but I couldn't think of anything better :D


As soon as he stepped foot inside the bunker, Castiel felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He was home again. The hunt he had decided to go on while the brother had been on their own hunt hadn't been a complete failure – Castiel had managed to get rid of the entire nest of vampires – but not before another two people died. The angel was sure that if the Winchesters had been the ones to take the job, that wouldn't have happened, but seeing as the brothers had been busy at the time, many more would have died if he hadn't intervened. Castiel still felt disappointed with himself, but at least he had finished this case, unlike the last time he'd hunted vampires.

Castiel shook his head. Thinking about that didn't help anyone. He walked to the staircase that led to the war room, surprised to find it empty. Well, it was quite early in the morning, maybe the brothers were still asleep, or perhaps in the kitchen. He decided to go there, noticing the smell of pancakes halfway through the corridor and followed it.

He found Dean, unsurprisingly making pancakes with his back to Castiel. Sam was nowhere to be found, presumably on his morning run. There was no way Dean would be humming and making pancakes if something had happened to Sam, so Castiel knew he was safe, even if he wasn't there.

"Hello, Dean," he greeted him, smiling slightly, but that smile faded as soon as Dean flinched and turned around, looking at the angel like he had never seen him before in his life. Dean quickly picked up a nearby knife and pointed it at Castiel.

"Who the hell are you?!" he yelled, and Castiel took a shocked step back. "How did you get in here?"

Castiel would have thought this was some kind of elaborate joke he didn't understand, but he could tell that Dean was serious – he really didn't recognize him. Ignoring how his heart clenched at that, Castiel raised his hands to show Dean he didn't mean any harm to him, and also to lessen the chance of being stabbed with the knife. He would survive it, but it would hurt, and being stabbed by Dean wasn't something he wanted to experience again.

"C-Castiel," the angel answered Dean softly, willing him to remember. "You gave me a key, remember?"

Castiel wanted to take the key out of his coat and show it to Dean, but then thought better of it. Dean would most likely interpret it as him reaching for a weapon. There was something odd about Dean (ignoring the obvious), some kind of magical energy.

He must be under some kind of spell, Castiel realized. That would explain it. And he should be able to get rid of the spell easily enough, if Dean would only let him touch him.

"You're an angel?" Dean asked, somehow sounding even more hostile, and Castiel winced slightly. He wondered how Dean put that together if he didn't remember him. Probably the name.

"Yes," Castiel replied, keeping his hands up. A poor example of one, he added in his head.

"A wild angel?"

Castiel blinked. "I…don't know what that means. But, Dean, listen – you're under some kind of spell that made you forget me." Castiel took a step forward. "I can fix it, you just need to let me-"

"Oh, hell no! You stay where you are." The angel did as he was told, looking at Dean pleadingly.

"Please, I won't hurt – hmph!" A cloth covered his mouth and nose, and he breathed in whatever it had been soaked in, making his head spin. He tried to fight off the arm that held him in place, but in just a few seconds he barely had enough energy to hold his eyes open, and finally he lost consciousness.

When he woke up again, it took him a while to recall what had happened, but once he did, his eyes flew open, and he quickly collected his bearings. He was in a corner of the war room, but that wasn't the concerning part of his predicament. He was in a cage. It was about five by five feet in size which was relatively big, but it was also five feet tall, which meant that he couldn't stand up fully.

Castiel sat up and inspected himself. It seemed his coat and suit jacket were missing, as well as his shoes and tie, and, which was much more disturbing, there was a heavy metal collar around his neck. Without even touching it, he could tell it was covered in sigils, blocking his powers. Castiel pulled on it with indignation, trying to figure out how to remove it, until he found the heavy padlock on the back and gave up. There was no way of removing that without having some kind of tool he could use to open the padlock.

Did the Winchesters put him in this cage and lock away his powers? But why would they do that? If they thought he was a threat to them, why not just kill him? That thought pained Castiel, but at least it would have made more sense than this. Where had they gotten a cage this big, anyway?

Only now noticing that the cage had no bottom, the angel wondered if he could move it. He looked around, noticing that it was attached to the wall by a metal ring. It didn't look like it was attached to the wall well. Maybe even with his strength so diminished, he could rip it out.

