This story starts around season 4, right after episode 4X10 "Heaven and Hell" in which Sam and Dean have the fight with Uriel and Cas, as well as lose track of Anna Milton, the fallen Angel.

Imagine prompt: Imagine being hugged by Dean with him having angel wings, with him pulling you close and just shutting out the world, his wings and arms wrapped around you.

Prologue:

His golden feathers rustle as he pulls back to see my face. We're outside.
"Hey, kiddo, you can get through this. I know you can. You just gotta trust in your own strength, find your family. Remember what we say?"
I smile as we speak together, "Family don't end in blood."
Dean smiles "That's my girl." He brushes a strand of hair away from my face, as he looks me in the eye.
Dean's eyes become more solemn, his brows drawing together "You're stronger than you know. You just gotta find that strength in yourself." He smirks, "You're basically a Winchester. You can get through this, okay Kiddo?" Tears well up in my eyes as I nod, burying myself back into his arms. Dean drops his chin, tucking my head into his shoulder, and his arms tighten around me as he glances at his brother. Sam stands to the side, leaning against the Impala with a soft look on his face.

The day is unusually sunny, the sunlight reflecting off of Dean's feathers, the warmth soaking into my bones. I'll never forget this moment. I never want to lose either of the men who had become my brothers.

I had met Dean one day last Summer, and the day had started out fairly normally, with the exception of the storm that rolled in the afternoon.
The sky had turned dark, and odd occurrences had been all over the news, odd deaths, crop failure...but I had barely paid attention to that. I never watched the news, and frankly, I didn't care.

I didn't really plan on going for a walk in the woods that day, on leaving the path that led to my backyard. I was only taking a shortcut through the park to get back to my house, my own thoughts dark and unsettled after an encounter with some of my 'enemies' from school. But something in you pulled me deeper into the woods, the branches and leaves rustling under my feet. The birds were silent that day, even though I could see them flitting about in the bright green branches.

I had found Dean (But you didn't know his name then) unconscious in a clearing where I liked to read. I almost ran away, thinking some homeless guy had decided to sleep there, but I didn't, instead choosing to investigate, as the tugging in my chest pulled me closer. As I drew closer I saw feathered appendages protruding from his back, draping across the grass, dirty and tarnished golden feathers covered in grime. They were huge. His shirt was in tatters, barely still on him. The downy feathers closest to his skin were bloody, with what looked to be frantic scratch marks near his spine the smaller feathers extended over most of his back, but some looked like they had been ripped out, red liquid seeping around the cuts. Belatedly, I realized that I still had my backpack on, with my towel inside, along with a water bottle and some odds and ends. I had been planning on going to a neighborhood pool party, but it had been canceled because of the weather, I had also left due to some not so friendly people from school hanging around there.

Breaking out of my daze, I had dropped my backpack, quickly jerking the zipper open. Rummaging through it, I pulled out my towel, along with the oversized hoodie I had forgotten that I had left inside of it.
My sneakers brushed the wet edges of the man's wings, which is what they appeared to be, they could hardly be anything else. I circled around, far enough that if the man did wake up, he couldn't grab me.
Kneeling, I spoke to him.
"Hello?"
After a few more failed attempts at waking him up from a distance and without touching him, I grabbed your hoodie. Holding it by the sleeve, I tossed it like a fishing line, bringing it back to myself after I threw it. The edge of it hit his shoulder a few times, and he stirred.

"Sam? Sammy? What the hell...What did those sons of bitches do to me?" He grumbled, turning slightly so he was on his stomach, his eyes still closed. His wings followed, shifting and resisting the movement, dragging in the weeds.
His voice was deep, gravely and husky. From his side, I saw eyes blink... once...and twice...before he jerked his hands under his chest and tried to push himself up, and get his legs under him, only to fall back down. The wings were huge, and they flailed, arching and flapping over his back as his panicked eyes darted around the clearing. I scrambled backward, out of the reach of the wings.

Finally, his eyes locked on my face. The pupils or his eyes were extremely dilated, the iris a startling shamrock green. Laugh lines were at the corners of his eyes, but worry lines showed between his brows. I momentarily thought that this man had obviously seen both the highs and lows of life. Someone not unlike myself.

Even though his face was stern and confused...he wasn't angry, no. He was deadly serious, and worried, but not angry.
"What are you doing here kid?" He questioned while struggling to sit up, only for his back to arch in pain, wings twitching in agony.
"Oh, crap" He spat, as his entire body spasmed.
Forgetting the danger momentarily, I crawled forward, with my towel in hand, making sure he could see my movements as I approached.

"I was just on my way home", I answered as I pressed the clean towel around the base of his wings. The feathered appendages connected from the top of where his shoulder blades should have been all the way to the small of his back. He shuddered, minuscule tremors racking his body. I might not be an expert, but I could tell this stranger was freaking out, even though he was trying to hide it, and was in serious pain.

"What's your name?" I questioned. I watched him seem to consider what answer to give me.