Without further ado, Castiel grabbed the metal bar of his cage that was inside the ring, but before he could try to pull on it, he snatched his hand away with a yelp, staring at the red line on his palm. The cage must have been warded as well.

Maybe that was why they'd removed his shoes – they would provide a big enough barrier that he would be able to kick the cage without getting burned.

"…don't have time to take care of a damn pet," Castiel heard Dean say and turned towards the corridor it was coming from, slowly getting louder. Castiel wondered what they were talking about. Had they gotten a pet while he'd been gone? "I know you always wanted a dog, but-"

"Dammit, Dean, it's not about that," said Sam, and hope flared within Castiel for a second before he realized it must have been Sam who'd drugged him, so he didn't remember the angel either. "If we want to make sure he doesn't hurt anyone, someone needs to train him, and who's better equipped to handle him than us?"

"We could just gank it and be done with it," Dean grumbled, and Castiel heard Sam hiss something at him, but he couldn't make out the words. He watched them as they walked towards the cage, Sam attempting to give him a sympathetic smile while Dean just settled for a glare. Castiel didn't remember when was the last time such a look had been directed at him from Dean, but it made him want to look away.

"Look who's awake," Dean remarked sarcastically, and Castiel scowled and pulled on the collar.

"Why have you put this collar on me?" he growled. "Why am I in this cage?"

Dean just rolled his eyes, while Sam smiled apologetically. "Sorry about the collar. It was the only one we had on hand. We'll get you a more comfortable one soon." Castiel narrowed his eyes at Sam. Apparently he hadn't gotten across the fact that he didn't want to wear a collar at all. "As for the cage, well, you have to live somewhere."

"I do," Castiel snarled, unable to say this calmly after hearing that. Sam seemed a little taken aback by the outburst. "You said I could stay in the room next to Dean's."

"Told you it's spouting nonsense," Dean told Sam, and Castiel couldn't keep the hurt from his face. He didn't even know why it bothered him so much – he didn't even have a gender, after all – but being called an 'it' by Dean felt like a stab through his heart. "Probably stalked us for a while before coming in here, too. Did a little mind reading... They can do that, right?"

Sam nodded while Castiel shook his head, feeling insulted by the accusation. "I would never do that to you without permission!"

"Sure, we'll believe that."

"Y'know, you're not helping, Dean," Sam told his brother, folding his arms in irritation, and Dean rolled his eyes again.

"Fine, you talk to it. I'm gonna go get a beer." Sam shook his head as he watched Dean leave, and then turned back to Castiel. He crouched down, so Castiel didn't have to look so far up from where he was sitting on the ground.

"Look, sorry about Dean," Sam said with a sad sigh. "He'll come around. He just needs time to adjust. Just like you."

"I don't want to adjust. I want things to go back to how they were," Castiel muttered, mostly to himself, but Sam hear him, and smiled at him sympathetically.

"We can't let you go outside without training you first. You could hurt someone. Angels are just too powerful to leave them to do whatever they want."

Castiel sputtered. "I'm not some animal you can train, Sam. I'm no one's pet!" So that earlier conversation the brothers had had was actually about him. How exactly did Sam plan to train him? Would he get a treat if he rolled over?

"That's the problem. You don't have a master, but you need one. I know you don't like the idea now, but you'll get used to it." With that Sam got up and walked away, probably to find Dean, while Castiel hung his head and tried to process what he had just been told.

He's been called the Winchester's pet before, but they never actually treated him that way. He was a friend to them, a brother even…most of the time, at least. He hugged his knees to his chest and sighed. How was he supposed to get rid of the spell without his powers? He couldn't even see that the brothers were under a spell, anymore, much less remove it.

Well, whatever training Sam was going to attempt, it would most likely take place outside the cage. Maybe if he played along he'd get a chance to escape, get the collar off him, and fix Sam and Dean's memory. And Castiel doubted Sam would hurt him if he cooperated. Sam and Dean were still the same people, they just seemed to believe angels were kept as pets now, for whatever reason.

Castiel would just have to swallow his pride and go along with this until he got his chance.

He sighed again. He missed his coat. He felt so much more vulnerable like this, and he hated it, but he supposed the Winchesters could have taken his shirt too, so that was at least something.

He was so preoccupied with these thoughts, he didn't even notice when Dean walked up to him. When he cleared his throat, Castiel flinched and looked up at him, hating that Dean was looking at him like he was a monster he should be hunting.

"Just to be clear, Sam says you might be useful on hunts, and that's the only reason I haven't put you down yet," he said, looking down at Castiel darkly, and the angel swallowed as his heart wrenched painfully. Dean gripped the angel blade, Castiel's angel blade, that was held on his hip by his belt.

Castiel almost whimpered as the image of Dean almost beating him to death and hovering over him with that same angel blade entered his mind, and he quickly looked away, screwing his eyes shut. Dean didn't seem to think this reaction was strange as he continued.

"But I still think you're more trouble than you're worth, so if you don't behave, I might change my mind." The only answer Dean got was another flinch, and he walked away, apparently satisfied with the reaction, sitting down at the table and opening his laptop.

Castiel looked up, watching Dean for a minute as he thought about what he'd just said. Dean wouldn't actually kill him if he didn't fall in line, would he? Dean wasn't like that.

Then again, right now Dean thought Castiel was just a monster that would hurt people unless beaten into submission, a monster he thought had stalked him and looked into his mind against his will – he was probably just concerned about the safety of innocent people. That thought didn't make Castiel feel any better.

About ten minutes later Sam came back, holding a – oh, god, was that a leash? Castiel automatically scooted back, but then immediately jumped forward as the metal bars of his cage burned his back. Sam crouched down in front of him again, and watched him sadly as the angel moved as far back as he could without touching the bars.

"Come on, Cas," he said, making Castiel bristle at the use of his nickname. It was supposed to be an affectionate name he had been given by the brothers, but now, the way Sam had used it, it sounded like something demeaning. Something that solidified Castiel's new role in the family. "Work with me here."

Sam pushed the end of the least through the bars, holding it toward Castiel, waiting for him to move forward. "I'll stop using it as soon as I feel I don't need to." Castiel didn't want to move, but when he made the mistake of flicking his eyes to Dean and saw him tap the handle of the angel blade, he thought better of it and slowly crawled towards Sam, who quickly tied the leash to one of the rings on Castiel's collar, and stroked his hair as a reward for obeying him. Castiel felt like he would be sick.

Sam opened the door of the cage and led Castiel out, smiling at the angel encouragingly, while Castiel's eyes darted from one corner of the room to the other, trying to find anything that could help him. He couldn't try to run when Sam was holding the leash, which was most likely why he had had the idea to use it in the first place. Castiel would have to make him let go of it somehow, but he didn't want to hurt Sam.

"Okay," Sam started and cleared his throat. "From now on you'll only do what I or Dean tell you to do. Got that?"

A bitter part of him wanted to say that was what he'd been doing the last few years anyway, but he stayed silent, keeping his eyes on the floor as he nodded.

"If you want to do something, you first have to get permission from one of us."

He nodded again.

"Yeah, I don't buy it," said Dean, walking towards them and folding his arms. "You'll bolt as soon as Sam look away."

"I won't," Castiel lied, but he knew Dean saw right through it.

"Prove it then."

Castiel clenched his jaw. "What would you have me do?"

A humorless smile appeared on Dean's face. "Show us your wings. I'll believe you then."

Castiel's eyes widened, and suddenly the notion of hurting Sam in order to get out of here didn't sound that terrible. He felt Sam tighten his hold on the leash, tugging Castiel a little closer to him. It seemed they both knew how intimate an angel showing its wings to someone was, but how could they? Castiel had never told them about this, he hadn't even told them he could manifest them on this plane, and as far as he knew the books in the bunker didn't cover this topic.

"Yeah, didn't think so," Dean said, glowering at Castiel who ducked his head. He didn't want the brothers to see what a pathetic mess his wings had become. And he definitely didn't want them to see them when Sam and Dean were like this. But even though they were broken, they were still strong. Castiel was sure that he would be able to push Sam away with one of his wings if he tried. It would hurt, but there was no way he'd be able to overpower Sam by normal means.