"Name's Dean." He grunted out. "You got a phone?" He asked, with a grimace.
I startled a bit when he spoke, not really having expected him to answer.
"Yeah", I responded, pulling my flip phone out of my back pocket.
"Thanks," he ground out as he quickly tapped a number out into my phone, putting it on speakerphone. As it rang, he looked a bit closer at me. I was dressed simply that day, just jeans and a t-shirt, and my hair was in a messy ponytail. I knelt by his side, my hands keeping constant pressure on the cuts on his back.

The phone's speaker cut through the relative silence, a wary tone hinted in the rough voice that was speaking.
"Hello? Who is this?"
The man beside me spoke up,
"Sammy! Hey. We've got a situation here, and it's not pretty."
"Dee-Dean!" the man's voice stuttered, "Where are you, man?! Last I saw that rogue angel and that witch had you cornered then you disappeared!" His voice cracked a little in worry. "I've been searching everywhere!"
Dean looked at me, his face questioning. Turning to the phone he stated, "I don't know. Some kid found me. This is her phone; I got no frigging idea where I am. That frigging witch cursed me."

Confused, I take the phone and tell Sam the general location, and which path to follow through the woods to get to you and Dean. I realize after a few seconds that beside Dean is a large Bowie knife, along with some triangular blade as well. Nervous, but deciding that you might as well get the tatters of his filthy shirt away from his wounds, I pick up the more normal looking knife, telling Dean what I was going to do before I touch the blade's handle. There was essentially nothing left to pull away, but it was better than letting the blood scab over the cloth. What was left was a scar-ridden back which seemed like it would fit better on a war veteran, with blood still seeping from the base of the wings, and bruises marring the skin around the man's shoulders.
After I cut the shirt away, I hand him the hoodie to pillow his head on, which he accepted gratefully.

Thunder rumbles overhead as I check to see if his wounds had stopped bleeding, hoping whoever this Sammy character was would get there soon.

The rain was soon pattering down, and for a reason unknown to both me and Dean, the rain sizzled against his skin, seeming to both soothe him and hurt him at the same time. Short, pained grunts escaped him as I saw the rain flow in rivulets through his messy and dull golden feathers, the droplets flowing down to the base of his wings.
I saw the gashes around his wings start to close, a faint golden glow emitting from them as they did so, even as you heard a voice shout through the rain, "Dean!", a deep voice laced with fear and just a hint of desperation.
You turned to look at the entrance to the clearing to see a tall, long-haired man, clothed in flannel and jeans running towards Dean and I. For a moment, I was defensive, grabbing the knife from Dean's side and jumping into a defensive crouch for a split second until I recognized his voice as the one that had spoken so worriedly over my phone.

That must be Sam, you thought, as he skidded to a stop next to the both of you. His face was a mask of both worry and shock.

"What happened to you?" He pulled Dean upright, the wings' weight making it a bit hard for even him. Dean slurred out an answer.

"That angel, the guy? Yeah, well, that witch had found a way to bind him", Sam blinked as Dean continued. "Like a slave. Well, she found a way to drain and use his grace for spells...along with how to use that grace to make more...synthetic kind of grace. I got in the way between her and that angel. She hit me with a spell, and as I fell I hit and broke the container holding the synthetic grace," he frowned ", but I don't know how I got here. All I know is I've got freaking heavy, painful wings and this kid found me." Sam glanced at me.

"Dean, she's not a kid, she's got to be at least 14..." , he quipped good-naturedly, "Anyway, we need to get you back to the Impala and then to either a motel or if you can make it, to Bobby's house. Okay? Hopefully, this spell wears off and we can hunt that witch down for this. Cas will probably help now that we know that she's got an angel imprisoned." Dean's face tightened at the name 'Cas', but instead of commenting, he focused on pushing himself into an upright position with Sam's help.

In the back of my mind, this entire situation seemed like something out of a dream, and I considered that my family was probably wondering where you were, but my family hadn't called, so they most likely weren't worried.

***
Somehow I helped Sam fold up Dean's wings and loosely bound them together with Sam's flannel shirt and my hoodie, just enough that Sam could carry his brother without tripping over the feathered appendages. I held his wings, and Sam carried his body. I emerged from the woods next to a deserted and cracked road, with a gorgeous classic black car in front of me, it's ebony paint coated in raindrops.

I glanced at Sam at the same time as he realized that there was no way that we would be able to fit Dean, along with his wings into the car. A frown creased his brow.

"Hey- oh… um, sorry, I don't think I ever asked what your name is." His face was sheepish and worried at the same time. He fidgeted a bit, running a hand through his too long brown hair. I smiled a little bit as I helped Sam prop Dean against the car.

"It's Rani. Rani Cooper." Sam stared at Dean then quickly looked back towards me.

"Rani, is there any chance your family owns a minivan or some sort of truck? There's no way we can fit Dean in here without crushing him." I nodded quickly thinking through our options. My dad was a contractor, and he was on his week off, which meant the large utility van he owned would be at home.

"Yeah, we have one. I can run back home and grab it." I started to turn, ready to run through the woods to get to your house, but Sam grabbed my arm with a hand, his grip was gentle, but strong, but I pulled my arm away as soon as his grip loosened.