He shut his eyes, ignoring the two brothers who had started bickering, and focused on summoning his wings forth. He wouldn't be able to put them back to the ethereal plane, at least no with that collar on him, but he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

He cried out as the wings materialized with a sick crunch and the sound of tearing fabric. The usual ache caused by the wings was now much more real and sharp, and he would have most likely fallen down if Sam hadn't caught him. He could only lean on Sam for a while, breathing heavily as he tried to get the pain under control.

"Holy shit!" Dean exclaimed. "I didn't think he'd actually…I-I had no idea they would look like that." He actually sounded a little guilty, which made Castiel feel a little better – and he'd actually referred to him as 'he', which was even better. The angel groaned as he tried to fold the wings a little, wincing as a couple of feather fell out.

"Dean, this is – I mean, this is really bad. We need to help him. There's no way his wings are gonna heal when they're covered in blood and broken like this." Sam said, still supporting Castiel. He had started stroking his hair, and while it was a little humiliating, it was also comforting, and given that Castiel had just shown them his wings, he didn't really care that much.

"Yeah, okay, I'll draw him a bath, we can clean the wings there, as well as the rest of him. I mean, I know – angelic hygiene – but I'm sure he could use a bath. Who knows where he's been."

They wanted to not only touch his wings, but to clean them, and force him to take a bath in front of them at the same time. Okay, it was now, or never. Just as Dean disappeared upstairs, and Sam was about to lead him there as well, Castiel pushed Sam away with his right wing with as much force as he could without injuring him too much. Sam fell into a chair, and seemed dazed, and Castiel wanted nothing more than to help him, but he had to start running.

He knew he couldn't use the front exit since it was locked, and his key was in his trench coat, which was god knows where, so he headed to the garage. He quickly ran through the corridors. He could hear Sam running after him, telling him to stop, which only made Castiel run faster. As soon as he reached the garage he ran up to the Impala, finding it unlocked, and quickly jumped into the drive seat, awkwardly shifting his wings so he would fit. He was suddenly very glad Dean had taught him how to hotwire a car.

"Sorry, Dean," Castiel muttered as he pulled out the necessary wires and managed to get the car running just as Sam reached the garage as well. Castiel floored the gas panel and soon enough he was out of the bunker, heading as far away as quickly as possible.

He couldn't believe it had worked. Now he needed to figure out where to go to get rid of the collar, and then come back to free the Winchesters from whatever spell had been cast on them. All he needed was to open the padlock, but he didn't know to pick locks. He supposed he would have to ask somebody to –

Suddenly a truck – his truck – blocked the path, and all Castiel could do was step on the brakes before he hit the other car. There was a crash, and before Castiel could get over his dizziness from crashing a car, he was being dragged out by his hair and thrown on the hard asphalt.

Dean punched him twice, breaking Castiel's nose, and then they dragged him back to the bunker. Castiel wanted to cry. He had been so close, but the Winchesters had managed to stop him, and now who knew what they would do to him. Would Dean follow through with his promise and kill him?

Those were the angel's thoughts as he was dragged by the leash to the war room, where Dean forced him onto his knees, tied his hands together with the leash behind him, and then proceeded to whip the angel with a belt anywhere he could reach. Once he noticed Castiel cried out more loudly when he hit his wings, he focused on those, which had the angel sobbing in just a few minutes.

This went on long enough to make Castiel a shaking, crying mess, and Dean would have continued if not for Sam, who had to physically drag him away. Castiel just lay there, everything hurting too much to move, especially his wings, until Sam pulled him to the cage and pushed him inside, closing it, and without a single word, just a very disappointed look, he threw a huge piece of cloth over the cage, covering it completely and leaving Castiel trembling in the dark. Silent tears were running down his face, mixing with the dried blood from his broken nose, wondering if Dean was going to kill him in the morning.

When Dean woke up, he felt strange. Like he'd forgotten something, but he couldn't figure out what. And his right hand hurt, which was odd as well – he didn't remember punching anything lately. He shook his head and walked out of his room, running in Sam, who was rubbing his eyes.