"Wait, Rani, can you even drive?" He questioned. His hazel eyes were worried, and he startled a bit when I smirked.
"I'm not a kid Sam, I'm sixteen. I've almost got my license. I'll be fine." I was a bit surprised that even with his brother bleeding and cursed by a witch, Sam made sure that I would be okay. I was a little touched too. My parents just let you do whatever, they didn't really think about safety, just that I didn't give them a bad reputation. This 20's something guy who I just met seemed to care more about my well-being than my own family.

"I promise. I'll be alright Sam." It's not far. I should be back in… ten minutes. Okay?" Sam still wore a frown but he eventually nodded. "I'll be back soon."

I sprinted through the woods, instinctively weaving through the paths back to your house, my shoulder length hair whipping in its ponytail.

Checking to make sure that my parents weren't home, I rummaged through my dad's work bag to grab the keys and grabbed some supplies to take care of Dean. Before I left quickly stripped off the soiled clothes stuck to my body since they had blood on them and were soaking wet, throwing them into my bathroom and pulling on a dry outfit.

Making sure Dad's tools were all in the garage and out of the vehicle, I grabbed the first aid kit from it's nook in the garage, along with an extra bottle of pain meds, sleeping bags to cushion the floor of the van, and some clean towels, throwing them in the back of the truck.

The rain was coming down harder by the time I got out of my neighborhood and back on the main road.

As I drove back to where Sam and Dean were I saw multiple police cars race by. That wasn't normal in your town, but I dismissed it since I needed to get back to Sam and Dean. It was probably just a car accident anyway.

Soon, I pulled up to the back road where both Sam and Dean were. Sam had made a makeshift covering over Dean's body with some ratty umbrellas and an extra coat.

I slowed down, nearly stopped then pulled the van up to them, with the large door on their side. In near silence, other than the pattering of the rain on both vehicles, we got Dean in the van, with enough room for his wings. Laying him on the unzipped sleeping bags, with a towel under his head, I thought I did a pretty good job along with Sam. Once inside the fairly warm truck I pulled out the medical supplies I had brought, handing them to Sam. While he cleaned the remaining wounds on Dean's body, I checked the local news station on the radio wondering what the fuss was about with the police cars.

A voice crackles over the speaker, " -and still at large are the two criminals who escaped the local prison today. One is a tall white male with blond hair and is wearing a white button-down shirt with black pants. His accomplice is a shorter dark-skinned female, with long brown hair and wearing strange jewelry along with a loose red shirt and shorts. They are both carrying weapons. Earlier today they had been arrested attempting break into a house for reasons unknown."

I looked back at Sam.

"Are those the people who attacked you earlier? I heard what Dean said, you know, about her being a witch and all, and I still don't really believe that. But then again, he is laying there with wings life Angel from X-men. So I guess your story may be the most believable thing right now." I frowned. "If what you're saying is true, then how did she do that to Dean? I thought that witches mess around with herbs and love potions and stuff."

Looking fairly surprised, Sam glanced at me. He finished cleaning Dean's wounds, gave his brother some of the pain meds, then maneuvered himself to sit next to you.

"Well, some do. There are good witches, but not many that we've met. Others use their powers for more…selfish purposes. They will brew spells for people, and charge large amounts of money for spells like love potions, amnesiac ones, revenge, hexes, jinxes, all sorts of things. But if you treat a witch wrong, and back out of a deal, they can hex you and kill you. That's what we had thought was going on here." I was still confused, but I nodded.

"Okay. So there's a witch in my town and it killed someone, right? That's why you guys are here? But why would you two guys in their twenties hunt witches, and why would she go after you guys? You should be in college or something!" I nearly whispered, not wanting to disturb Dean. Sam looked at the floor.

"Well, first, we didn't have a normal childhood. We're hunters. Basically, we track and kill just about everything that goes bump in the night, I guess you could just say we hunt monsters. Witches, even though they are technically are human, are one of the things we hunt. And college... it didn't really work out for me. So I started hunting again."

His head dropped, eyes darkening with an indescribable emotion, his mouth downturned.
I tentatively laid your hand on Sam's arm. His hazel eyes met your own golden brown ones before he looked away again, continuing the story. Sam hesitated, his words starting to come out short and choppy, " I got pulled back into the life to help my dad and Dean." He coughed, taking a quick inhale before finishing. "Anyway, I guess after a while I just realized that I need to accept that my life, like Dean says, is Saving people and Hunting Things. It's just how it is for us."

Dean spoke up from the other end of the van.

"Bitch."

Sam's face twitched before he responded, a very small grin on his face.

"Jerk."

*********
Author's note:
Thank you SO much for reading! Frankly, I was a bit nervous about putting this up, but I hope you like it so far! If you didn't like it, please tell me why in the comments, but please no bashing. ❤ If you liked it, please follow so you can be notified when I update and tell me what you liked most and if there is anything that I need to improve. Thank you again!

-Bethany
Aka
spn_randomness on Instagram
*********