Dean frowned. When did that last happen?

"Sleeping in, Samantha?"

"Shut up, jerk," his brother shot back and started heading downstairs.

Dean smirked. "Bitch," he said and followed him.

As they walked down to the war room, they couldn't help but notice the large, square object hidden under a black cover.

"What the hell?" Dean asked, and he could swear he heard a whimper emanate from under the fabric. He went to grab the gun he'd left on the table. It was better to be safe when random objects materialized out of nowhere in his home, especially if they contained living beings.

He exchanged a look with Sam who nodded and walked towards the thing, gripping the cover while Dean aimed his gun at it. He nodded at Sam, who quickly pulled the fabric off and jumped back in shock.

Dean almost dropped his gun at the sight of his best friend locked in a cage, hugging himself with his broken wings, and the events of the previous day came crushing down on him. Dean was the reason why Castiel had a black eye and a broken nose. Dean was the reason why the angel was looking at them with such fear. Dean was the reason why he had his wings out.

Suddenly, he felt like he was going to be sick.

"Oh god," he heard Sam say, and Dean watched him pick open the lock on the cage quickly. "Hold on, Cas, let me get that collar off you."

Castiel backed into a corner with a whine, hissing as his wings touched the bars, and Sam stopped, kneeling in front of the cage. He looked back at Dean, silently asking him to help him, but Dean couldn't move. The terrified way Castiel was looking at him made him want to run away instead. Dean quickly threw the gun away, but he didn't move. There was no way his presence would actually help Castiel – it would probably just scare him more.

Sam turned back to Castiel, extending a hand towards him. "I'm not gonna hurt you, Cas. Please. I just want to get rid of the collar so you can heal yourself."

Castiel looked at him doubtfully, but there was a hint of hope in his eyes. "D-did the spell wear off?"

Both brothers nodded at him, and after a moment of hesitation, he finally moved towards Sam and turned around, showing him the padlock. Sam cursed at the sight of it, and started working on opening the lock. Dean couldn't help but notice how the angel flinched whenever Sam accidently touched him. If he reacted this way when Sam did it, how would he react if Dean touched him?

He really wanted to go drink himself into oblivion, but he knew that would hurt Castiel too, so he just stood there, unsure of what to do with himself.

As soon as the collar fell to the floor, Castiel's wings disappeared, as well as the damage Dean had- the damage to his face. He didn't look as afraid anymore, either, but that didn't mean the angel was back to his usual self. He climbed out of the cage shakily, accepting Sam's help only after flinching again.

"Look, Cas," Sam started, running a hand through his hair. "We're so sorry, we-"

"No, Sam," the angel interrupted him, his voice breaking, and he swallowed. "I'm the one who is sorry. You were under the effects of a spell. I shouldn't have let you incapacitate me. I should have fixed this as soon as I noticed something was amiss. I-"

"That's bullshit, Cas," barked Dean, unable to listen to this anymore. Castiel watched him nervously as Dean made his way towards him and Sam. "This isn't your fault. None of this is your fault, okay? It's all on whatever bastard put that spell on us." Dean hated how small Castiel looked without his usual three layers. He wanted to give the angel a hug, but he wasn't sure if he should touch him. Hell, he knew he shouldn't. Castiel was traumatized enough.

"But you blaming yourself for something you had no control over is acceptable?" Castiel said, looking at Dean with disapproval, and the hunter huffed out a laugh.

"Cas," said Sam, "your wings…"

Castiel winced and shook his head. "There's nothing to be done about it, Sam. And I don't care."

Sam opened his mouth, but the angel beat him to it. "Yes, they are abhorrent, and I will never fly again, but it's worth it. I can't say I don't regret some of the choices I made, but I'll never regret choosing you over heaven."

Dean couldn't believe Castiel was saying this just after what they had done to him the day before. He had threatened to kill the angel, for god's sake. Still, Dean was wrapping his hands around Castiel before he could think it through, and immediately regretted it when he felt the angel freeze. However, he relaxed before Dean could pull away, and hugged the hunter back.

He could tell Castiel wasn't completely comfortable in Dean's embrace, but it was a start.